Valentine closed his hand around the file and held it beneath his arm. It was still there, held in place by simmering anger, when he slammed the door to his own office. A band was tightening around his chest now, as he slapped the blue folder down on his desk and paced towards the window. He remembered the doctor’s advice he’d once received about his breathing in such situations. It was a variant on the counting to ten method: taking a breath and stretching it out was a way of slowing the escalation in heart rate. It had seemed to work, at first, but he was too aware of the trick now for it to do anything other than constrict his breathing. He looked out to the sky, grey as ever, the uniformity separated only by a white smear of low-hanging cloud. The darkening horizon indicated there would be rain soon, and likely blown on the back of gales that were already worrying the streets below.
The DCI fell into distraction, watching a bin lorry inching along the road. A bin man – it still seemed safe to assign gender to such a lowly position – was following the lorry with a green wheelie-bin dragging behind him. If Valentine had his way DI Davis would soon be eyeing refuse-worker status as something to aspire to. The thought pulled him out of his anger. Davis was a family man – he had three children, according to the chief super – why would he deny the fact so brazenly?
Valentine gazed out at the approaching gloom that covered the street vista. The rooftops were already incurring a waxy sheen from the dimming sun and any hope of a turnaround seemed forlorn. The bin lorry had reached the end of the road now, was turning and heading out of sight. He imagined another row of green wheelie-bins lined up, perhaps miles on end, that needed to be collected. Was the work really so different from his own? It was just cleaning up the mess of others. He made a low grunting laugh and headed back to the incident room with his head somewhat cooler, if not any clearer.
The door’s hinges sung out as the DCI entered the incident room. There was little recognition of Valentine’s arrival – the squad was too deeply involved in the case by this stage – and few acknowledged him. He stood in the doorway’s blunt shade, swaying a little as he scanned the room for Davis, who he quickly picked out. The DI was standing before the board, scratching the edge of his nose. Davis grew dimly aware that he was being observed and, turning towards his watcher, lost several shades of colour from his face.
For a few moments Valentine returned Davis’s solemn stare, until he was interrupted by the sound of quick footsteps in the corridor behind him. ‘Ah, you’re back,’ said DI McCormack.
‘I was in with Dino.’
‘Oh dear. Still, at least you’re all in one piece.’
Valentine turned away from McCormack to see if Davis was still watching him. The DI’s stare sunk away, and he returned to the board. ‘Was there something you wanted?’
‘Yes, I’ve just burned an audio copy of the Alex McGarvie interview Davis conducted last night, I thought we could go through it.’
Valentine made a show of checking his watch, tapping the face. ‘Give me ten minutes. I need to have a word with Ian – alone.’
‘Sounds ominous. Is there something I should know?’
‘Ask me again in ten minutes.’ He peered round the DI and started to move towards the other end of the room.
‘Okay. I’ll see you in ten, then,’ said McCormack, hoisting up her shoulders into a perplexed shrug.
At the door to the glassed-off little corner office, Valentine grabbed the handle and took a step inside. He still had Davis’s attention and didn’t need to do any more than motion him with a nod to follow. When the DI entered behind him, Valentine turned back to the door and closed the Venetian blinds – more for the effect of unnerving Davis than the maintenance of privacy. If he was going to deliver a carpeting, it could serve as a public warning to anyone else considering lying openly to the boss.
‘Take a seat, Ian,’ he said.
Davis pulled out the one chair facing the desk and sat down. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘Well that depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On what you tell me, Ian.’
Valentine was leaning on the window ledge, his arms folded, as he faced the back of DI Davis’s head.
Davis turned. ‘What’s this about?’
‘Guess where I was this morning, Ian?’
‘You were going over the Abbie McGarvie case with the chief super, weren’t you?’
‘That’s right. I can’t say I’m normally a fan of such gatherings but on the odd occasion I do uncover some very interesting snippets.’
‘I’m sorry, you’ve lost me.’
Valentine unfolded his arms and started to twiddle his wedding ring. ‘Is there something, anything, that you think you might have misled me about, Ian?’
‘No. Nothing.’
‘Are you very sure about that?’ He smacked his hands together. ‘Because much as I take a dim view of my officers lying to me, I take an even dimmer view of them trying to cover it up.’
