Thursday 17 February, 10:00
The building was the colour of wet sand, with a large chimney stack rising from it, dominating the skyline. It could have been mistaken for a practical church, except for the lack of any cross. It sat squat and functional in the bare grounds. There was no one around, the only noise the crunch of Loxton’s shoes through the gravel path as she made her way inside.
The hall was plain, with nothing on the walls. There were seven neat rows of cheap plastic chairs. At the front was a set of navy curtains, part-way open, reminding her of community theatres she’d been to as a girl. Peeking through the curtains was a simple pine coffin, which sat on a conveyor belt, waiting to be pulled away.
Kowalski was stood at the front of the room, the only attendant, staring through the gap in the curtains at the coffin that contained his old friend. The priest stood at the front facing his congregation of two, reciting the Lord’s Prayer quickly, clearly wanting the service to be over with. He threw nervous glances at the coffin and the entrance, as if anxious that angry family members of the victims would arrive, or, worse, that Lena would rise from the dead.
It was so different from the recent funerals of Loxton’s friends, where she and Jane had clutched at each other’s hands to stop from screaming. Emma, Sarah and Gabriella – each funeral unique, but somehow chillingly the same. The churchyards had been full to bursting with family, friends and police officers gathered around the graves, people having travelled for miles to see them off.
Here, it was just Kowalski and Loxton. She stood beside him, took his hand in hers and squeezed it tight. He squeezed back and they stayed that way as the priest finished the prayer and finally the box was pulled along the conveyor belt away from them. Once the coffin had passed the curtains, which swung clumsily closed, she felt finally free of Lena.
Outside, the air was biting, and grey clouds raced each other across a dull white sky. Her shoulder throbbed as the cold seeped into her bones.
‘What will you do now?’ she asked him, wrapping her arms around herself to try to keep warm.
‘I’ll take her ashes back to Poland. I’ll scatter them on her parents’ old farm. They’re not too far from the main town, on a hill overlooking a lake. Her parents would have appreciated that if they were still here; they were good people. And she used to tell me it’s where she was happiest.’
She nodded, words failing her. All she felt was the burning rage as she thought of her friends, brutally murdered by Lena.
‘Police work destroyed Lena,’ Kowalski said. ‘Szyman´ski destroyed her. The lines between protector and predator became blurred. And because of that, Emma, Sarah and Gabriella are dead.’
‘She was ill,’ Loxton said. She had to believe that. The idea that anyone could be so easily corrupted was too much to accept.
Kowalski closed his eyes for a moment, lost in thought.
‘When’s the misconduct hearing?’ she asked, desperate to pull him away from thoughts of the past. And secretly she couldn’t bear to hear him talk of Lena. It was too raw.
‘In a couple of months. I guess I’ll be seeing you then; I’m afraid they’re going to call you. That’s what my federation representative told me.’
‘I’ve talked to Winter about this. I want to come with you for the whole hearing.’
Kowalski looked away. ‘Can you do that?’
‘Yes, if you don’t mind? The board has agreed. None of this was your fault, Dominik.’
Kowalski focused on the passing clouds. He wouldn’t look at her. ‘If Emma and the others had never met me, then they’d still be alive now. Lena had been asking people about me. Finding out everything about my life here, who I’d been involved with. If I’d made the connection between her and Szyman´ski back in Poland, realized that she was sick, then they’d still be alive.’
‘You told me once that we can’t worry about the what ifs and the maybes in this job. Reality keeps us busy enough. This is on Lena – no one else. She became unhinged after meeting Szyman´ski. You’re a good detective, you’ve done good things, and we’re not going to lose you.’
He nodded, keeping his eyes away from hers. ‘I wanted to say thanks, for keeping in touch with me. I appreciate it. I’d understand if you didn’t want to.’
‘Dominik, we don’t give up on each other. Ever. You told me that.’ Loxton smiled at him.
‘Do you know which murder team you’re going to be posted to? I’m glad you’re going back. I know it’s what you wanted.’
‘I’m not going.’ Now she couldn’t look at him. ‘I turned them down.’
‘Why?’
‘I’m not finished with Southwark yet. And after everything, I think I need some time away from murder. To recover. I’m not ready to go back yet. We lost a lot of friends. Good friends.’
He nodded and swallowed hard. ‘Too many. I don’t know how we’ll ever go back to how we were before.’
‘We won’t, Dominik. But that will have to be enough. Some things you don’t get over; you just get through them, and this is going to have to be one of them.’
He nodded. ‘Thanks for coming today. I didn’t expect you to under the circumstances. You’d best get going. I need to collect her ashes later when they’re ready.’
‘I passed a pub on the way here. I’ll wait with you. We can sit in there together.’
‘Are you sure?’ He looked at her in surprise.
She gave his hand another brief squeeze and looked him in the eye. ‘More than I’ve ever been before.’