now.’
‘Christ, Scott. What’s fair about that?’
Boston laughed, a harsh sound. ‘When has this kind of thing ever been fair, Alex?’
Cahill knew that he was right. But it didn’t stop him feeling anger bubble inside.
‘Can we rely on you, Alex?’
Cahill stared out into the night through the windows of his study.
‘Alex?’
‘I won’t tell Melanie anything else.’
‘That’s not exactly what I asked.’
‘That’s all I’ve got for you.’
5
Cahill went to bed but couldn’t sleep after the call with Boston. He pulled back the covers and swung his feet out of the bed, listening to the steady rise and fall of Sam’s breathing beside him. He turned and put a hand on her shoulder, feeling her skin warm under his fingers. Her breath hitched and went back to its steady rhythm.
He went down to his study and called Melanie Stark. It was early evening in Kansas. He had no idea what he was going to say to her.
‘Alex,’ she said, her voice a flat monotone.
‘How are you holding up?’
‘You know …’ She faded into silence.
Cahill did know.
‘It takes time,’ was what he said.
A cliché. Still, it was true.
‘Why are you calling? It must be late there.’
Cahill looked at the clock on his desk. ‘It’s after one. But that doesn’t matter, I was working anyway. Have you spoken any more to the police or anyone else?’
‘No. There’s no reason to, is there? Tim’s dead. That’s what you told me.’
‘But don’t you want to know why, or what he was doing on that plane?’
‘I thought I did. But I’m not so sure any more. What good would itdo? I mean, what if I find out he was mixed up in something … bad? Then what?’
‘That won’t happen. I know Tim.’
‘Maybe nobody really knew him.’
‘Melanie …’
‘Bye, Alex.’
He sat at his desk, clenching and unclenching his fists, wanting to hit something. He’d known too many people who had died. And he couldn’t shake the anger he felt about this. About what they were doing to the memory of a good man. And his family.
He didn’t like not knowing. Hated being lied to and bullied, which was how he felt now after the call from Boston. It wasn’t just Melanie Stark’s problem now. It was his.
And maybe he would make it someone else’s problem.
6
Tuesday
Irvine went to Liam Moore’s room and knocked on his open door. He beckoned her in with a wave of his hand, not looking away from his computer screen. She sat and waited while he typed something on his keyboard. Irvine had not yet worked out if Moore was always in the middle of something when she wanted to speak to him or if he pretended to be so that he could make her wait. Maybe he was checking his Twitter account.
‘How did it go yesterday with the SCDEA thing?’ he asked eventually, pushing the keyboard forward and resting his arms on the desk.
‘It was a long day.’
‘Anything you need from me?’
‘No. It’s too early to really know where the investigation is going.’
He watched her silently.
‘They’re retaining overall control of the investigation, right? I mean, the SCDEA.’
‘Yes. They’re happy for me to lead on the latest victim. The girl.’
‘Territorial boundaries and all that. Plus, they think they’re better than regular cops. Hand-picked, you know?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I appreciate that boundaries are not your strong point, Becky.’
She smiled. He did not.
‘Try to play nice, okay? Stay out of trouble.’
‘Sure.’ She frowned. ‘Of course I will.’
Armstrong had changed and washed his hair but the stubble was still in place, grown heavier overnight. It looked like he didn’t need much time for a full growth to develop.
‘You going for a beard?’ she asked.
He rubbed at his chin.
‘If it was good enough for Serpico …’
‘So what’s the plan for this morning?’ she asked.
‘Chase up the lab results,’ he said. ‘Talk to the uniforms. See what shakes loose.’
‘ See what shakes loose ?’ She
‘Christ, Scott. What’s fair about that?’
Boston laughed, a harsh sound. ‘When has this kind of thing ever been fair, Alex?’
Cahill knew that he was right. But it didn’t stop him feeling anger bubble inside.
‘Can we rely on you, Alex?’
Cahill stared out into the night through the windows of his study.
‘Alex?’
‘I won’t tell Melanie anything else.’
‘That’s not exactly what I asked.’
‘That’s all I’ve got for you.’
5
Cahill went to bed but couldn’t sleep after the call with Boston. He pulled back the covers and swung his feet out of the bed, listening to the steady rise and fall of Sam’s breathing beside him. He turned and put a hand on her shoulder, feeling her skin warm under his fingers. Her breath hitched and went back to its steady rhythm.
He went down to his study and called Melanie Stark. It was early evening in Kansas. He had no idea what he was going to say to her.
‘Alex,’ she said, her voice a flat monotone.
‘How are you holding up?’
‘You know …’ She faded into silence.
Cahill did know.
‘It takes time,’ was what he said.
A cliché. Still, it was true.
‘Why are you calling? It must be late there.’
Cahill looked at the clock on his desk. ‘It’s after one. But that doesn’t matter, I was working anyway. Have you spoken any more to the police or anyone else?’
‘No. There’s no reason to, is there? Tim’s dead. That’s what you told me.’
‘But don’t you want to know why, or what he was doing on that plane?’
‘I thought I did. But I’m not so sure any more. What good would itdo? I mean, what if I find out he was mixed up in something … bad? Then what?’
‘That won’t happen. I know Tim.’
‘Maybe nobody really knew him.’
‘Melanie …’
‘Bye, Alex.’
He sat at his desk, clenching and unclenching his fists, wanting to hit something. He’d known too many people who had died. And he couldn’t shake the anger he felt about this. About what they were doing to the memory of a good man. And his family.
He didn’t like not knowing. Hated being lied to and bullied, which was how he felt now after the call from Boston. It wasn’t just Melanie Stark’s problem now. It was his.
And maybe he would make it someone else’s problem.
6
Tuesday
Irvine went to Liam Moore’s room and knocked on his open door. He beckoned her in with a wave of his hand, not looking away from his computer screen. She sat and waited while he typed something on his keyboard. Irvine had not yet worked out if Moore was always in the middle of something when she wanted to speak to him or if he pretended to be so that he could make her wait. Maybe he was checking his Twitter account.
‘How did it go yesterday with the SCDEA thing?’ he asked eventually, pushing the keyboard forward and resting his arms on the desk.
‘It was a long day.’
‘Anything you need from me?’
‘No. It’s too early to really know where the investigation is going.’
He watched her silently.
‘They’re retaining overall control of the investigation, right? I mean, the SCDEA.’
‘Yes. They’re happy for me to lead on the latest victim. The girl.’
‘Territorial boundaries and all that. Plus, they think they’re better than regular cops. Hand-picked, you know?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I appreciate that boundaries are not your strong point, Becky.’
She smiled. He did not.
‘Try to play nice, okay? Stay out of trouble.’
‘Sure.’ She frowned. ‘Of course I will.’
Armstrong had changed and washed his hair but the stubble was still in place, grown heavier overnight. It looked like he didn’t need much time for a full growth to develop.
‘You going for a beard?’ she asked.
He rubbed at his chin.
‘If it was good enough for Serpico …’
‘So what’s the plan for this morning?’ she asked.
‘Chase up the lab results,’ he said. ‘Talk to the uniforms. See what shakes loose.’
‘ See what shakes loose ?’ She
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