‘What’s she doing here?’
Harri was startled by the tone of her former boss. She looked up from the screen on Sabih’s desk as Detective Chief Inspector Lee Powell strode towards them. He was a strutting cockerel at the best of times, and never missed an opportunity to highlight another’s failings or broadcast his own successes. Harri was convinced the reason he’d pushed so hard for her dismissal was because he viewed a London high-flier as a threat to his job. He looked older than Harri remembered, like an aging soap star whose best days were behind him. His pressed white shirt shone, his black shoes gleamed, his creases were pin sharp, and his tie was held in perfect position by a silver clip. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, but Harri suspected this was for ‘man of the people’ effect, rather than comfort.
Harri flushed with shame when she saw him, and angry words bubbled in her throat. This was the man who’d abandoned her, betrayed her, failed her when she’d needed him most. She knew expressing her anger would be counterproductive, so she said, ‘I’m here to report an assault.’
Powell gestured at the monitor, which showed Ben Elmys and David Asha leaving Royal Stoke Hospital on the night of Elizabeth Asha’s death. ‘Is that the Asha investigation?’
Harri looked at Sabih. ‘You told him?’
‘I—’ Sabih began defensively, but Powell spoke for him.
‘Told me? Do you imagine any responsible police officer would let a potential murder investigation go unreported? Thank you for any help you’ve given, drawing this matter to police attention, but this is now an official investigation, and you will have nothing further to do with it.’
‘This is my case,’ Harri objected.
‘Your case?’ Powell replied. ‘Even if you were still on the force, you wouldn’t be anywhere near this investigation. Your prior involvement with the suspect excludes you.’
The way he said the word ‘involvement’ made it sound sordid, and Harri was wounded by the insinuation and Sabih’s betrayal. Her former partner couldn’t meet her gaze, which was probably just as well. She was furious with him.
‘You’re not welcome here any more, Kealty,’ Powell said. ‘You know the way out.’
Powell didn’t wait for a reply. Maybe he was afraid of the response his humiliating tirade would provoke? Or perhaps he simply didn’t care? He marched across the room, went into his private office and slammed the door.
Harri was left to face the pitying looks of Watson, Romney, Juneja and her other former colleagues. Some went beyond pitying and their thin smiles told her they positively enjoyed her humiliation. She was too stunned to react immediately. She hadn’t considered Sabih was obliged to file an official report, and was annoyed at her own naivety.
‘ “You know the way out”?’ She finally found her voice. ‘This investigation wouldn’t exist without me.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Sabih said.
‘You should tattoo that on your forehead. Thanks for screwing up the only thing I had going for me.’
‘Harri, I’m—’
‘It’s one thing to tell him about the investigation. But you didn’t have to tell Powell I dated Elmys.’
Sabih was about to respond, but Harri didn’t give him the chance. She got up and stormed out, ignoring the gleeful looks she got from some of her former colleagues.
Harri was shaking when she finally made it outside. Her mind raced with all the things she could have said to Powell. She hated him even more for the way he’d humiliated her in front of people who already held her in such low regard. Her cheeks burned and she longed for a way to vent her fury, but she would just have to swallow it and accept it as part of her, like so much of the negativity she’d experienced these past weeks.
Her phone rang, and when she pulled it from her pocket, she fumbled and dropped it. She prayed the screen hadn’t shattered against the pavement, but when she picked it up she saw a spider’s web of cracks splitting the glass.
Great. Just great.
Tears formed as she answered the call. ‘Hello,’ she said, almost choking on the word.
‘Ms Kealty?’ a woman’s voice asked.
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Sarah Abiola from Keele. Would you be able to come out here? We need to talk.’