by Celina Grace
“Don’t worry about that,” Kate said, trying to drown out the noise of her growling stomach. “I’ll get something later. Now, come and sit down and talk to me.”
Ensconced on either end of the battered leather sofa, the two women faced one another. Kate eyed her friend. “How are you?”
Chloe half shrugged and pulled her face into something that resembled a half smile. “I’ve been better, to be honest.”
“Well, that’s understandable.” Kate held out the crisp packet only for Chloe to shake her head. “Oh, go on. Just one.”
Obediently, Chloe took one and chewed it slowly, swallowing as if she had a blockage in her throat.
“Have you seen the doctor?” asked Kate.
Chloe looked startled. “What for?”
“Well, I don’t know. They might be able to suggest something that might help.” Kate hesitated and added “Anti-depressants, perhaps? I don’t know…”
Chloe shook her head. “Maybe later. If—if I’m not feeling better.”
“What about counselling?”
“Well… Maybe.”
Kate leant forward. “Chloe, I’m not going to nag you, but I just want to try and help you. I could give you the number of my old therapist, Magda. She’s great.”
Unwillingly, Chloe smiled. “Thanks. I might take that.”
“Please do. In fact—” Kate grabbed her phone, scrolled through her contacts and texted Chloe Magda’s number there and then. “There. Give her a call.”
“Okay.”
Kate held out another crisp. “Go on. Get it down you.”
A silence fell between them as Chloe ate. Kate was wondering whether to ask a question when Chloe swallowed, took a drink of wine, and spoke up. “The funeral—Roman’s funeral—is this week. On Wednesday.”
Kate felt her shoulders drop as she sighed. “Oh. Oh, I see.”
Chloe looked her in the eyes. “Would you come with me? I know you didn’t really know him…”
“Of course I will,” said Kate, astonished that Chloe was even asking. But then, she was so changed; so much more vulnerable and uncertain of herself than she had been. “Of course I’ll come with you, you don’t even need to ask.”
“Thank you.” Kate could see tears brimming in Chloe’s eyes, trembling on the edge of falling.
“Where—” Kate began but then Chloe suddenly bent forward, putting her head in her hands. She looked up at Kate with a wet face.
“You know the really stupid thing? When I first heard from his mother about it, my very first thought was ‘oh, finally I don’t have to go somewhere alone, I’ve got Roman to go with’.” She gasped a laugh that was half a sob. “Going to his own funeral, I’m such an idiot.”
She started to cry in earnest, and Kate, helpless, could do nothing else but put her arms around her friend and rock her back and forth in a futile attempt at comfort.
Kate stayed with Chloe that night, borrowing a T-shirt to sleep in. It felt wrong to leave her when she was so distressed. Not that Kate was worried that Chloe would, well, do something silly but… It was easier to phone Anderton, to ask him to feed Merlin and persuade Chloe to get some sleep before making herself comfortable in Chloe’s spare room. In the morning she cooked scrambled eggs on toast and stood over Chloe until she’d eaten at least half of it.
Driving to work, Kate tried to take pleasure in the golden autumn sunlight, and in the sparkles glittering on the waves, as she followed the beach road back to Abbeyford, but it was difficult. Why was life so bloody unfair? Why did bad things happen to good people, people who didn’t deserve such unhappiness? By the time Kate pulled into the station carpark, she was feeling very depressed.
“Why the long face, mate?” Theo asked as she slumped down at her desk.
“Oh, just stuff. You know.” Kate straightened herself up and tried to get a grip. “Anyway, where are we?”
“Forensics are in.” Theo indicated a folder on his desk. “Rav’s going through the CCTV from the gym, try and see if we can get a lockdown on this Mo guy.”
“Okay, good.” Kate looked across the office, noticing that Olbeck was in his room. As she watched, he put the phone down and turned to his desk. On impulse, she went across and knocked on the glass door, smiling as he indicated for her to come in.
“I was just about to come and get you,” said Olbeck, gesturing for her to take a seat. “Guess who I’ve been on the phone to?”
