The Mentor (4 page)

CHAPTER 3

He yawned in front of the papers spread out across his desk, then checked the time on his computer screen. It was after nine already. Saturday night, and he had been working nonstop since eight that morning. After having pored over the Thompson murder scene, he began dusting off old cases together with Miriam, searching for leads. They hadn’t found anything noteworthy. Nowadays all the information and proof collected in each case was archived in the Metropolitan Police’s main server and was available for review with a click of the mouse, but the farther back you looked, the more fragmented and incomplete the data became. The process by which material evidence was transferred to digital storage continued nonstop, but it privileged the crimes people believed to be more important than others. Minor theft or charges that were brought and then later dropped, as often happened with sexual abuse charges, wound up at the bottom of the list. You had to go back to the old paper files, which were full of irrelevant information, yellowed photographs, and barely legible handwritten notes.

Eric took off his reading glasses and pressed two fingers into his forehead, as if to drive away the ache that had been twisting its way through his head for hours.

Maybe he should give up for tonight and get a good night’s sleep. He knew that he would have to make a superhuman effort tomorrow to prevent himself from coming back to the department. His body needed rest, but his mind couldn’t stop turning over the details. He feared that if he loosened his grip, he’d be forced to come to terms with the way he was living and wind up spending another day off wallowing in memories and melancholy, full of self-pity—like he usually did on the weekends he spent without his kids. He would have loved to just go to bed, sleep all day Sunday, and wake up ready to go on Monday morning. Unfortunately, he could rarely stay asleep for more than seven hours, and so in any case he’d wind up watching the sun rise on yet another day in his useless existence.

And then he’d wind up back here, in Scotland Yard.

Eric turned off the computer and put on his jacket. Outside it was pouring rain against the window, and he had no idea where he’d put his umbrella. The St. James’s Park station was just a short walk away, but he’d already be soaked by walking from the New Scotland Yard exit to the gate surrounding the building.

As Eric walked down the hallway, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a light on in one of the laboratories. He wasn’t the only person putting in a late night. He peeked through the doorway and found someone wearing a white lab coat at a large table in the center of the room. She arranged sealed envelopes with one hand while checking a tablet, which she held in the other. Her back was turned, but he recognized her immediately all the same. Her graceful bearing and chestnut-brown hair with auburn highlights that glimmered in the bright ceiling lights were dead giveaways.

Eric stood still and watched her for a moment. Adele seemed unaware she had company. She worked in silence. Since he was headed home, he should at least say good-bye, maybe ask what she was still doing in the office. Anybody else would have, but Eric wasn’t sure how to behave with her. For the moment he settled for watching her undisturbed, unknown to anyone, even her. That didn’t happen often, and he didn’t want to deprive himself of this dubious pleasure, even though he could feel there was something inherently wrong in doing so. Maybe he should just slip away silently, hoping she didn’t realize he’d ever been there.

“Good evening, boss,” she said. Her busy, matter-of-fact tone made him wince just a little. How long had she known he was standing there? “What are you doing here? Working late again today?” The way she said this made it sound like nothing more than the usual courteous workplace convo. But hearing Adele speak directly to him gave Eric a vague sense of excitation, mixed with a subtle feeling of panic.

It was as if he’d gone back to being a teenager, getting all excited when the most beautiful girl in school happened to wave to him by chance. He was her boss, for crying out loud!

“Yeah,” was all he managed to say. “What are you up to?” That was right, he was the boss. “You should be at home. Your shift ended hours ago.” He almost bit his own tongue. He never meant to let her know that he kept track of which shifts she was covering. Who knows what she might think?

“Jane had important plans tonight, so I offered to finish cataloguing this stuff for her. It wasn’t like I had anything more important to do.”

The indifference in her voice seemed to confirm his observation, but Eric still wasn’t convinced. One thing was for sure: a girl like her would have a million things to do during the weekend, but giving your superior a helping hand never hurt. It might even wind up being useful.

