by Alex Clare
After a huge sniff, Donna nodded. She took a first step in the direction of the station. Robyn bent to retrieve her helmet, then gasped as a stabbing pain jabbed across her chest.
Donna looked around, tissue still around her nose. Her eyes widened as if seeing Robyn for the first time. ‘Christ, look the state of you. You saved Clyde and got hurt too. You need to get yourself checked out.’ The quaver had gone from her voice. ‘You’re coming with me to see those paramedics.’
‘Donna, I’m …’ Thinking about what she had done was making her sick and Robyn wanted nothing more than to be alone.
‘Now, ma’am.’ Donna drew herself up. ‘Seeing as it’s me, I don’t think you’ve got any choice.’
8
‘Take your shirt off.’
Robyn and a paramedic with an elaborate goatee were sitting in an interview room, which had been turned into a makeshift treatment room.
‘What? Ah, no, not here.’
The paramedic looked up from his bag. ‘What’s wrong? I need to clean your arms to put the dressings on your hands and you’re saying you’re getting chest pains. Your chest is under your shirt.’
Outside, something banged against a radiator, a sudden noise causing Robyn to jump. The sharp pain made her wince.
‘Right, so something’s wrong, let’s get a look at it.’ The paramedic took hold of the collar of the blouse and pulled it back. He froze, staring at the bra strap. ‘Oh Christ, you’re …’ He let go of the material and starting paying lot of attention to the inside of his bag.
Robyn pulled her top back into place. ‘Look, I’m fine, I think I’ve just pulled a muscle.’ She willed him to look up. ‘Let’s make this quick because there’ll be loads of paperwork coming out of this. Can you just dress my hands and I’ll be off, OK?’
‘OK.’ His eyes met hers for a moment, then he took her right hand and turned it over. With a pair of tweezers, he began to remove the splinters. Trying to take her mind off what he was doing, Robyn focused on the back of his hand. Through the thin gloves, the dark hairs showed as bumps. The man seemed not to notice the scrutiny and kept up a gentle stream of small talk to take her mind off the pain but Robyn was brooding that hair was starting to show again in the same place on her hands. The wax had been six weeks ago: this process would be a constant until she could be prescribed the necessary hormones.
When her hands were dressed, Robyn left the paramedic zipping up his bag and escaped up the stairs. After a flight she slowed: breathing too hard hurt. At the ground floor, she pressed the button for the lift with her elbow just as the doors came together. When the doors reopened, she saw Fell already inside, his dinner suit jacket undone, bow tie drooping.
Robyn stepped in beside him. ‘Evening, sir.’
Fell kept his eyes fixed forward until the doors opened on the second floor. ‘My office, Bailley. Ten minutes.’
In the empty CID office, Robyn slumped behind her desk, trying to find a position where something didn’t hurt. It was cold and she tried to put her jacket on, struggling as her arms didn’t want to bend in the usual directions. She wasn’t even sure why she’d come up other than she wanted to clear her head of work problems in the office rather than taking them home. The image of Clyde’s scared face kept running through her mind. Waiting for the lift to the fifth floor, she reasoned running into Fell was probably a good thing: she would have to face him sooner or later, so at least sooner got things over with. Her phone beeped with a message: getting it out of the holster was a struggle with her hands made clumsy by the bandages. The sight of Becky’s name on the screen made her smile, hoping it might be a confirmation of when she expected to arrive. The doors opened at the top floor.
Dad, wtf? Richard says you arrested mum and she’s in a cell. You get her out right now. Not coming to see you unless you let her go. Becky.
Her feet carried her to Fell’s office. Without Tracey’s perfume to mask other smells, the air was thick with old sweat. DI Matthew Pond sat in one chair, fingers tightly knotted in his lap. Khalid leaned against the far wall, his eyes locked to his tablet, his elbow brushing against Fell’s dinner jacket, making it swing on its wooden hanger. Fell seemed to be ignoring both of them. His office had more paper in it than usual and he was picking up sheets, scanning a few lines then discarding them without any apparent system. Robyn slipped into the vacant chair, hoping whatever Fell was about to say was short so she could call Becky.
