Creed (A Kate Redman Mystery Page 12

  Kate was already heading for the door, shaking her head, still feeling furious. She heard Olbeck shout after her, “Stop shutting people out!” But by that time, she’d closed the door behind her, cutting him off. As she went back to her desk, she saw him answer the phone but shake his head at her, twirling his finger by the side of his head.

  Kate stomped back to her desk and sat down in her chair rather harder than was necessary.

  “You okay?” Fliss asked a little timidly.

  Kate took a deep breath and blew out her cheeks. “Fine, I’m fine, thanks.”

  “Okay.” Fliss turned her attention back to her screen.

  Kate took another deep breath and got her temper under control. “By the way, Fliss, Tech will be sending up whatever info they’ve managed to retrieve from the phone found at Veronica Stemmicks’s house. Can you cross-check any numbers that they send up, see if they’re registered to anyone? Email too, if they manage to retrieve anything like that. Just have a look at anything you can, really.”

  “Of course I will.”

  Kate smiled and thanked her. She looked over the room to where Rav and Theo were waving at her. “What’s up?” she said, making her way over.

  Theo was wearing one of his sharp new suits, proceeds of a recent pay rise. Kate had done the sensible thing with hers and put the extra money in her savings account. “We’re off out for lunch, down to The Arms. Want to come?”

  Kate felt a surge of pleasurable anticipation. The Arms did a really good scampi and chips, and after an early breakfast, she felt hungry already. “That sounds good. Count me in.”

  “I’ll go and ask Fliss,” Theo said, getting up. Kate watched him walk over, saw him bend over Fliss’s desk and saw Fliss’s face as she looked up at him. Kate realised something with a shock. Fliss fancied Theo. How had Kate not seen that before? It was obvious – and understandable, now that Kate thought about it. Theo was handsome and charming – it would have been slightly odd if Fliss hadn’t found him attractive. Kate glanced at Rav, wondering if he’d noticed too, but realised his attention was back on his computer screen.

  The morning’s work moved on. Sam brought up the report on the contacts retrieved from Veronica Stemmick’s phone to Kate, who took the opportunity to have a chat with her friend and then handed the folder over to Fliss.

  “I’ll work on this through lunch,” said Fliss, taking it from Kate.

  “Oh no, come and have a break,” Kate said. “There’s no great rush.”

  “It’s fine,” Fliss said, a little distantly.

  “Well, if you change your mind...” Kate trailed off, feeling something much like – well, was dislike too strong a word? – being beamed towards her by her colleague. Why? Was it because Kate had given her this task? Kate wondered for a moment and then dismissed the thought. She was probably being paranoid. Everyone had a bad day, now and again; it didn’t always mean it was something she, Kate, had done.

  At lunchtime, Theo, Kate, Rav and Jane strolled towards The Arms, enjoying the sunshine. Jane mentioned that she was thinking of putting in for a transfer of departments, to everyone’s predictable shock and dismay.

  “You can’t!” exclaimed Rav, looking really upset. “We need you.”

  Jane was shaking her head. “I can’t keep on with the hours, Rav. Now that the boys are both in school, it’s getting more and more difficult, not to mention expensive. The childcare costs are killing me. I need something more flexible.”

  The discussion went on through the sitting down at the reserved table, the food ordering and the getting of drinks. Kate knew her colleague was right – CID hours were punishing enough when you were single, let alone if you had a family – but she was disappointed. She didn’t know Jane very well but she liked and admired the way she’d managed to keep working and raise her two children, essentially on her own. Also, and she knew this from past experience, every time someone left, the resulting workload increased exponentially.

  At some point during the lunch hour, Kate found herself alone with Theo, Jane having gone to the ladies’ and Rav getting more drinks at the bar. She leant forward a little. “Does Fliss seem okay to you?”

  Theo looked puzzled. “What d’you mean?”

