‘Ah, well,’ Salter said. ‘He’s bloody good is our Josh. Mind you, he’ll need to keep his balls on ice for a few days. That’s quite a kick you’ve got there.’
Josh was still glaring at her. ‘Just fuck right off,’ he said. She assumed, perhaps over-charitably, that the words were aimed at Salter.
‘Bit of risk goes with the territory, mate,’ Salter said, still beaming. ‘Especially when you tangle with Marie Donovan, undercover officer.’
It was the closest Salter would ever come to acknowledging her success. But it was close enough for her.
‘What’s this all about, Hugh?’ she said.
‘Training exercise, like I say. Which you came through with flying colours. Sorry if Josh went a bit over the top, but we had to get to the point where you’d start to think it might be real. Up to that point – well, it was useful, because at least it showed us you could stay in character . . .’
‘Even at the crack of dawn after two days of just being myself?’
‘Quite so. And you did it well, but there was no real pressure. Not till Josh managed to get you questioning whether it might be real after all. Then we saw what you were made of. Josh in particular, I think.’
‘Christ, you don’t do things by halves, do you?’
‘Can’t afford to, sis. Look, this is what it’s going to be like. I mean, not like this – let’s hope not, anyway. But having to keep up the act even if you’re being challenged, even if you’re scared out of your wits. Having to improvise when things don’t go to plan. Having to remember which lies you’ve told and to whom.’
‘Jesus, Hugh, anyone suggested you get a job in sales?’
‘They like people who tell the truth, do they? But you’ll be all right, sis. If you can get through this lot, you’ll cope with anything the job can throw at you.’
‘I hope you’re right, Hugh. Because it doesn’t feel that way just at the moment.’
‘You did good, girl,’ Salter said again.
‘Well, thank you, Hugh.’ She turned and nodded to Josh. ‘And thank you, too, I suppose. You make a very convincing total bastard.’
She moved towards the door, wanting now just to be out of there, to be heading home. To be sleeping. The adrenaline had melted away, and she felt as exhausted as she had back at the airport. As she pulled open the door, she paused to look back at Salter.
‘In fact, you both do,’ she said. ‘You both make very convincing total bastards.’
Liam waved the bottle in her direction. ‘Want any more?’
‘No. You finish it. I’ve had enough.’ She drained the last dregs of the red wine, and climbed slowly to her feet. ‘I’m knackered,’ she said. ‘Think I’ll turn in.’
He poured the last of the wine into his own glass. ‘What time you off in the morning?’
‘Not too early. About eight, probably.’
‘We can have breakfast together before you go, then.’
‘If you’re up.’ She immediately regretted the response, which sounded more sarcastic than she’d intended.
‘I’ll be up,’ he said. ‘Want to see you before you go. One last time.’
‘It’s not forever, Liam. A month. Then I’m back.’
‘For a weekend. Then you’re off again. And so on. Maybe forever.’
She bit back her exasperation. ‘We’ve been through this, Liam. Dozens of times. It’s what I want to do. It’s a new challenge. It’s terrific experience.’
‘I know. I know it’s what you want. I’m not trying to stop you. I don’t have to like it, though.’
‘No, well, you’ve made it very clear that you don’t.’
‘You’ve said yourself, Marie. It’s risky. We’re having to live apart. You can’t expect me to like that. Or pretend to like it.’
She nodded. ‘OK. It’s not going to be easy. But we’ll get through it. They won’t let me stay out in the field for too long. No one does. A year. Eighteen months, max.’
‘Almost there already, then,’ he said. The tone was ironic, but he was smiling now at least.
‘Come to bed,’ she said. ‘It’s our last night. We ought to make it worthwhile.’
‘OK,’ he said. ‘Five minutes. I’ll just finish the wine.’
‘Don’t drink too much. I don’t want you incapable,’ she half-joked. ‘How are you feeling now, anyway?’
He shrugged. ‘Not so bad. Tired. Aching a bit. But I’ve been feeling better lately. Not so difficult walking.’
She looked at him, wondering what was going on in his mind. Whether he was really feeling better or just trying to make the best of things. Since he’d received the diagnosis, he’d become harder to read, more withdrawn. When she tried to talk about it, he just shrugged it off. There was nothing to say, he insisted. Maybe it would be all right, maybe it wouldn’t. All he could do was take each day as it came.
‘OK,’ she said. ‘But you don’t want me falling asleep on you.’
‘Certainly don’t.’ He raised the wine glass in her direction. ‘Here’s to you, Marie. Here’s to us. Here’s to the future.’
He sounded very slightly drunk, she thought. And there was no way to tell whether he was being sincere. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘To me. To us. To the future.’
Part Two
Winter: Operational
Chapter 2
They’d thrown open the large picture windows and a chill wind was gusting off the canal through the apartment, but the stench of blood was unavoidable. The young officer, Hodder, stood hesitantly in the kitchen doorway, trying to catch Salter’s eye. He looked faintly bilious.
After a moment, Salter thumbed off the mobile phone and looked up. ‘All OK, son?’ There was only a few years’ difference in their ages, but Salter categorized most colleagues as ‘son’, ‘mate’ or ‘guv’, depending on their relative rank. He was a tall angular man, his head shaved, his eyes staring disapprovingly at the world through narrow steel-rimmed glasses.
‘Didn’t want to interrupt,’ Hodder said. He gestured towards the phone. ‘Your sister?’
Salter stared at him, uncomprehending, then laughed. ‘No, just my little joke. One of our esteemed colleagues, Marie Donovan.’
‘Don’t know her.’
‘You wouldn’t,’ Salter said. ‘Covert. Deep cover.’
Hodder shook his head. ‘Don’t know how they do it,’ he said. ‘Months on end. Leading a double life. Must drive you bananas.’
Salter smiled. ‘It does, son. Take it from one who knows.’
Hodder blinked, suspecting he’d made a gaffe. ‘No offence. Didn’t realize you’d done it.’
‘Years of it. And, yes, it can leave you pretty messed up.’ He gazed impassively back at Hodder, as if daring him to take the conversation further. ‘How are things through there?’
‘They’re nearly done with the crime scene stuff. Just finishing up.’
‘About bloody time,’ Salter said. ‘Sooner we can all get out of this place the better.’
‘It’s a mess in there,’ the young man said. ‘Though they’ve taken the body out now.’ His expression suggested that this was a relief.