“The Chief Constable?”
Olbeck grinned. “Nope.”
“Father Christmas?”
“Nope.” Olbeck chuckled. “MI5.”
“Ha, ha,” Kate said sarcastically, and then she realised he was being serious. “Really?”
“Yes, really. They’re sending down one of their intelligence officers to talk to us.”
“Blimey.” Kate felt her eyebrows rise. “So, our victim was undercover?”
“It certainly looks that way.”
“Did they give you a name?”
Olbeck laughed. “They were remarkably cagey about everything. Probably not surprising, given their profession. They just said they would talk face to face.”
“When are they coming?”
“They couldn’t give me an exact time off the bat. I’m waiting to hear back. I’d like you to sit in on the meeting, Kate.”
“Of course.” Kate was lost in thought for a moment, considering what Olbeck had said. Then she shook herself and got up. “Well, fingers crossed it’ll be soon and hopefully we might actually make some progress on this.”
“Good woman.” Olbeck raised a hand in farewell as Kate headed back to her desk.
Chapter Twelve
Like most people, Kate slept with her mobile phone next to the bed, normally charging overnight on the bedside table. Like most people, it was the first thing she reached for in the morning—after Anderton. Today was no exception. When the alarm on her phone went off, she grabbed it and swiped the screen to cease the irritating chiming, noting with pleasure that she had a message from Stuart.
Hello stranger! Long time no speak. How r things? Let’s meet up – lunch somewhere? X
Smiling, Kate texted back in the affirmative. Black Cat, today? X It was a long shot—she knew Stuart was normally busy with his private detective work—but it was always worth asking…
“Who are you texting this early in the morning?” Anderton muttered from next to her.
“My secret lover.”
“Not so bloody secret.”
“Oh, shush.”
Anderton said nothing but pulled at her hip so that she rolled onto her back. He kissed her. “Seriously, who is that?”
Kate grinned. “Actually, it’s Stuart. Hopefully I’m meeting him for lunch.” As she spoke, Stuart’s reply pinged back: a thumbs up emoji and a see you at 1 X. “Definitely meeting him for lunch, hurrah.” A thought struck her and she almost asked Anderton if he wanted to come too, but something stopped her. Anderton wasn’t on the team anymore. He had no power. The thought was painful.
“Well, give him my best,” Anderton said, oblivious to her inner thoughts. He reached for her and drew her close. “You don’t have to rush off straight away, do you…”
Kate groaned. “Tempting, but I really do.”
“Oh, come on, sweetheart.”
“I really can’t.” Kate removed his wandering hand and leant in for a kiss to soften the blow. “Tell you what, if you’re bored, why not go and see how Chloe is?”
Anderton sighed. “Okay, okay. And yes, I will.” Kate had told him everything about her visit to Chloe’s house the other evening. “I’ll take her out to lunch.”
“Good, do that. And make sure she eats something.” Kate kissed him again, more lingeringly this time. “And…you’re on a promise for later.”
It was another grey day, the sky t
he colour of dirty linen, a sprinkle of rain on the windscreen now and again. Kate flicked on the car heater and the windscreen wipers, thinking about the coming winter. She normally loved autumn and the promise of Christmas, but this year, it felt skewed, not quite right. Nothing to look forward to. Why? Her radio was on and the news headlines were being read out. The aftermath of the terrorist attack. A young man stabbed to death in London. Brexit. Brexit. Brexit. Donald Trump’s latest attempt to start World War Three. The whole country is going to hell in a handcart, was the quickest answer, but was it true?
Her mood dipping with every mile, Kate drove to the station carpark and found a parking spot. She tried her usual method of cheering up, which was to think about something nice she had coming up in her day. Lunch with Stuart, one of her good friends, that would do, wouldn’t it? But somehow, there was a grey blanket of depression smothering her and, at the entrance to the building, she felt very much like turning around and heading home again.