  “Oh, it’s just she seems a little off. A bit tense. Maybe I’m imagining it.” Kate folded her crumpled paper napkin into a neat square and placed it on her empty plate. “I mean, I know she’s had a hard year and all—” Mentally she added and so have I but you don’t see me acting sniffy with my workmates. Then she was assailed by paranoia, remembering what Olbeck had said to her that morning. Was she, in fact, acting more peculiarly than she realised? Had the others been talking about her too?

  Oblivious to the questions ricocheting around Kate’s head, Theo looked a bit uncomfortable. “Fliss is maybe a bit off with you. I don’t know—”

  “Why with me?” demanded Kate. “What have I done?” Guiltily, she recalled the time Fliss had tried to open up to her about her mother and Kate had cut her off at the knees.

  Theo shrugged and tipped the last few drops of his pint into his mouth. “She’s got this idea – she somehow thinks that you and me had a thing. I don’t know – it seems to have pissed her off.” He put the glass back on the table and the flicker of a smirk crossed his face. Kate realised he knew full well how Fliss felt about him.

  “’You and me had a thing,’” she repeated, outraged.

  “Hey, I didn’t tell her that. I don’t know where she got it from.”

  “You must have told her! Where else would she get that from? It’s not even true!”

  “Keep your hair on,” said Theo, grinning. “It doesn’t matter, does it? I don’t even know why she’s so bothered.”

  Kate subsided for a moment. It was on the tip of her tongue to say you know she fancies you, that’s why she’s annoyed, but after moment’s consideration, she decided against it. Why stoke Theo’s already considerable ego?

  Jane and Rav made it back to the table and the conversation moved on. As they walked back to the office, Kate found herself wondering about Fliss and Theo and, by association, her thoughts moved inexorably towards Anderton. She shook her head impatiently, trying to dislodge them.

  When she got back to her desk, Fliss was still hard at work on the report.

  “Get anything?” asked Kate, trying to make it sound casual and not as if she was nagging.

  Fliss looked up briefly and there was a flicker of a smile. “Not yet,” was all she said.

  “Okay. Thanks.” Kate sat down and pulled her own paperwork towards her. “I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

  Late that evening, Kate sat back on her sofa and stretched out her legs. Merlin was curled comfortably on her lap, candles flickered and soft classical music played in the background. All should have been peace and relaxation, if it weren’t for the report in Kate’s hand. She read through what Rav had researched about suicide clusters; the Werther effect, the multiple suicides that occurred in the town of Bridgend in Wales, point clusters, mass clusters and echo clusters. One line in particular stood out. Rav had written, ‘point clusters often occur in institutional settings such as factories, hospitals and schools.’ Kate read that line once more. Well, that fitted with what was happening here, didn’t it? She read on. Individuals who may be influenced are already in a vulnerable state... Kate put the report down on top of Merlin, who batted it away with one furry paw. “Sorry,” Kate said absently. She stared at the dancing light of the candle on the coffee table. It all fitted, it fitted neatly, but...but...

  “I don’t know what I’m worrying about,” she remarked to Merlin, who flicked a disdainful ear. Sighing, Kate put the report to one side, gently decanted Merlin onto the sofa, and went up to bed.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for weeks.”

  “No you haven’t,” Kate said. “You’ve been trying for a week, maybe...”

  “Don’t
pick holes.” Jay didn’t often sound annoyed but she could hear that he definitely sounded annoyed right now. She felt a stab of guilt. “I needed to talk to you.”

  “Mark said.”

  “Good. Anyway, now I’ve got you, can we talk?”

  “Go ahead,” Kate said, sighing.

  “We need to sort Mum’s house. There’s all her stuff there still, and it needs painting and decorating before we put it up for sale.”

  “We’re putting it up for sale?”

  “Yes, sis, we’ve talked about this, remember? There’s no point keeping it, it won’t rent out and we need the money.”

  Kate was pacing up and down the corridor at work, always the location for awkward phone calls. Briefly, she recalled Fliss turning away, talking to someone on her phone as Kate passed her, and frowned. What was it about that memory that still gave her a faint feeling of unease?

  Jay was still talking. “Can you meet me there, this weekend, and we can make a start? It’s going to take ages, but we could at least make a start—”

  Kate was frantically trying to recall if she had any plans for the weekend. Had she arranged anything with Tin? “I’m not sure—” she began, but Jay was already talking over her.

