A Thousand Cuts (30 page)

Ever, said the headlines. Since records began, ran the small print. It was like labouring up an incline, Lucia thought, and finally reaching the summit. Although it occurred to her too that it in fact felt no hotter than yesterday, than any other day since the heatwave had begun.

She entered the lobby and nodded a greeting to the staff at the desk. A facilities worker wheeled up a trolley beside her as she waited for the lift, and when the doors to the elevator shuddered open, she gestured him in ahead of her before squeezing in behind. Lucia pressed button three. The facilities worker pressed six. The doors closed and a motor whined and the winch strained audibly to hoist them upwards. Lucia focused on her distorted reflection in the chipped brass panelling of the doors, her thigh pressing against the metal handle of the trolley and the aroma of coffee from the urn on top making the air seem thicker and more humid than it already was.

The whole cast was assembled. Harry was there, Walter was there, his two goons huddled beside him. No court appearances today. No suspects to interrogate, no crime to solve. No reason to be anywhere but as close to centre stage as possible.

Lucia caught Harry’s eye and offered him a glimpse of a smile. She crossed the office and stopped at Cole’s door. It was closed so she knocked and she waited. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She breathed.

‘Come in,’ a voice called.

Lucia glanced at Harry again, then levered down the handle and stepped inside.

‘Lucia,’ said Cole. He was behind his desk, half standing, his weight on the heels of his hands. He was smiling. She had not expected him to be smiling.

‘Guv,’ Lucia said. She closed the door behind her.

‘Come. Sit. Coffee? You don’t want coffee. It’s too damn hot for coffee. Water?’

‘Thank you,’ Lucia said. ‘I’m fine.’ She crossed the office and lowered herself into the chair her boss had indicated. Across from her, Cole sat down too. He was still smiling.

‘This isn’t formal,’ he said. ‘This isn’t official.’

‘No. I realise that. But before you say anything—’

Cole held up a hand. ‘I need some help, Lucia. I need your help.’

‘Guv—’

‘Please, Lucia. Give me a moment.’

Lucia fell silent. Cole reclined in his chair. His hand drifted to his upper lip but stopped short when he noticed Lucia watching.

‘The toothpaste,’ he said. ‘It didn’t work. It burnt like hell, if you want the truth.’

Lucia shifted. The chair, plastic and unyielding, was scraping the backs of her knees. The rest of her felt sticky, starved of air. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘It was just something I read. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’

Cole waved a hand. He leant forwards, folding his arms and propping his elbows on the desk.

‘Mr Travis,’ he said. ‘The headmaster. He received a letter.’

Lucia had not intended to allow the conversation to get this far. Now that it had, she found herself curious about where it might go. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I know he did.’

‘And you know too, presumably, what that letter contained?’

Lucia held Cole’s gaze. She nodded.

The chief inspector studied Lucia. He drummed his fingers against the surface of the desk. Behind a bulging cheek, his tongue occupied itself with something that had caught in his teeth.

‘It’s a problem,’ he said. ‘You can see, can’t you, that it’s a problem?’

‘I would say that it was a problem for Mr Travis, Chief Inspector. Wouldn’t you?’

Cole bobbed his head. ‘Certainly,’ he said. ‘Certainly it’s a problem for Mr Travis. But I’m hoping that you and I might find a way to make that problem disappear.’

‘I see,’ Lucia said. ‘And that’s why I’m here. That’s why you think I’m here.’

Cole did not reply. Instead he hoisted his smile, as though mindful suddenly that he had allowed it to droop. He stood up and crossed to the water cooler. ‘You’re sure you’re okay?’ he said. When Lucia did not respond, he drew himself a cup, then returned to his position behind the desk. He did not sit down.

‘A court case,’ he said. ‘A civil prosecution. Perhaps you’d explain to me, Lucia, just what it is you are hoping to achieve.’

‘That’s not for me to say, Chief Inspector. It’s not my business, after all.’

Cole laughed. He laughed and for the first time betrayed his impatience. ‘I think we’re past pretending, Inspector. Don’t you?’

Lucia made to stand. ‘I’m not sure this conversation is going to accomplish anything, Guv. If you don’t mind—’

‘Sit down, Inspector,’ said Cole.

Lucia held still.

‘Please,’ Cole said. ‘Sit down, Lucia.’

Lucia sat. She folded her arms.

