Your Life or Mine

by Vicki Bradley

  ‘Look, it’s too early to talk about that now. We have to let the Department of Professional Standards carry out their investigation. I understand your loyalty to Dominik – I feel the same, but it’s a professional matter.’

  ‘Lena confessed. Doesn’t my statement count for anything?’ She shook her head, her shoulder aching. ‘I want to see him; you can’t stop me seeing him.’

  ‘I’d rather you didn’t while the investigation is ongoing. We have to let them do their job.’

  ‘If we’d let homicide do their job, who knows if I’d still be alive,’ she said.

  Winter hesitated for a moment. ‘They got side tracked by Pearce but they were doing their best. It was a unique case. Lena had access to everything, it meant she could tamper with the evidence, manipulate us all.’

  Loxton knew it wasn’t fair to take it out on him, but she hated how Kowalski was being treated.

  ‘I need to talk to you about homicide, actually,’ he said. ‘They’re recruiting next month and they’ve asked for you to apply. They’re going to offer you a position. DI Meyer was impressed with how you handled this case and the work you did in the past on Barratt. You don’t have to do the application until you’re well enough, but they’ll keep a space open for you, off the record. Murder’s what you excel at, Alana. You deserve this.’ He smiled at her. ‘We’ll miss you, of course, but I’m happy for you.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ She’d been desperate to get back to murder. It’s all she’d ever wanted to do. But somehow the joy had gone from it.

  ‘And I’ve got some more good news. Luke Pearce was sentenced to three years for dangerous driving. It’s not the full five years he could have got, but it’s something. The motorcyclist is out of the coma, although he’ll never walk again.’

  She nodded absently. Three years’ imprisonment seemed small compensation for the motorcyclist.

  ‘I’d better let you rest. Let me know what you think of the murder squad’s offer when you’ve had a chance to mull it over.’ Winter picked up his coat, ready to leave.

  ‘What about Dominik?’ she asked. ‘His promotion?’

  ‘He can forget about that for a while. You can’t be promoted while you’re suspended, so he’ll miss being posted and then he’ll have to start the process again. With what’s gone on, he needs to focus on getting back on his feet again first.’

  ‘Dominik’s going to need his friends around him.’

  ‘He’s a good officer,’ Winter said. ‘I’ll do what I can, but we have to let the DPS do their job. Now get some rest. Take as long as you need. Your new role can wait.’ He patted her arm and left her.

  She thought of Dominik, the pain he must be feeling, the confusion, and she wished more than anything that she could see him.

  Chapter 52

  Thursday 17 February, 10:00

  The building was the colour of wet sand, with a large chimney stack rising from it, dominating the skyline. It could have been mistaken for a practical church, except for the lack of any cross. It sat squat and functional in the bare grounds. There was no one around, the only noise the crunch of Loxton’s shoes through the gravel path as she made her way inside.

  The hall was plain, with nothing on the walls. There were seven neat rows of cheap plastic chairs. At the front was a set of navy curtains, part-way open, reminding her of community theatres she’d been to as a girl. Peeking through the curtains was a simple pine coffin, which sat on a conveyor belt, waiting to be pulled away.

  Kowalski was stood at the front of the room, the only attendant, staring through the gap in the curtains at the coffin that contained his old friend. The priest stood at the front facing his congregation of two, reciting the Lord’s Prayer quickly, clearly wanting the service to be over with. He threw nervous glances at the coffin and the entrance, as if anxious that angry family members of the victims would arrive, or, worse, that Lena would rise from the dead.

  It was so different from the recent funerals of Loxton’s friends, where she and Jane had clutched at each other’s hands to stop from screaming. Emma, Sarah and Gabriella – each funeral unique, but somehow chillingly the same. The churchyards had been full to bursting with family, friends and police officers gathered around the graves, people having travelled for miles to see them off.

  Here, it was just Kowalski and Loxton. She stood beside him, took his hand in hers and squeezed it tight. He squeezed back and they stayed that way as the priest finished the prayer and finally the box was pulled along the conveyor belt away from them. Once the coffin had passed the curtains, which swung clumsily closed, she felt finally free of Lena.