  “Sis, be sure. Come on, we need to make a start. This bloody wedding’s costing me a fortune.”

  “No one said you had to get married,” Kate snapped, before she could help herself.

  Jay stopped talking for a moment. “Don’t be like that.”

  “Sorry,” said Kate, in control again. “I’m thrilled for you both, you know that. Sorry, things are a bit hectic at work—”

  “When aren’t they? So, are you saying you can’t come this weekend?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll have to check. Look, you come down, make a start, and I’ll come over if I’m free, how’s that?”

  They thrashed out times and other arrangements and Jay rang off, muttering darkly about wedding readings and help with the invitations. Kate pressed the ‘end call’ button on her mobile and sighed. The very last thing she felt like doing, this weekend or anytime, was wading through decades of detritus and dirt at her mother’s house. At the same time, her conscience wouldn’t allow her to dump it all on Jay’s shoulders. Be a big girl, Kate... She slumped back down into her chair and threw her phone onto the desk top.

  She saw Fliss look up at the noise and remembered what she had to ask her. “Anything come up with those phone contacts?”

  Fliss cleared her throat. “No. Nothing came up.”

  “Really?” Kate was disappointed but not especially surprised. “What about text messages, emails, stuff like that?”

  “I’ve not got to the end of the text messages yet but there’s nothing particularly of interest. There’s no email set up on the phone, it doesn’t have that capability.”

  “Oh well,” Kate said. “Keep me posted, yes?”

  “Of course,” Fliss said. There was still that cool note in her voice. Kate caught her eye and held it for a moment, wondering whether to confront her colleague, but after a moment Fliss, her cheeks coloured pink, dropped her gaze and bent her head to her work again.

  Mentally shrugging, Kate looked up to see Anderton beckoning to her from the office doorway. Her stomach jumped. She got up before she could hesitate and made her way over to him.

  “Five minutes?” was all he asked when she got there, gesturing to his office. Kate followed him in silently, and he shut the door behind them.

  “Listen, I’m sorry,” was the first thing he said. Kate nearly gaped at him in surprise.

  “That’s okay,” she managed after a moment.

  “I... I shouldn’t have said what I said,” Anderton said, leaning forward over the desk. “You were right. Right to leave, I mean.”

  Kate floundered for an appropriate remark and realised that she had nothing to say. She gave a sort of half-shrug in acknowledgement.

  “I’m glad to have you on my team,” Anderton said, smiling. “I’d hate to do anything to jeopardise that.” Kate found herself smiling back. His gaze dropped to the table. “It’s just... I do find you very attractive, Kate. Maybe that’s wrong of me.”

  Their eyes met again and oh God, there it was again, thought Kate, that rush of attraction. Her thoughts were driven back inescapably to that kiss and how good it had felt... “That’s fine,” she said, jumping up smartly.

  “So, we’re good?” Anderton asked, seemingly anxious.

  What did he mean? Good as in...something’s happening and...what? Kate found herself smiling and nodding. “Yes, we’re good.”

  There was a moment’s awkward silence and then Kate said, “I really do have to go.”

  “Fine! Fine.” Anderton waved her away. “Off you go.”

  Kate walked back to her desk, pleasurably alight with curiosity and anticipation. I do find you very attractive, Kate... She sat back down at her desk, smiling to herself and then telling herself off for doing so.

  Kate had arranged to meet up with Tin that evening, to have dinner somewhere and perhaps go to the cinema, but as the evening approached she could feel her enthusiasm for both waning. She picked up her mobile to send him a text, changed her mind, and called him instead.

  “Do you mind very much if we just eat at mine tonight?” was what she asked when she got hold of him.

  “No.” Tin sounded surprised but not annoyed. “What’s up?”

  “Nothing. I’m just not feeling very sociable, that’s all.”

  “Do you want me to come round at all?”

