Snarl (3 page)

Kate considered. She was hungry and she knew Andrew would pay – he insisted on it. But he also had a penchant for fine dining and very formal restaurants, with white linen tablecloths and attentive waiter service, and Kate just didn’t have the energy for it today.

“Why don’t you come over to mine?” she suggested. “We’ll get a takeaway and chill out on the sofa.”

“Really?” He sounded eager and, for a moment, she felt a flash of irritation. This time, it was easy to interpret. Just as quickly, she felt guilty. What was wrong with her?

“Definitely,” she said, making her tone extra warm. “I’d like to see you.”

Kate switched her computer off, stood up and pulled her coat on. She had the sudden absurd impulse to walk around everyone’s desks, saying goodbye to each person individually. Of course, she wouldn’t do that but… it was still too strange, too new for her to be able to just walk out, throwing a casual ‘goodnight’ over her shoulder. She wondered how she was going to get home. Olbeck was out, Theo had already left and she hadn’t driven herself. Bus it was, then, or should she treat herself to a taxi, just this once?

Outside the station, as she stood vacillating from one choice to the other, a horn pipped and a second later, Andrew drew up in his BMW. She felt a welcome burst of pleasure at seeing him and climbed into the cool interior of the car, smiling broadly. Her greeting kiss was heartfelt.

“Well, you look better than I thought you would,” said Andrew, brushing her hair back from her cheek. “Not quite as knackered as I was expecting.”

“It’s all a front,” said Kate, strapping herself in. She let her head fall back against the headrest and sighed, closing her eyes. “Now I can relax.”

“You certainly can. Sure you want to go home?”

Kate nodded fervently.

“Right you are, my sweetheart.”

The traffic was heavy and it took them longer than normal to get back to Kate’s house. When he was able to, Andrew rested a hand on Kate’s thigh and she tried not to show the irritation that caused her. Then she felt guilty for feeling that. Why shouldn’t he rest his hand on his girlfriend’s leg? I’m just tired, she told herself. I don’t want to be pawed about. Then she felt guilty again, even for thinking the words. She put her own hand on his leg and gave an answering squeeze and he turned his head and smiled at her.

It was Kate who unlocked the door of her house – she hadn’t yet given Andrew a key. He’d offered to get her one for his place but she’d declined, knowing that she would then have to make a reciprocal offer. She wasn’t ready for that, yet. Stepping inside the hallway, she was enveloped by the sense of pleasure that her house always induced in her; the calm, tidy, ordered interior that greeted her every day, the furniture and pictures and ornaments that she’d chosen with care and attention.

“Shall I cook?” asked Andrew, throwing his jacket over the newel post of the staircase.

Kate set her teeth for a moment and hung it on the hooks by the front door. She shook her head. “Don’t bother. Let’s get a takeaway.”

Kate placed her shoes neatly in the shoe rack and put her hands to the small of her back, stretching. Her scar throbbed.

“No, don’t worry about that,” said Andrew. “I’ll cook. I’d like to.”

“Suit yourself,” said Kate. She pulled herself up, realising how ungrateful she sounded. “That would be lovely. Thank you.”

Andrew tipped her a salute and headed to the kitchen.

Kate made her way upstairs.

“I’m going to jump in the shower,” she called. She prayed Andrew wouldn’t want to join her. At that very moment, she wanted to be by herself again; just her, in her cosy house with the door locked and her phone switched off, licking her wounds and trying to see a positive way forward. Andrew, nice as he was, was a distraction. Kate rubbed her face, pulling her fingers over her closed eyes. She couldn’t remember being this tired in a long time. Perhaps I’m not up to it anymore, she thought, and felt a cold thrill of fear. If she didn’t have her work, what did she have?

Andrew called up to her to tell her he was making her a cup of tea and
, this time, she felt grateful he was here.

Kate closed the bathroom door behind her, hesitated, and then locked it. So what if Andrew tried to come in? He’d have to learn that she needed her privacy
, sometimes. There was nothing wrong with wanting to take a shower on your own, for God’s sake. Kate came to with a start, realising she was arguing with a fantasy version of Andrew inside her head again. The real Andrew was downstairs in the kitchen, singing untunefully along to the radio. Kate rubbed her face. She was starting to think she should have turned his offer of company down tonight, made up a little white lie. But no – she did want the company, didn’t she?