‘This evening I was called out of the Mayor’s dinner to tell me I have an officer in hospital with a punctured lung, a man assaulted on his release from custody and a lot of people asking questions about why I cannot prevent a riot outside my own police station.’ Fell’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he turned to Matthew. ‘And all this has happened while we have a town full of guests come to celebrate the best of Meresbourne. I would like an explanation of what caused this situation.’
‘We underestimated the level of violence the demonstrators would show.’ Matthew swallowed. ‘They were all women. It appears a peaceful demonstration was hijacked by a minority from an extreme organisation whose intention was to cause trouble. Once we saw what they were capable of, we responded with measured force.’
‘This “we” who underestimated.’ Fell’s nostrils flared. ‘Who were they exactly?’
Robyn felt Matthew’s nerves. She started to get to her feet. ‘Shall I come back later, sir?’
‘Stay there, Bailley. We will get to your performance in a moment.’
Robyn subsided.
‘The media seems to have lost interest already.’ Khalid looked up, a blue tinge on his face from the screen. ‘I’ve been monitoring mentions. We’ve had a bit of coverage across the regionals though the nationals haven’t picked it up.’ There was a hopeful note in his voice.
‘It was my decision.’ Matthew spoke to the floor. ‘I got it wrong.’
‘We have six women in custody. What charges do you intend to bring?’
‘They will all be charged with public order offences.’ He shifted in his seat. ‘It’s more difficult with the assault on Clyde. We don’t know which ones actually caused the injuries because the crush was too great to see exactly –’
‘Pond, I expect charges to be brought tonight and, if possible, to keep these people off the streets while Meresbourne is hosting this celebration of all things feminist. I am not risking another humiliation.’
‘Yes, sir. We will be watching the CCTV and interviewing this evening.’ Matthew blinked. ‘If we can only charge them with a public order offence, it is likely they will be released on bail, sir.’
‘Which would be disappointing.’ Fell picked up another piece of paper. ‘And all the more reason to make sure their future events are properly risk assessed. Were you aware of this “slut walk” running tonight?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Standing up, Matthew crossed to a large-scale map on the back wall. ‘The plans changed to start from Quayside with a ceremony outside the Lady Ann Hotel at midnight, then a walk through the Docks, finishing outside the Town Hall.’ He traced the route before turning back. ‘It’s tight but I’ve got cover for it.’
‘And why are they doing this?’ The direction of Fell’s gaze swung towards Robyn, fixing just over her right ear. ‘Bailley?’
Robyn cleared her throat. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t aware of this, sir.’
Fell’s eyes rolled. ‘Disappointing. I thought you of all people would be up to date with campaigns for women’s rights.’
Out of the corner of her eye, Robyn saw Khalid shake his head.
‘This slut walk is supposed to make the point women can go about the streets at night, dressed as they wish, without it being taken as an invitation for sex. I should imagine this one will be well-attended given recent events.’ Fell steepled his fingers. ‘From the statistics Khalid collected, we have a number of unsolved attacks on women. Could there be a link with the incident at the Lady Ann?’
‘Nothing immediately suggests so, sir.’ Robyn hated t
he sound of her voice: she came across as weak and uncertain. ‘It’s a very different pattern to a street attack.’
‘I suggest the street attacks need more focus. Our performance is poor.’ Fell gave up with the paper he was holding and put it down. ‘Now tell me why you released a suspect into danger and why you acted without backup, potentially endangering that suspect and a fellow officer?’
‘The Gazette are calling DI Bailley a hero.’ Khalid turned around his tablet.
‘So now we are supposed to believe everything the Gazette says?’ Fell had not looked around. ‘I do not think that is an advisable course of action.’
Robyn took a deep breath. ‘I released the suspect because there was no reason to continue holding him. I didn’t know about the demonstration. In terms of what I did, I thought …’ She had to swallow. ‘It was the quickest way to get Clyde out.’
