Imago (8 page)

“Goodbye.”

Kate made herself lift a hand in farewell as she reached the garden gate. Then she hurried around the corner, out of sight, and burst into tears.

Chapter Eight

“All right, all right,” said Anderton. “I can see you’re all eagerly eyeing up the booze behind me. Before we get stuck in, I want a quick rundown of where we’re at. Who wants to start?”

They were all gathered in the once-pristine office, which was rapidly returning to its usual state of messiness. Behind Anderton’s pacing figure stood a table with four bottles of champagne and a variety of glasses ranging from champagne flutes, a novelty shot glass from Ibiza and a beer mug. 
Real
champagne too, not cheap fizz.

“Anybody?” asked Anderton.

Kate waved her hand.

“I interviewed Mandy’s foster mother this afternoon. Mandy lived with the family for about five years until she left home to live with her boyfriend.”

“Would this be the junkie one? Mark Fenton?”

“Mike Fenton, sir. Yes, that’s the one.”

Anderton propped himself against the table, causing the bottles to chink against one another.

“Whoops.”

“Don’t spill it,” said Olbeck, grinning.

“God forbid. Anyway, what about this Mike Fenton? He’s the one who introduced Mandy to drugs, got her on the downward spiral. I suppose we have eliminated him from our enquiries? Anyone checked on his whereabouts?”

Jane put her hand up.

“I did, sir. Did that as soon as I had the name from Kate and Mark’s interview with Claudia Smith.”

Anderton looked pleased.

“You did? Quick work Jane, well done.” Jane smiled a bashful, modest smile. “So, what have we got?”

“Well sir, it definitely wasn’t him.”

“And why is that?”

“Because he’s dead. Died about four years ago.”

“Aha.” Anderton eased himself from the edge of the table and began walking up and down again. “Let me guess. Drugs overdose?”

Jane shook her head. “Funnily enough, no. He was killed in a car crash.”

“Well, there we go. He’s still dead. Not our guy. Okay, what else?” He looked keenly across the room. “Theo?”

Theo was from necessity sitting down; his plastered leg stuck out in front of him.

He smiled rather self-consciously.

“There was a case, in Brighton, that strongly resembles our case here. Same sort of murder weapon. Same type of victim. The Brighton case was unsolved.”

Anderton nodded. Kate, looking around at the other faces, saw a variety of expressions: uneasiness, excitement, scepticism, eagerness. Jerry was staring out of the window, his thoughts clearly far from this room.

Anderton raised his hand as if to quell a hubbub, although there was silence in the room.

“Now, I should mention that I asked Theo to look for cases with a similar MO,” he said. “Don’t go leaping to any enormous conclusions or anything. It’s just something I thought should be looked into, that’s all.”

Olbeck asked the same question Kate had asked a few days ago.

“You think there will be more, sir? Are we talking another Ipswich, or something?”

Anderton had stopped pacing. He lifted his shoulders and dropped them.

“I don’t know. I have no idea. I hope—” He was silent for a second. “We’re planning for the worst, that’s all. I hope I’m wrong.”

There was another short period of silence, more loaded than the last. Then Anderton broke it.

“Now, don’t go getting all panicky. I just want someone to follow up on the possible Brighton connection, that’s all. Get a bit more info. Jerry!” Jerry almost jumped. “You’ve got contacts there, haven’t you? Could you give one of them a ring, take a visit, that sort of thing?”

Jerry looked for a moment as if he were going to refuse. Then he shrugged.

“Okay, then. I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Good. Right then, if no one else has anything, I think we can call a halt to the official proceedings and prepare to declare this new office open.” He turned to the table behind him and picked up the first bottle, ripping the gold foil from the top.

“Anyone got anything they want to say?”

“May God bless this new office and all who sail in her,” said Olbeck, laughing.

“Quite right,” said Anderton and the cork exploded from the bottle, ricocheting of the ceiling before a spume of froth shot out from the neck of the bottle, all over the new flooring. Jane shrieked and Rav whooped.

“Shit,” said Anderton, grinning. “Don’t just stand there, get me some glasses!”

Anderton began the slow journey around the room with a tray full of brimming glasses. He paused in front of Kate, Theo and Olbeck.

