The canteen was not a place that invited a lengthy stay. Work had to be done and the interior reflected that. There was still a task group working on improvements, but the budget was as always too limited to please everyone. Half of them wanted better furniture and the other half wanted better and cheaper food. It was hardly the setting for a romantic meal, but for a quick lunch it was not a bad place.
"Why don't you find us a place to sit while I get the food?" James suggested. It was raining outside and some people who would otherwise eat out of doors had now chosen to stay here. There was always a longer queue on rainy days. He gave her his phone, because he would not have time to answer it and someone might ring with information about Kate.
"I'm not an invalid," Sophia hissed, but she suspected that hissing had no other effect than turning him on, which was not the most desirable effect in a full canteen. As she had expected he merely laughed. She huffed and went to find a place. If he knew best, he would undoubtedly also know what food was good for her to eat. She was curious about that.
The place was rather crowded and when she found an empty table, she was almost immediately joined by another person. It was Taylor, who held the same rank she did, but then in uniform. "Aren't you eating?" he asked.
"I'm getting my food brought to me. A matter of instilling the proper respect in one's subordinates," she replied teasingly.
"Oh? I don't think anyone would do that for me if I ordered."
"I didn't order." She glanced at the queue to see how James was progressing. He had reached the soup. She estimated it would be three more minutes. "How is your family?"
"They are doing well. We have a new pony." Taylor sighed. "But the girls are eleven and nine, how could we not have a pony?"
"I don't know. I never had one. We had a rabbit," she remembered.
"We also have a rabbit."
"Well, if you have room for a pony..." Sophia coughed.
"Unfortunately we do have room for a pony. That's why they asked for one." He changed his tone. "Wasn't there a hand found outside your home?"
"How -- I'm not sure that was supposed to leak out." She frowned when she thought of Kerry coming across a police officer who would not mind telling him. But of course since he already knew, he might not ask anybody and officers not on their team might not know why they had kept silent. There might not be any harm in the discovery leaking out, but she did nevertheless not like it.
"The chief constable decides," he shrugged.
"Yes, but -- I must have a word with him. It's part of our tactic not to make these things publicly known." In principle she objected to someone else, even if he was their superior, interfering with the strategy they had decided upon without conferring with them.
"Don't worry. It was not as public as that, merely a request to keep an eye on your street. The part about the hand was only for me and Anderson."
She was a little relieved, but it was still patronising.
"But it didn't say why you got a hand."
"I'm not sure about that myself." She could speculate, but she really had no idea and the story was too long to relate to him.
"Are you staying home? Is that safe?"
"The SIO doesn't allow me to stay home alone, but I'm not staying at home at all at the moment. I don't know when I'm going back, but he won't allow me to go alone." She would have to ask him if it was safe to stay there tonight. Her mail might accumulate, as might dust.
"That's good, but bringing some old lady for company might not be all that effective."
She snorted. "Who says it would be some old lady? Because I'm an old lady myself?"
"No, no! I'm merely saying that not all kinds of company would be useful."
"He has provided me with a young man," she said solemnly. She agreed with him that old women were not as useful as young men.
"That's ironic, considering," Taylor said between bites.
"Why, might I ask?"
"Well, they would be wasted on you, wouldn't they?"
"Oh, you don't subscribe to the man-eating school of thought?"
He was taken aback by her directness and he almost choked. "I heard -- don't blame me for the rumour -- that you were transferred because you had an affair with one of your assistant chief constables."
"It's amazing what people make up," she said incredulously. "The assistant chief constable was a woman at the time. When I left she had just been made one, that is. She's deputy chief constable now."
He looked cautious. "Yes, that's what I heard. That she was a woman. Not that I mind."
"It's amazing. Recently I heard that Halburton thinks I slept my way up with male officers." She was still incredulous, as she always was when people vented their theories. "And here they think I did so with females? Why is everyone assuming such things about me?"
"I don't know. But you didn't have an affair with the ACC then?"
She glanced around the canteen unseeingly, trying to think of what to say. She had no idea what her brother-in-law wanted with regard to information about the family relationships, but since he had never said anything to her about it, she did not really have to consider his opinion. "Of course I didn't have an affair with her. She's my sister."
He was taken aback. "You don't say."
She derived some satisfaction from his shock. "I do say."
"But they didn't know in Halburton that their ACC was the sister of their DCI?"
"I don't know if the person who spread the rumour knew that or not. There are so many reasons for spreading rumours." Someone could have done so out of spite. She had filed a few complaints against people, after all. That too was too long a story to relate to him.
James' phone rang. She glanced at it, but it was an unknown number. It was not one of his team, although she had no idea if he had programmed in every single detective in their department. She had not. "Hello," she said.
"Hello?" The voice on the other side sounded slightly confused. "I was looking for James Riley."
"He can't answer his phone right now. May I pass a message?" She would rather not pass messages at all if women called him.
"Thank you, but I'd rather not. When may I speak to him personally?"
Sophia was a little annoyed that she was not deemed good enough to take a message. It did not help that this was an unknown woman calling James. "Well, I don't know," she answered.
"This is important," the other woman pressed, sounding no less annoyed.
"I'm sure it is. Which name may I give him?" She was studiously polite now.
"Tanya."
"Tanya?" She could have known this was the psycho babe. After all, ordinary women did not seem to call James back. But would a forensic psychologist calling for professional reasons really call herself Tanya? "All right. Is that enough, Tanya? Would he know who you are with only that?"
"Are you his secretary? Are you determined to be annoying?" Tanya asked in exasperation.
"His secretary?" Sophia gave an incredulous and condescending laugh. "Oh, sweetheart. I'm not his secretary, but I'll tell him you called. What is your number?" She pulled a pen and small notebook from the pocket of her jacket and wrote it down.
She could see James approaching already. Hopefully they would now return to speaking of innocent matters, although Taylor looked curious about the phone call. She moved to the chair closest to the wall, so James could sit beside her.
He greeted Superintendent Taylor and sat down. Then he unloaded Sophia's food off the tray. "I hope it's acceptable."
She inspected it. It was the healthiest he had been able to find in the canteen, that was clear. "Thanks."
"I was thinking you had an eager constable queueing for you," Taylor commented.
She shrugged. He knew James, since they attended some of the same meetings, and he knew James' rank. "Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am. Yes, ma'am. That's all you'll hear from an eager constable. I'm not sure I'd have a pleasant lunch."
"I know, but my chief inspectors wouldn't dream of offering to get me my lunch."
Sophia wanted to say James was not getting his boss lunch, but she did not dare. It was not a professional favour.
"She has embarrassing health problems and can't stand for too long," James said to Taylor confidentially.
"Embarrassing?" she spluttered.
"That only means you don't want to talk about it."
"You really have no idea what people are already thinking about me. Embarrassing health problems would just be the icing on the cake. By the way, one Tanya called you just now. She didn't want to talk to me about what she wanted to talk about to you. She thought I was your secretary."
"Aren't you?" He ignored his phone and the note she pushed towards him. "I'll call her later."
"Maybe she can't come," Sophia said hopefully.
"They'd better not replace her with some hot young man. Or worse, an older, smooth-talking creep who instantly understands your mysterious and troublesome past and who offers to cure you in return for --" He shuddered.
She saw Taylor was looking even more curious now. "Maybe you should shut up and eat, James. First you give me embarrassing physical problems and now a mysterious and troublesome past. It'll be all over the station in hours."
"I've requested the assistance of a forensic psychologist to help us understand our killer," James explained to Taylor, who might be a little confused by it all. "But the superintendent took exception to the fact." He knew to which fact in particular she had taken exception: that it was a good-looking girl in her late twenties, according to him. He did not know whether she was jealous of young women or that she thought young women could never get into the mind of older men.
"I fail to see how a psychologist could be helpful," Sophia said stubbornly. "But it's your case."
"Thank you."
"Your case?" asked Superintendent Taylor. "Then you're the one who provided her with a young man."
"A young man for what purpose?"
"To stay with her in reaction to the hand."
"How come you know about this?" James wondered.
"The chief constable informed a few people so that patrols may be extra vigilant in her street. But when are she and the young man returning?"
"The young man is still debating that, but it's probably when she starts fidgeting about needing to clean her bathroom," James replied dryly. He thought it might have been useful of the chief constable to enlighten another division, but Sophia probably did not.
She nodded. "I was thinking about that earlier. Tonight would be nice. I do have to check my mail every few days. I also receive my mother's mail."
"Are you the young man?" Taylor asked James. "I feel slow."
"Yes. I don't have dependants who'd mind a guest -- or my being away. If you could ask your teams to keep an eye out in early mornings especially that would be great. Furthermore --" He tore half off the note containing the phone number and wrote something down. "-- cars like these."
"You actually approve of the patronising act," Sophia said, looking baffled. "Which, I should remind you, took place behind your back, when you are the senior investigating officer."
"I think he knows you too well to do that in your face. Does he often act like your father?"