The shower was throwing clouds of white steam into the air. Kate dropped her clothes neatly into the hamper and climbed under the spray of hot water. Immediately she began to feel better. The sense of defeatedness, of hopelessness
, that had surrounded her ever since she’d sat down at her new desk at the station, began to disperse. She poured a generous dollop of expensive shower gel into the palm of her hand, sniffing the perfume appreciatively. It would work out. She would be fine. She would slot back into her work as if she’d never been away. Her fingers went automatically to the ridge of the scar, sliding over it. The shower gel fell to the floor of the bath with a splat and Kate tutted with annoyance and yanked her hand away from her back. Just
leave
it, Kate. Think about something else, for a change.

Showered and dried
, dressed in her slobbing-at-home clothes. Kate paused at the entrance to the kitchen. Andrew was clattering pots around, chopping herbs, whistling as he worked. Kate watched him for a moment, unobserved. He’s good looking, he’s smart, he works hard and he cooks, she thought to herself. You’re lucky to have him. She smiled, but at the same time was suddenly aware of how tired she was. She leant her head against the door frame, closing her eyes.

“Whoah,” Andrew’s voice said and Kate felt his big arms close around her shoulders. She leant forward, resting her head against him without opening her eyes. “You’re just about dead on your feet, aren’t you?”

Kate nodded, too tired to even speak.

“Well,” said Andrew. “My considered medical opinion is you should go straight to bed. Come on—
” He lifted her bodily and she gave a tired giggle. His physical bulk was one of the most attractive things about him; when she was in his arms, she felt safe, enfolded, protected. Andrew carried her up to the bedroom and deposited her on the bed. Kate rolled gratefully under the covers.

“Shame,” said Andrew softly, stroking her hair back from her forehead. “I was hoping for a little bit more than that. But hey, there’s always first thing tomorrow, right?”

Kate grinned tiredly at him. Then she muttered something like ‘thanks’, pulled the duvet cover up to her nose and was instantly asleep.

Chapter Three

Kate was woken the next morning by the shrill electronic peal of her phone, buzzing and skittering over the bedside table like a large black insect. She grabbed for it blearily, whilst behind her Andrew groaned and rolled over. It was Theo.

“Pick you up in an hour, right?”

“What?”

Theo sounded incredibly alert and wide-awake. Kate rubbed her eyes, looked at the clock. Seven ten am.

“What bloody time do you call this?”

“The early bird catches the worm, Kate. Rise and shine! I’ll pick you up in an hour. See you then.”

The bleep of a disconnected signal sounded in Kate’s ear. She sat up, rubbing her eyes again.

“I’ve got to go,” she said to Andrew, who was half buried beneath a pillow. He was working normal hours this week
, which meant a nice, nine-thirty start. He grunted something.

Kate got ready, guilt
ily relieved that she had seemed to have got out of having sex with her boyfriend. That was the last thing she felt like, first thing in the morning, especially after an exhausting day before. She planted a kiss on Andrew’s cheek, bristly with morning stubble, grabbed her bag and made her way downstairs.

Theo was dressed in another nice suit. It looked expensive and he looked altogether older, and to be taken seriously. Kate caught sight of herself in the passenger seat mirror. She really must get her hair cut. How old was the jacket she was wearing? Five years? She shifted a little in her seat and her scar began to throb. Surrepti
tiously, she tried to rub it.

“You all right?” asked Theo. “You look knackered.”

Kate grimaced. “Gee, thanks. It’s my second day back on the job, I’m amazed I’m even awake and coherent.” She ran her hands through her hair, shook her head, made an effort. “Where are we going?”

“Back to the lab. Mark wants us to interview the co-workers
, this time.”

“Oh yes,” said Kate, a little dazedly. “I remember.”

“You and Mark spoke to the directors yesterday, right?”

“That’s right. Jack Dorsey and Alexander Hargreaves.”

“What are they like?”

Kate rubbed her face.
“We’ll speak to them again and you can see for yourself.”

