Splinter the Silence (12 page)

Carol reached out blindly to Flash, who laid her head on her mistress’s lap. She fondled the dog’s soft ears, buying herself time. When she could trust her voice, she said at last, ‘If we’re going to Bradfield, we’d better go via the builder’s yard and the bed shop, then. I’ve got a spare set of keys for the Landie and we can swing by Halifax nick and pick up the other set if we’ve got time.’

And that was that. As settled as anything could be between them.

As they crested the moor, he took his second gamble of the morning. ‘By the way, I’ve arranged for us to meet Paula for a coffee,’ he said.

‘Oh, for fuck’s sake,’ Carol muttered. ‘More humiliation.’

‘You don’t have to tell her if you don’t want to,’ he said. ‘But she might already know.’

‘She’ll know. The thin blue grapevine will have been working overtime.’

‘Whether she knows or not, she’s not going to judge you. Not Paula. But that’s not why I want to see her.’

Carol swivelled in her seat, her curiosity piqued. ‘Why, then? What are you up to?’

‘There’s something bugging me about Jasmine Burton’s suicide. And because of that, I want to know more about Kate Rawlins too.’

Carol’s mouth lifted at one corner in a crooked smile. ‘You’re still suborning Paula to do your heavy lifting, then?’

‘I’d do it myself if I could, but she’s the one with her hands on the levers. And she keeps in touch with Stacey, who isn’t averse to doing foreigners for an old friend either.’

‘One of these days you’re going to land her right in the shit. And she won’t have me to pull her out of it next time.’

Tony gave a wry laugh. ‘That’s not fair. Paula and I have been a good team in the past. If it hadn’t been for her going the extra mile and dragging you out from under your stone, I might be languishing in prison right now.’

Carol’s look was sour. ‘You say that like it’s a good thing.’

‘It is from where I’m standing. Anyway, I thought it might be interesting to see what she can find out. It might keep us amused, you and me.’

‘What? A fake investigation? You think that’s what I need at this point in my life?’

He’d shrugged. ‘It might not be fake. Depending on what Paula turns up. Come on, Carol. I know you’ve developed lots of new skills lately but you’ve got a bunch of existing ones that need a bit of exercise too.’

She’d groaned. ‘Enough. So before we even spoke this morning, you were expecting me to come into Bradfield with you? What? You don’t trust me alone? You think as soon as you were out the door I’d be calling George Nicholas to fetch me a bottle of vodka?’

Tony tried to look hurt. ‘It never crossed my mind,’ he lied. ‘I merely thought you might appreciate a change of scenery. And somebody else’s company apart from mine.’

Carol muttered something under her breath but let it lie. He was, he thought, making some progress, even if he felt as if his skin was being flayed from his body with every step forward. He kept reminding himself of what he knew in his heart. Nobody was worth it more than Carol Jordan.

17

P
aula brushed her teeth in the locker room, trying to rid her mouth of the taste of the office brew. If she was going to a proper coffee shop, she wanted to taste what she was drinking. Back in the days of the MIT, they’d had proper coffee, beans freshly ground, sometimes brought back from artisan roasters by whoever had been out on the prowl. Her new team was led by a DCI who was clinging to her job by her French-manicured fingernails and who drank Yorkshire tea so strong it would have defeated builders. DCI Fielding and Paula had got off on the wrong foot when Fielding had arrested Tony on suspicion of murder, only to be proved spectacularly wrong by Paula, with more than a little help from Carol. In spite of the humiliation, Fielding had kept her job. But she’d made sure ever since that Paula’s life was as uncomfortable as it could be. Yet another reason to mourn the passing of the best squad she’d ever worked with.

When Tony had texted her the night before, Paula had startled Elinor by squealing with delight at the prospect of seeing him and Carol at the same table, actually talking to each other. There were few things more painful than watching two people who clearly loved each other tearing that connection apart. For anyone who cared anything for Tony or Carol, the past year had been purgatorial. She couldn’t help wondering what had brought them back to this point.

The question had been answered as soon as she’d walked into the CID office that morning. She hadn’t even got her coat off when DCI Fielding had appeared in her office doorway. ‘Did you hear about Carol Jordan?’ she said, unable to hide the feline smile twitching the corners of her mouth.