"He's not the only person acting like my father," she snapped, but there was little real annoyance behind it.
Because she managed to bring the subject back to Taylor's pony, they had a normal conversation for the remainder of their lunchtime. When Taylor excused himself and returned to work, they stayed. In her office she would undoubtedly be disturbed, but she wanted to hear his phone conversation to Tanya and she had more to ask him, notably about her troublesome past. She did not know where to start.
He put his phone in his pocket, but made no move to get up.
"Aren't you going to phone?" she asked. Taylor was gone. He could easily do it now.
"Here? I thought I'd do that in my office."
"I thought I'd listen in," Sophia said shamelessly.
He laughed. "Fine. I have nothing to hide."
"Why does she call herself Tanya if she is a psychologist calling a police officer? It's not very professional."
"Maybe because we attended the same course as participants?" James suggested. Everyone attending those courses had very similar-sounding professional titles. He supposed he would not have to explain to her that first names were much easier. "As equals, therefore. Don't your equals call you Sophia?"
"At courses? I don't think they call me anything. Which may be -- why did you have to refer to mysterious and troublesome past to Taylor? Now he'll think I'm a loony. He thought I'd had an affair with my assistant chief constable, which I could deny, but if you come along a minute later to say a psychologist might cure me, I don't know what he's thinking now."
"I called it mysterious because you never want to talk about it. I didn't think Taylor would assume anything about your mental health, but rather something about my being jealous."
"He isn't very quick, but those especially pick up the wrong kinds of things," Sophia said darkly. "And I'll have you know that I'm fairly normal, but maybe people here wouldn't consider me normal until I'd dated two hundred random men I didn't care for."
He erupted in laughter that was so loud that several people turned their heads. "First, I did not date two hundred random women. As for those people, I guess they were men. We tend to think you're abnormal if you don't want us."
"I thought it might be spite, since I've had the oddest comments from people I've said no to," she mused. "Why do you need that psychologist? You're not too bad for a man."
Sophia accompanied James to his office when she realised the canteen was not the best place for a private conversation or even private laughter. People had stared when James laughed, as if he either never laughed, or he could never be laughing at anything she said. She would have liked to stay in the canteen because there was less of a chance of being disturbed by work there, but if people looked at them funnily she would rather return to their floor.
He was amused when she stubbornly followed him. "You really want to hear what I have to say, don't you?" he asked.
"I do." She made herself comfortable and waited. "Did you ever date her? Kiss her?"
He let out a groan. "Sophia..."
"You keep wanting to know about my past too," she pointed out, but she felt she might have been too nosy and desperate.
James checked if any emails had come in while he was out. "True, but that's because I think it might affect you adversely. But to answer your question, she was only someone I met at a course who happened to be the only other person under forty there."
"People over forty are very bad, of course. Why does my past affect me adversely?"
He looked up from his screen. "Well, you seem to think there's only one thing on a man's mind and that he'll at least have kissed every woman he's run into in the past."
"You called her the psycho babe," she said, unhappy with his criticism because it might well be right. "What was I to think?"
"I may have been trying to provoke you. I don't think I'd call you a police babe, for instance, and we actually did something."
She noted the sudden sparkle in his eyes. "Certain types of reactions turn you on, don't they?" It was the same for her, she supposed, although she would never admit to being turned on by someone's looks or facial expressions. Intelligence and sense of humour, yes.
"They do." He walked around his desk. "But I really only want you to be happy now and not bothered by things from the past."
Her eyes almost filled with tears and she hated it. She blinked furiously to stop them. There was absolutely no reason for her to react this way. She did not understand why James walked to the door to look out until he returned to wrap his arms around her. In spite of being at work, she was more than a little eager to give in to his embrace.
"Oh, this is not good..." she said when they parted.
"I thought it was very good."
The teasing expression in his eyes was almost enough to draw her back, but thankfully her common sense was stronger. "We're at work."
"Does that mean you don't need support?" As a distinction between ranks must be preserved, he did not have a couch in his office, but he had the next best thing, a small table and two comfortable chairs. She was sitting on one of those and he had been sitting on the arm rest. Now he sat across from her, because they were at work. "I thought you needed some."
"I've been told since I was about twenty that I needed some," Sophia said dryly.
James was curious. "Did it work as well as they said it would? It did for me, but I may be a pathetic case. Don't look at me like that!" he cried when she gave him a funny look. "And I meant you needed some support right now. A hug."
"You're not a pathetic case."
"Will you marry me then?"
Sophia was too taken aback to speak. She merely looked at him.
"Well, O'Neill seems to be getting married because he's having a child," James said, fidgeting. He had no idea what had prompted him to bring up marriage before he was sure she would say yes, but he had done it now and he would have to see it through. "It's probably a good thing to do."
It probably was and it had not crossed her mind for a second so far, only that they would have to think about living together. He was waiting for a reaction, she saw. "There's nothing wrong with not marrying," she said slowly. "But I suppose it would be in my best interests to tie you down."
That was not the sort of answer he had been expecting. "Really?"
"But..." she said in an ominous voice. Although it was in her best interests to make it more difficult for him to leave her for greener pastures, she wanted him to make a choice, not to feel an obligation.
"Oh no."
"I'm not going to say yes if the only benefit you see is for the child."
He looked away for a few moments as if to come up with a good answer. "At the risk of worrying you unnecessarily, the chances of it going wrong at your age are larger than for someone younger, so I'm aware that there may not be a child at all -- and I want something regardless. It doesn't have to be marriage. Moving in with me is fine."
"Oh," she said with a sharp intake of breath. "I know. I'm old."
"I shouldn't have said that," he concluded.
"I don't want to be reminded of the fact that I'm in decline."
"Decline? Just how attractive were you when you were twenty?" he asked instantly. "Besides, your mother told me you have a younger sister."
"I've never been attractive," she said in the tone she had not used on him for days. "And what about my younger sister?"
"It means your mother had a child at forty-three and then another."
That was true and she said nothing, until he advanced towards her. "What are you doing?"
He pulled her from the chair. "You know, we went swimming this morning and you were the most attractive woman in the pool, even if you weren't wearing the pink bikinis. All that and intelligent too."
"That would sound really romantic to anyone who didn't know that all other women there were well over seventy," Sophia said sarcastically. She liked his words in principle, though, but she was a little afraid of that.
"I love sarcasm. It turns me on too. Why didn't you invite me on a date when you just came to work here?" James regretted that a little. They had known each other for a few years, but nothing had ever happened.
She looked up at him archly. "Because you've only recently acquired some more maturity."
"That's why they call you the Ice Cube, you know."
"Well, I'm trying to prevent the 'but we could have had three children by now and now you're too old' comments." Those would make her a little bitter, but she really did not think he would have been ready for anything before now.
"A whole tray of little ice cubes," he laughed.
Sophia guffawed. There were at least ten cubes in a tray. Far too much. "Also, when I came here you were a DI."
"Snob. Why don't you go and ruminate on my case with Lewis in a retail environment?"
"As if I don't have any work to do."
"I have a feeling you and she are equally unproductive today and you'd be better off spending money or eating cake. Oh. I forgot you wanted to listen to my phone call."
She really did not distrust him and perhaps she should start behaving that way. "No, it's all right. I'm satisfied."
Sophia took his advice and checked on Lewis, who was staring at faxes with a vacant expression in her eyes. "Judy," she said in her most motherly voice. James would be proud of her. "Get your coat. We're going shopping."
"Shopping?" asked Mann. "What about work?"
"Do you like shopping?"
"No."
"Then shut up. Come along, Judy."
"Yes, ma'am," Lewis replied, but it was doubtful whether she had completely processed what they were going to do.
"Where are the shops with baby things here in this town?" Sophia asked when they were outside. She had never paid attention.
"What are we going to do?"
"Shopping. You must show me the shops."
Instead of showing the way, Lewis stopped walking. "Have you got anything to buy? Are you pregnant? Did you take the test?"
"Well, maybe." She did not know if it was politic to reveal. Lewis might be able to keep silent about a lover, but if they were both pregnant some unguarded comments might slip out.
Lewis did apparently not need a literal confirmation at all. "But if we buy things for the babies we are forced to have them. Otherwise it would be such a waste of money."
"Yes," Sophia sighed. "I'm leaning towards having it, if only because my lover would simply try again."
"It's not that unpleasant to try again, is it? But don't forget the pill. Did you also forget it? It would make me feel less stupid."
"If I told you, you'd feel a genius. Let's just leave it at that."
"Sorry," Lewis mumbled humbly. "I forgot you didn't even know what it looked like."
There was nothing she could or wanted to say to that. She had not recognised it, which was stupid, because a closer look would certainly have told her what it was. But none of that meant that she did not know what the pill was for. Of course she knew that. She was only selectively stupid and ignorant, just like everyone else.
