Dismissed.’
Frost got to his feet and left the office without a further word. Almost immediately Mullett regretted his harsh tone. Wells had informed him this morning, whilst discussing DC Hanlon’s bereavement, that Frost’s own mother had died last month. The man, to Mullett’s knowledge, had not missed a single day, apart from that of the funeral itself.
He loosened his tie. It was pressing on the scratchy collar and he was tired. But overall the day had not turned out too bad. Winslow, the odious little man, may have actually done him a favour in foisting Waters on Denton. Mullett’s gambit to bring him under Frost’s jurisdiction was a good one. The situation might well become incendiary if Frost screwed up, and the odds were that, his colleagues’ respect notwithstanding, Frost would indeed screw up. And with it lose his chance of promotion, something Winslow had been hassling Mullett to expedite ever since DI Williams’s demise.
Yes, Mullett thought to himself, from this perspective he really couldn’t lose.
* * *
Frost and the WPC stood respectfully at a distance while Mrs Ellis identified her daughter’s body. Drysdale solemnly replaced the sheet.
Accompanying her was her long-term boyfriend, Larry; Mrs Ellis was widowed three years ago and Samantha had, apparently, learned to regard him as her dad. Accordingly he seemed just as distraught as any father would be.
Not surprisingly, it hadn’t been easy to probe the pair for information prior to leaving for the mortuary, but Frost had tried his best. Mrs Ellis was vague about her daughter’s movements in the hours before her death. As she’d already reported, Samantha had gone out on Saturday and had not returned; where she’d been, or who with, the mother didn’t know. She was often out at the weekend. It was difficult for Frost to judge whether the girl had been secretive, or whether the mother just wasn’t interested in what her daughter got up to. At this stage he didn’t really like to push the questioning too far.
From what he had observed at the family home Samantha had been quite an unusual teenager. Her bedroom was devoid of the bright popstar posters that seemed to be the norm for girls of her age; instead it was filled with sombre astrological paraphernalia. Mrs Ellis knew of a diary, but had searched for it in vain when she realized the girl was missing.
Having identified her daughter’s corpse, Mrs Ellis was convulsing with grief, and it was all the shell-shocked boyfriend could do to stop her collapsing to the floor. The WPC patted her arm. It was one of the worst parts of the job, observing a family’s distress in the cold, grey surroundings of the mortuary. What a god-awful place to kiss your beloved goodbye, Frost thought. He knew there was literally nothing he could say that would make things better, so elected to keep quiet.
The WPC had begun to lead the sobbing Mrs Ellis out of the room, but the boyfriend stayed back and turned to Frost.
‘How could this happen in Denton? How could you let this happen? You’re supposed to be responsible for keeping it safe!’
‘I’m very sorry, sir, we’re doing everything we can. If you’d just like to come this way …’
‘I’m not leaving until you promise you’ll do everything in your power to find her killer. I want every officer in your wretched force to be put on this.’
‘Now, we don’t yet know if there
was
a killer. It may have been … an accident.’
‘An
accident
? People don’t accidentally fall out of trains! Do you think she was some kind of idiot?’
Frost remained calm; he’d been on the receiving end of such anger many times before. What better way to combat your sense of uselessness than by having a pop at a policeman. He could see this was the man’s last great gesture of surrogate fatherhood and was happy to let him have it; it was all part of the job.
‘Sir, I realize how difficult this must be for you. If anything comes to mind
Frost got to his feet and left the office without a further word. Almost immediately Mullett regretted his harsh tone. Wells had informed him this morning, whilst discussing DC Hanlon’s bereavement, that Frost’s own mother had died last month. The man, to Mullett’s knowledge, had not missed a single day, apart from that of the funeral itself.
He loosened his tie. It was pressing on the scratchy collar and he was tired. But overall the day had not turned out too bad. Winslow, the odious little man, may have actually done him a favour in foisting Waters on Denton. Mullett’s gambit to bring him under Frost’s jurisdiction was a good one. The situation might well become incendiary if Frost screwed up, and the odds were that, his colleagues’ respect notwithstanding, Frost would indeed screw up. And with it lose his chance of promotion, something Winslow had been hassling Mullett to expedite ever since DI Williams’s demise.
Yes, Mullett thought to himself, from this perspective he really couldn’t lose.
* * *
Frost and the WPC stood respectfully at a distance while Mrs Ellis identified her daughter’s body. Drysdale solemnly replaced the sheet.
Accompanying her was her long-term boyfriend, Larry; Mrs Ellis was widowed three years ago and Samantha had, apparently, learned to regard him as her dad. Accordingly he seemed just as distraught as any father would be.
Not surprisingly, it hadn’t been easy to probe the pair for information prior to leaving for the mortuary, but Frost had tried his best. Mrs Ellis was vague about her daughter’s movements in the hours before her death. As she’d already reported, Samantha had gone out on Saturday and had not returned; where she’d been, or who with, the mother didn’t know. She was often out at the weekend. It was difficult for Frost to judge whether the girl had been secretive, or whether the mother just wasn’t interested in what her daughter got up to. At this stage he didn’t really like to push the questioning too far.
From what he had observed at the family home Samantha had been quite an unusual teenager. Her bedroom was devoid of the bright popstar posters that seemed to be the norm for girls of her age; instead it was filled with sombre astrological paraphernalia. Mrs Ellis knew of a diary, but had searched for it in vain when she realized the girl was missing.
Having identified her daughter’s corpse, Mrs Ellis was convulsing with grief, and it was all the shell-shocked boyfriend could do to stop her collapsing to the floor. The WPC patted her arm. It was one of the worst parts of the job, observing a family’s distress in the cold, grey surroundings of the mortuary. What a god-awful place to kiss your beloved goodbye, Frost thought. He knew there was literally nothing he could say that would make things better, so elected to keep quiet.
The WPC had begun to lead the sobbing Mrs Ellis out of the room, but the boyfriend stayed back and turned to Frost.
‘How could this happen in Denton? How could you let this happen? You’re supposed to be responsible for keeping it safe!’
‘I’m very sorry, sir, we’re doing everything we can. If you’d just like to come this way …’
‘I’m not leaving until you promise you’ll do everything in your power to find her killer. I want every officer in your wretched force to be put on this.’
‘Now, we don’t yet know if there
was
a killer. It may have been … an accident.’
‘An
accident
? People don’t accidentally fall out of trains! Do you think she was some kind of idiot?’
Frost remained calm; he’d been on the receiving end of such anger many times before. What better way to combat your sense of uselessness than by having a pop at a policeman. He could see this was the man’s last great gesture of surrogate fatherhood and was happy to let him have it; it was all part of the job.
‘Sir, I realize how difficult this must be for you. If anything comes to mind
Similar Books