‘What about her?’ Paula had turned away under cover of hanging up her jacket. She wasn’t about to give Fielding the satisfaction of seeing her reaction to whatever piece of bad news she was clearly on the point of dishing out.

‘She’s been done for drink driving. West Yorkshire picked her up on Saturday night. Nothing marginal about it either. Well over the limit, I hear.’ Fielding couldn’t keep the satisfaction out of her voice. She might not be half the detective Carol Jordan had been, but she was damn sure she was never going to be caught out doing something that stupid; that was what Paula read in her tone.

Paula hid her dismay and turned to face her boss. ‘That must be a relief to a lot of people,’ she said blandly.

Fielding frowned. ‘Meaning what, Sergeant?’

‘With a criminal conviction like that, there’s no prospect of her being wooed back on to the force.’ She turned her mouth down at the corners in a sardonic expression. ‘So she’s not going to be challenging anybody else’s job.’ Then she’d walked away, not waiting for Fielding’s reaction. She armed herself with a cup of execrable instant and headed for an interview room without a backward glance.

When she sat down to interrogate an arrogant rape suspect, she put Fielding’s words out of her head. There would be time for that later. Right then, she had to focus on stripping a young man of his swagger and introducing him to the world of uncertainty and fear. This was what she lived for, in a professional sense. Her natural environment was the ritual dance of the interview, where she could use all her wiles to wheedle and worm information out of men and women who had come into the room armoured with certainty that they weren’t going to reveal themselves. Nobody was better than Paula at shredding that certainty and leaving them exposed to their own venality and criminality. It was, she knew, the reason Carol Jordan had recruited her in the first place.

By the time she’d done with the rapist, it was time to slip out and meet the two people whose brilliance had helped shape her into the cop she was now. She told nobody where she was going, only that she had someone to see about a case. Fielding wouldn’t like it, but the way Paula was feeling these days, that was a bonus.

When she walked into the hipster coffee bar on the fringes of the university campus where Tony had told her to meet, she wondered momentarily if he’d misjudged the rendezvous. But of course it made perfect sense. None of the patrons here would have the faintest idea who any of the trio was; they’d just be three old saddos who had walked in by mistake.

Paula spotted Carol and Tony right away, sitting hunched over a corner table at the back of the room. Even from this distance, Tony looked tired, dark smudges under weary eyes, his cheeks hollow.

Paula picked up an Americano at the counter and joined them. Carol was pale, her skin blotchy and dry. Her hair needed a good cut from a proper stylist, not whatever local snipper she’d entrusted herself to. In the weeks since Paula had seen her last, she appeared to have withdrawn even further into herself. But Paula was determined not to show her worry for her former boss. ‘Good to see you,’ she said cheerily as she settled into the third chair, wondering what the etiquette was when it came to mentioning drink-driving charges.

‘You too,’ Tony said.

‘Thanks for sneaking out to meet us,’ Carol said.

Paula grinned. ‘How did you know there was sneaking involved?’

Carol shrugged. ‘I don’t imagine DCI Fielding would have let you out of the building if she’d known where you were going. Especially in the light of the latest gossip.’

Paula stared at her coffee, as if there was some fascinating message there. ‘I heard,’ she said. Then she felt ashamed of herself for her lack of support. She raised her eyes and put some spirit in her voice. ‘That sucks.’

Carol fiddled with her coffee spoon. ‘I was over the limit.’

‘Even so. Is there no way of sorting it? I could talk to DCI Franklin, I always got on with him better than you did…’

Carol held up a hand. ‘No point. John Franklin is no friend of mine, but even if he were, I think he’d struggle to make it go away. It was a fair cop, Paula.’ She shook her head, resigned. ‘I was on a back road, a mile from home, in control of my vehicle and myself, which makes it sound unlucky and unfair, but in all honesty, I’ve got no grounds for complaint.’

Paula couldn’t help admiring Carol’s honesty. In her shoes, she doubted she’d be quite so accepting of her fate. ‘Makes it sound like a conspiracy,’ she grumbled. ‘But I hear you. If there’s anything I can do to help. I mean, practically. When you…’

‘Lose my licence? Thanks, I might take you up on that. It’s not exactly straightforward, living where I do.’

‘You could move back into town for the duration,’ Tony said. ‘There’s always houseboats for rent down at the Minster Basin. We could be neighbours again.’