Bradley, Ayles and Baker had asked around in town and although they had found enough people who admitted to knowing of Poles perhaps not very legally working in construction and painting jobs, those had all been speaking of jobs that had ended weeks before. They were not able to give them any addresses where Poles might be found at this moment. At long last one of them thought to ask them for an address where the Poles had supposedly been, in case they had been recommended for their next job by word of mouth.
"So we got there and the house was freshly painted," Baker told James. "The owner couldn't deny that, even though she said she had maybe hired Polish workers. I told her we didn't care about them in particular, nor about her hiring them, but that we needed to ask them if they had ever met a particular Polish girl. After this she was a little more cooperative and she referred us to friends of hers, at whose house they were going to do a job after hers. She wasn't sure if they had finished yet. This lady, by the way, talked about two men. She didn't think there were more, or her friends could have been helped instantly."
"Two men." James screwed up his face. "That's hardly a community that the girl might have turned to when she got here. They might not even have met. But go on."
"When we got to the other address, the men had already stopped working for the day because it was raining too hard. The owners of that house didn't know where they were staying. They said they had no need to know, because the men were absolutely reliable and worked very hard. We'll have to go there at seven-thirty tomorrow morning." Baker hesitated. "We're not going to do anything about them, are we?"
"Do you need work done on your house as well? We're not going to look into why they are here and how, unless they have anything more directly to do with our case. By the way, tomorrow we'll be visited by a forensic psychologist," James announced to his team, or what was left of it.
He had briefly spoken to Dr Hale over the phone, agreeing with her that she would be here at nine the next morning. He had not given her many particulars about the case and since she had been in a hurry, they had not touched on personal matters either. She had sounded quite business-like and he was glad for that. The last thing he wanted was someone who remembered him more fondly than he did her. Sophia would have a fit.
"What for?" Baker asked.
"She'll be looking at what we've found and she'll draw up a profile of the murderer. We're not giving her everything, though. The Super has no faith in psychologists and maybe it would convince her more if Dr Hale came up with a profile that fitted our suspect without knowing about him." He had considered it, but he thought that would initially be their best course of action. That Dr Hale might be insulted if she found out later on was of no concern to them.
"So we're not telling her about our suspect?"
"Not instantly. If she says he ought to be inserting himself into the investigation and what not, we'll of course tell her some more, but let her first prove herself, or we'll never be allowed to call in a psychologist again."
"You're afraid of the Super," Mann snorted.
"No, but she happens to be right. There's no use spending money on someone useless. So, it would be nice if all communication with Dr Hale could be through me. About the case, that is. You may of course chat her up as much as you like."
"It's a woman?"
"Yes."
"Don't you want to chat her up yourself then?"
"No."
"Is she old and ugly?"
"No."
"Don't you want to have first rights to chatting up young and pretty women, as our boss?"
"Well...er...I already used that right, basically," James realised. She was not so young, but he had still had first rights to her, even if none of the others would have cared to chat her up. And really, if she thought a DI beneath her notice, a DS and a DC would certainly be. "So now I'm unable to chat up others."
"You had a successful date?" asked Mann. "You didn't tell us about that."
"And I'm not going to either." He supposed they would find out something sooner or later, if they married or not. She was not really against marrying him, he thought, unless he did so for the right reasons. But he felt the same way about her.
The report about the hand was on his desk by that afternoon, as promised. In return, the forensic department had been given the suitcase and its contents, to see if any hairs were their body's. He added the report to the file and then wondered if the girls were still shopping.
He had sent Bradley and Harding home for a few hours so they could watch Kerry's house that evening. The others would soon go home as well and there was still no sign of Sophia and Judy, not even a phone call. There had been plenty of phone calls for her, but none from her.
Sophia was seated behind a steaming mug of hot cocoa that reminded her of her bathroom chats with James, although she did not tell Judy about those. Shopping had proved to be rather fatiguing. They had collected some catalogues of baby stuff, because neither of them had any idea of what was needed, and were leafing through them.
"Oh right," said Sophia languidly. "The DCI wanted us to think about the case. Obviously he thinks we can shop and think, but actually I'm not surprised that's he's been thinking about cases while he shops. His wardrobe contains some awful things."
"Then you'll be needing to buy two wardrobes."
"He wants to replace mine as well, so we're even."
"Why?"
"He thinks some of my clothes are frumpy, but I can't dress for fun when I'm going to work -- although work is my fun, so he may have a point there. We'll see how people react to my trousers this week." Sophia tried to think of James' case. It was difficult when one was drinking hot cocoa, but she had never been unable to think of work. "You observed Kerry's house this morning, didn't you?"
"Yes, he went running. The DCI thinks we should have run after him, I think. He said something about our not having gone after him, but I don't see how we could have done that without attracting his attention. There weren't any other people around." Lewis was a little concerned about possibly not having done her job well, although she did not see what else she could have done. "And he wasn't carrying anything."
"Is the DCI going to have someone run tomorrow morning?"
"I don't know. Could any of them run apart from the DCI? He's quite fit." She felt a little guilty for having kept him from this apparent exercise schedule, because she had not seen him do much since he had started to keep an eye on her. "Or maybe he is just naturally built that way."
"I haven't seen enough of him to know," Lewis said diplomatically.
"We went swimming this morning."
"And he looks good?"
"He's as gorgeous out of his clothes as he is in them," Sophia said before she had contemplated whether such disclosures were at all wise.
"I'm happy to hear that, ma'am."
"Don't tell anyone."
"No one else on our team will care what you think of him precisely," Lewis pointed out. "Not precisely as in what precisely you like about him, just that you like him. If you ever plan to tell them."
"My pregnancy will, won't it?" She did not want to imagine what sort of reactions that would cause. Luckily a big belly did not happen overnight. Some people might not have survived it.
"What are you going to do about work? You told me what to do, but you didn't say what you were going to do yourself."
Sophia was aware of that. "It's always easier to tell someone else what to do. I haven't decided yet. Meanwhile I'll just keep doing my job better than the father does his, so that it would be madness if I had to give up mine. Now, let's try to be brilliant about his case. He needs female input, though calling for a female psychologist is taking it too far, in my opinion."
"Okay."
"What could be the point of sending me a severed hand on the same day that he left the leg somewhere?"
Lewis thought about it for a while. "Maybe it's taking too long. Torso, foot, hand, foot -- day one, eleven, twenty-one, thirty-one, and then two things on day forty-one. The leg wouldn't have come until day fifty-one otherwise. He planned it all like that, but maybe in reality it turns out to be a very long project, longer than he likes. He won't be free from it until after four more things -- sixty-one, seventy-one, eighty-one, ninety-one. Including preparations it would be more than three months."
"It's a long game if we don't play by his rules," Sophia agreed. "No stupidity on our side to gloat over, because we've been silent recently. Would he compress the rest of his schedule if we remain silent now?"
"I hope he won't send you the head, ma'am."
Sophia shuddered. "He knows we're looking in the right direction now, though. He may try to find out how we figured that out. I'll have to prepare myself for the question. I doubt he'd phone someone else." She tapped the table with her knuckles as she thought. "I could pretend that we didn't find the foot and the leg, but -- I could even pretend that I didn't find the hand, since he left it outside my building on the pavement, but I don't know if it's believable for us to have missed all three body parts."
"Two were in different towns, though," Lewis pointed out.
"But the DCI mentioned both towns to him, so if we were at all competent we should have contacted those or been contacted by them. So I think I should have some reason at hand in case he manoeuvres me into having to reply."
"You don't have to. He's nobody."
"I'm sure he hates being nobody," Sophia said with a smile. "But you're right."
James did some work on ongoing lower-priority cases while he waited for Sophia to return. He was a little worried, although he did not really think anything could happen to her in the centre of town, but he was relieved when he saw Lewis in the car park looking unconcerned. That must mean Sophia had returned as well. He packed up his things and slowly headed for the central hall, hoping to run into her somewhere.
Sophia had been asked to see the chief constable. He had given her a ring on her mobile and after leaving Judy in the car park, she had gone up to see him.
"Shopping?" he asked again, as he had done when he had phoned. The answer had clearly surprised him, but she had not explained herself.
"It's necessary sometimes."
"I wanted to see you privately about that new structure we've been working on. Obviously I cannot say that we must promote my sister-in-law, even though I think we should, but I have been trying to stress the other sensible argument: if we are to expand your department considerably, it would not be good to have three of its five top people be new ones. I want people there who were there before and who know how it used to work. I don't want someone there who can't imagine any of that, but who insists on a clean break with old traditions."
Sophia nodded. It was a very sensible argument. She would not like to get a boss who had no understanding of how things used to be done here. Although she would not be getting a boss, she did also not want to work closely with someone who did not understand the structure they were trying to adapt to something new. She could say so, but he already knew.
"However, I didn't know what to do with your current DCI and I have even less of an idea now."
"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"He should ideally remain DCI a little longer, but for the reason I just mentioned I don't really want to get a superintendent from elsewhere to be your second in command."
"I see." She wondered why James should ideally remain a DCI. She could ask, but he did not seem to have finished speaking.