  “Yes,” protested Kate. “Listen, I’ll cook something.” She recalled the empty shelves of her kitchen cupboards and amended hastily. “I mean, we’ll get a takeaway or something. My shout.”

  “Fine. I’ll bring the wine.”

  It was another lovely day that gradually morphed into a lovely evening. Kate drove home with her window down, enjoying the air that flowed into the car, carrying with it the scents of spring. As she walked up the little path to her front door, she could see that the bedding plants she’d put into the flower beds a month ago were growing with gusto; the delicate heads of the violas trembling in the slight breeze, the pale cream and yellow of the primroses glowing through the gathering dusk. Kate went through to the kitchen and flung the back door wide open to make the most of the golden, dying sunlight.

  Tin rang the doorbell at nine o’clock promptly. He’d brought two bottles of a decent white wine and a plastic tub of olives from the delicatessen two streets away – Kate’s particular weakness. She pounced on them with a cry of delight.

  They ate Thai takeaway in mostly companionable silence, sitting out on the patio area beyond the kitchen. By half past nine, it was dark and getting too chilly to sit outside.

  “Want to watch a film or something?” asked Kate, carrying plates and glasses back into the house. She nearly tripped over Merlin, who twined hopefully around her ankles.

  “Not really. I’d like to sit down and talk. It feels like we haven’t had a chance to do that for ages.”

  Kate battled with a jab of guilt. By association, she immediately recalled that kiss with Anderton. Was she going to say something? No, she decided, she wasn’t. What was there to say, anyway? Anderton had kissed her, not the other way around.

  They made their way to the living room, and Kate wondered whether it was worth lighting a fire. She compromised with a lot of candles and when they were all eventually lit, she and Tin collapsed onto opposite ends of the sofa with mutual sighs of satisfaction mingled with exhaustion.

  “What a week,” Tin said, putting his head back against the sofa and momentarily shutting his eyes.

  “I know.”

  Tin opened his eyes. “What’s going on with your suicides?”

  Kate stared at the flickering candles, remembering how she’d sat there two days ago, reading Rav’s report. “Not a lot.” She reached for her glass of wine, took a sip, and then asked, “Actually, you might be able to help me. What do you know abou
t suicide clusters?”

  Tin grinned. “Ah, my area of speciality.”

  “Really?” Kate sat up in excitement.

  Tin laughed out loud. “No, of course not. I just about know what they are, that’s all. Why? Is this what you think is happening here?”

  “Probably,” Kate said slowly. “But I can’t help feeling there might be something else underlying it. There’s nothing I can put my finger on but...”

  She stopped speaking. Tin was looking at her with an interested expression on his face but Kate found that she didn’t really want to elaborate any further. There was nothing to elaborate, anyway, was there?

  Tin’s phone, lying on the coffee table next to his wine glass, began to vibrate. Kate looked down at it automatically and saw an unfamiliar female name flashing from the screen. Celeste.

  “Aren’t you going to answer it?” she asked, suddenly noticing the tension in Tin’s face. Immediately she jumped to the obvious conclusion.

  “Another girlfriend of yours?” she asked, in a tone that was trying to be jokey but came out rather too angry instead.

  “No,” said Tin. He seemed to search for words for a moment and then said “It’s my daughter.”

  “Your daughter?” Kate was flabbergasted. She fought for the right words. “Since when did you have a daughter?”

  Tin looked at her with a half-smile. “Since eight years ago. Her mother and I split up five years ago.”

  “Oh,” Kate said lamely. Why hadn’t he mentioned this before? “Why didn’t you mention this before?” Again, she could hear the vibration of anger in her voice.

  “I’m sorry. There just never seemed to be a good time to tell you – I wasn’t trying to keep a secret or anything.”

  “Oh,” Kate said again. They both looked at the phone, which had stopped vibrating. “Shouldn’t you ring her back?”

  “Yes, I should.” Tin frowned. “Hang on, it’s past ten o’clock. What’s Celeste doing up at this time?”

  “It’s a Friday—” Kate began, but by that time Tin had scooped up the phone and was making his way to the hallway and the front door, clearly intent on making sure his conversation with his daughter was private.