When it came to work ethic, Jane had an excellent opinion of Adele, but she didn’t feel the same way about her on a personal level. Jane considered the younger woman to be something of a robot, someone who was disinterested in being friends with her colleagues and even considered herself superior to them. A nice gesture from Adele like this might improve Jane’s opinion of her. Even in a worst-case scenario, it would make Jane feel a little beholden to Adele. This favor might even convince Jane to give the younger woman a little benefit of the doubt and suspend her judgment awhile longer.

In the meantime, Adele had taken off her lab coat and put on a purple leather jacket. Now she was searching for something in her purse, which seemed large enough to pass for luggage rather than a handbag. Clearly she was about to leave the building. Maybe he should wait for her, given that they were the last two left, but he couldn’t be sure the gesture would be welcomed.

“Well . . . Have a good weekend,” said Eric. Adele seemed to ignore him, busy pulling a small foldable umbrella out of her purse. Against his will, Eric turned and started walking away.

“Hold on, boss; wait for me!” she said. “I’m headed out too.”

Eric was paralyzed as Adele emerged from the laboratory.

She closed the door behind her and walked right past him, overtaking him. Then she turned back to her boss and gave him an inquisitive look.

Realizing only then that she was waiting for him, Eric walked after her.

Adele reached the atrium and pressed the button for the elevator. Eric waited beside her, scrupulously careful not to stand too close.

She glanced at her cell phone for a moment, snorted, and then stuck it back in her jacket pocket. “Still no car,” she said, staring distractedly at the elevator doors opening in front of them. “That damned mechanic promised it would be ready this morning. Now it looks like they’re missing another piece, and it won’t be ready until next week.” She walked into the elevator, and Eric followed her. He had no idea what to say. “Tomorrow I’m going to have to borrow my sister-in-law’s beater, and then I have to drive halfway across London. What a drag.” It wasn’t clear whether she was talking to Eric or to herself. She seemed intent on listening to the sound of her own voice.

Eric pushed the button for the ground floor, and the doors closed. Neither one said anything during the short trip down. Adele buttoned up her jacket, adjusted the purse over her shoulder, and got ready to open her umbrella.

When they reached the ground floor, she left the elevator without saying a word, walking quickly toward the exit. Eric did the same, but with less conviction, watching her walk ahead of him and feeling more depressed than ever. He’d just been given an opportunity to talk to the only woman who lit a spark in his heart, and he’d wasted it. He’d been unable to say anything more engaging than “Yeah” and “Have a nice weekend.”

“I’m going to head out to Leicester Square and grab a bite to eat,” she said.

Eric looked up and met her eyes. He was stunned. He thought she’d hurried off without a good-bye, but she was standing by the door, waiting for him.

“Will you keep me company?” added Adele once he was near. For the first time she looked him in the face when talking to him. She wasn’t smiling. In fact, she didn’t seem all that convinced of the offer she’d just made him. It was as if she’d asked only out of common courtesy—another favor that might prove useful to her in the future, just like with Jane.

Even though he was aware of how things stood between them, Eric felt a jolt of adrenaline course through his veins. For a moment he was short of breath.

Adele continued to look at him. In just a few seconds her expression turned from cordial to impatient. Maybe she was already regretting the question, now tired of waiting for an answer that still hadn’t come. “So?” she asked.

Part of Eric was opposed to the way she addressed him, but at the same time he couldn’t let such a terrific opportunity slip through his fingers. “Sure, why not?” He tried to say it as naturally as he could, but his voice came out practically choked with tension.

A slight smile appeared on Adele’s lips. “Good.” Then she headed out the door. Once outside, she paused and opened her umbrella. “Come on. I’ve got you covered,” she added, looking up at it high overhead.

By the time they came out at Leicester Square station, the rain had stopped. During the ride and their transfer at Embankment station, Adele hadn’t said a word. She checked her cell phone half a dozen times, apparently entertained by the messages she was answering, and smiled vaguely in his direction every once in a while.

