DCI Lowe is not best pleased to see me in his office at nine the following morning. There are only two reasons for someone like me to request an audience with a senior officer. The first is to discuss career progression, but we both know I blew mine six months ago at Exeter Crown Court. The other is to make a complaint against a colleague.
I thought about what Liam had said about not letting Holt off the hook, changed my mind a dozen times and then decided I had to say something, even if I was wrong. There is no explanation for the cigarette and while I accept Cheryl wasn’t the most reliable of people, there is enough doubt for us to consider the worst: someone murdered Cheryl Black. If Holt isn’t going to listen to me then maybe his superior officer will.
To his credit, Lowe hears me out as I relay the events of yesterday morning.
‘As far as I’m concerned as the crime scene manager, there was enough for this to be considered a suspicious death and yet Holt still refused to come out.’
‘Acting DS Shirwell was there.’
‘Acting DS Shirwell admitted to me that she’d never attended a fire death before. In fact, this is only the second death she’s ever been to. She wasn’t in a position to call this.’
‘I understand you still examined the scene as if it were a suspicious death.’
This isn’t going to plan. He’s questioning my professional conduct here, not Holt’s.
‘Yes, in my view, that was the correct course to take.’
‘Even though acting DS Shirwell told you she was writing it up as accidental.’
Strictly speaking, police officers can’t order civilian CSIs around like they can each other but going against their decision is dangerous territory and a fast track to making enemies.
‘Yes. There were inconsistencies that led me to suspect possible foul play.’
‘And what were these inconsistencies?’
‘The fire that killed Cheryl was started by a cigarette, but it couldn’t have been hers. She gave up smoking months ago. It was a big deal to her. She said she was going to use the money she saved for a holiday. She even showed me how much she’d already saved and joked she’d become addicted to vaping.’ Like I said, people tell you all sorts in this job. ‘She was also being terrorized by her neighbours, putting dog shit through her letterbox, that kind of thing. I believed that was enough for us to do a more thorough examination.’
‘But there’s no evidence of anyone else being involved in her death apart from this vague nonsense about her smoking habits.’
‘It isn’t nonsense. The cigarette didn’t belong to Cheryl. It belonged to someone else who she appears to have known because she let them in.’
‘You’re putting too much store in this Cheryl woman. The sad truth is she was a paranoid alcoholic, given to calling the paramedics out on any pretext including having a heart attack.
‘Yes, but—’
‘She was on medication for just about everything, including self-medicating with a bottle of vodka every day, from what the paramedics told Shirwell.’
‘Yes. I know.’
‘And in among all of this she decides to give up the fags for the sake of her health. Have you any idea how ridiculous that sounds?’
‘Yes, I do, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t true. In my professional judgement…’
‘This isn’t about your professional judgement, though, is it? This is about you having it in for Holt.’
‘No, it isn’t.’
‘You’re here to make an official complaint against Holt, though, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, but it isn’t personal. I’ve nothing against Holt other than I believe he was wrong about Janie Warren and he’s wrong about Cheryl Black.’
Lowe shakes his head.
‘Drop it, Ally. You’re way off the mark on this. I get it. Really I do and I sympathize.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘You were on Major Investigations for six years. Your work was exemplary and then suddenly you’re kicked off and you find yourself in a backwater like Bidecombe doing crappy little shed break-ins. No one would blame you for being bitter. I wouldn’t even blame you for wanting to get your own back but going after Bob Holt is not the way to do it.’
‘You think this is about revenge? Jesus, Steve, I don’t give a shit about Major Investigations. I’m trying to get justice for Janie and Cheryl. I’m just doing my job. All I’m asking is for others to do theirs.’
‘I’m not putting this on record and if you go higher I warn you there’s every chance Bob will bring a counter claim against you and – let’s be honest – you have a reputation for being difficult and there’s plenty round here would like to see the back of you.’
‘But—’
‘No buts. For your own sake, drop this.’
He returns to his computer screen, signalling our meeting is over. There’s nothing more I can do for poor Cheryl, dismissed in life and now dismissed in death.
* * *
‘Si, sit here. Guess what?’
Trisha beckons him over. He has no choice but to collect his coffee from the counter and join her. They’re in the hospital canteen, grabbing breakfast before the start of their shift. Trisha is already tucking into a fried breakfast. The state of her arteries.
As it happens, he can probably guess the answer to her question. The smirk on her face tells him it’s likely to do with men. She thinks of nothing else, apart from food, and she devours both with equal enthusiasm.
‘I met someone.’ He says nothing: he doesn’t care. He has more important things to think about. Somehow, he needs to get rid of Trisha this afternoon – just for an hour. That should be enough. ‘This guy is a real gentleman. No dick pics, no messing around, just a nice bloke. We’re going to meet up.’
He’s hardly listening to her, but that’s the thing with Trisha, it doesn’t matter if you’re interested in what she has to say or not, she’ll say it anyway. He gives in. Just to be polite.
‘So, what’s his name?’
‘Snakebite1988.’
‘Snakebite1988?’
‘Yeah, we met on OkCupid a couple of months ago. I thought we were getting on really well, but he went quiet on me. Then I got back last night to find a message from him.’
‘What about the fireman? I thought you were keen on him.’
‘The bastard never called.’
‘So, what’s this chap’s real name?’
‘Dunno. I’ll find out tonight.’
She’s so desperate, she’ll go out with someone she doesn’t even know the name of. She deserves everything she gets.
‘But he could be anybody.’
Trisha is mid-chomp, but that doesn’t stop her talking and she flashes him a mouthful of bacon rind. It takes all his strength not to gag.
‘I know. I’m not stupid. He’s taking me to the Crown tonight for a meal. Right posh. There’ll be plenty of people around.’
‘The Crown is really nice. You’ll want to wear something new, of course. You want to create the right impression.’
Trisha pauses as she sweeps a slice of bread around her plate.
‘You know, you’re right.’ She frowns at her plate. ‘But my shift doesn’t finish till six. We only get a half-hour lunch. I’ve no time to get to the shops.’
He knows this, of course, but he uses a few seconds to think of a solution, even though he already has it.
‘Why don’t you take an extended lunch break?’
She folds the bread smeared with beans and ketchup in two and takes a chunk off the corner.
‘I can’t.’ He knows this too. Trisha’s already had too much time off. ‘I’ve got no time owing. Colin would say no, if I asked.’
He leans over the table, trying not to blanch at the wafts of eggy breath coming from Trisha.
‘Then don’t ask. I can drop you off at the end of the high street and pick you up, say two hours later. That should be enough time. Take your radio. If dispatch calls, I can come and get you.’
She thinks it through for a few seconds.
‘Would you do that for me?’
‘Of course. You’re a mate, aren’t you?’
He hates the word mate. It’s for copulating dogs, not people, but Trisha uses it all the time.
‘Thanks, Simon. That’s really sweet of you. I owe you.’
‘No problem and go for yellow. Yellow really suits you.’
‘Yellow doesn’t suit anyone.’
‘Well, you’re the exception, then.’
‘Really, I always think I look like a great big zit, one of those whiteheads.’
He gives her his best ‘don’t be ridiculous’ expression.
‘Not at all, it brings out your complexion.’
‘Thanks.’
‘I’ll tell you what. You finish your breakfast. Take your time. I’ll go and do the vehicle checks.’
‘Blimey. What did I do to deserve you?’
‘You’d do the same for me, I’m sure. And remember, this is just between us. If Colin finds out, he’ll go bananas.’
‘’Course. I’m not that stupid.’
The thing is, she is.