Often in the darkest of times, officers pulled together to help each other through. One such example was known as the Wall of Shame. To the right of the office, sellotaped to the magnolia wall, were the latest campaign posters created by HQ and rotated on a monthly basis. This month it was a campaign against domestic violence. The month before it was burglary and robbery awareness. They were preaching to the converted as far as Ruby was concerned. The posters were targeted towards members of the public, and it made little sense to have them on the wall of their office, but every month DCI Worrow would check they were on display.
Officers were far more interested in the pictures on the wall across the way, which was positioned behind DC Ash Baker’s desk. Ash was a dab hand with editing software and his comic tributes raised more than a smile or two. DI Downes was portrayed as Liam Neeson; his face superimposed on the famous scene from the movie Taken. However, in Ash’s version, Downes was on the phone ordering takeaway food. Luddy was James Bond, complete with gun, suit and a licence to make tea. As for Ruby. . . often there were times she was afraid to look. The last poster displayed her as the famous Shoreditch flasher after she failed to notice the button on her shirt was undone during a drunken night out. But today there were no faces on display, merely landscapes, sunsets, and dolphins diving into the sea. They were the backdrop to motivational words printed in white on top – at least that’s what Ruby thought.
‘Are you trying to get promoted, mate?’ she said, peering across Ash’s desk at the posters on the wall.
‘Ah, do you like them? Yeah, I know how much Ma’am Worrow likes that kind of stuff, so I thought I’d get with the programme.’
‘Mmm,’ Ruby frowned, taking a closer look. Silently her lips moved as she read each of the words in turn, each one widening her smile. ‘Except, these don’t contain motivational messages, do they?’
Her colleague’s laughter softened the air as heads turned to watch Ash explain. ‘I thought I’d kill two birds with the one stone and cut down on swearing in the office too.’
Ruby arched an eyebrow. ‘I hate to break it to you, but the words cockwomble, bawbag and shitpouch look pretty sweary to me.’
Ash reached for an empty coffee jar, which had a slit cut in the lid. ‘That’s the beauty of it, we’re allowed one swear word a day. Anyone that goes beyond that has to stick a quid in the jar. The money goes towards the tea club, so it’s for a good cause.’
‘Genius,’ Ruby drawled. ‘So what’s the swear word for today?’
‘Wazzock,’ Ash said proudly. ‘It’s northern slang for idiot. Tomorrow we elevate to fuckwit, which means colossal idiot.’
‘Uh huh,’ Ruby nodded, her gaze falling on the end poster. ‘I’m not sure our DCI will appreciate Friday, she’s not so keen on the C-word.’
‘You could have a point,’ Ash said, the grin sliding off his face as he caught sight of her in the doorway. Turning back to his computer, he began clacking furiously on his keyboard.
Deep in conversation, DCI Worrow stood with DI Downes at the open door, barely giving them a glance before retreating to the safety of her office upstairs.
As Downes entered the room, he beckoned to Ruby to follow him into his office. Not a good sign, judging by his company seconds before. Ruby took the spare swivel chair, feeling like a naughty schoolgirl about to be told off.
Downes removed his suit jacket and rested it on the back of the chair. Taking a seat across from her, he tugged on his tie. It was flecked grey, the same colour as his eyes. Ruby wondered if someone was doing his laundry, as these days his shirts appeared freshly pressed. It was a vast improvement on the crumpled garments he had been wearing for the last few months. These days, his clothes smelt of fabric conditioner rather than whiskey, although it had been a while since Ruby was close enough to check.
‘I’ve just been discussing that intelligence you submitted with Worrow,’ Downes said, crossing his long legs as he sat back in his chair. ‘She’s very interested in your source.’
Ruby knew it was only a matter of time before he got on to her about it. Her superiors may accept her story of an anonymous tip-off, but there was no pulling the wool over Jack Downes’s eyes.
‘Yeah,’ Ruby sighed, swinging the chair with the tips of her red high heels. Today she was coordinated, with red lips and nails to match. ‘I’ve got some great contacts.’ The seat was set far too high, but the lever had broken, making her feel more schoolgirlish than ever as she swung left to right. And God knows she never behaved herself at school.
Downes folded his arms, speaking in a tone which relayed he was unimpressed. ‘Yeah, contacts. More like you’ve been hooking up with your old partner in crime.’
‘Partner in crime, who would that be?’ she said, trying her best to look puzzled.
‘Sure you know very well. You’ve been meeting Nathan Crosby, haven’t you?’ He shook his head. ‘Don’t you think your loyalty would be better served to your job?’
‘We talk to lots of criminals in the police,’ Ruby said drily. ‘I’m only doing what you asked me.’
‘Don’t be cheeky,’ Downes said. ‘It doesn’t suit you.’
Ruby grinned. ‘Oh, I rather think it does.’
‘Look, I know I asked you to do some digging on the family, but there’s a warrant out for Crosby’s arrest. Orders from on high. You need to be bringing him in.’
‘And I will. When the time is right,’ Ruby muttered, wishing he wouldn’t blow so hot and cold.
‘Remember who pays your wages. Without the police, you wouldn’t have a roof over your head.’
As he ran his fingers through his hair, Ruby could tell he had taken some heat from DCI Worrow. It must have annoyed him being told off by a woman half his age and with a tenth of his experience. But it was not her fault Worrow was keeping close tabs on him, and Ruby would not back down now. She thought of the scruffy flat that she could barely afford on her police wage, and the luxury accommodation that Nathan had gifted her months before. It elicited another smile, much to Downes’s annoyance. It always wound him up that she had another side to her that he could not access, and she had no intention of making him any the wiser.
‘You gave me the all-clear to do some digging, and I’ve risked my neck getting my hands on that intel report. I’ve sacrificed everything to get where I am, but you still question my loyalty.’
‘Look, I don’t doubt you mean well, I’m just saying you make me nervous. We’ve got a good team out there. I don’t want your shady dealings dragging us down. If you know where Crosby is, you’d better call it in. Headquarters want a result, and they want it yesterday.’
So that was what this was all about: a knee-jerk reaction to publicity surrounding the murder. ‘The last time I checked it was innocent until proven guilty. You’re having a go at me for defending everything that this job is about. I’m trying to catch the killer – the real one. So I won’t be making any hasty arrests to suit the powers that be.’
Downes frowned, his lips pursed tightly together. ‘The order’s been given. You’re to arrest Crosby as a matter of urgency.’
Ruby rose. Her superiors could give all the orders they wanted. As a British police constable, the decision to arrest lay squarely on her shoulders. She was well within her rights to turn them down. They could always instruct another officer, who would happily comply, but Ruby was the only one likely to come close enough to do it.
‘I’ll make us a brew,’ she said, taking his empty cup from his desk. She was parched. Despite their differences, she would harbour no ill feelings. He was just looking out for her in his own infuriating way.
‘Fine,’ he said as she opened the door to leave. ‘Have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
‘Understood, boss, I consider myself warned.’ Nudging open the door, she left his office to join her team.