Читать книгу For All Our Sins - T.M.E. Walsh - Страница 17

CHAPTER 8

By the time Claire had driven back to the office, she tried to look as if the last forty minutes hadn’t happened.

She sat in her car in the station car park, pulled her sunglasses off, and tossed them on the dash. She peered into the rear-view mirror. She dabbed around her eyes with her fingertips, removing any smears of make-up before heading into the station.

As she walked into CID, DI David Matthews was on her as soon as she was through the door.

‘Guv,’ he said, too loudly, in her ear, enough for her to glance across the room to where Michael was sitting, watching them closely.

‘Guv, can I have a word?’

She gave a curt nod, and he followed her through to her office, shutting the door behind him. As Claire sat down in her chair, she risked another glance at Michael. She had a perfect line of sight to his desk through the glass partition walls of her office.

He was rifling paperwork on his desk, and then peering at his computer screen, pretending to be busy.

Claire knew he was watching them, watching her.

Every single move.

‘Have a seat, Matthews,’ she said as she booted up her computer. He sat in one of the chairs opposite her desk and just smiled. Claire raised her eyes to meet his. ‘Why are you grinning at me like a Cheshire cat?’

Matthews leaned forward, clasping his hands together and rested them on her desk. ‘The Hargreaves case?’ he said. ‘I got your email. Thought now would be a good time to go through everything.’

Claire glanced towards Michael’s desk again. He wasn’t there. She felt herself relax a little.

She found herself smiling back at Matthews, her ice-blue eyes glowing in amusement. ‘I thought you’d be pleased. You wanted to work the Hargreaves case and now I’m making you SIO, we’ll discuss the details tomorrow, with Diego.’

She paused and considered her next words carefully.

‘And before you ask, Diego didn’t take it too well – about Hargreaves – so do me a favour and don’t rub his bloody nose in it. I’m working the Wainwright murder with him. The last thing I need is him resenting me any more than he does already.’

Matthews was beaming. His dark-brown eyes looked out of Claire’s office, across the incident room to the work station he shared with the other underdogs – mainly the DCs in his eyes. He shouldn’t even be sitting near them. He was meant for better things.

He wanted Claire’s crown and this was his big foothold on the ladder.

He leaned forward, his floppy brown hair falling around his eyes. He brushed it back with his left hand and offered his other to Claire. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

Claire stared at his hand then reluctantly shook it. ‘Just don’t let me down… Don’t make me regret this.’

Business and pleasure didn’t mix, Claire knew that, and she’d learnt the hard way. The last thing she needed was people talking about her and Matthews and she couldn’t afford to be showing any favouritism.

‘I need results on the Hargreaves case. I’ve got DSI Donahue breathing down my neck and the press aren’t exactly painting a pretty picture about us at the moment,’ she said, her eyes lowered. ‘They’re calling the whole investigation a farce. No justice for the families…the usual.’

Her eyes met his.

He nodded. ‘Not a problem, Guv. I won’t let you down.’

Claire gestured for him to leave. ‘I’ll be holding you to that.’

After Matthews had left, Claire’s BlackBerry rang.

She saw the screen. Chose to ignore it. When the call diverted to voicemail, she switched the phone off.

***

Michael headed outside the main building, lit himself a cigarette and walked towards the designated smoking area. He leaned up against the wall and exhaled a stream of smoke.

He closed his eyes.

‘You look like shit.’

Michael opened his eyes and saw the familiar grin of DC Gabriel Harper standing a few feet from him.

Michael allowed himself a small smile. ‘Love you too, Gabe.’

‘It’s just an observation, mate,’ he said, now standing beside him. ‘Got one to spare?’ he said, nodding towards Michael’s cigarette.

Michael offered him the pack and lighter from his pocket. Harper lit one, and gave Michael a prod in the arm as he handed it back.

‘What’s been going on with you?’

Michael shrugged. ‘The Hargreaves case. I’ve worked my arse off on it, and it’s drained me.’

Harper squinted, the sun hurting his eyes. ‘And now Matthews is taking it on.’

Michael shot him a look. ‘I wasn’t aware that was common knowledge yet.’

‘It wasn’t until, like, five minutes ago, when he waltzed out the Guv’s office, smug grin on his face, and made a big show of collecting the Hargreaves files.’ He gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Wasn’t very subtle, mate.’ He paused. ‘I’m gutted for you, if I’m honest. The one chance we had to get Hargreaves once and for all and you could’ve nailed him. Now, I’m not so sure…’

Michael plucked the half-smoked cigarette from between his lips and chucked it to the ground.

‘You’d better keep that to yourself, Gabe,’ he said, brushing past him on his way back into the building.