  Outside, the air was biting, and grey clouds raced each other across a dull white sky. Her shoulder throbbed as the cold seeped into her bones.

  ‘What will you do now?’ she asked him, wrapping her arms around herself to try to keep warm.

  ‘I’ll take her ashes back to Poland. I’ll scatter them on her parents’ old farm. They’re not too far from the main town, on a hill overlooking a lake. Her parents would have appreciated that if they were still here; they were good people. And she used to tell me it’s where she was happiest.’

  She nodded, words failing her. All she felt was the burning rage as she thought of her friends, brutally murdered by Lena.

  ‘Police work destroyed Lena,’ Kowalski said. ‘Szyman´ski destroyed her. The lines between protector and predator became blurred. And because of that, Emma, Sarah and Gabriella are dead.’

  ‘She was ill,’ Loxton said. She had to believe that. The idea that anyone could be so easily corrupted was too much to accept.

  Kowalski closed his eyes for a moment, lost in thought.

  ‘When’s the misconduct hearing?’ she asked, desperate to pull him away from thoughts of the past. And secretly she couldn’t bear to hear him talk of Lena. It was too raw.

  ‘In a couple of months. I guess I’ll be seeing you then; I’m afraid they’re going to call you. That’s what my federation representative told me.’

  ‘I’ve talked to Winter about this. I want to come with you for the whole hearing.’

  Kowalski looked away. ‘Can you do that?’

  ‘Yes, if you don’t mind? The board has agreed. None of this was your fault, Dominik.’

  Kowalski focused on the passing clouds. He wouldn’t look at her. ‘If Emma and the others had never met me, then they’d still be alive now. Lena had been asking people about me. Finding out everything about my life here, who I’d been involved with. If I’d made the connection between her and Szyman´ski back in Poland, realized that she was sick, then they’d still be alive.’

  ‘You told me once that we can’t worry about the what ifs and the maybes in this job. Reality keeps us busy enough. This is on Lena – no one else. She became unhinged after meeting Szyman´ski. You’re a good detective, you’ve done good things, and we’re not going to lose you.’

  He nodded, keeping his eyes away from hers. ‘I wanted to say thanks, for keeping in touch with me. I appreciate it. I’d understand if you didn’t want to.’

  ‘Dominik, we don’t give up on each other. Ever. You told me that.’ Loxton smiled at him.

  ‘Do you know which murder team you’re going to be posted to? I’m glad you’re going back. I know it’s what you wanted.’

  ‘I’m not going.’ Now she couldn’t look at him. ‘I turned them down.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m not finished with Southwark yet. And after everything, I think I need some time away from murder. To recover. I’m not ready to go back yet. We lost a lot of friends. Good friends.’

  He nodded and swallowed hard. ‘Too many. I don’t know how we’ll ever go back to how we were before.’

  ‘We won’t, Dominik. But that will have to be enough. Some things you don’t get over; you just get through them, and this is going to have to be one of them.’

  He nodded. ‘Thanks for coming today. I didn’t expect you to under the circumstances. You’d best get going. I
need to collect her ashes later when they’re ready.’

  ‘I passed a pub on the way here. I’ll wait with you. We can sit in there together.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ He looked at her in surprise.

  She gave his hand another brief squeeze and looked him in the eye. ‘More than I’ve ever been before.’

  Acknowledgements

  Normally I start by thanking readers, but as I sit here writing this, we are in the middle of the Covid-19 global pandemic. So instead, it feels fitting to start by thanking all the NHS workers, supermarket staff, teachers and essential workers who risked their lives during Lockdown to keep us going. Without them, we would have all been lost.

  I want to thank the readers, bloggers and reviewers, because without you there would be no books! I’d like to say thank you so much for taking the time and energy in these difficult times to read this one.

  Thank you to Camilla Bolton, the best agent in the world, for your faith in this book and for championing DC Alana Loxton and for all of your advice. To Jade Kavanagh for the encouragement and puppy pictures! And thank you to everyone at Darley Anderson for their continued support in the most trying of times.