He studied her closely. "Your apparent good relationship with him doesn't help, especially not considering that you're my sister-in-law."
"I see." She wondered again what he had told other people about their family relationship. They seemed to have a tacit agreement not to mention it, but she really could not think of a moment in the past where she had actively concealed it. It was simply not very relevant to her job and since her private life had never been relevant, it had not come up there either.
But if she was promoted and someone later found out that the chief constable had given his sister-in-law precedence over an external candidate, no matter how convincing his reasons might be, there might be trouble. It would only get worse if he turned out to have done his brother-in-law the same favour. She understood.
He continued speaking. "He's good at his current job. He'd probably be good at your current job too, although I have some doubts about his ability to be diplomatic and respectful, but then, you don't score very high on people skills and your work is fine with that as well. Ideally it should be a sort of combination of the two of you, but nobody is perfect. I'm sure he'll learn as he goes what is advisable to say and what is not."
"People skills?" Sophia asked, feeling a little miffed that she was not good at something. She had always passed every course she took on the first try, even those she had only barely passed like her firearms course. She would not be able to hit a target if she stood right in front of it, but she was lucky that she did not need to. And there was more she did not need. "I mostly need writing and reading skills."
He laughed. "You know exactly what I mean. But tell me about your DCI. Are you in a relationship with him or have your people skills simply gone to the other extreme, so that you're all touchy-smiley to everyone now?"
"I think we might be in a relationship," she said cautiously. A colour was creeping into her cheeks at the idea that she had been touchy-smiley.
"Since when?"
"About two weeks ago."
"Oh god."
"What?" she cried. She could not tell if he was shocked or amused.
"No wonder there was such a high saccharine factor." He coughed. "That's all very nice and sweet, Sophia, but it's not exactly convenient at this moment."
"I'm sorry it's not convenient," she said sharply.
"You should have waited until after promotion."
Sophia's lips trembled in anger. "As if --"
"Can you still put it on hold?"
"On hold?"
"Yes. Not take it any further."
"No. It's even worse than you think," she said angrily. She was still not used to feeling agitated and it affected her ability to think before she spoke. "I'm pregnant."
"For god's sake, Sophia!"
"I'm a woman. I can get pregnant." Her eyes flashed. Sometimes she had to behave like man at work to be taken seriously, which was why some might have forgotten she was female.
He was appalled. "Two weeks and you're already pregnant? As if the relationship isn't potentially problematic in the first place."
"I know that!" she cried. She could not help defending herself. "I'm aware of that and I told him, but he sees no problems at all. He's thrilled about everything."
"If you're aware of that, why did you choose to get pregnant?"
"Choose," she scoffed. "It happened."
"Neither of you thought about preventing it?"
"I have no excuse," she said haughtily. She had not been prepared and neither had James. It was stupid and she had no excuse for that.
"This happened with your consent?"
She gave him an icy and confident look. "Practically my initiative."
"Knowing your history, Sophia, I don't believe you. When did you find out you were pregnant and when did it happen, if you've been in a relationship for two weeks? Did it start out with intercourse? That doesn't make sense, knowing you."
"I do not have issues," she said to prevent a long discussion.
"I know you don't want to have issues."
"I don't want people implying indulgently that I have issues, but that I'm too blind or stupid to realise it myself." She did not have issues. There had been incidents in the past and she had dealt with those.
He raised his hands. "I'm not implying anything, Sophia. I just think it highly unlikely for you to have have taken the initiative to sleep with someone."
"I'm not going to discuss my love life with you," she said angrily, although she had vague memories of having found certain things easier to discuss with him than with her sister. She stood up nevertheless.
"Only if you need help sorting it out? Tell him to come and see me, if you don't want to talk to me. I need to know if he's an uncertainty."
Sophia was almost spitting fire as she stormed out of his office, surprising the secretary. It was not only anger; she felt a lot she could not define. He had no right, no bloody right, to imply she had issues. He had no right to interrogate her patronisingly about her love life or to imply that things had not gone the way she said they had gone.
And now he wanted to talk to James. She knew her brother-in-law better than to think he would forget about that if she omitted to send James to him immediately. He would speak to James if he had his mind set on it, so she might as well get it over with now.
Sophia found James in the hall with a brochure on how to secure one's house against burglars in his hand. She did not even care that he had been chatting to the female reception officer rather than reading it, but she was merely glad she found him before her feelings would have grown out of control. "The chief constable would like to see you immediately," she informed him through clenched teeth.
"What about?"
"I can't say," she said with a glance at the reception officer.
"Immediately. All right." He had never been asked to see the man. In fact, when the chief constable had come to see him the day before had been the first time they had ever spoken to each other one on one. "You're not going anywhere," he ordered, pressing the brochure into her hands.
He went upstairs to the chief constable's office. He had never been there, but he had been to the assistant chief constable's who was responsible for their line of work. It was on the same floor and it looked different from the floor he worked on, naturally. Even the corridor was carpeted here. "The chief constable has asked to see me," he said to the secretary, another thing he did not personally have.
"I'll tell him you're here."
He had no idea how she knew who he was, but apparently she did. Perhaps it was her job to memorise faces so she would not have to be so unprofessional as to ask whom she might announce. She checked if he was truly expected and then she showed him in.
"Sit down, Mr Riley," said the chief constable. "Did Sophia tell you why I wanted to speak to you?"
It was interesting that she was Sophia and not the superintendent or Miss Clarke. He was still Mr Riley, though, and he preferred that. Someone he did not know personally should not patronisingly call him James. "No, she did not."
"Did she strike you as angry, perhaps?"
"Perhaps, but someone else was standing nearby and she didn't want to tell me anything."
"I'll tell you then. Sophia was angry because she thinks I think she has issues. She doesn't want to have issues, but that's a completely different matter."
"What does this have to do with her job or mine?" James wondered. He did not know if he wanted to discuss things that did not pertain to their jobs. This man was only her brother-in-law. And Sophia's issues, if she had any, were something other people should not be discussing among themselves. That rather prevented him from asking what they were, though.
"Considering her issues -- which I do think she has -- I can't make sense of your relationship." The chief constable was friendly in spite of his doubts.
"Does it have anything to do with our jobs?"
"I should think so. I'm sure you're clever enough to realise that. At first I thought it was all sugary, but today she told me your relationship came into effect only about two weeks ago, but she already knows she's pregnant. That struck me as rather quick and I took the liberty of looking it up on the internet just before you got here. It's possible, but only just."
"So?" James asked impertinently. He was astonished that Sophia had disclosed so much. Maybe she had been angry with herself and not so much with her sister's husband. And had their relationship not come into effect a few days ago only?
"It wouldn't be the first time Sophia gets entangled in some odd sexual power game at work."
James frowned. "No? I don't know anything about that and this is not a power game, whatever that might be." It was certainly not an odd sexual power game. He could not even imagine what those were, but it was disturbing that Sophia might.
"She got pregnant the moment your relationship started?"
"That's none of your business."
"Usually it isn't, but as I said, Sophia has been in situations with colleagues before and they ended up quite messy. Sophia's situations with colleagues are my business."
"I don't know what you're talking about." He wondered what sort of situations those had been, however, and if she had lied to him. She had said it was nothing, but she could not have lied to him. He felt a stab of pain at the thought. Why would she lie?
"You look uneasy," the chief constable observed calmly.
"Well, she said it was nothing. I believed her. I believed she was simply bothered a few times, but you speak of odd sexual power games, which makes me think of -- well, it makes me uneasy. Also that she might have lied." It was very painful to think she might have. He could not believe it. She could trust him and there was no need to keep things from him.
"She tends to downplay the truth. And because of her tendency to downplay the truth, I want to understand this current situation thoroughly before the nasty stuff hits the fan, you understand. My wife dealt with it the previous times, but I don't think I'm capable of sweeping everything as neatly under the carpet as she did."
"There's nothing nasty. But what was swept under the carpet? Or don't I want to know?"
"If you're in a genuine relationship, you'll want to know."
James merely looked sick.
"I'm curious as to how someone like Sophia ended up sleeping with you before or right at the beginning of your relationship. You could have forced her and then she would salvage the situation by pretending you're in a relationship. Or you could have abused her lack of experience with normal relationships," the chief constable said as if he was discussing some very ordinary things.
"She may simply have felt a physical need." He looked at the chief constable and tried to guess his age. Perhaps the man no longer had any experience with these matters. He would be used to Mrs Davenport, of course, and that woman was a much larger ice cube than Sophia had ever been. "Sophia is perfectly normal and she does not have issues."
"Sophia is a sweet girl, but I don't know if I could call her normal," said her brother-in-law. "My wife has had to get more than one officer discreetly transferred because of her. That doesn't happen to everyone. I've never had to do it for any female officer on my force."
"Well, your wife is a control freak who thinks Sophia is her child." He could not believe Sophia was insane. It was more likely that the sister had transferred everyone she did not like.