‘You thought? You were without equipment or back-up. I would say you acted entirely without thinking.’
She could argue but if it shortened the time she had to spend in the foetid room, it was worth it. ‘Yes, sir.’
There was a slight drop in Fell’s eyebrows. ‘I am disappointed in both of you. Pond, we have approximately two hundred and fifty academics, writers and social commentators in our town this week. You will identify who is causing trouble and regain control of this situation. When this festival is over, you will speak to the central team in Maidstone and get them to run refresher training on crowd control. Bailley, the longer this Lady Ann case goes unsolved, the more trouble we will have. I want regular updates. And by phone. I can’t find anything with Tracey not here.’
They stood up to leave.
‘Oh, and Guler. I am extremely doubtful this story will stay quiet, given how vocal some of these extremist groups are. I suggest you need to expand your media sources.’
The three of them filed in silence through the outer office. Khalid shut the door behind them, checking it was closed before speaking. ‘He’s in a vile mood.’
Matthew grunted.
‘I think we’ve got our proof it’s really Tracey who runs the show.’
Robyn appreciated Khalid’s attempt to lighten the mood. ‘Maybe you should put Tracey up instead of Fell at the press conferences – she’d tell people what’s –’
Matthew cut her off with an angry gesture. One of his uniform team had appeared from the lift. ‘Ah, sir, can you come? We’ve got problems in the custody suite and one woman is screaming blue murder because she says the cell smells of men.’
Matthew stopped, Robyn bumping into his back. ‘Sorry.’ She dropped her voice. ‘You OK?’ His jaw was set like someone trying not to be sick.
‘Fine. I’ll call you when we’re ready to interview.’ Matthew strode forward, passing the PC and disappearing down the stairs, the constable scurrying after him.
‘What about you?’ Khalid had paused outside his office. ‘You should go home.’
The corridor felt very hot, or maybe it was her. ‘Do you think Fell’s right about things being stirred up on social media?’
Khalid nodded. ‘Almost certainly. I’ve been researching this area, just in case. There are some groups at the extreme end of feminism which have almost as many problems with mainstream feminism as with men. They work almost exclusively online.’
‘Was there anything about me?’ She realised she was gritting her teeth.
‘Ah, yeah, I was going to talk to you about that.’ Khalid stepped into his office and perched on the edge of his desk. ‘Was one of the women really your wife? Sorry, ex-wife.’
Robyn leant against the door frame, trying to look relaxed. ‘We’ve been divorced seventeen years. Apart from conversations about our daughter, we’ve hardly spoken in that time. Until recently – she rang me specially to make it clear she didn’t approve of what I’m doing.’
‘Thoughtful.’ Khalid’s eyebrows went up. ‘I was at uni with one of the senior editors at South East Media – I spoke to her earlier and asked whether she can stop them broadcasting that woman’s rant against you. She can’t promise anything of course because it’s a good story.’ He picked up a fountain pen from a tray and began twisting the cap. ‘One option is for you to go out with something from your point of view to counter it or keep quiet and hope it goes away?’
The prospect of everyone looking at her was daunting. Online, she’d found out there was no point in trying to justify her existence to certain people, so more publicity might mean more hatred. ‘Ady talked about something similar a while ago. Said the Gazette could “tell my story”, be sympathetic and all sorts of stuff.’ She had managed to keep her tone light. ‘I put him off because we were hunting for a missing boy.’
‘And now?’
‘Now, I don’t want to do it because I really don’t fancy having my life in the paper for everyone to comment about.’ Robyn flexed her shoulders, feeling some of the tension release.
‘Can I ask you a personal question?’ He paused though not long enough for Robyn to object. ‘If the divorce was so long ago, why does your ex still hate you so much?’
Robyn laughed, enjoying the surprise on Khalid’s face. ‘It’s because I’m trans.’ It was getting easier to say. ‘Julie belongs to the branch of feminism that believes trans women are actively a threat to women.’ She tried to keep her tone light. ‘She believes people like me are just dressing up as women in order to go and act like a pervert in public toilets.’
