Detective Superintendent Leggate spoke into Hunter’s ear. “I’ll get their drinks. I’ll bring them over.”
Hunter acknowledged her with a nod and then edged his way to his crew.
He slid the drinks onto the table, pushed a pint towards Barry and handed Grace a white wine. “The gaffer’s treating you two,” he said to Mike and Tony. Mike seemed be having difficulty getting himself settled in his seat. He turned to him, “I’ve told her to get you an orange, you’re on antibiotics.”
Mike wagged a finger at him and they all chuckled.
Hunter raised his glass, said “Cheers,” and took in a good mouthful of Timothy Taylor beer.
“Cheers,” came the reply.
Wiping his mouth with the edge of his hand Hunter focused on Mike again. “I came to see you the other night.”
“Oh, yeah? I can’t remember. Was I sedated?”
“No, you were otherwise engaged.” From the look on Mike’s face, Hunter knew he’d made the connection. He took another sip of his beer.
A moment of silence ensued, until Grace piped up “What’s this then?”
Hunter nodded at Mike, “Are you going to tell them, or do I let the cat out of the bag?”
Sheepishly he replied, “You mean me and Janet Dobson.”
Grace’s jaw dropped. “You mean Janet Dobson, as in Chief Inspector Janet Dobson?”
He affirmed with a quick dip of his head, his face coloured.
“Well you’ve kept that a bloody secret. When was this?” Grace asked.
“Just over a year.”
“And you’ve kept it to yourself all this time?”
“We wanted to keep it to ourselves for a while longer.” He added, “I’ve no bloody chance of that now, have I?”
Everyone laughed.
“How did this come about then?” asked Barry.
“I knew her husband. I used to go match-fishing with him. He collapsed and died of a heart attack three years ago while we were out fishing. Nothing I could do to help him. I helped her get through things, and then I used to go round and keep her company and we just hit it off.”
With a sardonic grin Barry added, “You ought to be ashamed of yourself, taking advantage of a vulnerable widow.”
Grace gave Barry a friendly punch to the arm. “You leave him alone. I think it’s wonderful.” She raised her glass. “I hope you’ll be very happy.”
Hunter flopped back against his high-backed seat. The warm atmosphere, the relaxing effects of the beer and lack of sleep over the past few weeks had all taken their toll.
As his team’s banter drifted into the background, he was thinking about home.
He finished his beer and checked the time, reaching into his pocket for his car keys. He’d spend a couple of hours with Beth and the boys, have a warm bath and then he’d collapse in his bed.
It was always the same at the end of an investigation.
EPILOGUE
24th December.
Stepping through the last security door into the visiting room of Wakefield Prison, Daniel Weaver unclenched his fists and stuck his hands into his jeans pockets. He paused for a second to check out the room, thinking that he’d never viewed it before from this angle.
The view was much better from this side, he decided.
Then he caught sight of the prisoner he had come to visit. He picked up his step again, passed a couple of tables where felons were engaged in conversations with their loved ones and then plonked himself down on a seat opposite the man.
He never took his eyes from him.
“It’s you,” Peter Blake-Hall said. “I wondered who the fucking smart-arse was who’d given my father’s name on the visiting sheet.”
“Nice little touch, don’t you think?” Daniel studied Peter’s face for a second and then said, “It’s about him I’m here.”
“What the fuck do you mean? What the bloody hell have you got to do with my father?”
“He died here you know, Peter.”
“Yes, I fucking do know he died here. Some cunt slit his throat.”
“But they never found out who’d done that, did they Peter?”
Daniel watched Peter’s expression change,
Daniel pushed himself up. “Well I won’t say it’s been nice visiting you. And before I go, I want to leave you with something. During my time here, all twenty-five years of it, I made a lot of friends, good friends, and each of them know how you stitched me up.” He let his last sentence trail off, and then added, “Oh, and before I go I just want you to know I only have to give the word and I’ll have the best Christmas present ever.”
The flash of panic in Peter Blake-Hall’s eyes brought a smile of satisfaction to Daniel’s face as he straightened his back and turned towards the exit.