“Here you go,” he said. The men took a glass each. Anderton went to leave.

“Wait,” said Kate, suddenly reckless. “I’ll have one.”

All three men did a genuine double-take. Anderton was first to recover his composure.

“Right you are.” He inclined the tray so that the biggest glass was nearest Kate’s hand. “Why not? If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, eh, Kate?”

Kate took the glass and took a sip. Anderton moved on with the now-depleted tray.

Kate became aware of both Theo and Olbeck boggling at her.

“What?” she said, a little annoyed.

“Where is Kate Redman, and what have you done with her?” asked Olbeck.

“Check her pulse, she could be an alien imposter,” said Theo, grinning.

“Oh, leave it out,” said Kate. “I do have the odd drink, you know. I’m not 
totally
 teetotal. I’ve even got pissed with you both once.”

“That was eight months ago,” said Olbeck. “And you’ve not touched a drop since, at least that I’m aware of. What’s the big occasion?”

Kate shrugged.

“Don’t know. Just felt like it, I suppose.”

“Well, damn it – cheers then.” Olbeck clinked glasses with her, and after a second, Theo followed suit.

“You got any more on the Brighton case, Theo?” asked Kate after they’d all taken a drink. “Anything that you haven’t told us?”

Theo was opening his mouth to answer when Olbeck cut across him.

“No, 
no
,” he said. “I absolutely forbid it. For once, we are not going to talk shop. Let’s talk about something else. Anything.”

“Wait while a deathly silence falls,” said Kate. Then she relented. “All right, why not. Anyone seen any good films lately?”

Once the champagne ran out, the team decamped to the pub. Jane cried off, citing childcare arrangements, but everyone else headed for the battered old tavern three streets away that had almost become a second, unofficial office. Kate, Jerry and Olbeck sat down at the usual corner table next to the flashing fruit machines. Anderton and Rav headed for the bar, and Theo hobbled out to the garden for a cigarette.

Olbeck’s phone rang. Answering the call, he waved an apology at Kate and Jerry and squeezed past them to take his phone call out in the relatively quiet street.

Kate and Jerry sat in an awkward silence, made somehow worse by the friendly tumult going on around them. Kate resisted the urge to check her own phone for messages. The unaccustomed champagne made her bold. Without stopping to think about whether it was a good idea or not, she turned to Jerry.

“So, why can’t we be friends, Jerry? Why do we have this awkwardness between us? Is it something I’ve done?”

The smaller, sober part of her was aghast. Jerry was looking at her as if she’d just got up on the table and urinated in his pint glass.

“You what?” he said after a moment.

The tone of his voice should have warned Kate off, and if she hadn’t drunk the best part of a half a bottle of champagne, she would have laughed and changed the subject and possibly ran out of the pub on the flimsiest of excuses. Instead, she repeated her question.

The long moment of silence that followed was lengthy enough for Kate to begin to feel rather unpleasantly sober. Then Jerry, not taking his eyes off hers, spoke.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he said. “I don’t like you. Why would I?”

“Why would you?” Kate was aware she was blinking rapidly and shaking her head. “What do you mean? Why – why would you feel that way?”

Jerry scoffed. He turned to look back at the beer garden, the light dimming as the long summer twilight gradually gave way to night.

“Why wouldn’t I?” he said. “Why? Why would I 
like
, much less
respect
, someone who gets ahead by getting on her back?”

For a frozen moment, Kate thought she’d misheard him. Anderton was making his way back to the table with another tray full of drinks, Rav bringing up the rear.

“You what?” she asked, shock mangling her grammar.

“You heard me,” said Jerry. “Slag,” he added, almost as an afterthought.

Kate felt her hand go out without even thinking about it. Two seconds later, the remains of her glass of wine was running down Jerry’s astonished face.

“Fuck!”

There was a confused scrimmage and a loud ‘hey, hey’ from Olbeck, who was making his way back to the table. Kate saw Jerry’s hand clench into a fist, draw back. Time seemed to slow down. She was dimly aware that her lips were drawn back over her teeth, bared like an animal’s.