The chief constable's eyes widened at this bold remark. "Perhaps, but there were in fact serious accusations and complaints -- from Sophia herself. When I heard she's already pregnant several alarm bells went off."
"Instead of accusing me of goodness knows what, maybe you should change your opinion of Sophia," James said in irritation. "And tell me what happened in the past."
"The worst but by no means the only case was when she accused her boss of trying to rape her."
That was a little worse than being fondled in a lift or anything else that was, in her own words, on the wrong side of borderline, so he stared. "Oh. But she never --"
"I know," said the chief constable. "She didn't tell you that, or so you said yesterday. I actually believe you there. You see, her main issue is that she thinks she doesn't have issues. She a victim? Never. By now she probably thinks she should be over that completely. She might even sleep with you to prove it."
James saw how theoretically it could make sense, but he could not see it applying to Sophia. He did not think she had slept with him to prove a point, but she had only done so once, so the chief constable would say she was not really attracted to him at all. He merely stared in silence.
"Or consent to being forced, of course," the chief constable continued. "But in both cases something nasty will hit the fan after a while. I can't have that in the midst of reorganising your department. Instead of having three new people among the top five, I'd have four. Three is unworkable as it is."
His voice sounded strange. "Why was her boss swept under the carpet if he tried to rape her?"
"Politics. Not my kind of politics."
"Politics? What kind of politics?"
"Many issues. Among others, they didn't want to give any fodder to those who are against appointing women in higher ranks. See, women are trouble, they'd say. The ladies cared about that. I personally wouldn't. Besides, the man in question had a different version of events."
"And he was believed because he was the senior officer?" James asked bitterly. He did not agree with sweeping things under the carpet either, not if someone had tried to rape Sophia. He loved her.
"No. Neither was believed, since they had been seeing each other for a while."
James did not like to hear that and he frowned.
"And because there was merely an attempt. Did you hear that, son? He did not succeed. It was officially dismissed as a lovers' tiff, although my wife, who believed Sophia unconditionally, had the man transferred."
"And Sophia? What did she think? Did her sister talk her into accepting that? It doesn't make sense for her to accuse him first and then accept that nothing was going to happen. Obviously she was affected."
The chief constable shrugged. "Women rarely make complete sense. But I'm glad you and I agree that she must have been affected. She would deny it."
That sounded like her, but she would not be making excuses for the man. She could not. The man would have been making excuses for himself, but James did not see why his story had been at all believable. "What was the man's version of events?"
"That they liked it rough -- you know what -- and that's why she was a little bruised. However, Sophia said he had enough of waiting for her to sleep with him. She refused to say that to anyone other than her sister and me, though." Her brother-in-law rolled his eyes. "I don't know if this means she had made him any promises or not, or if she was withdrawing her consent at the last moment when it wasn't as pleasant as she thought it would be. Or simply because women don't make sense."
"But he forced himself on her..." He wanted to hug her. Poor Sophia. Of course she had not made the man any promises she did not intend to fulfil. "And I can't imagine she likes it rough. If she was bruised that happened against her will."
The chief constable looked unconcerned. "It's not that easy to do physical damage to her. As you know, Sophia is built like a milkmaid and he didn't get anywhere."
"A milkmaid!" James spluttered. "I'm not sure I'd like to see a milkmaid in a swimming costume, but I do like to see Sophia in one."
"Or a farm girl. Or maybe nowadays they'd call it athletic. She didn't come to much physical harm. He did, though. He accused her of assaulting him and he had the hospital bill to prove it. Are you beginning to understand what sort of mess I'd like to prevent?"
"Not really. This has nothing to do with me. I'd never force her and she'd never attack me."
"I'm not talking about a literal repetition of events, Mr Riley. I'm talking about two people who are unable to work together after the sweet turns sour. Add to this that Sophia has always been adamant that her career was her top priority. I can't see her voluntarily get pregnant. Even if she felt attracted to you she would have taken her precautions."
"So because she didn't, I forced her into something?"
"That's what I'd like to establish," the chief constable said with a sunny smile. "Why didn't you insist on those precautions then, son?"
Sophia had read all the leaflets on display and she had watched the reception officer shut down her computer and lock the front door. The cleaning ladies had come in and they were mopping the hall floor. More and more people had come downstairs to go home. She felt as if she was the only one left in the building, even though she knew she was not. Usually she went home later than this herself, but if she did she was always busy and not waiting with nothing to do.
It was horrible knowing that they were talking about her and not knowing what they were talking about precisely. It might come too close and she had no way of telling them to back off.
It was evil of John to suggest she had issues; she did not. Why was she not allowed to sleep with someone at the beginning of a relationship? She had known James for a few years already and it was not as if she had just met him. Besides, even if she had just met him it would be nobody's business but her own. She did not have any principled objections to sleeping with someone, except of course that she had to like him a lot to do so -- not that her principles were anyone's business but her own either. She was not a nun. Her mother's stupid remark made a little more sense now and she was tempted to agree with it.
Of course John might be concerned. He had known her since she was four and it might strike him as a little strange, because something like this had not happened before, but if it had happened before, it would not be happening now. She thought that was obvious.
Maybe he would have expected her to date for months or weeks first, but really, she was forty-two and not twenty-two. She did not need weeks to know whom she was dealing with. She had known James already. Not as well as she did now and some of her assumptions had been wrong, but she had had a general idea to which months of dating would have added very little.
Or maybe John thought like Jonathan Kerry did, that a little flattery was so unusual that it would blind her entirely and make her behave like an absolute moron.
When it came to his concerns about the new structure, she would agree with him, only it was not James who was the uncertain factor: she was. She was going to be out for a period of time, even if she kept that period very short.
And in practice the new structure was not going to take effect right away anyway. They were understaffed as it was, in spite of actively looking for people, so it was wholly unrealistic to expect the department to grow significantly in a short time. A few transfers from other forces or stations was all they could hope for. James might well be able to handle that on his own.
"I didn't think of them," James said candidly. "It was about four in the morning and if you wake up because a woman you unconsciously fancy starts touching you, you don't really start interrogating her about contraceptives, do you? Especially not if you think she's fifty-two. I didn't know it would lead to anything and when it did, it was too late. It's a bit rude to break it up and say you won't continue because she may be carrying diseases, isn't it? Not that I thought of it. I don't do this every day, you know."
The chief constable stared. "I think I'm really lucky that I lived in the old days when all of this was easy. In my days you married the first one you got stuck on -- and they were never fifty-two."
"I assume you were not thirty-five?"
"No, I was twenty-one."
"There's a huge difference. You were in fact never single," James said accusingly. "You don't know anything about people who are single."
"So you were single and desperate and because of that you bedded a woman you thought was fifty-two?" The chief constable looked a little amused. He was probably only kept from looking appalled because of his knowledge that his sister-in-law was only forty-two. "Why did you think she was fifty-two? And why didn't this stop you? It would have stopped me for certain!"
"It's a mistake on the website. She was too attractive for it to be of any importance until afterwards when my common sense returned. She doesn't feel fifty-two either, though I have no idea how that feels," he said to make that absolutely clear.
"Does she look fifty-two?"
"No, but it's also rude to bring that up, isn't it?"
"You got yourself in quite a pickle by not wanting to be rude."
"It's almost sorted now. She accepts people in her flat, she's not fifty-two, she's accepted that she might be in danger, she's only half-heartedly threatening with abortion..." James shrugged. It was only a small pickle in retrospect. Sophia had dropped some of her barriers very quickly. "The only thing we still need to tackle is that she fears that it will affect her career and not mine."
"And you don't see any problems?" the chief constable asked, remembering Sophia's words.
"To be honest, I have no idea what to do about the work situation, but I don't think it'll be quite as bad as she fears. She might even not even want to work so much if she has a child, but she's a bit too obsessed with equality and fairness." And while she was still obsessed, she would not want to consider other viewpoints, he believed. There was not much of a point in bringing it up every day.
"I wonder where she got that from," the other man said ironically. "Not that my wife begrudges me my higher rank, but she cannot disregard that we are the same age and that we started out in the same year. She may have a point. As for Sophia, she's lucky to be out of the operational jobs. I've never heard of superintendents getting pregnant with their first child, so I do not know how other people solved this." He held up his hand. "I'm aware that she involves herself with the operational side of things anyway, but that's her choice and no obligation. She shouldn't be at work for eleven or twelve hours."
"I am too sometimes." It was not merely sometimes, he realised. He approached those eleven hours nearly every day.
"We are aware of that, hence the structure changes. It seems wise to me, however, to set Sophia on a strict eight-hour regime from now on, considering that she's pregnant."
James nodded. She would need someone to tell her that., because she would certainly not come up with it herself. "I found her resting on her couch at lunchtime today, but at the moment I cannot leave her home alone, given the threat against her. If I worked less, say eight hours a day, the investigation would take longer as well."
"Give your team some more responsibilities and say you'll work at home between four and six, or twelve and two, or some other time. Besides, you don't have to look after Sophia yourself. I'm thinking this must be a rather boring job, looking after someone who doesn't think she needs any looking after."