  Thank you to my incredible editor, Bethan Jones, for the brilliant title and for making this book so much stronger. To Victoria Godden, my copyeditor, who once again did a fantastic job. To Jessica Barratt for your hard work and for so successfully spreading the word about this series. And thank you to everyone at Simon & Schuster for your endless enthusiasm and expertise, despite everything that is going on in the world.

  To my police colleagues in the Met Police, it was a privilege to work alongside you, and thank you for all the hard work you do every day.

  Thanks to my teachers on the City University Master’s course where it all began for me: Claire McGowan, Laura Wilson, William Ryan and my mentor, Alex Marwood.

  I’m so grateful to the other writers on the City Crime Writing MA I got to meet who have become firm friends, but especially to: Finn Clarke, Vicki Jones, Jane Phillips, Paul Durston, Fraser Massey and Sian Williams. Thank you for our virtual writing get-togethers that have kept me sane in these strange times.

  * * *

  To all of my friends and family (you know who you are), for your patience, encouragement and support. But especially to: Andy Niewiarowski (Grammar Panda), Tom Chambers, James Rollinson, Lucy Howard, Joanna Glenn, Elly Savin, Kalynda Bradley, Pete Bradley, Adrian Wallett, Sheila Wallett, Alan Frost and Bernard Wallett for spreading the word about the book. And to Rosie White, Mel Wilson, Lauren Koegler and Alison Niewiarowska for still being the best cheerleaders a girl could wish for.

  To my mum and dad, Sylvia and Charles Richard Bradley, for all the sacrifices you made for us and for passing on your love of reading.

  And last but not least, thank you to my husband, Mike. For all of your encouragement, patience and humour in Lockdown and for being a great co-worker (even if you did steal my writing office). And for making every day with you amazing; I couldn’t have gone on this writing adventure without you.

  More from the Author

  Before I Say I Do

  Keep reading for a preview of

  Before I Say I Do

  by

  Vicki Bradley

  Chapter 1 Julia Talbot

  Sunday

  My hands were shaking. I was terrified, but also elated by the promise of a new future: like waiting to be called for a job interview, but much, much more intense.

  Outside, the summer sun was trying to push through the white clouds, and I willed it on, as if the light would bring me luck. The hotel grounds looked peaceful, not a single person around, but the surroundings did nothing to calm my nerves.

  My palms were sweaty. Panic was building up in my stomach and rising to my chest. I took a long breath in, held it, and then I let it go. It was what my therapist had taught me to do.

  ‘Not long to go,’ Lucy said. She looked beautiful in her bridesmaid’s dress. I’d asked her to make sure everything ran smoothly, and the pressure was showing. She was like a coiled spring ready to explode. She wanted everything to be perfect for me. It wasn’t helping my rising anxiety.

  ‘We’re both ready,’ I said.

  Lucy nodded and then fussed with a loose strand of my hair, which had come free from my chignon and framed my face. She kept trying to tuck it back in, but it wouldn’t stay. She knew my fine hair was unmanageable, but today she was refusing to give up.

  ‘It’s okay.’ I moved away from her.

  ‘Sorry.’ She clasped her hands together. I wasn’t sure who was more apprehensive: her or me.

  I surveyed myself in the hotel mirror, checking every last detail, and smiled. My long blonde hair was staying up, a few delicate white pearls sprinkled throughout. My white dress fit perfectly, cascading around my feet. Lucy was reflected behind me in the glass, her brow creased with the strain of concentrating as she checked every detail too.

  I smiled at her and made tiny adjustments to my flowers and dress. I took my time. I touched up the pink gloss on my lips; the colour made them fuller. This was my moment of transformation. No one was going to hurry me. I needed to get this right. Everybody would be watching me, including Mark’s family. I had to be perfect.

  ‘How do I look?’ I grinned at her.

  Lucy’s brow creased and her lip wobbled.

