Chapter 35
1067 Words
35
The first cup of coffee in the morning was always the most valuable. It was like liquid gold to Jack. He didn’t care how hot it was, either. Once it was in the cup and the bitter aroma was assaulting his nostrils, there was no stopping him.
Having taken a good healthy slug, he unlocked his mobile phone and fired off a text to his daughter.
Sorry. Will explain later x
He thought she probably wouldn’t be awake yet, but the response was almost instantaneous.
Honestly, don’t worry. I’m used to it x
That response almost broke his heart. He knew what she meant, though. She wasn’t just used to having her father come home at a different time every day — if at all — but was used to fending for herself. Even her mother had abandoned her after taking her away from Jack, and he doubted whether his ex-wife’s parents had been much better guardians to her. It was extraordinary that she’d turned out to be as level-headed as she was. That was one of the many complicated reasons why he gave her so much slack.
He thought about replying to her, telling her he’d make it up to her, but he knew that was a promise he couldn’t be certain to keep. In this job, there were no certainties at all.
‘Morning,’ came the familiar voice of Wendy Knight as she strolled into the incident room. ‘Christ. You look like you’ve been here all night.’
‘Piss off,’ Culverhouse grunted.
‘Ah. First coffee,’ she said, pointing at the mug. ‘I’ll give you a few minutes to catch up with the rest of mankind. Let me know when the brain’s switched on.’
Sometimes, Culverhouse wondered who was the superior officer. The small, tight-knit team had a dynamic like no other. It was almost as if the traditional roles of Detective Chief Inspector, Detective Sergeant and Detective Constable didn’t exist. When the s**t hit the fan and someone had to take the rap, though, he knew he would very definitely be the head of the unit and the person ultimately responsible.
Wendy would make a good inspector, there was no doubt about that. She seemed to have a way of knowing how to manage people, how to get the best out of them. When he’d become DCI there was none of this performance management bullshit around. He was just the Detective Sergeant who’d been on the team longest and wanted the job. He’d had a chat with his superiors, done an exam and got his stripes. True enough, he’d been earmarked as the next DCI for a little while before then, while the unit was under the tutelage of Robin Grundy. In those days, a nod from the incumbent DCI was enough to more or less guarantee you the job, pending paperwork.
People often said that Jack Culverhouse was resistant to the changing world of policing, but he knew that was bullshit. The world of policing had already changed, long ago. The line had long been crossed. He wasn’t resisting anything; he was just carrying on the same way he always had done. The way that got results. And in a town like Mildenheath, that was all that mattered.
He wondered whether Wendy Knight would get the same sort of results if and when she became a Senior Investigating Officer. A few years ago, he would’ve said no. But he was starting to see a different side to her, a side that told him that perhaps she wasn’t completely closed off to a few of the old-school ideas. She was still one hell of a long way from being Jack Culverhouse’s protégé, but she certainly wasn’t the goody-two-shoes Detective Sergeant who’d first tiptoed into his office on that first investigation into the suspicious death of Ella Barrington, which ended up becoming a manhunt for a serial killer — a manhunt that was to have devastating and long-lasting personal consequences for Wendy.
He admired her resilience during and after that case. The effects had been clear, but she rarely let it impact on her work. He couldn’t say the same about his own personal life, and for that he had to give her credit where credit was due.
‘What’s your secret, then?’ he called over to her. ‘You don’t look like someone who’s been up all night swotting up from Blackstone’s.’
‘That’s because I haven’t,’ Wendy said, her voice subdued. ‘Not much point if I’m going to have to wait until next year to take the exams. Might as well get this case out of the way first, then look at my options.’
Culverhouse walked over to her. ‘What do you mean, options? You thinking about not bothering at all?’
Wendy sighed. ‘I don’t know. I’ll think about it more next year. I’ve got other things on my mind at the moment.’
He looked at Wendy as she absentmindedly shuffled through a pile of papers on her desk, noticing that she looked utterly dejected when the subject of her inspector’s exams had been brought up. He couldn’t help but feel responsible for that.
Everywhere around him recently, he’d seen people trying but failing. Local people living on council estates, trying to get by in life without a chance in the world. His own colleagues, trying to combine a personal life with their careers and failing miserably. Even last night, the invitation from Christine asking him out on a date. He hadn’t even bothered to reply to the poor woman. And what had she done to deserve that? He told himself he’d reply to her later today, and apologise for not getting back to her sooner. If truth be told, though, he was worried. Could he start dating again at his age? He had to be honest and say he had no real interest in it, but the thought did intrigue him. Could he really be happy after all?
‘Listen, I’ve... uh... been having a few thoughts on that, actually,’ he said. ‘And I think you should go for it.’
‘But what about the case?’ Wendy asked.
Jack shrugged his shoulders. ‘Sod the case. We’re not getting anywhere as it is, and this time it’s not down to a lack of resources for once. No-one connected with Freddie Galloway is willing to talk, and having an extra person sitting behind a desk isn’t going to change that.’
‘I won’t need to take time off. I’ll just need a bit of leeway in not working past my allotted hours.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m sure we can sort something out.’
‘Are you sure?’ Wendy asked. ‘You seemed to be totally against the idea last time we spoke, what with Debbie having to take time off and—’
‘Look, just shut up and get on with it before I change my mind, alright?’
Wendy smiled, and before she knew what she was doing she’d embraced her DCI in a hug.
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Seriously. Thank you.’
- Writer