He smiled. "True. But DC Lewis turns out to be pregnant as well and this is another future reduction of manpower." He did not have an endless supply of men to look after Sophia.
"Excellent. You send DC Lewis home with her between twelve and two."
"But Lewis is twenty-two or so and not at all tired."
"I didn't say Lewis had to sleep. I'm sure she can find some work to do."
At last James appeared. He did not look as if he had been put through a wringer, but since he looked a little upset with her, Sophia said nothing in case he really was. She could not think of a reason for him to be upset, however.
"Let's go to my place to pick up our clothes," he said curtly.
She was curious to know what they had talked about, but she could not bring herself to ask. She merely followed him quietly.
"You know what came up, don't you?" James asked when they were in the car.
"No, I don't."
"Did you have a relationship with your boss?" He could ask her about the rest, but there seemed to be too many sides to that story. Hers, the man's, her sister's, her brother-in-law's -- and then there was the gossip he had heard from DI Jones, for instance.
Sophia frowned. "What did he tell you?"
"Enough. Did you?"
"Not really, although he was nice enough until he became too insistent on...certain things. I wasn't sure it was wise to have a relationship with one's boss, so I had kept a little distance, but he got fed up with that." She shrugged. "Maybe I should have been clearer, but I didn't know what I wanted."
He was incredulous that she seemed to think she was in part to blame. "You were probably clear enough."
"Am I clear to you? I doubt it." Sophia let out a bitter laugh. "But you are not my boss and you have a different character. It's a lot safer to be unclear."
It was and he agreed that she was not very clear about what she wanted, not even to herself. Someone who was not as good at reading her could well have become frustrated, although that was no excuse. "So he was transferred."
"Yes. There was no working together after that."
"Because he accused you? That's what the chief constable said. Talk to me, Sophia," he said when she looked reluctant. He had her talking now and she should not stop. "He told me his version. If you want me to believe that alone, fine, but I don't think your story would be exactly the same, if only because he wasn't involved at all."
She sighed. "Since I only had bruises on my arms and he actually had a hole in his head that needed to be stitched up, he initially had a better case. They were inclined to believe him, because I couldn't and wouldn't deny that we'd been out a few times. He said I liked it when he was a little rough with me. Some of the members of the internal complaints committee believed him and they thought it was perfectly believable for me to blush and deny that. So I was nearly looking at a suspension for having discredited him with an untrue accusation."
"But your sister helped?" He was glad she had a sister.
"Yes. They didn't believe me and I had no idea I could get myself examined internally by a doctor -- I still don't, actually," she said with a little cough. "But apparently she claimed to be in possession of these documents and she threatened both him and the committee with them. They backed down."
"Why?" James did not understand how non-existing documents could have such power. He did not even really know what was in them.
"Because it would come out that they'd believed a liar simply because some years before I'd filed a complaint against types who gave me amicable pats on my behind. As for him, he backed down because he'd look pathetic if he turned out to have lied about sleeping with me. Even he knew that."
"But they never asked to see those documents?"
"He didn't have to and he withdrew his accusation. My sister advised me to withdraw mine as well and the cases were closed. Officially it was put at a draw to end the fuss, but he was transferred." She took a deep breath. "I can see why John is worried, because it took very long and it made work very stressful, but I don't think our situation is comparable at all."
"I'm certainly not like that."
She gave him a plaintive look. "I was on sick leave for a month and I got so bored. I really don't want to go on maternity leave."
"It would only be a short while until you'd get to change nappies," James soothed.
"You are awful." She leant towards him to give him a kiss. "See me initiate this. I really have issues, don't I?"
"I told him you were perfectly normal," he agreed, pulling her closer again.
Someone tapped the window after a few minutes and they parted with a start. It was Chief Constable Davenport, although he was out of his uniform. He gestured for James to lower the window. "Sweet," he said to Sophia. "But do I tell your sister about your condition or not?"
She could not instantly think. "Oh, I don't know. She would think I was ruining my career, but Mum said she would not." She hated how indecisive she sounded.
"Susannah is with your mum right now, by the way. That means I have nothing to do. Mind if I come to dinner?"
"No, but --" She made a quick decision. "James, you'll buy food while we pick up things at your flat, all right? It will save time and I won't be alone. You won't have to worry."
James looked bemused. "Sure. I'll buy some easy stuff in case I get there before you do, because you'd probably want me to start cooking if I do."
"Yes. But not easy, healthy."
"I don't know how to shop for three without a shopping list," he protested. When his parents came to dinner he always prepared himself well.
"Oh, seriously," she said as she got out of the car.
"Careful, Sophia. I have a feeling he doesn't really like control freaks," said the chief constable.
When James had done his grocery shopping, he thought he saw a red sports car some distance ahead of him when he turned into Sophia's street. It drove on, though, and did not stop. He decided not to chase it. If it was Jonathan Kerry, which he did not know, the man might have been passing by accident. The man did live in this town. It was only natural for him to drive through it in his own car sometimes. He could even have picked up some dinner at the Chinese restaurant.
It was best to keep an eye out tonight and tomorrow morning. There was not much that could happen to Sophia while he was with her, though. Nothing, he would say, unless Kerry shot him, but that would be a stupid thing to do.
He went up to Sophia's flat. Her nosy neighbour was sweeping the floor in front of her door. "There you are again," she said. "Isn't Miss Clarke with you?"
"Miss Clarke and her brother-in-law will be along shortly." The neighbour would undoubtedly wonder if he did not tell her and there was more harm in not doing so. All these men being taken up to Miss Clarke's flat all of a sudden -- the neighbour would know what to make of that, no doubt.
"Was it a bomb?"
"Oh, the package? No, it wasn't a bomb." Suddenly he remembered the print on the doorbell. He must have forgotten it because Sophia had come up with it and he had not been told about it directly. He should do something about it and write it down when he got inside. "You were very helpful. Thank you again."
The neighbour beamed, although she had not even been told what it was instead of a bomb.
James continued on. There was no such thing as a noteblock in Sophia's flat, he first thought. This made him feel rather inadequate and scatterbrained. She could apparently memorise everything. But then he opened a drawer in her desk and he saw that even Sophia needed to write things down. She merely hid it from view. He wrote down a short reminder about the fingerprint.
"It's good to have the two of you together," said the chief constable when James had finished cooking, Sophia had finished cleaning and they were all at the dinner table.
James was glad that one of his bad traits was coming in handy. He had never felt tongue-tied or deferential in front of his superiors and consequently he did not feel awkward at all about having the chief constable to dinner. It was nothing but an older man and he had not minded chatting about this or that.
"Talking to you separately is not very effective if you haven't discussed everything among yourselves."
"Oh, that," Sophia said darkly. She could venture a guess at what she might not have discussed in his opinion, but she had now. "You'll make him think I have issues." Simply because someone had grabbed her once and she had kicked him and thrown something at his head did not mean she relived this every day, or that she expected all other men to do the same.
"Don't worry. He said you didn't have any. Besides, I think Mr Riley possibly has more issues than you do."
James laughed. It was possible, but he did not care. Sophia looked at him very appreciatively, though. That was probably because he had said she did not have any issues, not because she liked men who did.
Perhaps she was taking her brother-in-law a little too seriously. He was tempted to think that the chief constable thought her unusual behaviour at once amusing and worrisome, but that he currently leant more towards being amused.
"Let's return to the fact that you're pregnant, Sophia," said the chief constable. "How does this work? When did this happen? How long will it take if you decide to have the child? What does that decision depend on? And so forth. For work purposes."
She shifted in her chair and supposed she would not have to tell him how it had gone. That, at least, was good. "It happened almost two weeks ago on a Saturday."
"On a Saturday? Could someone have told me that right away?" the chief constable exclaimed. "Saturdays imply voluntary meetings. It would have assuaged most of my doubts. But considering that you didn't take any action right away, are we to conclude you're keeping it?"
It was nobody's place to conclude anything first. "I don't know."
"When will it be, June?"
It followed that if she did not want to admit to keeping it, she could not mention the date of birth. "I don't know."
"And when does maternity leave start?"
James had looked it up. He answered when Sophia did not. "She could go as soon as six months before the birth, but she'd only get paid for three months, so it seems wise to me not to go on leave too early unless she's absolutely disabled."
Although she was pleased that he had looked that up, she could not help but feel a little pressured that he too seemed to think it was absolutely final and decided. He had more right to think so, naturally, but he should keep that to himself.
"Good. Let's assume Sophia will take her leave at the end of May at the earliest. I assume we'll have some of the new positions filled by then. We cannot leave your division completely undirected. I assume there's something like paternity leave as well?"
"A shocking two days, sir," James replied. "But only if she has consented to living with me by this point."
"Two days? We can handle that. And when would Sophia return?"
