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Authors: Val McDermid
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watching two people who clearly loved each other tearing that connection apart. For anyone who cared anything for Tony or Carol, the past year had been purgatorial. She couldn’t help wondering what had brought them back to this point.
The question had been answered as soon as she’d walked into the CID office that morning. She hadn’t even got her coat off when DCI Fielding had appeared in her office doorway. ‘Did you hear about Carol Jordan?’ she said, unable to hide the feline smile twitching the corners of her mouth.
‘What about her?’ Paula had turned away under cover of hanging up her jacket. She wasn’t about to give Fielding the satisfaction of seeing her reaction to whatever piece of bad news she was clearly on the point of dishing out.
‘She’s been done for drink driving. West Yorkshire picked her up on Saturday night. Nothing marginal about it either. Well over the limit, I hear.’ Fielding couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of her voice. She might not be half the detective Carol Jordan had been, but she was damn sure she was never going to be caught out doing something that stupid; that was what Paula read in her tone.
Paula hid her dismay and turned to face her boss. ‘That must be a relief to a lot of people,’ she said blandly.
Fielding frowned. ‘Meaning what, Sergeant?’
‘With a criminal conviction like that, there’s no prospect of her being wooed back on to the force.’ She turned her mouth down at the corners in a sardonic expression. ‘So she’s not going to be challenging anybody else’s job.’ Then she’d walked away, not waiting for Fielding’s reaction. She armed herself with a cup of execrable instant and headed for an interview room without a backward glance.
When she sat down to interrogate an arrogant rape suspect, she put Fielding’s words out of her head. There would be time for that later. Right then, she had to focus on stripping a young man of his swagger and introducing him to the world of uncertainty and fear. This was what she lived for, in a professional sense. Her natural environment was the ritual dance of the interview, where she could use all her wiles to wheedle and worm information out of men and women who had come into the room armoured with certainty that they weren’t going to reveal themselves. Nobody was better than Paula at shredding that certainty and leaving them exposed to their own venality and criminality. It was, she knew, the reason Carol Jordan had recruited her in the first place.
By the time she’d done with the rapist, it was time to slip out and meet the two people whose brilliance had helped shape her into the cop she was now. She told nobody where she was going, only that she had someone to see about a case. Fielding wouldn’t like it, but the way Paula was feeling these days, that was a bonus.
When she walked into the hipster coffee bar on the fringes of the university campus where Tony had told her to meet, she wondered momentarily if he’d misjudged the rendezvous. But of course it made perfect sense. None of the patrons here would have the faintest idea who any of the trio was; they’d just be three old saddos who had walked in by mistake.
Paula spotted Carol and Tony right away, sitting hunched over a corner table at the back of the room. Even from this distance, Tony looked tired, dark smudges under weary eyes, his cheeks hollow.
Paula picked up an Americano at the counter and joined them. Carol was pale, her skin blotchy and dry. Her hair needed a good cut from a proper stylist, not whatever local snipper she’d entrusted herself to. In the weeks since Paula had seen her last, she appeared to have withdrawn even further into herself. But Paula was determined not to show her worry for her former boss. ‘Good to see you,’ she said cheerily as she settled into the third chair, wondering what the etiquette was when it came to mentioning drink-driving charges.
‘You too,’ Tony said.
‘Thanks for sneaking
The question had been answered as soon as she’d walked into the CID office that morning. She hadn’t even got her coat off when DCI Fielding had appeared in her office doorway. ‘Did you hear about Carol Jordan?’ she said, unable to hide the feline smile twitching the corners of her mouth.
‘What about her?’ Paula had turned away under cover of hanging up her jacket. She wasn’t about to give Fielding the satisfaction of seeing her reaction to whatever piece of bad news she was clearly on the point of dishing out.
‘She’s been done for drink driving. West Yorkshire picked her up on Saturday night. Nothing marginal about it either. Well over the limit, I hear.’ Fielding couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of her voice. She might not be half the detective Carol Jordan had been, but she was damn sure she was never going to be caught out doing something that stupid; that was what Paula read in her tone.
Paula hid her dismay and turned to face her boss. ‘That must be a relief to a lot of people,’ she said blandly.
Fielding frowned. ‘Meaning what, Sergeant?’
‘With a criminal conviction like that, there’s no prospect of her being wooed back on to the force.’ She turned her mouth down at the corners in a sardonic expression. ‘So she’s not going to be challenging anybody else’s job.’ Then she’d walked away, not waiting for Fielding’s reaction. She armed herself with a cup of execrable instant and headed for an interview room without a backward glance.
When she sat down to interrogate an arrogant rape suspect, she put Fielding’s words out of her head. There would be time for that later. Right then, she had to focus on stripping a young man of his swagger and introducing him to the world of uncertainty and fear. This was what she lived for, in a professional sense. Her natural environment was the ritual dance of the interview, where she could use all her wiles to wheedle and worm information out of men and women who had come into the room armoured with certainty that they weren’t going to reveal themselves. Nobody was better than Paula at shredding that certainty and leaving them exposed to their own venality and criminality. It was, she knew, the reason Carol Jordan had recruited her in the first place.
By the time she’d done with the rapist, it was time to slip out and meet the two people whose brilliance had helped shape her into the cop she was now. She told nobody where she was going, only that she had someone to see about a case. Fielding wouldn’t like it, but the way Paula was feeling these days, that was a bonus.
When she walked into the hipster coffee bar on the fringes of the university campus where Tony had told her to meet, she wondered momentarily if he’d misjudged the rendezvous. But of course it made perfect sense. None of the patrons here would have the faintest idea who any of the trio was; they’d just be three old saddos who had walked in by mistake.
Paula spotted Carol and Tony right away, sitting hunched over a corner table at the back of the room. Even from this distance, Tony looked tired, dark smudges under weary eyes, his cheeks hollow.
Paula picked up an Americano at the counter and joined them. Carol was pale, her skin blotchy and dry. Her hair needed a good cut from a proper stylist, not whatever local snipper she’d entrusted herself to. In the weeks since Paula had seen her last, she appeared to have withdrawn even further into herself. But Paula was determined not to show her worry for her former boss. ‘Good to see you,’ she said cheerily as she settled into the third chair, wondering what the etiquette was when it came to mentioning drink-driving charges.
‘You too,’ Tony said.
‘Thanks for sneaking
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