Davis’s brows settled into a frown, his whole face seemed to tighten and firm. ‘I’m quite sure. Perhaps you should just come out with whatever grievance you imagine that you have with me.’
‘You told me that you were single, Ian. I distinctly recall the exact conversation, and a second conversation with DI McCormack who said you had confirmed the same to her. But, today I discover from CS Martin that you are in actual fact a married father of three.’
His features relaxed. ‘I am single.’
‘What?’
‘I am a single man. And I live alone, I don’t think I’ve lied to you at all.’
‘So, are you saying that CS Martin has lied to me?’
Davis touched his forehead and sighed. ‘I suppose you could say, on paper, that I am married. But I’ve left all that behind.’
‘You’ve separated from your wife?’
‘No. Not in any official sense. We just don’t communicate.’
Valentine pushed himself from the ledge and took a step towards the seated Davis. ‘And the children?’
‘Yes, those too.’
‘You don’t have access?’
‘No.’
‘Have you sought access?’
‘No.’
‘Ian, you have three children and a wife. You’re telling me that you have effectively abandoned your family.’
DI Davis remained still, his face stonily unresponsive. He didn’t reply.
Valentine tried to disinter an emotion from the DI’s expression but couldn’t find any. His own emotions were telling him to grab the detective by the shoulders and shake him until he saw sense, but it didn’t seem to be an option. It was beyond his remit to inquire about the circumstances of Davis’s decision, no matter how much it offended his moral sensibilities. He found his focus primarily on the children. Surely that’s what we were all living for, surely that’s what the job was about: securing a safe place for them to grow up in? As his thoughts spiralled Valentine realised he was attributing his own attitude to Davis, and he couldn’t hope to get anywhere near the truth that way.
‘Okay, Ian, let’s leave it at that,’ said Valentine. ‘But I don’t want to see you misrepresenting the truth to me again. And I mean even your version of the truth. I demand loyalty from my squad, and that means I won’t tolerate fudging of facts, playing semantics, or bloody well being economic with the actualité. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, perfectly.’
There was a knock at the door. Valentine nodded to Davis, who let in DI McCormack on his way out. She made a show of closing the door behind her.
‘Jesus, what’s up with Ian?’ said McCormack.
‘Good question.’
‘He walked out that door like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.’
‘Maybe he is. Certainly it’s no weight I’d like to carry.’
‘Perhaps you should tell me more.’ She walked in front of the DCI and waited for a response, her head lilting towards her shoulder. The expression suggested she felt left out on new and useful information and she wasn’t going to let it slide.
‘Sit down, Sylvia.’ Valentine walked around the desk and dragged out his chair, the castors squealing. ‘I know you’ve expressed concern about Davis in the past.’
‘I think concern is a bit strong. His work’s been sound, better than that even, it’s just on an interpersonal level I’ve found him a little . . . odd.’
‘We’re on the same page, at least we were until I spoke to Dino about him earlier.’ Valentine detailed his talk with the chief super and the response from DI Davis. He kept the exchange factual, trying not to let his anger at the betrayal influence McCormack’s own reaction.
‘Wow. I’m a bit lost for words,’ said the DI. ‘Why would he do that?’
‘I’ve no idea. It seems such an unnatural course of action to me. Even if the situation had become difficult, as obviously these things can be, it still seems a very extreme course to take.’
‘Did he seem in any way regretful, or doubting of his actions?’
Valentine shook his head. ‘Quite the opposite, he was very matter of fact, like this was the only sane thing to do.’
‘I’d have to disagree. In fact, I’d have to say I think entirely cutting off your wife, and more importantly, your three kids, sounds utterly insane. I don’t know what kind of cognitive gymnastics you’d have to put yourself through to make that sound rational, or even doable.’
‘I’ve had rows with Clare, as you know, but even if we went our separate ways I wouldn’t be able to simply flick a switch and pretend the past never happened. And as for my kids, the very idea that I might never see them again would finish me. I live for those girls, and I’d die before giving them up.’
McCormack’s mouth tightened into a thin line; she seemed to be holding back uneasy doubts. ‘I like your rationale a lot more than Ian’s.’
‘I think it suffices to say that our colleague is a very troubled man. Even more troubled than perhaps we already suspected.