Maud was sitting at her kitchen table, eating a piece of buttered toast and drinking tea. She was tired, the energy of the past days draining away from her and leaving her pensive. A case had been solved; a man had been charged with murder. But she didn’t feel exultant. It was such a sad story, such a familiar one.
Her phone rang and she saw it was Craig Weller. She was so startled that she had to compose herself before she answered.
‘Is something up?’ she said.
‘And hello to you too,’ Weller said.
‘I was just surprised.’
‘I want you to come in.’
‘What? Now?’
‘We’re going to have a press conference.’
‘On a Saturday afternoon?’
‘Just get here as soon as you can.’
Maud had a quick shower and changed into clothes that seemed more suitable for a detective appearing at a press conference. She tied her hair back and put on lip gloss. She picked up the letter she had written and put it in her jacket pocket.
Twenty minutes later, she was being led into Weller’s office. On the way over she had toyed with the idea of asking what was the point of this. A press conference on a Saturday afternoon was what you did when you wanted to bury a result, not boast about it. She decided there was no point in mentioning it. It was already arranged. There was nothing to be done, and it didn’t matter now anyway. But as she stepped inside the office, she saw that Weller wasn’t alone. He was with DI Kemp, and they were laughing together, as if in the middle of a shared joke. They looked round at her.
‘Good to see you, Maud,’ said Weller affably. ‘I hope you weren’t at the football.’
‘No, I wasn’t at the football.’
‘Football’s probably not your thing.’
‘I play it rather than watch it.’
‘Really?’ said Weller, raising an eyebrow. ‘Good for you. Women’s football used to be a bit of a joke when I was growing up, but you see it on the TV now.’
‘About the press conference,’ said Maud. She looked at Kemp. ‘I thought you were on holiday.’
‘I am.’
‘Danny’s kindly agreed to come in,’ said Weller. ‘After all, he was in charge of the inquiry at the beginning.’
‘What inquiry?’
‘The Kira Mullan murder inquiry, of course.’
‘I didn’t know there was a Kira Mullan murder inquiry. I mean, until I started it.’
Craig Weller laughed. He seemed in an unusually benign mood.
‘That’s really a sort of philosophical point,’ he said. ‘What I mean is that the inquiry that culminated in the current charges being brought against Harold Fisk started with Danny here in charge.’
‘It’s actually Harry,’ said Maud. ‘It’s not short for anything. Harry is his actual name.’ She turned to Kemp. ‘I see you’re wearing your funeral suit.’
He laughed in an unfriendly way.
‘It’s also my conference suit.’
‘Exactly.’ Weller’s expression became more serious. ‘An announcement like this is really about how we project ourself as a department. What we want to show is that we’re a team. It’s all about teamwork.’
‘Quite,’ said Kemp. ‘Teamwork.’
‘I’m thinking of the department, Maud,’ said Weller, ‘but I’m also thinking of you. I don’t want you to always be seen as stirring things up, as telling your colleagues how to do their jobs.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Maud slowly, who was, in fact, starting to understand. ‘I’m just going to announce that a man has been charged with a murder. That’s all we’re allowed to say, isn’t it?’
‘About that,’ said Weller. ‘I totally want you to be there. I want the whole team to be there. But I think the right thing would be if Danny did the actual presentation.’
Even though she was shocked, Maud felt she should have been more shocked.
‘Do you know the details of the case?’ she asked, as calmly as she could manage.
Kemp laughed.
‘I looked through the file. It was all straightforward really, wasn’t it? Still, we should have a drink some time to celebrate. Get the lads together.’
‘Did you ask Forrester?’ said Maud.
‘Ask him what?’
‘To come to the conference. As part of the team.’
‘No, I didn’t,’ said Weller, frowning. ‘I thought I’d give him the time off. It’s not like there’ll be that many people at a conference late on a Saturday afternoon.’
Maud thought of asking why they were holding it on a Saturday afternoon, but she didn’t because she already knew the answer. Late Saturday afternoon was likely to be too late for the Sunday papers and by Monday it would be a tiny item somewhere inside that nobody would pay attention to. It wasn’t a very glorious case for the department, a murder that had been missed and then solved by the wrong detective. Better just to forget about it.
It wasn’t the first time that Maud had been on the brink of resigning. She could almost taste the words in her mouth. It would be easy, such a relief. She looked at Weller and then Kemp, and she understood that they would not try and make her stay; they would even be pleased. She was a difficult woman, never a pushover, not one of the team of lads. She wouldn’t turn a blind eye.
She waited a few moments, watching them watching her, then swallowed back her bitter words and nodded pleasantly.
‘I won’t be coming to the conference either,’ she said.
Weller’s frown deepened.
‘You don’t think you’ve been given enough credit? That’s not going to look good.’
‘Not at all. I’ve got a date.’
‘A date?’
‘Yes.’
‘Surely that can wait.’
‘You always talk about work-life balance. I’m sure Danny will do it very well. Just remember that Kira Mullan was a woman, not a girl.’