It never ceased to amaze Caroline how interlinked mental and physical energy were. Even though she’d felt ready to sleep for weeks, the call from Sara Henshaw had provided a boost of energy like no other.
Her car hit the speed bumps along Ashwell Road a little harder than usual as she headed back to work, keen to see for herself what Sara had uncovered.
Sara could go on to big things — if she wanted to. Caroline was sure of that. But there was a clear lack of confidence in her, a sense that she didn’t appreciate her talents and value to the team anywhere near as much as others did. That was often the case in policing. The culture, stress and sheer lack of time meant positive reinforcement often fell by the wayside. Despite this, Sara always seemed to come up with the goods.
Caroline parked her car in the small car park at the front of the police station and headed inside.
‘You should have been home hours ago,’ she said when she found Sara in the office.
Sara simply shrugged. ‘Plenty to be doing. Anyway. Not much point going back to an empty flat, is there?’
Caroline thought she detected a hint of sadness in her eyes. She wasn’t one to pry into her colleagues’ private lives, but she’d got the distinct impression Sara had been single for some time, and that it wasn’t a situation she was entirely happy with. She made a mental note to have a chat with her when the time was right. ‘Well, I appreciate the dedication,’ she replied. ‘What have you found?’
Sara sat down at her desk as Caroline stood behind her. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘I’ve been doing some digging into Amie Tanner, like you asked. It seems she’s got a pretty colourful past.’
‘I see. Go on.’
‘It’s looking like she’s a bit of a bad luck charm, to say the least. We already know she lost her dad ten years ago. But five years before that, Amie — Amie Murray as she was then — was seeing a bloke called Russell Speakman. Until he died.’
‘Died? What were the circumstances?’
‘Suspicious. He fell down the stairs at home. The cause of death was given as cranio-cerebral trauma and intra-thoracic visceral injuries.’
‘In English?’
‘From what I can make out, he cracked his skull open and broke a rib, which pierced his lung.’
‘Christ. I’ll be walking down the stairs more carefully in future.’
‘It’s a weird one. The stairs were uncarpeted and there were hard floors upstairs and down, which won’t have helped. Pretty steep stairs, too, according to the report. But it also shows that he tumbled as he fell and hit his head at least twice. I don’t know about you, but I’ve slipped down the stairs a few times before and I always end up a few steps further down on my arse. I don’t go bouncing around like a tumble dryer ball. Even if he fell awkwardly, how likely is it that a grown adult male will manage to do that much damage to himself?’
‘Was he under the influence of anything?’ Caroline asked.
Sara shook her head. ‘Toxicology all clear.’
‘And what are the odds of him falling like that? Do you know?’
Sara shrugged. ‘No idea, but I wouldn’t put money on them. The report says as much itself, but the coroner’s verdict was accidental death. There were no other suspicious circumstances.’
‘And what about Amie? Where was she?’
‘Out for a walk with a friend, apparently. Want to guess who the friend was?’
‘Go on.’
‘One Gavin Tanner. Her now-husband.’
Caroline realised she’d been holding her breath — for how long, she didn’t know — and she exhaled heavily. ‘Christ. So that’s twice he’s been her alibi when people around her have died?’
‘So it seems.’
Caroline clenched her jaw. ‘I really hate to ask this, Sara, but have you looked into the circumstances surrounding her dad’s death?’
‘I’m starting to now. He’d been ill for some time, I know that. There’s nothing to indicate foul play, but I’ll definitely be following that up in more detail after this little discovery.’
Caroline sat down and rubbed her face. ‘What does your gut say, Sara? Are we looking at some sort of black widow here?’
‘I honestly don’t know. But you’re right. Something doesn’t quite sit properly, does it? It seems like too much of a coincidence.’
‘I know. There goes any chance I had of sleeping tonight. Brilliant work, though, Sara. Seriously. Well done. It’s probably best you go home and get some kip, though. Won’t do you any good to be tired tomorrow. I’ve a feeling it’s going to be a big day.’
‘Maybe. I don’t need much sleep, to be honest. If I’m going to be sitting on my own back at the flat, I might as well sit on my own here and be of some use to someone.’
Caroline looked at her and gave a sympathetic smile. ‘Is there no-one special in your life? Sorry, I know I shouldn’t ask. In fact, I should probably already know. I don’t think it makes me a great boss either way.’
Sara smiled back, but it was a smile tinged with sadness. ‘You’re fine. And no, no-one special. Not anyone that knows it, anyway.’
Caroline cocked her head slightly. She’d had her suspicions in the past, but it wasn’t anything that had ever been spoken. ‘Are we talking about who I think we’re talking about?’
‘That depends on who you think we’re talking about,’ Sara answered with a coy smile.
‘Is the secret beau one Detective Constable Chilcott, by any chance?’
Sara’s unspoken response told Caroline she was absolutely correct. She’d long suspected Aidan had been keen on Sara, but it had come as a surprise to discover it was the other way round.
‘You won’t say anything, will you?’ Sara asked.
‘To Aidan? No, of course not. It’s not my place to do so. Anyway, what would I say? I’m not exactly going to go running up to him tomorrow morning, singing “Sara and Aidan, sitting in a tree, K.I.S.S.I.N.G.” am I?’
Sara laughed. ‘No, what I mean is I don’t think he’s interested. I don’t think I’m his type.’
Caroline gave a disapproving look. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. It probably hasn’t even crossed his mind. That’s no bad thing, though.’
‘Mmm. Maybe.’
‘Listen, you get yourself off home and get some sleep,’ Caroline replied, standing up, her mind drifting back to the investigation. ‘Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.’