‘I can’t see you doing that.’ Khalid glanced over his tablet’s screen and their eyes met for a second. ‘Oh, by the way, was the suspect hurt?’
‘I don’t know.’ Saying the words out loud made her ignorance more shocking. ‘I saw him on the ground, then he was gone. I’ll check on him.’
‘Good idea. He might complain we abandoned him and try and get some sympathy on TV.’
‘I don’t think he’ll be glad to see any more police today.’ Robyn shook her head. ‘And all of Matthew’s resources will be deployed tonight. The earliest we could go would be in the morning.’
‘Oh, of course, the slut walk.’ Khalid shut his eyes for a second. ‘And you. Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘Fine.’ The last thing she wanted was someone making a fuss. ‘Thanks.’ She turned for the door.
‘Call me tomorrow with an update for Fell’s panel appearance.’ Khalid’s voice followed her into the corridor.
She gave up the idea of walking down the three flights of stairs to the incident room. While waiting for the lift, images of the riot ran through her mind but now there was a detached commentator pointing out other things she could have done. She hadn’t thought beyond drawing the mob’s attention away from the men on the floor. It hadn’t occurred to her before that by charging in she might have caused Clyde’s injuries. Now the idea was planted, it seemed very possible. With a heavy lump of guilt lodged in her stomach, she resolved to contact Newman as soon as possible because there was nothing she could do at the moment to help Clyde.
A savoury smell filled the incident room. Lorraine was forking noodles from a yellow tub. A chocolate bar and can of drink sat on the desk in front of her. Robyn felt her mouth begin to water.
‘Blimey, Guv.’ One noodle hung down Lorraine’s chin until she poked it into her mouth with a finger. ‘Who’d have thought it would kick off like that? I’d packed up, then got a message from the photographer that all the photos were now on the website. I came back up thinking I’d have a quick look when I heard noise outside and I saw the fight start. By the time I got down there, it was all over.’ She took another forkful. ‘Are you OK?’
‘I’m fine. We need to find Newman, check he wasn’t hurt.’
Lorraine swallowed, looking down at the bandages on Robyn’s hands. ‘Shall I type?’ Putting down the tub, she entered something into the computer, then swivelled her screen. ‘Here are his details. You’re not planning on going out there like that are you? And what about Clyde?’ She shook her head. ‘Those mad bitches downstairs ar
e going to be charged, right?’
Robyn nodded. ‘Matthew is sorting that out now. Fell wants them out of the way if possible for the rest of the festival. I’ll call Newman and then I was going to watch the CCTV to support Matthew before the interviews.’
‘Ah, won’t you be a witness, Guv?’ Lorraine dropped the noodle pot into the bin. ‘You probably shouldn’t be on the interview panel. Could I do it? It’ll be good practice.’
‘Of course.’ This meant, at some point, Robyn knew she would have to tell Lorraine who Julie was. ‘Good idea, thanks. Can you set up the CCTV and I’ll ring Newman.’ The phone went straight to voicemail. ‘Mr Newman, it’s DI Bailley. I wanted to speak to you. Could you please give me a call back?’ She gave her number and hung up, frustrated because nothing was resolved.
Lorraine pulled her chair over to sit by Robyn, bringing the chocolate and the drink. She must have caught Robyn’s longing look because she broke off a couple of squares and handed them across. Chewing, Robyn searched through the files until she found the daily CCTV. She picked the camera above the front entrance, set the time for an hour before the incident and started the film on fast-forward. The square in front of the police station was an empty space, people moving in a series of jerks to and from the entrance. After the timer showed half an hour had passed, in one corner there was a clump of people. After another ten, the group shifted from the corner of the screen to the centre and stood in an untidy line, some holding signs, the centre group spreading out a banner. ‘About twenty of them. Is that all? It looked like more.’
‘Hang on, what’s this?’ Lorraine stretched for the remote and returned the film to normal speed. New arrivals, with their own banners, had joined the original protestors. The enlarged group moved forward, surrounding the main doors. She paused the film. ‘Do you recognise any of them?’