Paula had the feeling this was news to Carol. He’d probably waited till there was someone else around so she couldn’t explode at the suggestion.

‘Yeah, right,’ Carol said. ‘The dog would love that. Cramped and confined and constrained by the inner city. No thanks. I’d rather put up with the inconvenience. Besides, I’m not doing all this work on the barn so somebody else can have the benefit of it.’

‘Well, if you ever need a bed for the night when you’re in the city, we can always squeeze you in, there’s a sofa bed in the living room.’

Carol gave an involuntary shudder. A less understanding woman than Paula would have been offended. ‘That’s kind of you, Paula, but I wouldn’t want to intrude. I think I remind Torin too much of what happened to his mother.’

‘Speaking of death?’ Tony said with his usual flair for derailing the small talk.

‘Which we weren’t,’ Carol said.

‘We sort of were.’ Paula made an apologetic gesture with her hands. ‘Let’s face it, that’s what generally draws us together. I should have known there would be something more than a decent cup of coffee on the agenda. Fire away.’ She raised her coffee cup in a toast.

Carol and Tony exchanged a look. ‘You do it,’ he said. ‘You’re better at briefing detectives than me.’

Carol shook her head. ‘Oh no, you don’t get out of it that easily. This is your bloody mad idea.’

Tony shifted in his plain wooden chair, hooking one arm over the back of it. ‘It’s probably a chimera. Remember we were talking about Jasmine Burton on Saturday night?’

Paula nodded. ‘Yes, Torin was outraged about the trolling. He was talking about it again yesterday.’

‘There’s something about it that’s niggling at the back of my mind and I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t have any idea what it relates to, but there’s something there that’s bothering me. We were talking about it, me and Carol —’ He gestured for her to take over.

‘And I remembered Kate Rawlins. Does that ring a bell?’

Paula shook her head. ‘Sorry. Should it?’

‘The radio presenter who stuck up for the anonymity of rape victims after that twat from
Northerners
kicked off about being an innocent man found guilty because of a lying accuser. You remember?’

Light dawned on Paula, bringing a blast of self-disgust with it. ‘Yes, of course, sorry. I’d forgotten her name. How crap is that? A woman gets driven to suicide because of a bunch of bullying bastards, and I can’t even remember her name.’ She flushed, feeling a wash of shame. ‘But what’s that got to do with Jasmine Burton? They didn’t even choose the same method. Didn’t Kate Rawlins do the car exhaust thing?’

‘That’s right,’ Tony said. ‘And I know this is incredibly tenuous, and my cause is not helped by me not being able to summon up what it is that’s bothering me, but it’s my job to see patterns where other people see white noise. And in my head, there’s a pattern here. Two women. Strong, competent, professionally respected women who stuck their heads over the parapet all the time, except that one time it was picked up on by the internet trolls.’

‘I prefer to think of them as inadequate wankers,’ Carol said. ‘The trolls in Terry Pratchett’s books are quite lovable. Not even their mothers could find anything remotely lovable about these twats.’

Tony scrunched his face up, as if her words pained him. ‘Well, strictly speaking, most of the people who do this have been revealed as quite pathetic and even vulnerable young men whose mothers probably do love them.’ He held his hands up to ward off the protest Carol started to voice. ‘But some of them are much more dangerous and insidious than that, you’re right.’

‘All of this is very interesting, but…?’ Paula gently interjected.

‘The pattern. Yes. Strong women with a mind of their own who didn’t back down. They stood up to the trolls – sorry, bastards. They didn’t run away and hide, they didn’t backtrack, they stuck to their guns. They acted as though they felt brave. They behaved with conviction. And then out of the blue they killed themselves. Pattern.’

‘Are you suggesting they were murdered?’ Paula had heard some wild theories from Tony over the years, but seldom anything that had strained her credulity quite this far.

‘Not as such,’ he said hesitantly. ‘Not in the conventional sense of someone killing them directly. But something happened. Something intervened between their determination to see off the bastards and their deaths. Once would be an oddity. Twice makes me wonder.’

‘And he thinks I need something to keep my detective skills from atrophying,’ Carol said drily. ‘Though what I’m going to use them for in future is anybody’s guess. So we’re all going to play at running a case.’