Again, they were shown into the plush waiting room. Theo whistled under his breath
and paced around a little. Kate subsided into an armchair and fought the urge to put her head against the back of it and go to sleep.

Theo picked up the copy of the Racing Times and flicked through it.

“Didn’t know you were a betting man,” murmured Kate, as much for something to say as anything.

“Well, I’m not
, really,” said Theo. “Flutter on the National, that’s about it. Few quid on the gee-gees, now and then. Nothing amazing.”

Alexander Hargreaves opened the door to the waiting room himself. Kate saw his gaze go to the magazine in Theo’s hand and the minutest flicker of some kind of emotion crossed his face, gone almost before she could register it. Then he was striding
forward, his hand outstretched. “Sorry to keep you waiting, DS Redman. How can we help you today?”

Kate introduced Theo and asked whether they could have a chat with Michael Frank’s colleagues.
“Are you able to take us there, Mr Hargreaves?”

Jack Dorsey entered the room. Again, Kate was struck by the energy he brought with him, a sort of compressed vividness that he carried about.

After the pleasantries, Kate repeated her question.

“I’m free for the next half an hour,” said Jack Dorsey. “I’m happy to take you down there.”

“Great,” said Theo, cutting across Kate who was just opening her mouth to reply. She smiled to hide her annoyance. “Thanks for meeting with us, Mr Hargreaves.”

Alexander Hargreaves shook both their hands. His palm was smooth and warm against Kate’s, the press of a large signet ring on one finger almost making her wince as his fingers closed around hers.

“Any help we can give you, any at all,” he said, his tone serious. “Michael was a great scientist and he had children too… whatever we can do to help.”

Jack Dorsey led them both along a series of corridors, down two flights of stairs, through numerous security doors and finally brought them to a halt in front of a glass panelled door, again with a security system fitted to it. Behind his shoulder, through the glass panel, Kate could see several people in white coats bent over microscopes and making notes on clipboards.

Jack Dorsey's manner changed a little. Up in the office suite, he'd been serious and calm, although still with that air of suppressed energy. Here, clearly his natural environment, it was as if that energy became apparent. His eyes noticeably brightened.

"This is the lab," he said, tapping in a code on the security panel of the door. They heard the
thunk
of a heavy-duty lock drawing back. Dorsey held the door open for them.

Kate was first struck by the warmth.
.. and the smell. Underneath the antiseptic wash of disinfectant was the earthy, musty smell of mice. She could see a bank of stacked plastic cages over by the far wall. The two people who'd been visible through the door looked up curiously as the detectives and Dorsey approached.

"These are Michael's colleagues," Dorsey said. "Sarah Brennan and Parvinder Goram." He introduced the detectives and the two scientists turned looks of mixed comprehension and apprehension towards them.

Kate opened her mouth to ask a question but just as she was framing the sentence, Theo got there first.

"You worked closely with Michael Frank?" he asked, directing the question to Sarah Brennan as the older of the two women. She was in her late forties, with smooth dark hair and a pleasant, careworn face.

She nodded. She looked at Jack Dorsey with an expression Kate couldn’t quite place.

“Don’t worry, Sarah,” Dorsey said smiling. “It’s all perfectly straightforward. I’ll leave you with the detectives.”

The laboratory door
thunked
shut behind him. Kate raised her eyebrows in what she hoped was a pleasantly interrogative way. “You worked closely with Michael?” she asked Sarah Brennan again.

"Yes.” Sarah tucked her hair behind her ears. She was wearing a rather lovely pair of diamond earrings. “The project he'd been hired for was something I'd been interested in for a while. I transferred over from another department when I heard he'd be working here."

Again, Kate began to say something and Theo cut across her. She hoped her annoyance didn't show on her face.

"You knew him well, then?"

Sarah nodded again. Kate's eyes dropped to her hands, noting the lack of a wedding ring, the short, blunt, practical nails.

"We'd worked together before he came
here, actually," Sarah was saying. "We were both at the same lab back in Northumberland - this was back in the nineties. Quite funny that we ended up working together again, but not that surprising. His research background was in a quite a niche area and mine is the same. I suppose it was fairly inevitable that we would end up working together again."