At least James did not speak as if living with her was absolutely certain. Her brother-in-law seemed to take her acquiescence for granted. This was not the right time to be rebellious, but she did not like it. The moment she got pregnant by accident, she changed her life completely and dismissed everything she had previously considered important? Sophia was overwhelmed by such presumptuousness.
James glanced at her, but she was content to let them speak about her. "When she likes, I suppose. I'm of the opinion that it can't be so very difficult to find a babysitter. My mother would do it for free, although of course she doesn't know it yet."
"You could both work four days of ten hours," the chief constable suggested. "Or three of eleven. You're already working eleven now, I heard. Or one only mornings and the other only afternoons, with the occasional Saturday to make up for the difference."
Such arrangements had never occurred to Sophia, who had been thinking it was all or nothing, and she brightened visibly when she considered a few without speaking. She was fairly normal for the rest of the evening. Her brother-in-law did not leave late; he still had some distance to drive and a usable part of the evening remained.
"He took it well," she mused to James when they were alone again. "But I hope he won't tell Susannah."
"What harm could it do?"
"She may have all sorts of things to tell me."
"Your brother-in-law has just solved the work problem for you and he is your boss, not his wife."
She was not sure it was solved, so she did not comment on it. It needed a lot more thought. "Are you going running tomorrow?"
"Around Kerry's house? Hmm. Bradley and Harding are watching him this evening and O'Neill and Mann will be watching him tomorrow morning. I have Baker and Ayles going to talk to Poles at half past seven. Only Lewis and Burton are free to run, because we need to be at the station to receive Dr Hale at nine, but I can't let a girl run around and Burton can't run. I can't go running either, because you probably didn't pack my sports clothes."
"I did," Sophia said triumphantly. John had mocked her for the amount of clothing she had taken from James' closets, but she was pleased to see she had displayed such excellent foresight.
"Good. Why don't you take a bath while I work out a little?"
"I have some laundry to do." She hesitated and gave him a slight smile. "Maybe we could shower after that instead of a bath?"
He was delighted. "But that's not to prove anything, is it?"
"I'd never do that if I didn't like it."
In the morning they went running shortly after six. James was not sure how far Sophia would be able to run and she said she had no idea either. It was not far to Kerry's mother's house and he assumed she could go that far at least, although she had not asked where they were going.
After he had rowed the night before, she had been waiting to take a shower with him. It had surprised him when she had suggested it, but he had not turned down the offer. How could he, when she had worn her pink bikinis? She had been very sweet in and out of her pink bikinis and he hoped she had not been trying to prove the point the chief constable said she might try to make.
He still marvelled at how different from her work self she could be when she was not wearing those awful clothes and when there did not have to be any distance between them. For someone who had said she could not tolerate people in her flat she was very helpful and on the whole uncritical. It was not their habits but their presence she had feared, he supposed, since some of his habits differed enough from hers.
But at least they were well-suited in the shower and in bed. He grinned.
Sophia saw his grin. "What could be so entertaining at this hour?"
"I was thinking that, while you're a little tidier than I am, at least we see eye to eye about what we like in the shower and so forth."
"How we like the shampoo bottles to be placed, you mean?"
He gave her a look. If she had not washed his hair he might not even have noticed there were bottles.
She smiled. "Eye to eye? Are you sure?"
"Very sure," he assured her. "I don't think I'm up to chasing hot women in bikinis through the shower every day."
"I don't think I'd like to be chased." And she had not been chased last night either.
"That's what I mean. Are you still all right?"
"We've only just started out! But if you want me to be able to run after someone when we get there, we should walk a little bit too. Where had you planned to go?" There were limits to her fitness, she hated to admit. She had assumed they would run in the direction of Kerry's house, although she had no idea where he lived.
"His mother's house. It's not as far as his own house and we have two men there already anyway. If he's using his mother's car we'll see if it's missing. We won't have to run rounds around her house."
"But you can't do anything if you see him drive away, for example."
"No, but we'll know he's up to something again. And I could phone the others. When he's back we'll call him in to ask what he's been investigating." James nearly rubbed his hands in anticipation.
Sophia snorted. "You'd really like that."
"Wouldn't you? We need something. I know we're making some progress with regard to the victim, but that's only good for her next of kin if we can never link it to the killer. Oh and Sophia, wouldn't you really like it if we could observe his mother's house from behind a bush together? The last time we did such a thing you nearly died from excitement."
"I'd like it even better now." She was sure he would like it just as much. Perhaps not investigating itself, but her reactions to it, which would in turn augment her enjoyment.
"Just observing," James stressed. "I remember what you said last time, but I prefer my bed -- or yours."
"Seriously, James. You just said we see eye to eye on the and so forth. I promise I wouldn't go further than excited hand-holding behind a bush."
"Love you."
Sophia smiled. He had said that the night before too, but it was still nice to hear. It was a pity she had just spent her breath saying so much. The more they ran, the less she would be able to say.
"Did you bring your warrant card?" he asked after a while.
"Why, in case other people think we're being suspicious behind that bush? Yes, it's in my bra. Did you?" She assumed he had not. She had had her doubts about bringing it.
"No, I forgot."
"How do you know where his mother lives?" she asked when they had covered some more distance.
"Someone showed her address to me and I remembered it."
"Oh," Sophia said jealously. She would have liked to be so casual about it, but nobody had ever shown her the address, as far as she could remember. If one was briefed only about the important things, one missed out on the details.
"You would have remembered it too."
"Could we walk for a bit? Do we have far to go?" She slowed down to a walk. Perhaps she could run a little bit further, but it was wiser not to spend all her energy in one go. "I never run. Sorry."
"That's good, actually. We can pretend to rest and stretch a lot while we look around."
"Well, so far there isn't much to see. Two cars and man with a dog."
"She lives around that corner there," James pointed ahead. "Number 16. Shall we run for another bit until there? It looks like a good point to look around."
"For bushes?"
"For the car. Blue."
Sophia jogged to the corner. It was further than she liked and she was glad for the break when they got there. The first house was number 20, she saw as she caught her breath.
"There's no car at 16," James observed. He tried not to sound too excited and fidgeted with his phone. "Would it look strange if I phoned at 6:25?"
"It only looks strange if you very obviously ask me about it first," Sophia said dryly.
He phoned O'Neill while Sophia stretched her legs with the aid of a low wall. He summarised the conversation for her when he was done. "Kerry left the house shortly after six. He ran down a narrow alley between houses, so they couldn't have followed him directly even if they'd tried. They tried the next street, but he was gone, so they went back. I told them his mother's car is gone, so they're coming here to see if Kerry is going to bring it back or not. It might be in a garage, for all we know. It's more important to know if he used the car than to know he returned from his run."
She agreed with him there. "What do we do?" She did not suppose they would stay here all that time, not if O'Neill and Mann were coming over, and she certainly could not run forever.
"We can run back when they get here, so we can have a shower and breakfast and prepare ourselves for work."
"I'm not sure I want to be seen by O'Neill and Mann."
"You have no choice. I'm not going to allow you to run away and I doubt you'd get very far anyhow." He gave her a smug smile. "It's not nice, but it works in my favour."
"What would they think I'm doing with you?" She did not know why she still asked the question. At some point she must get over this. It was inevitable. They would find out at some point.
"Running?"
Sophia sighed and seated herself on the wall to wait for the other two. A woman with a dog came by to look at them suspiciously. She contemplated drawing her warrant card from her bra and from James' expression she deduced he was imagining the same thing -- although he would let her pull it out herself, of course. He was too much of a nice boy to stick his hand in her bra. If he ever started doing that, he would not start in front of a strange woman with a dog.
But the woman walked on and there was no need to do anything. "You thought about my bra," Sophia remarked.
He sat on the wall beside her. "Yes, I did. It's the strangest place I've ever seen anyone keep their card."
"That's only because we're intimate enough for me to disclose it to you," Sophia believed. "Other people who keep their things in strange places aren't intimate enough with you to tell you. Or do you think I'd tell a type like Mann I have my card in my bra? He doesn't even think I wear one."
"No, that was Harding and O'Neill."
"They're all interchangeable."
"I'm glad I'm intimate enough with you to be allowed to hear these secrets." He laid his hand on her leg.
Sophia seized it in shock. "What if they're driving up this moment? That car there?"
In the distance he saw a car, but he thought it could not possibly see them. "I'm massaging your leg."
They had waited for O'Neill and Mann and then returned home. James looked for a blue car in Sophia's street, but he did not think Kerry was parked there. He nevertheless gave her door and windows a thorough look, but nobody seemed to have broken into her flat while they were away.
Showering was quick, but breakfast could be a little longer. Sophia realised she had not yet talked to him about the conversation with her brother-in-law and that breakfast was her last opportunity to do so in the next few hours. "You at least seemed to leave it up to me whether you move in with me or not."
James answered without hesitation. "Yes, because you could also move in with me, although your flat is bigger."
"I thought it was because you didn't want to decide things for me."
"Well, I don't. I thought you might like -- are you saying you don't want to live with me?"