Black Dog’s coming. The long-forgotten phrase of her mother’s reoccurred and Kate stared at the wall as the lift went up two floors. She hadn’t thought much about her mother in ages. She remembered her mother using that phrase and, equally, the drop of her stomach as the meaning of it sank in. Kate could almost still see the dog, trailing a smoke-cloud of darkness behind it, padding over the grassy hills, the roads of Bournemouth, coming ever closer to Kate’s home, bringing its darkness and misery with it. Black Dog’s coming…
The handsome faces of Theo and Martin were a pleasant distraction when she got to the office. Shaking off her gloomy thoughts, Kate pinned a smile to her face. “Morning, guys. Any news?”
“James Bond’s going to be in tomorrow, apparently,” said Theo. He was clearly fighting not to roll his eyes.
Kate had almost forgotten about MI5. “Oh, yes?” she asked, the casual note in her voice probably not fooling anyone.
“I don’t know how much they’ll be able to tell us,” Martin offered. “I think we’re lucky they’re even meeting us.”
“Christ—”Theo began but Kate cut him off.
“Look, let’s just see what they say. It can only help, right?”
Theo went back to his desk, muttering under his breath. Kate tuned him out, turning to her horrifyingly long list of emails. Did they actually breed overnight? Sighing, she plodded through them, made phone calls and filed paperwork, trying not to clock-watch but keenly aware of the fact that lunchtime was approaching.
“Hey.” Stuart’s greeting hug was warmer than his words.
“Hey, you. How the bloody hell are you?”
“All good, as you can see.” The two of them sat down on opposite sides of the table, regarding each other with smiles. “Blimey, Kate, it’s been a while.”
“It’s my fault,” said Kate, knowing that at least 50% of it wasn’t, but she was just so pleased to see her old friend, she was prepared to take the blame.
“Don’t be daft,” said Stuart, grinning. “God, it’s good to see you. What have you been up to?”
“Where to start?” Kate filled him in as best she could, given that there was at least a year’s worth of news to be conveyed. That took them right through their starters and onto the main course. Stuart was drinking red wine, but Kate stuck austerely to sparkling water – after all, she had to go back to work at some point.
There was so much to catch up on—Stuart obviously wanted to hear about the team and Anderton as well as Kate’s news, and then he had to tell her all his news, which meant that they were ordering coffee before Kate thought to actually ask him what she’d originally set the meeting up for.
“Stuart, you were undercover for a long while, weren’t you?”
“Yes.” Stuart raised his eyebrows at her. “Although that’s a while ago, Kate. What did you want to know?”
What did she actually want to know? Bemused, Kate realised that she was so foggy about the case so far, it was hard to know what to ask. “Sorry Stuart… I just—well, I suppose I want to know what it’s like. I mean, can you confide in anyone, perhaps?”
Stuart laughed. “Of course you don’t. That’s the whole point.”
“Not even, oh, you know, your wife or girlfriend, perhaps?”
Stuart shook his head, sombre once more. “Not if you want to keep them safe, you don’t.”
“Oh. Yes, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Least said, soonest mended, right? Something like that.”
“Yes, I suppose so.” Kate thought for a moment and then added, “It must be lonely.”
Stuart looked at her a little strangely. “It’s very lonely. That’s why people don’t tend to do it for long.”
Kate nodded, thinking. Then she caught sight of the clock on the wall, a large, wrought iron one. “Oh help, I’ve got to go. Sorry, Stuart.”
“Don’t worry, babe. Hey, why don’t we all get together for drinks soon? I’d love to catch up with the guys again.”
“That sounds fab.” Kate kissed him goodbye. “I’ll text you soon. Give my love to Lisa.”
“Sure.”
Chapter Thirteen
Rather ridiculously, Kate was expecting the officer from MI5 to wear a suit like James Bond and, in fact, despite the fact she knew she was being silly, possibly even to look like James Bond. In reality, their visitor was very similar in looks to their murder victim; a young, Asian man, very good-looking, and dressed casually in jeans and a sweatshirt. Kate laughed at herself inwardly as Olbeck introduced them.