“How about you, Doctor Goram?” Kate jumped in before Theo could draw a breath. Again, she was forcibly reminded of how different working life was going to be now. She and Olbeck had interviewed together seamlessly, years of knowing when to talk and when to keep quiet meaning they didn’t even have to think about who was going to lead on the questions. Theo’s style was obviously very different.

Parvinder Goram was probably younger than thirty-five. She had a thin, pretty face and eyes that were ringed with shadow that could have been exhaustion, but might have been genetic. Just glimpsed underneath the collar of her lab coat was a bright red fluffy jumper, which struck an oddly frivolous note.

She was less forthcoming than Sarah Brennan,
or perhaps she had less to say. “Michael was my supervisor,” she said. “I’m two years into my doctorate. So, technically, I’m a ‘Ms’, not a doctor, yet.”

“Sorry,” said Kate. “How was Michael to work for?”

Parvinder cast a glance at Sarah, a glance that was too quick for Kate to decipher. “He was fine,” she said.

“Can you tell us anything more about him?” said Theo. He edged forward a little, his shoulder nudging Kate’s, as if he
were literally trying to budge her out of the conversation. She gave him an annoyed glance.

Parvinder took in Theo’s handsome face and well-cut suit and her manner changed. She
smiled a little flirtatiously. “He was a bit of a cliché, in some ways,” she said, with something that was almost a giggle. Sarah Brennan’s face flickered a little. Parvinder went on. “I mean, he was quite absent minded and he was always late for everything. He was always losing things. I can’t remember how many times he’d shout out from his office, ‘has anyone seen my… whatever,’ and mostly we hadn’t.”

“He was very good at his job,” broke in Sarah. She shot a look at Parvinder that Kate interpreted as repressive. “Yes, he was a little absent minded
, now and again, but that’s because he was always thinking about something more important than the minutia of daily life.”

“I see,” said Kate. “Well, I—
”

“Can you tell me anything about Michael’s personal relationships?”
Theo cut across her again.

Kate couldn’t help glancing at him in surprise. Where was he going with this?

“What do you mean?” asked Parvinder.

“His relationship with his wife, his friends,” said Theo. “Did he have a good relationship with his wife
, that you know of?”

Sarah Brennan was frowni
ng. Parvinder looked mystified. “I suppose so,” she said, “I don’t really know.”

“Where were you going with that?” asked Kate as they drove back to the office.

“What d’you mean?”

“The questions about Michael Frank’s wife. What was all that about?”

Theo gave her a strange look
; half indulgent, half annoyed. “Get with the program, Kate,” he said. “We’re assuming that this is a straight act of terrorism. Aren’t we?”

Kate nodded, reluctantly.

“Well,” said Theo, changing gears with a cocky flick of his wrist, “What if it’s not? What if it’s for some other reason? A personal reason?”

“A
car
bomb
?” Kate tried to keep the scepticism from her voice. “What the f—” She cleared her throat and tried again. “I mean, what the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s just an idea,” said Theo, airily. “I’m just running with it. What if it’s not a terrorist attack at all? Perhaps his wife wanted him dead. Perhaps he’s pissed another scientist off. I don’t know, I’m just thinking out loud.”

“Right,” said Kate. “His respectable, middle-class wife and mother of his two children decides to forego the divorce court by planting an explosive device under his car. Yes. I can see how that might happen.”

Theo reddened a little.

“I’m not saying it’s
likely
. I’m thinking aloud, here.”

Kate made a mammoth effort to stop herself casting her eyes up to the ceiling.

“Have you told Anderton your theories?”

Theo changed down gears as they approached a T-junction, this time with more of an annoyed shove.
“No, I haven’t. I don’t have any
theories
. I’m just thinking aloud.”

“All righty
, then,” said Kate, this time not bothering to keep the contempt from her voice.

“Feel free to chip in with any ideas of your own,” Theo
said snappily. She heard him mutter the rest of the sentence under his breath and despite pretending not to hear, heard the words clearly enough.
If you have any, that is.
She breathed in sharply through her nose, clamped her mouth shut, and looked out of the window. They spent the rest of the return journey in silence.