‘That’s really very kind of you, Mrs Verge. I must find a supermarket, I’m out of just about everything.’
‘Try the new superstore this side of Amersham. It’s on your way back. Their seafood is excellent.’ She gave directions as she ushered Kathy towards the front door. ‘And please do call in whenever you’re in the area.’ Then her voice dropped suddenly and she grabbed Kathy’s wrist tight. ‘You’re sure there are no new developments? Tell DCI Brock that I demand to be kept in the picture, all right?’
Kathy disengaged her wrist. ‘I’ll tell him.’
The old lady’s wrinkled face reverted to smiles as Charlotte came into earshot. ‘Bye bye. I do so hope you enjoy the romesco.’
12
There was a sting in Madelaine Verge’s bounty, Kathy discovered later, though she could hardly blame her for it. She had spotted the superstore on the road back to the A41, just as she’d been directed, and had driven in to the huge car park, relatively quiet at this time on a Friday afternoon. She filled a trolley with groceries, returned to the car and swore. A side window was smashed, chunks of glass scattered over the tarmac and the seat inside. Looking in she saw that her CD player had been roughly levered out of its housing in the dashboard leaving an ugly gaping hole with wires trailing. Her sunglasses were also gone, and, looking over the back seat, so was her briefcase. They’d left her coat and an umbrella.
‘Damn.’
She felt the crude intrusion like a jolt, and part of her brain observed herself in the role of victim, passing through the stages of disbelief and outrage. She looked around at the peaceful rows of late-model suburban cars, a roof rack on one, a dog in another, warming in the autumn sun, and saw no sign of violence. Then she noticed the car parked on the other side of hers, like hers an older model without an alarm, and saw that it too had been violated, its glass scattered like icy tears across the blacktop.
It’s nothing, she told herself. It happens all the time, to everyone, at random. Nobody hurt, no harm done, just a bloody pest. She loaded her groceries into the boot and walked back towards the building, looking between the cars as she walked. There was no sign of her briefcase. It was scuffed and worthless, and they would chuck it once they realised it held nothing of value, no electronic organiser, no mobile phone-but probably miles away.
And it was just then that her phone, fortunately stowed in her shoulder bag, began to chirp like a hungry chick in its nest. Of all the people she least wanted to hear from at that moment, Robert the committee administrative officer was certainly one.
‘I’m sorry, who?’ she queried, trying to think who the hell he was.
‘Serving the Crime Strategy Working Party,’ he reminded her.
‘Oh, oh, of course. Sorry.’
‘We’re wondering if you could attend a special meeting, Kathy.’
She groaned inwardly. ‘Oh, I suppose so, yes. When were you thinking…?’
‘Now, actually.’
‘I’m in darkest Bucks at the moment, Robert,’ she heard herself snap. ‘And my car’s just been broken into.’
‘Oh dear,’ he said blithely. ‘Is it driveable?’
‘I assume so.’ The ignition switch hadn’t looked as if it had been tampered with. Why would they want to steal a vehicle like that, after all? ‘It’s just the window that’s been smashed and some stuff taken.’
‘Suppose I get a secure parking spot for you in the basement here. Will that help?’
Kathy was impressed. Anyone who could command a parking place beneath headquarters building was to be respected.
‘Just give my name. In an hour?’
Kathy continued into the hypermarket and found the manager’s office, where she reported her break-in to a pink-faced youth. As he painstakingly recorded the details in a book, she speculated that it might be his mates who were doing the cars.
‘Have there been others?’ she asked.
‘Erm…I don’t think it’s company policy to give out that kind of information.’
‘I’m a police officer.’ She showed her ID.
‘Oh…Yeah, one or two.’
‘I couldn’t see any cameras out there.’
‘Only at the doors of the building,’ he said.
‘What’s your local cop shop?’
She took a note of the phone number and gave him her card. ‘I have to go back to London now. Tell them to ring me if they need to talk to me.’
Within the hour Kathy was shown up to a private office, the door of which bore Robert’s name. He was expansive and quietly authoritative, quite unlike the reticent figure she’d seen in the committee meetings. She took the seat he indicated and accepted a cup of coffee.
‘Neither of us has time to waste, Kathy,’ he said, ‘so I’ll come to the point. We’re becoming rather concerned about the lack of progress of the CSWP. I don’t need to tell you that it has been less than productive so far. Now it may be that our choice of some of the members was unwise, but we can’t do anything about that now.’
Kathy was surprised by his frankness and wondered uneasily where this was leading.
‘The crucial point seems to be the chairmanship. It’s become clear, I think, that Desmond’s position as chair has become untenable. Would you agree?’
‘I thought that wasn’t negotiable.’
‘There may be a way around it that would satisfy everyone, at least sufficiently to allow us to move forward. I’ve been canvassing opinion, and I’d like to run this past you.’
‘Fine.’
‘We’d like you to take on the chair.’
‘Me?’
‘It seems there is no other solution which the whole committee would support, and from our point of view it is crucial that the chair is a member of the service.’ He sat back and beamed at her. ‘So there we are.’
Kathy realised that her sense of confrontation was rather greater than it had been when faced with her robbed car. ‘That’s very gratifying…’
Robert nodded. ‘It won’t be easy, but you’ll have our full support.’
Kathy wondered about his continual references to ‘we’ and ‘our’. Did he mean himself or was there a whole hierarchy of senior management involved?
‘And I do appreciate the honour, but I’m heavily involved in a very important case right now…’
‘The Verge case, yes I know, but there are many others working on that. We’re sure you can be spared. Given the time that’s been lost already, the CSWP is going to rely on some intensive work by its chair, especially in the next few weeks leading up to the conference.’
The conference! A mild panic attack gripped Kathy at the thought of presenting the committee’s spurious findings to five hundred senior police and community figures.
‘The fact is, Robert, that I just don’t think I’m cut out for that kind of thing. I haven’t had any real experience. I don’t speak well in that sort of setting…’
Robert chuckled and shook his head. ‘We think otherwise.’
Who the hell is ‘we’? Kathy thought. Does it include Brock? She recalled his throwaway remark about this being her big chance.
‘We have every confidence that you can handle it splendidly. And it will be a tremendous opportunity for you to shine, Kathy. To be noticed.’
That’s exactly what I’m terrified of, she thought. ‘Have you spoken about this to DCI Brock?’
Robert consulted a list. ‘Brock… Brock… no. Should I?’
‘He’s SIO on the Verge case. I think he may feel he needs me there.’
‘Indispensable are we, Kathy?’ Robert smiled indulgently.
‘Well, no, but…’
‘DCI Brock will fall in with our requirements, I have no doubt. This is a crucial matter, Kathy. I don’t think I need to emphasise that, do I?’
‘No, of course not. Can I have the weekend to think about it?’
Robert looked disappointed, as if she’d failed a test. ‘What’s there to think about, Kathy? Will it help to clarify your thoughts if I tell you that the Deputy Assistant Commissioner has agreed to the change, and wants a quick resolution?’