“Kate, this is Ricky Khan, from MI5. Ricky, please meet DI Kate Redman.”
“Hi,” Ricky said, holding out his hand and smiling. Incongruously, Kate noted what white, even teeth he had, their gleam accentuating the darkness of his short beard. She shook hands, smiling back. She was uncomfortably aware of something she hadn’t felt in a long while: an attraction to a man who wasn’t Anderton.
“Let’s take a seat.” Olbeck returned to his own chair as Ricky and Kate seated themselves. She deliberately sat herself as far from Ricky as she could.
Once they were settled, Olbeck opened up the file of contents on the current case and extracted a photograph of the victim, handing it over the desk to the MI5 agent. “Ricky, this is our murder victim. Can you identify him?”
Ricky perused the photograph, dark eyebrows drawing down in concentration. He was silent for so long that Kate felt her heart sink slightly, sure his answer was going to be a negative one. She found herself wondering why Olbeck hadn’t just emailed the picture up to MI5 headquarters when Ricky spoke up, almost as if he had read her mind.
“I do recognise him,” he said slowly. “I wanted to come down to see you and talk face to face, given the seriousness of the case. I find it’s so much better to discuss something in person, particularly when you’re dealing with something this sensitive.” Kate found herself nodding in agreement and Ricky gave her a quick look before continuing. “This man is one of our field operatives.”
“What’s his name?” asked Kate, unable to help herself.
“His undercover name was Ibrahim Bashir,” Ricky said. Kate sighed inwardly; that at least was something they did know. Ricky went on. “His real name was Samir Minhas.”
The two police officers waited for Ricky to go on, but he remained silent for so long that eventually Olbeck gently prompted him. “And?”
“I’m sorry.” Ricky hadn’t taken his eyes off the picture of Samir’s face. “It’s hard. He was a teammate…”
His eyes had become glassy. For some reason, Kate found herself thinking of Anderton. Was this the difference between generations, that young men were not afraid to show their emotions? She tried to think if she’d ever seen Anderton cry and concluded, somewhat aghast, that she hadn’t.
“I’m really sorry,” Olbeck said in that tone that proved what a gentle, kind-hearted person he was. “I’m really sorry for
your loss.”
Ricky rubbed his eyes. “Thank you.”
Kate leant forward. “What can you tell us, Ricky?”
Ricky straightened up. He gave Kate a look that she couldn’t quite decipher; it seemed slightly too…intense for someone she’d literally only just met. Was it anger? Antagonism? Or something else? Whatever it was, it made her even more uncomfortable around him than she was rapidly finding herself to be.
Eventually he spoke, with seeming reluctance. “We’re running a covert op down here. Obviously, I can’t share the details of that with you at this time. It may come to that but—not now.”
Kate gritted her teeth in impatience. “What can you tell us? Was Ib—Samir working on that?”
Ricky hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Yes. Yes, he was out in the field.”
“He was definitely working undercover?” Kate asked, wanting to be absolutely sure. Ricky nodded.
“What can you tell us?” Olbeck leant forward and put his elbows on the desk.
Ricky hesitated. “Not a great deal, to be honest. Samir had infiltrated a local group of Islamic extremists. He was trying to gain information about—well, we believe they were planning an attack.”
Kate was distracted again by his teeth and lovely mouth. Get a grip, woman. Be professional here. It was hard. She hadn’t felt attracted to anyone else like this for a long, long while. She made a concerted effort to thrust the thought away and turned her attention to what he was saying.
“A terrorist attack?” Olbeck asked.
“That was our preliminary thought. It was a tricky stage of the op, to be honest. Samir was calling in regularly and then he just…stopped.” Ricky was looking more and more uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I really can’t say much more at the moment. I’d need to get higher clearance.”
Attracted as she was, Kate was also conscious of her annoyance. What was the point of this bloody meeting, if that was all Ricky was going to be able to tell them? At least we’ve got a positive ID, she told herself, trying to be optimistic. She sat back in her chair, listening as Olbeck probed a little further, thinking about where they could go from here.