‘From what I understand, the Samsons have a grievance. They are lashing out, it seems to me, in the only way they can.’

‘No,’ said Lucia. ‘That’s not—’

Cole cut her off. ‘They are lashing out at the school and they are lashing out at its headmaster. Wait, Lucia. Just wait a minute.’ He smiled again. The smile did not reach his eyes. ‘It’s understandable,’ he said. ‘Of course it is. They lost their son. Elliot, isn’t it? That was his name, am I right? They lost their son and no one was punished. Why wouldn’t they be angry?’

‘They are angry,’ Lucia said, struggling now to keep her voice steady. ‘They’re furious. And they’re not alone.’

‘It’s understandable,’ Cole said again. ‘I sympathise. We all do. Even Mr Travis, as hard as you may find that to believe.’

Again Lucia tried to interrupt. Cole spoke over her. ‘But what if something could be arranged? I mean, that’s what this is really all about, isn’t it? Retribution. Revenge. Payback for what happened to Elliot.’

Cole finally granted Lucia the opportunity to speak. She found that her throat was clogged with words.

‘Arranged?’ she managed to say. ‘What do you mean, arranged?’

Cole gave a shrug. He prodded at the edges of a pile of papers on his desk. ‘Gideon, isn’t that his name? His friends. The ones who attacked Elliot. There’s nothing we could do, obviously. The investigation is closed. But Mr Travis . . . Well. It’s his school, after all.’

‘Forgive me, Chief Inspector, but I thought our position - I thought the headmaster’s position - was that no one had witnessed the attack. Isn’t that what the Samsons were told?’

‘We’re talking openly, Lucia. I thought we were talking openly.’

Lucia shook her head. She found herself smiling in spite of herself.

‘This case,’ said Cole, his tone more abrupt now. ‘No one wants it. I know you’ve got a problem with Travis and maybe you can live with ruining one man’s career but what about the school? What about the other teachers, the other pupils?’

‘You’re missing the point. You’re completely missing the point. It’s because of the teachers and it’s because of the other pupils that the Samsons are doing what they’re doing.’

‘And the force, Lucia? What about the force? Don’t think this won’t touch us. Don’t think we won’t be implicated too. Because your friends are going to be standing up in court and telling the world that the police failed them. That the police failed their son. Do you think that’s going to make our job any easier next time? Do you think that’s going to make this country safer? Because I don’t. I do not.’

Lucia stood. ‘I’ve heard enough,’ she said. ‘I really think I’ve heard enough.’ She turned away and took a step towards the door.

‘Okay, Lucia. Okay.’

Lucia glanced behind her. Cole was standing with his arms raised, less a gesture of surrender, more an indication that Lucia had forced on herself whatever was coming.

‘Forget the school,’ Cole said. ‘Forget Travis. Forget about your own fucking colleagues. What about you? What do you think is going happen to you if you decide to go ahead with this?’

‘I told you. It’s not my decision. The Samsons have made their own choice. All I’ve done is give them the information that no one else would. The information they deserve.’

‘Exactly, Inspector. Exactly. You’re already on suspension. What good do you think all of this is going to do for your career?’

‘My career,’ Lucia echoed. She turned back to face her boss. ‘I almost forgot.’ She took an envelope from her bag and held it out. ‘This is for you. This is the reason I came. It’s only a line or two but you’ll find it covers the important points.’

Cole frowned. He took the envelope from Lucia and checked each side, as though unsure of what it was he was holding. ‘You’re resigning?’

‘I’m resigning.’

‘You’re giving up. You’re quitting.’

‘Call it what you like. This job isn’t what I thought it was. It isn’t what it should be.’

‘That’s crap, Lucia. That’s idealistic crap. And this,’ he said, brandishing the envelope, ‘doesn’t get you off the hook.’ He tossed Lucia’s letter on to the desk. It skidded across the surface and off the other side. ‘What you did,’ he said. ‘What you’ve done. You could face charges. Criminal charges. You used privileged information from the Szajkowski investigation to incite Elliot Samson’s parents into launching a civil prosecution against the school. It’s abuse of office, Lucia. Mr Travis has every right to go straight to the IPCC.’

‘Mr Travis may go wherever he wishes,’ Lucia said. ‘If you like, I could even come up with a few suggestions myself.’

‘For Christ’s sake, Lucia! You’re not even going to win!’

