Arnold looked at her for a moment, then gave a single, solitary nod of acceptance. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘You do realise I’m saying all this because these are the questions that’ll be asked of me. I’ve got to answer to my superiors, too.’
‘Of course.’
‘For what it’s worth, I think you made the right call. And I’ll be passing that up the food chain.’
‘Thank you, sir. That means a lot.’
Arnold smiled. ‘In fact, there’s something else I want to speak to them about. I may as well tell you now. I’m planning on nominating you for a special commendation.’
Caroline was stunned into silence. She felt sure Arnold would at least question her methods, if not rip her a new one, but she certainly hadn’t expected this. ‘Oh. Wow. Thank you, sir. It’s an honour.’
‘No guarantees, of course. It’s not technically up to me; I can only nominate you. But in my experience these things tend to go through without a hitch. Provided you haven’t slept with the Assistant Chief Constable’s wife or anything.’
‘Not that I can recall, sir. What’s her name?’
‘Susan. I wouldn’t recommend it. She strikes me as a biter.’
‘I’ll bear it in mind, sir. I wouldn’t want to spoil my chances.’
Arnold smiled again. ‘And proper closure on the Russell Speakman case, too. That’s not to be sniffed at.’
‘Yeah, that was a handy little bonus. I’m afraid I can’t really take any credit for that one, though.’
‘Oh, I don’t know. From what I understand, it was your tenacity and probing that flushed Ruby whatsherface out into the open.’
‘Ruby Clifford. And I’m not sure about that. She was racked with guilt, the poor thing, even though she hadn’t really done anything. At least now her conscience is clear. And, as you say, it gives the case proper closure.’
‘Good. Good. Now, on to more important matters. I hear on the grapevine that a few of you are planning on having some celebratory drinks later. Is that correct?’
Caroline winced inwardly. Arnold’s tone told her he wasn’t exactly best pleased with what he’d heard. ‘Well, it was mentioned briefly that one or two might stop off for a quick half on the way home. But nothing heavy, especially not for those working tomorrow.’
‘Ah, I think you misunderstand me, DI Hills,’ Arnold said. ‘You’ve got every right to celebrate and enjoy yourselves. That wasn’t really my question.’
‘Sorry, sir,’ Caroline said, feeling surer than ever that she’d never truly understand the man. ‘What is the question then?’
Arnold’s smile returned, and this time it was beaming. ‘Have you got room for one more?’
55
Although Caroline had never been a big pub-goer, she found the low rumble of conversation and the occasional chinking of glasses to be strangely comforting and relaxing. On the whole, she couldn’t stand background noise, but there was something about pubs that was different.
Pubs in London had an altogether different vibe. She’d rarely visited any of the pubs in and around Cricklewood. From what she could make out, they’d been either dive bars, extortionately priced gastropubs or even more extortionately priced craft beer houses made to cater for the growing hipster community. One of the many things she’d been glad to discover in Rutland was that the traditional British pub was alive and well — and few did it in greater style than the Wheatsheaf, just a stone’s throw from work and a short meander home should it be necessary to leave her car, which more often than not tended to be the case.
It would be fair to say the dynamic had shifted slightly with the addition of Derek Arnold to the celebratory drinks but, to give him his due, he seemed to be trying his best to fit in and not wear his superior-officer hat too obviously. On the contrary, Caroline found herself more concerned with her own team.
Almost as if he could read her mind, Aidan looked up from his phone and forced a smile. He’d seemed distracted the whole evening, constantly checking his phone and responding to text messages.
She’d noticed Sara had been quieter than usual over the past few days too, and through everything else that’d been going on she hadn’t pieced it all together. When she thought back, it was obvious. She’d taken the revelation about Aidan being gay far harder than she’d initially let on. Sara had more or less worked it out for herself, and had told Caroline she’d had an inkling, but it was now clear that she’d been clinging onto the hope she’d been wrong for far too long.
Sara had always been one of the quieter officers she’d met. She was calm, collected, dedicated and studious. But Caroline felt shamed that she didn’t know much more about her. The chat they’d had over coffee in The Daily Grind had been a revelation in many ways, but it still hadn’t escaped her notice that she knew precious little about such an important member of her team. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t know all that much about any of them, with perhaps the partial exception of Dexter, who she’d spent much more time with, and who seemed only too happy to share details about his life.
‘So. Anyone got any holidays planned this year?’ she asked, before realising how cringeworthy the question sounded.
‘Nothing planned,’ Dexter replied. ‘Might sort out something last minute.’
A rumble of laughter ran through the group at the inside joke. As wonderful as last-minute holidays sounded, the succession of ever-changing shift patterns meant planning ahead was key.
‘How about you, Aidan?’ Caroline asked.
Aidan looked up from his phone, for what must have been only the second time that evening. ‘Huh? Sorry.’
‘Holidays. Got any planned?’
‘Oh. No, not really. We might try and get a few days in Devon or Cornwall in the summer. See how it goes.’
The wording hadn’t been lost on Caroline. ‘We? Have you kissed and made up, then?’
‘Hmmm? Oh. No. No, we haven’t. This is somebody new.’
Caroline nodded.