  ‘Come on.’ I gave her a quick hug. ‘We promised each other we wouldn’t cry.’ She was meant to be supporting me, but here I was having to carry her, on today of all days.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ She dabbed at her eyes, trying not to smudge her mascara. ‘You look incredible.’

  She composed herself and then wrapped her arms tightly around me, her auburn curls brushing against my cheek. I untangled myself and held her at arm’s length.

  I couldn’t help but smile. Her curled auburn hair tumbled around her shoulders and her peppermint bridesmaid’s dress made her green eyes glow.

  ‘You look beautiful,’ I said. ‘It won’t be long until it’s your turn.’

  ‘It’s only been six months,’ Lucy said, but a huge grin appeared at the mention of her boyfriend, James. I was glad to see her so happy. She’d had more than her fair share of pain over the years. ‘Sorry he couldn’t come today,’ she said. ‘He really did try, but he couldn’t get out of the Dubai work trip.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ I said. ‘You’re here and that’s what matters.’ I gave her a twirl and she let out a little sob. Part of me suspected that her tears weren’t all joyful. She’d never been sure about Mark and had been very vocal about it at the beginning. When she realized that I wouldn’t give him up, she’d toed the line, but her concerns had always left me with a niggle of self-doubt. She’d known me my whole life; knew me better than anyone. I had found myself asking the same question over and over again. Was I making the right choice? But then Mark’s lopsided grin would come into my mind and I told myself I’d never find anyone like him again. The day I’d met him I knew we were going to be married and live happily together, always.

  ‘Come on, Miss Time-Keeper.’ I tapped my wrist as if I was wearing a watch. ‘Don’t we need to get going?’

  Lucy moved away. ‘Sorry. Yes. They’ll be here soon.’ She wiped under her eyes with tissue and touched up her foundation before picking up her bouquet; it matched my larger bunch of peach and yellow roses.

  I turned towards the door. As if on cue, there was a knock. A middle-aged man in a black suit marched into the room. He looked every inch the police detective, with his composed presence and the way he took control of the space. It made my heart stop.

  ‘Miss Talbot, my name is Henry.’ He thrust his hand towards me and I stared at it blankly. ‘I’m going to be your registrar for today.’ His hand hovered in the air uselessly and he tilted his head at me, a look of concern on his face.

  ‘Of course, thank you.’ I grabbed his hand gratefully, but shook it too fast in my relief. I caught a glimpse of my reflection glaring back at
me from the large mirrors on the walls. I was frowning, and my shoulders were tense. I tried to relax. I was being ridiculous. Of course he wasn’t from the police.

  ‘First off, I need to check that you are Miss Julia Talbot,’ the registrar said.

  ‘I am.’ I smiled at him.

  ‘And have you ever been known by any other name?’

  ‘No.’ My skin prickled as I told the lie. Lucy’s face didn’t change but she gave a slight nod of approval. I could always rely on her.

  ‘It’s nothing to worry about,’ the registrar said chirpily. ‘Just part of the legal process. One always has to satisfy the law.’ I suspected that he’d never been on the wrong side of it.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I tried to relax. ‘I’m all over the place today.’

  ‘I’ve yet to meet a bride who hasn’t suffered with nerves.’ He patted my arm kindly, like a father would, and I felt pain needle sharp in my heart.

  ‘Will anyone be walking you down the aisle?’

  ‘No. I’ll be walking down the aisle by myself.’ My dad’s face came into my mind, the last time I’d seen him. He was cradling his head in his hands, his whole body shaking with sobs.

  ‘Right…’ The registrar was flustered by my answer. ‘And you’ve got one bridesmaid here.’

  ‘Yes, that’s me.’ Lucy nodded at him. With Lucy stood beside me, I could do this.

  ‘And who is your witness for the signing of the register?’ he asked.

  ‘Witness?’ I looked at Lucy.

  ‘When you and Mark sign the register, you’ll have two witnesses,’ the registrar said. ‘I believe Mark has chosen his mother.’

  ‘I thought his mother and father were going to be the witnesses?’ I said. ‘They both wanted to be involved in the ceremony.’