Lucia shrugged. ‘Like I say, it’s not my business. I would assume, though, that winning hardly mattered. It’s not usually the court’s judgement that counts in a case like this.’

‘So what’s the point? What the hell is the point?’

‘Remember Samuel Szajkowski, Guv? He wasn’t tried but he was judged. Travis allowed him to be judged. And Leo Martin. Try mentioning Leo Martin’s name to Mr Travis. See what colour he turns.’

‘Leo Martin? Who the hell is Leo Martin?’

‘Just a boy. Just another boy who didn’t win. He won the argument though. The press made sure of that.’

Cole scoffed. ‘You’re talking in riddles, Lucia. You’re talking yourself into a shit heap of trouble, that’s what you’re doing.’

‘Tell me, Guv: why are we even having this conversation? If winning were all that mattered, why not just let the Samsons lose?’ Lucia took a step towards the desk. ‘You know as well as I do that even if their case comes to nothing, they will have achieved what they set out to achieve. Because, for Travis, there’ll be no hiding. There’ll be no vested interests to use as cover. You, your boss, whoever else is on the headmaster’s side: none of you will be able to help. You might even find yourself trapped in the same corner as the man you seem so eager to protect.’

Cole was shaking his head. ‘I told them you would be reasonable. I told them there wouldn’t be any need for threats. But it’ll happen, Lucia. If your friends go ahead with this, you’ll face the consequences. I won’t do anything to protect you.’

‘I wouldn’t ask you to. I wouldn’t dream of it.’

‘It’s worth it then. The cost, the personal cost, all for an inch or two buried at the bottom of page nine - it’s worth it to you?’

Lucia stooped and picked up the envelope from the floor. She placed it on Cole’s desk. ‘Samuel Szajkowski,’ she said. ‘He shot Donovan and then he fired at the stage. He was aiming at Travis, Guv. Not at the woman who betrayed him or the man who tormented him. He was aiming at Travis.’

‘I don’t care, Lucia. Travis doesn’t care.’

‘No. I’m sure he doesn’t. I’m sure, right now, he has other things on his mind. But he’ll have plenty of time to think about what it means once he’s settled into his retirement.’

 

Outside, they were waiting. They did not look like they were waiting but their lack of interest was unequivocal. Only Harry was openly watching for Lucia as she emerged. He raised his eyebrows. Lucia returned a grimace.

Heads lifted and tracked Lucia’s path across the office. She would have made her way straight to the stairwell had Harry not caught up with her first.

‘Lucia,’ he said. His hand on her shoulder guided her around. ‘I realise this may not be the best time . . . ’

Lucia looked beyond Harry’s shoulder. Cole’s door was still shut but Walter, seated at his desk, was regarding them with an expression somewhere between incredulity and delight. Rob and Charlie loitered, their leers cocked and at the ready. ‘It’s not a great time, Harry.’

‘No,’ he said. He glanced behind him. ‘No. But if you did in there what I imagine you went in to do . . . Well. I suppose we might not be seeing each other for a while.’

Lucia found herself smiling at Harry’s turn of phrase. ‘What’s up?’ she said.

‘Nothing. Nothing important. I just wanted to ask you something, that’s all.’ His voice was quieter now, though the others were still listening. They would still be able to hear. ‘I wanted to ask you whether you fancied going for a drink? Just to a pub or something. Not now obviously. At some point. Just whenever. Or not,’ Harry added. ‘You know, whatever. ’

‘Whatever?’ Lucia echoed.

Harry’s fingers rubbed at his forehead. ‘Not whatever. I didn’t mean whatever. All I meant was . . . Jesus Christ, Lucia. You’re not making this easy. All I meant was—’ he began again but Lucia placed her fingertips on his arm.

‘I know what you meant, Harry. I’d like that. I’d like to get a drink sometime. You know, whenever.’

Harry beamed. ‘Great,’ he said. ‘I’ll call you.’

‘Do,’ said Lucia. Smiling again, she made to turn away.

The sound of flesh slapping flesh stopped her. Walter was beating out a sluggish applause. He was grinning, Lucia saw, but not at her. Harry was his target now. Harry, who was moving eyes down towards his desk.

‘Bravo, Harry my lad. It looks like you’ve got yourself a date. And here we all were thinking you were a shitepoke.’ Rob and Charlie laughed. Walter looked across at them, affecting a puzzled expression. ‘Although thinking about it,’ he said, ‘does it really count if the bird you shag is a dyke?’