Daniels’ mobile bleeped.
A text from Bright: Any chance you can swing by?
She sighed. That was all she needed.
It took her around half an hour to reach his home. She patted his arm as she walked past him into the house. Stella was asleep in her wheelchair by the fire, wrapped up warm and cosy with a blanket over her knees. No hint of any major crisis here. And yet the guv’nor’s grave expression told a different story.
Daniels had known for a while that her boss was a man under immense pressure. But tonight he looked ill and smelled strongly of alcohol.
He sat down, inviting her to do the same. ‘She practically begged me, Kate.’ He was losing his composure in a way she hadn’t thought possible. Until now. ‘I was getting her ready for bed, the usual routine: bath, teeth, she likes me to brush her hair . . . Then I realized the time and reached for her medication. She takes two pills at night, so I gave her them and water to wash it down with. Next thing I know she grabs my arm, her eyes pleading with me. I tell you, it bloody near finished me. You want a drink or something?’
‘No thanks, guv . . .’ Daniels glanced at Stella. ‘She’s bound to have good and bad days. She’ll think differently tomorrow.’
‘And if she doesn’t?’
Stella seemed to be in a deep sleep, totally unaware of their conversation. But was she? Daniels’ mother would sometimes repeat things uttered when she’d appeared to be at rest. God forbid the woman could hear them.
‘You put her to bed . . .’ Daniels said. ‘I’ll make us a coffee.’
The mess on the stove was the least of her worries when she entered the kitchen. It was the room of an obsessive: like walking into a ‘live’ incident room. Case notes and jottings were spread out across the kitchen bench, crime-scene photographs pinned to cupboard doors. Some were close-ups like the one she’d seen in his office – just a child’s innocent face – others were more grotesque: wide-angled shots showing the boy lying in the rubbish skip, an arm and a leg twisted unnaturally beneath his body.
He’d obviously been tossed in after death.
Daniels’ heart sank.
This explained the media frenzy, an outcry for police to throw every resource at the case and bring the killer to justice quickly to protect the region’s children. What must the dead child’s parents be going through? Was it any wonder Bright looked so ill? Combined with a difficult home life, this level-one case might tip him over the edge. It surely would if he insisted on shadowing her own murder enquiry as he had done up to now.
Scooping everything up, she dumped the lot in his old briefcase, which was lying open on the grubby tiled floor. Fifteen minutes later, wiping her hands on a tea towel, she surveyed a spotless kitchen. She poured Bright’s now cold coffee down the sink and went upstairs in search of him, half expecting to find him curled up in bed with his wife, exhausted from his ordeal and the Jack Daniels he’d downed in order to cope with it. She found him sitting on a pink nursing chair at the bottom of the bed, just staring at Stella.
He heard her approach, got up and joined her on the threshold.
‘I’ve got to go . . .’ Daniels said. ‘You going to be all right, guv?’
‘She’s going to be fine.’
‘I was talking about you,’ Daniels said quietly, searching his tired face.
Bright just looked at her. Gone was the bolshie bastard she worked with and looked up to. In his place was a sad, lonely man whose married life had been cut short, a man who inspired her to do her very best. Daniels hated seeing him like this and hoped he’d get back on track eventually. What other choice did he have?
She pulled on her coat. ‘It wasn’t your fault, guv.’
Bright swallowed hard. Clearly he thought it was. ‘You take care, Kate. Remember, one minute you’re on a high, next you’re on your arse.’
Wasn’t that the truth. ‘Give it time, it’s early days.’
Bright looked at her deeply, his bottom lip quivering as he glanced back at his sleeping wife. ‘Stay, Kate . . . just for tonight.’
Daniels took a deep breath, momentarily wrong-footed. Christ almighty. Now she knew he was losing it. She gave him an awkward hug, patting him on the back.
‘Look after her, guv.’
She turned away . . .