‘Like you said, we both have to eat. And there’s nothing else I can do tonight except go over my witness statements again till I’m cross-eyed. I’m just glad you were free.’
‘Even Mr Denby has to set the slaves free sometimes.’ The coffee arrived, hot and strong, and they appreciated it in a moment of quiet.
Paula couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such a relaxed evening. It was what she’d longed for, but she couldn’t quite let go of the old cop’s maxim: hope for the best, expect the worst. But this time, she seemed to have beaten the house. The conversation had flowed easily between them. They liked the same music, their reading overlapped enough for them to share opinions, they had similar taste in films. They both loved red wine and red meat. Elinor even confessed that she enjoyed the occasional cigarette. ‘One or two a week,’ she said. ‘Last thing at night, with a whisky.’
‘If I could smoke like that, I’d be happy,’ Paula admitted. ‘With me, it’s all or nothing. I want to quit again, but I know I have to work up to it.’
‘You stopped before?’
‘Yeah. I was doing really well until . . . Oh, it’s a long story.’ And I don’t want to tell it unless this starts to go somewhere. ‘The five-second version? A friend of mine - a colleague, actually, but he was my friend too - he got killed.’ And I nearly died too, but that’s where I don’t want to go tonight.
‘I’m sorry,’ Elinor said. ‘That must have been difficult. It’s strange how often the death of people we love brings out the self-destructive behaviour in all of us.’ And she’d left it at that, which Paula had been grateful for and impressed by.
Now, as they finished their coffee and split the bill, there was an unmistakable frisson between them. Paula wanted to touch Elinor’s skin, to feel the electricity flow from fingertip to fingertip. Not that she wanted to rush into anything. She had too many reservations. About herself, not about Elinor.
They stepped out of the restaurant into a vicious swirl of wind. ‘God, it’s Baltic,’ Elinor exclaimed. ‘When did that happen? It was really mild when we went in.’
‘Time flies when you’re having fun. It’s actually Wednesday now.’
Elinor laughed and tucked her arm through Paula’s. ‘You know what I’d really like?’
Paula’s chest constricted. She felt delight, desire and dread combine inside. ‘I’m far too well brought up to guess,’ she said.
Elinor squeezed her arm. ‘I like that you’re not presumptuous. And I’d like for us to get to know each other a great deal better.’
‘Yes,’ Paula said cautiously, wondering where this was going.
‘And I don’t want this evening to end just yet. I know it’s late, but do you want to come back to mine? For a coffee? More conversation?’
They paused for a moment under the canopy of a shop. ‘I’d like that,’ Paula said. ‘I’d really, really like that. But please don’t take this the wrong way. When you say coffee, it would have to be just that. I have to be in the office first thing, showered and alert and in fresh clothes.’
Elinor chuckled. ‘In that case, we’d better go to yours, don’t you think?’ Before Paula could reply, Elinor had pulled her into an embrace. It was an electric moment for Paula. Her body tingled and her ears rang. She heard a soft moan and realised it had come from deep inside her. She wanted the kiss to go on for ever.
When they finally parted, they were both breathing heavily. ‘Oh my,’ Elinor said.
‘Shall we go?’ Paula said, her voice a squawk. She cleared her throat, patting her pockets. ‘We can get a cab.’ She stopped short. ‘Hang on a minute.’ She opened her bag and raked through the contents. ‘I don’t believe it. I’ve left my bloody keys in the office. I was in such a rush not to be late for meeting you . . . I can picture it. They’re sitting on my desk, in front of my computer.’
Elinor shrugged. ‘No problem. It’s no distance to your office. We can walk over and pick them up then get a cab from there.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘No. And this way I get to see where you work.’
Ten minutes later, they were stepping out of the lift on the third floor of Bradfield Police HQ. The night duty officer hadn’t batted an eyelid when Paula signed Elinor in. It made her wonder just how many of her colleagues used the office for their out-of-hours trysts. ‘We’re down here,’ she said, leading the way but not letting go of Elinor’s hand.
There was a light on in one corner of the office, a desk lamp augmented by the eerie light of Stacey’s monitors. ‘Stacey? Are you still here?’ Paula called in surprise.
‘I’m working that Central Station CCTV footage,’ Stacey replied. ‘You shouldn’t kiss your girlfriend in the lift, it’s on the internal cameras.’
‘Oh shit,’ Paula said. ‘It’ll be all over the intranet tomorrow.’
‘No, it won’t,’ Stacey said absently. ‘I’ve already wiped it.’ She stood up, her head barely appearing over the screens. ‘I’m Stacey,’ she said. ‘It’s nice to see Paula getting a life. That’ll make three of us.’
Paula couldn’t remember the last time she’d heard Stacey make such a long speech that wasn’t about ICT. ‘This is Elinor,’ she said.
‘I remember you from the Robbie Bishop investigation,’ Stacey said. ‘You’re the one who spotted the poisons. Very impressive.’
Paula was gobsmacked by this exchange. Did Elinor have this effect on everyone?
‘Thanks,’ Elinor said. She was wandering round the room, checking out the whiteboards, getting the feel of the place. ‘This place has a good vibe. Very grounded.’
Paula laughed. ‘You wouldn’t say that if you were here at nine in the morning.’
Stacey had sat down again behind her screens. ‘Since you’re here, Paula, come and have a look at this. I’ve been working on it for a bit, I think I’ve got something.’
Paula looked at Elinor, checking whether this was OK. Elinor smiled and waved her away with her hand. ‘On you go,’ she said. ‘I’m fine.’
Stacey blanked four of her screens, leaving two live. ‘This one here is the enhanced footage. See, the time here: four thirty-three. Plenty of time for Seth to have got here from school.’ She clicked her mouse and one of the figures moving through the station entrance was highlighted. The others faded into grey background. Another click and everything about the image sharpened and clarified. ‘I think this is Seth.’
‘I think you’re right. Kathy showed me some video of him this afternoon. I’d say that’s definitely him. So where does he go?’
More mouse clicks. Stacey had stitched together shots from several cameras that showed Seth moving across the concourse. He passed the Costa Coffee outlet and then disappeared. ‘Where did he go?’ Paula asked.
‘There’s a blind spot between Costa Coffee and Simply Food. There’s a passage that leads to the car park. I think he met someone and they left together.’
Paula groaned. ‘That is the shittiest luck.’
‘You think?’
‘Well, what else?’
‘Somebody who knows exactly where the cameras are and what they cover.’
A long silence. Then Paula said, ‘That’s a very interesting idea.’
‘I know. The nice thing is that he’s not quite as clever as he thinks he is.’ Stacey tapped some keys and the other monitor sprang into life. A fragment of monochrome video played for a few seconds. Stacey paused it and clicked the mouse. A figure that might have been Seth leapt into relief. ‘I think that’s Seth again.’
‘Could be.’
‘It’s the right area and the right time. OK, it could be practically anybody. But for the sake of argument and right time and right place, let’s say it is Seth. Now look at this.’ Another tap on the mouse button. A second figure was highlighted. Only half of him was visible because he was cut off by the Simply Food storefront. And the shot was from behind him so nothing of his face could be seen. But he definitely had his hand on the might-have-been-Seth’s arm.