The more time that went by, the more crestfallen Eric felt. How could he possibly aspire to a woman like this? She was undoubtedly chatting with her boyfriend, telling him she’d be late because she’d taken pity on her poor, ancient boss and now had to nanny him through dinner. He wished he could come up with a decent excuse and escape back home, but he had nothing.

They walked across the square and soon wound up in a little side street bustling with people. It was just like any other Saturday night. There were people of all ages and from all over the world, all ignoring the foul weather, wandering around as couples or in groups. The females were dressed to the nines, wearing thin, clingy clothing even though it was barely fifty degrees Fahrenheit out. They didn’t care. Eric looked around and smiled. This unexpected landscape of laughter and happiness lifted his spirits almost immediately. He remembered when he too enjoyed blending in with the crowds. It wasn’t so long ago, walking along with his wife and enjoying life in general.

Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Adele was scrutinizing him.

They reached a pub, and as soon as they stepped inside, a young man ran over to Adele and gave her a big hug. Eric realized she was a regular here, because after the warm welcome they were ushered to a table instantly, almost by magic. He suspected that his companion had skipped ahead of a few reservations thanks to her friendship with one of the managers. Maybe she came here every Saturday; maybe there was always a table waiting for her.

He didn’t know much about her. In fact, now that he thought about it, he knew nothing about her. She might as well be co-owner of the pub, and it might be possible that the young man worked for her. Maybe he was her cousin. He certainly hoped so, because given the way they said hello, they seemed on intimate terms. Watching them together had already made him a little jealous.

They ordered steaks, and after they’d enjoyed their first beer, Eric’s mood improved even further. Adele seemed to be having fun and was more inclined to have an actual conversation. To tell the truth, they were just talking about work, but they didn’t have anything else in common, and in any case it was nice to do so in an atmosphere other than their cold, impersonal office.

“Do you come here a lot?” he asked her.

“Often enough. It’s a nice pub.” Adele looked around. “The people who work here are really nice. They serve great food and the prices are even better.” Her lips expanded into an enigmatic smile.

The alcohol was helping Eric feel a little more sure of himself, and he responded to that smile in a natural manner without a trace of guilt. He tossed back the last of his second pint and stood up. “All this liquid is starting to crank up the pressure,” he said without thinking.

Adele burst out laughing. “Go ahead, boss. I won’t hold you back.”

When he got back from the bathroom, he saw that his empty glass had been replaced with another full mug. They’d finished eating, but evidently they hadn’t finished drinking. He had no idea what time it was and wouldn’t have cared even if he did. He hoped the night would keep going and going forever.

Adele lifted up her glass theatrically to salute him. “To his majesty!” she declared solemnly, then started laughing.

Eric accepted the toast and they clinked glasses. “God save the queen!” he replied, then guzzled his beer until his breath gave out. He felt a wave of heat hit him almost immediately. It wasn’t the same beer they’d ordered earlier. It was much stronger, but he didn’t mind the added punch. What he did care about was that Adele was having fun, and from the smile on her face, she seemed to be having plenty.

“Maybe you don’t know this,” he said, “but your colleagues don’t like you very much.” Wait, what? Had he really just said that? His mouth appeared to have disconnected completely from his brain.

She laughed, tilting her head into her right hand and plunging her fingers into her hair. With her other hand, she ran her fingers lightly around the edge of the beer glass.

Eric couldn’t figure out whether she was amused more by what he’d said or by the way he’d said it. He realized he was a little drunk. No, that was wrong. He wasn’t a little drunk; he was drunk, simply and completely. He hadn’t gotten drunk in years and would undoubtedly have a raging headache tomorrow and regret every word that was coming out of his mouth—but what the hell? Maybe he wouldn’t even remember what he’d said. Whatever the case, he felt incapable of stopping himself.

“I’m serious. Except for Stern, who’s crazy about you . . .” He wondered why the heck he’d been so scared of talking to her just a few hours earlier. It was so easy now.

“Lord, that louse?” said Adele. She straightened her head and let an index finger slide down across her lips. “He’ll do anything I say. You have no idea how useful that can be, really.”