She thought she perceived some disappointment and it had not been her intention to disappoint him at all. Her tone softened. "I'm saying I find it rather annoying how one thing decides so many other things, whether I like it or not. It's amazing just how many layers of my life will be affected by it."
"And it doesn't end there. It will always be there."
"I know. Once I'm over this shock I might be fine." She gave him a glance. "You didn't protest when John suggested things like three days of eleven hours."
"Should I have?" he wondered. It had been an example, not something they were ordered to do. He had not known such possibilities existed, so he was glad the chief constable had made some suggestions. He only hoped that the man was sure they were real possibilities, given how little he had known about maternity leave. If Sophia's only options were working full-time or not working at all, she might return to seeing problems.
"I thought you didn't want to give anything up," she said cautiously. Going back to three days was giving up at least two.
"Well...I could take care of a child if it had no mother, for instance, but if the child has both a father and a mother, the mother will like taking care of it better."
"Really?" She sounded dangerous.
"Usually," he amended. He did not really know. This was what he assumed. "But Sophia, do you think you have to dislike it because you have a good job?" She seemed to care a little too much about what other people might think.
"I see you're not trying to get me to confess that I have issues, but that I'd secretly really like taking care of a baby. It's the same thing. Both start from the assumption that I somehow don't know myself."
"In this case maybe you don't," he said in spite of that dangerous look and tone. "Isn't it good that I think you'd be sweet enough? But you've dropped the abortion idea then?"
"Are you against it?" And she was not sure that being sweet enough was enough, if she was sweet enough at all.
"Not in principle, but I am if it concerns my child. If you're adamant about not wanting it, I'll resign."
James had shocked her, he knew, because she had stared and stared and said nothing. The conversation had been over just like that. He did not mind; he had made his point. He would do as he said, but he did not think it would come to that. He had more faith in Sophia than she seemed to have in herself. Or perhaps she would call that chauvinistic ideas about women.
They went to work and arrived there shortly before eight. That gave them an hour to prepare for Dr Tanya Hale. Or rather, it gave him an hour to prepare, because Sophia had said she did not want to be involved. It was his case, she had said. Perhaps she did not want to betray too great an involvement, fearing that a psychologist might be able to draw all kinds of conclusions about her.
He reviewed the case file and photocopied everything that had to with the first three finds. It was possible that she had read about this in the media, but she could not have read about the next three body parts and he could try to keep that from her for the time being. She might wonder why she was not given any up-to-date information, but she was not here to draw up his profile.
By the time he had finished making a preliminary selection and he had added a roughly drawn map, he was phoned by the desk below -- and after a glance at the clock he realised that O'Neill and Mann still had not informed him whether Madeline Kerry's car had returned. This was strange, because it was close to nine o'clock.
When his phone rang just as he descended the stairs, he expected it to be Mann or O'Neill. It was not. It was Baker, who wanted to say they had spoken to the Poles. Since they had gone to do that at 7:30, they too must have been taking their time. "All right," James said quickly, cutting the story short. "I don't have time to listen right now, but come in right away." He wondered a little guiltily if he had made time to listen if it had not concerned news about the victim but the murderer, but he had to prioritise.
Dr Hale, a short and slim blonde -- fake blonde, he would say, because he did not recall her as such -- was waiting for him at the reception desk. He greeted her and found she was still quite good-looking. It did not affect him much, he thought for Sophia's sake. She might ask him that.
Dr Hale seemed pleased to see him; she even urged him to call her Tanya. That was something he would try to put off for as long as he could, within Sophia's hearing especially. He could guess what she would not like. It was similar to her dining with Kerry, he supposed, and it was good that he had been through that first.
After pointing out the incident room and introducing her to Detective Superintendent Clarke, who was all icy politeness, he installed Dr Hale in an empty office; the incident room would contain too much information. Then he gave her the photocopied file. "I don't know how much you've read about the case. Some of it made it into the national press, I suppose, but I haven't really kept up. Here's what I'd like you to work with for a start."
"For a start?" She leafed through it. "Do you mean this is not all?"
"It doesn't include what we're working on right now. What I'd like is a profile based on this information. Who committed this crime, why, when did he think of it, what's his aim, how will he wrap it up, will it satisfy him, would he do it again?"
"Wow, that's a lot," Dr Hale smiled. "But I'll see what I can do. By the way, your boss seems sceptic."
"She prefers evidence."
She raised her eyebrows. "I see."
"If you need anything, I'll be in my office." He first peeked into Sophia's office. "You seem sceptic, she said."
"Seem? Wasn't I clear enough? She looks like a child." There was some disapproval on her face.
Her figure, James assumed. Dr Hale was almost half the size of the tall and strong-boned Sophia, who was not even exceptionally tall. He cast a glance over his shoulder, but there was no one in the corridor near him. "And you look like a woman. Problem?"
She said nothing.
"I thought you were all for equality," he said. "I'm better off with someone the same type of height. Someone who might be able to lift me if that was necessary."
"I could never."
"Probably not," he conceded. "But you know what I mean."
She did not say if she did. "O'Neill and Mann have come back. They're waiting for you. It seems they've been using their own initiative."
"That's good -- I hope."
"Delegate and we can safely promote them."
He followed her to the incident room. He had not thought about anyone else's promotions yet, but it followed that if they went up one rank, other people had to fill the ones they left behind. O'Neill and Mann were both candidates for promotion if extra DI positions were going to be created, or if any were vacated by Patterson and Quinn. They were not the only sergeants, so they would have to prove themselves.
"We talked to him, sir," O'Neill announced. "He'd taken his mother's car. I went to see him with you, remember, so I knew what sort of excuse he might have. He was surprised when we confronted him the moment he stepped out of his mother's house after he'd put the key back, but he had his story ready, of course. He'd been investigating in..."
"Well?" James pressed.
"Halburton," O'Neill said smugly. "I just nodded and asked him what he had looked at and if he'd seen our killer anywhere. He was away for long enough, by the way. He could easily have gone to one of the next places. They all seem to be at around the same distance from here."
James looked at the map. "We've still got two arms and a leg to come. They might be found at half the distance, assuming he won't change more of his routine. What time did he get back?"
"A quarter past eight. That means he was away for about two hours, because you phoned me almost two hours before that. Even if he'd gone to Halburton as he says, he would have had an hour there, but since he didn't, he might have had even more time elsewhere."
James wondered if Kerry thought they were stupid. "He probably thought he was clever by mentioning Halburton, since we pointed out to him last time that there were two options and not one. He now took the other option. Wouldn't he know that we know as well as he does that we're not expecting anything in Halburton? I'm not sure where we're expecting anything instead." He did not have the manpower to look out in every possible location. There were too many.
"An hour? Was it research? Should we have the tyres checked to see if he went to the woods?" Sophia asked. "To bury the rest of the body?"
"If he did that he would have had to get a spade from a third house if you didn't see one," James reasoned. "And taken it back there. I'm sure someone could bury a body in forty-five minutes, but if he doesn't want it to be found, he should have walked into the woods for some distance to a remote spot."
"With a frozen leg, two frozen arms and a frozen head," Sophia nodded. "In running clothes. And without a dog."
"It doesn't look very innocent at seven in the morning," he agreed. "How heavy would those body parts be if you carried them together?"
"In a weirdly bulking bag. The other leg wasn't folded."
"It didn't fit into one bin bag," O'Neill revealed. He had been there when it was found. "There were two, but the same kind, and he'd left only one. Two makes it harder to carry, since you can't just grasp one end. You'd have to grasp the leg in the middle and hope the other parts wouldn't slide to the side and make the bag slide off."
Sophia pulled a face. "Disgusting, but thank you for the input. I think this rules out that he went to dispose of everything together. Don't forget he would also have needed to carry the spade. But what did he do instead?"
"We'll go and ask him later," James said to O'Neill. "Should be fun."
"He'll think we've come to ask him for advice."
"We'll have to think about a tactic. By the way, we have a psychologist here now. She's working on a profile, but she doesn't know about Kerry yet. We'll see what she comes up with first. And first we'll be hearing from Baker what he discovered."
Baker and Ayles had come in a few seconds before. "Yes, we spoke to the Poles," said Baker. "They met a girl called --" He consulted a piece of paper. "-- Katarzyna a few months ago. They haven't seen her since she said she was going back to --" He looked at his piece of paper again. "-- Warsaw."
"Was she Kate?"
"She could be. I have the address of the house where they sometimes met her. Some other Poles lived there at the time, but those have gone back. The landlord might have more details. The two blokes I spoke to weren't into details. She was the only girl, but they say she had a local boyfriend. They didn't know who. He took her out to dinner sometimes and he had bought her a necklace. A thick silver chain."
"Oh, nice," said James. "Like one you could strangle people with?"
Lewis had picked up Kerry's bank statements and started looking through them. He noticed that in approval. She looked a lot less useless today.
"Write it down," James said to Baker and Ayles. "And then talk to that landlord."
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