“What the fuck? 
Jerry
—”

Olbeck had his hand in front of Jerry’s wine-drenched face, blocking his arm. Anderton and Rav were at the table, crashing down the drinks. There was a loud shout of “Oy! Take it outside!” from the bar. Kate and Jerry sat glaring at each other until Anderton clamped a hand about Kate’s wrist and virtually dragged her outside into the street.

“
What
 the 
hell
?”

Kate said nothing, but stood rubbing her wrist. She thought of telling Anderton – of all people! – what Jerry had said, what he’d accused her of. Rage and shame mounted in her chest, flooded her throat and rose until it was pricking the back of her eyes. She turned away, shaking her head.

“Where are you going?”

“Home,” Kate muttered. Olbeck appeared in the pub doorway with Rav close behind him. She mouthed a ‘sorry’ at them and turned, beginning to walk away, not wanting to see the surprise and shock on their faces.

“Kate, for God’s sake—”

Anderton appeared at her side. She turned her head away and walked a little faster. She was aware she was behaving ridiculously, but her hurt pride didn’t seem to be able to let her laugh it off and apologise.

“Kate Redman, would you stop behaving like a child and listen to me for a second?”

Kate came to a halt at the end of the road, finally stopped in her path by Anderton’s tone. She’d heard that voice once or twice before in her career, never in the most cheerful of circumstances. She stared across the road, seeing the passing cars and the streetlights through a smear of salt water.

“What did Jerry say to you?” asked Anderton in a gentler tone.

Kate cleared her throat.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said. “I’m sorry about throwing the drink.”

“Don’t apologise to 
me
.”

Kate finally turned to stare at him. He was looking at her in a way she couldn’t decipher.

“Well, I’m not apologising to him,” she said through clenched teeth. There was a long, charged moment as their eyes met. Then Kate turned away.

“I’m going home,” she muttered.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Don’t bother,” she retorted and then immediately regretted her rudeness. Anderton took no notice. He put a hand under her arm and escorted her across the road during a gap in the traffic.

“I 
will
 walk you home, DS Redman,” he said. “There’s a man who kills women on the loose in this town. Do you think I’m going to have you walking about after dark in a tired and emotional state while he’s still around?”

They had reached the opposite pavement by this time, and Anderton removed his hand. Kate could still feel the warmth of where it had rested on the underside of her arm.

“Women?” she asked, after a moment.

“Well, a woman. Whatever the semantics are, I’m not having you walking home alone. Is that clear?”

“Yes, sir,” murmured Kate. All of a sudden, she felt exhausted.

“Right, which way do we go?”

They walked in silence for several minutes. Kate could feel the alcohol wearing off, leaving a heaviness in her limbs, an incipient headache tapping at her temples. She rubbed her hands under her eyes. What an idiot she had been. But how much of a bastard was Jerry? Seriously, what
was
his problem? Why had he accused her of – of what he had?

“Why would he 
say
 that?”

“What’s that?”

“Oh.” Kate realised she’d spoken her thought aloud. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Okay.”

They walked on a bit further.

“Why is Jerry such a pig?” Kate burst out, unable to keep it in any longer. “Why does he have such a problem with me?”

“I don’t know,” said Anderton, mildly. “He’s never had much time for women.”

“The ignorant, sexist, stupid 
pig
.”

“Now, Kate,” said Anderton, stepping around the remains of someone’s takeaway curry on the pavement. “Sexist pig he may be, but he’s certainly not stupid.”

“No?”

“He went to Cambridge, for a start.”

Kate snorted, sure Anderton was joking. Then she looked at him more closely.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Nope. Clare College, if I remember correctly.”

“
Jerry
?” Kate struggled to keep her mouth shut as she thought,
Well, what the fuck is he doing in the police force?

“It was a long time ago.”

“No kidding.” How old 
was
 Jerry, anyway? Surely he was coming up to retirement age. Kate said as much.

“Yes, that’s right,” said Anderton. They were approaching Kate’s street. “That’s another reason I would be – making allowances for his behaviour, shall we say? He’s been on the force for years and that’s all he knows. I can’t imagine what he’ll do with himself once he retires. It’s making him snappy. Irritable. That’s all. Not to mention the fact that he’s had a bit of a hard year.”