Head Shot

He shook his dark head. 'Of course you would. I'l tell you something else; you're no bloody dragon either. You're a good, a better than good copper.'

'You might not say that if you'd seen a thing that happened this morning.'

'What was that?'

'Something very simple, but I can't get it out of my head. A young probationer came into my office, and he was shaking. The boy was scared, Mario, of me, and that's not right.'

'Course it is,' he laughed, making light of it. 'The traditional function of the probationer is to crap themselves when going into the super's office.' She did not return his smile.

'Look, Mags,' he told her. 'You have to believe this. You are an exceptional, dedicated police officer; Bob Skinner picked you out as that, and shot you up the ladder because of it, and that's all the 30 commendation you need. If you joined the force to be cuddly and nice, you were fooling yourself, for we can't be like that, especially not in CID. You are what you should be, and you are where you should be.

Whether it's in spite of your background or because of it doesn't matter any more than a single bean in my rapidly cooling soup.'

He grinned at her as he picked up his spoon, and this time, she smiled back, weakly.

'This birthday card your sister received; did she say where it was posted?'

'London.'

'And it arrived out of the blue?'

'Yes.'

'Did he put an address on it?'

'No. What concerns me is how he found out where she is.'

'The Internet, maybe,' Mario suggested. 'She has a website, doesn't she, with her design business, and she has an unusual name. That would do it.'

'Maybe. Anyway, she's scared and she wrote to me to warn me.'

'And are you worried?'

She snorted. The? Just let him come near me.' She stopped. 'Now, please; I've told you; can we talk about something else, at least till we get home.'

Mario nodded. 'Sure What did that lad want this morning anyway?'

'Nothing. He brought me Manny English's night-shift reports, that was all.'

'What the hell for?'

'You know Manny. He was away, and he's so bloody rank-conscious that only the next senior officer would do to check them over.'

'A load of crap, were they?'

'Yup. There was a funny one where someone had died in a doctor's surgery, but that was all.'

'Death happens, wherever. There more than in most places, I guess.'

'Yes, but not… Ach, let's forget it. Enough shop. Have you had many "well done" calls since the press notice went out?'

Mario nodded. 'A few… and one that took my breath away. My Uncle Beppe phoned me. He and my mother want to have a family party to celebrate.'

'Jesus. Your godfather cal ed you? What did you say?'

'What could I say? I said okay. I had to; my mum and my nana might have been upset otherwise.'

'Am I invited?'

'Course you are.'

'Wil I have to learn Italian songs and dances and such?'

'Hardly,' he laughed. 'However he acts, my Uncle Beppe was born in Newhaven, not Napoli.'

8

This time, Sarah was awake when the phone rang. 'How're you doing?' he asked.

'Better,' she answered, not because she was, but because it was what he wanted to hear. In reality she felt cold and shivery, slightly out of touch with the planet. The initial shock had worn off, to be replaced by a stunned disbelief that what had happened actually involved her, and a feeling that instead she was a spectator looking in on someone else's nightmare.

'That's good,' said Bob, knowing that she was putting on a front, but going along with it. 'You were zonked when I called earlier. Lou said you'd taken a couple of pil s.'

'Yes, on top of a couple of brandies; not such a good idea.'

'It was if it did the job.' He hesitated, and background noise flooded into her ear. 'My love, I'm so sorry,' he blurted out. 'I wish I was there with you. Maybe that's where I should be. I'm at KL airport, but I haven't picked up my tickets for the States yet. If you want, I'll cancel them and come home instead. I sort of went off at half-cock earlier, when Andy cal ed and told me what had happened.'

'No,' she said, quickly, almost sharply. 'You go to New York. I might want you here, but I need you there. I'll come over as soon as I can, once I've had a chance to make arrangements for the kids. Meantime, please, you take care of everything that needs doing… and make damn sure that the police throw everything into the investigation.'

A quiet chuckle sounded down the line. 'Hey, this isn't just someone else's force, it's someone else's country. I'll need to tread softly there.'

'You don't know how to do that,' she exclaimed. 'I mean it, Bob; keep them on their toes.'

'I'll do what I can,' he promised. 'Do you know this man Dekker?'

'The county sheriff? No, I don't; I've heard my dad mention his name, though. He's been around for a while; he's an elected official and he's part of the civic furniture in Buffalo.'

'Is he a talker or a doer?'

'You'l have to make up your own mind on that one.'

'I wil, don't worry. I'l see him soon enough.'

'What time is it with you?'

'Around three a.m. It'l be the middle of yesterday afternoon in New York right now, so I should get there early this morning… I reckon.'

'What time does your body think it is?'

She heard him chuckle again. 'My body doesn't have a bloody clue, love. I just have this strange feeling that when I get to the States I'll be a day younger.'

'Lucky you!' she muttered, instinctively, unable to keep the bitterness at bay. 'I feel about ten years older.'

'Hey, I'm sorry. Look, it's still not too late. Shouldn't I come home first?'

'How many times do I have to say it?' Her voice rose; he had never heard her sound so strained, not even at the worst of times in their marriage. He knew how tough she was, but he understood that this had to be the worst day of her life.

'Okay, okay. I'l go straight there. I'l cal you again from Buffalo.'

'Is that where you're going first?'

'No. I've asked to be taken straight to the crime scene. They'l fly me from place to place. My US geography's crap, but as I understand it the Adirondacks are a couple of hundred miles east of the city.'

'Then call me from the cabin.' She sounded calmer, and he sensed her need to be involved.

'If that's what you want.'

'It is. Where are you planning to stay in Buffalo?'

He paused. 'I haven't given that any thought. I suppose I'l check into a hotel.'

'No. I want you to stay in my folks' house. Get it ready for me. I'l be over as soon as I can. I'l arrange for Trish to live in, and ask Lou, or Karen Martin, to look in every so often, just to see that the kids aren't giving her too much trouble. I can't just sit on my ass here; it'd drive me crazy.'

'Are you alone now?'

'No. Lou's here; the men have gone, but she's going to stay over tonight. With her having lost her dad last month, we're sort of good for each other.'

'Sure. Just watch the brandy, the pair of you. Alcohol's a depressant.'

'But like you said, it also helps you sleep. Don't you worry about your Remy Martin, though; we're not going to touch that.'

'That's good.'

'No. We plan an evening on the Martinis, American style.'

'What, as in wave the vermouth lightly over the gin?'

'No, that's too much. I'm going to make them my dad's way. He believed that the gin and the vermouth could be allowed in the same room, but only for a few moments, that's all.'

9

They lay in the dark, silent but awake. They had finished their celebration meal in a sombre mood, had come home and gone straight to bed. They had made love, intensely, passionately, as if each had something to prove to the other, only neither was sure what it was.