Monday 22 October, 8.20 a.m.
‘Still get in through the door, can you?’
Joanna shot him a baleful glare. ‘Bugger off, Korpanski.’
He simply grinned, knowing he had another jibe up his sleeve. Joanna dropped into her chair and Korpanski took in her outfit with some surprise. ‘You still cycling in, Jo?’
‘It’s the only thing that still makes me feel half human and less a dumper truck.’
He looked dubious. ‘I don’t think I’d have been very keen on Fran cycling through a pregnancy.’
‘I’m not Fran, am I?’
Korpanski opened his mouth to respond but quickly shut it again without asking what Matthew thought about her cycling at this time.
She’d picked up on something. ‘You got something up your sleeve, Korpanski?’
‘Yeah, I have.’
‘Well, spit it out.’
But DS Mike Korpanski was taking his time. He was going to get maximum satisfaction out of this one. ‘Something right in your line.’
‘Go on.’
‘Old man gone AWOL from a residential home.’
Her head whipped round. ‘And you think I should be investigating this, do you?’
He’d picked up on her dangerous tone all right but DS Korpanski enjoyed sailing close to the wind. He nodded, not even trying to suppress a smile.
Detective Inspector Joanna Piercy glared at her detective sergeant. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’
Korpanski didn’t respond to the furious demand as she continued her rant. ‘You really want me to investigate an old man who’s wandered away from a residential home? Mike,’ she appealed, ‘I know I’m pregnant and have the belly of a blue whale and the brain of a flea but, bloody hell, I haven’t sunk that low. Haven’t you got uniforms looking out for him? He can’t have gone far.’
‘The uniforms haven’t come up with anything, Jo.’
‘Well, get them to look harder then. It’s hardly something for us.’
He was grinning at her as he leaned back in his seat, tempted to spin it around, peer into his computer screen and avoid seeing the fire that was burning in her eyes. ‘As he hasn’t turned up so far, Chief Superintendent Gabriel Rush, your favourite CS ever, says we should be asking questions and getting involved.’
‘And you think it’s one for me.’
‘The sooner he’s found, Jo, the sooner we can all get on with some real work.’
He followed that up with, ‘Besides, a nice easy task like this. I thought it’d be right up your street.’
She almost ground her teeth before realizing that was exactly the response he’d been counting on, so modified it to, ‘You,’ she said, finger pointing, ‘are trying your bloody luck, Mike. I don’t even give birth for a couple of months. I can’t do crap like this until then. I’m an inspector, for goodness’ sake. Matthew already wants to wrap me up in cotton wool, ban me from riding my bike. He wants us to spend our time off together looking at prams and cribs and …’ And then it was all too much for her and she dropped her face into her hands, almost sinking her head on to the desk. ‘Mike,’ she appealed again, ‘how on earth am I going to cope with all that? Matthew’s parents simply can’t wait to become acting grandparents though …’ Mercurial as ever, she smothered a grin herself now. ‘I can’t say my mum is quite so keen. In fact, she’s keeping her distance, as is my sister and her pair of brats.’
Korpanski bit back the retort, don’t blame them, contenting himself with a long sigh which could have meant anything and smirked into his computer screen as she continued with her rant.
‘This whole role – it’s not me. I’m not some earth mother.’
He turned around then, studied her face and read only apprehension. And he felt an unexpected wash of sympathy for her misgivings, realizing they were all centred on her doubts about the approaching ‘happy event’. ‘Jo,’ he said, wanting to reassure her, ‘you’ll love it. Take to it like a duck to water. It’s a piece of cake. Nothing to it being a mum. It’ll all come naturally, I promise you.’
She was unconvinced, her doubt failing to melt away but staying, a block of ice inside her heart. ‘I’m not so sure,’ she confessed. ‘Unlike Matthew who just can’t wait to cuddle it. He’s so convinced it’s a boy, Mike, he’s even chosen a name.’
Korpanski chuckled. ‘So what is it?’
Shoulders up in exasperation. ‘He won’t tell me.’
Korpanski smiled. He and his wife had had a pact. He could choose his daughter’s name, Jocelyn, while his wife had chosen their son’s: Richard, who was never ever called anything but Ricky.
‘And just think of his disappointment if it’s another girl.’ She gulped. ‘Another Eloise.’
‘He’ll get used to it.’ And as she still looked unconvinced he added, ‘Well, at least he’s not Henry VIII and won’t be chopping your head off for a child of the wrong sex.’
They both laughed at this and the atmosphere melted while the surrounding officers looked up from their desks and thanked their lucky stars for the way DS Korpanski could deflect their inspector’s growing irritability which was only matched by her increasing girth.
When they’d stopped laughing Mike couldn’t resist tacking on, ‘You can find out the sex of the child before it’s born, you know. You don’t have to wait, Jo. Maybe it’ll take some of the stress out of it?’
‘No, thanks.’ She held up her hand. ‘Heaven forbid. I wouldn’t exactly be enamoured at the thought of another Eloise growing like a tumour inside me.’
Korpanski looked over, dark eyes concerned. ‘I’d keep that particular thought to yourself.’
And even she realized she’d crossed a line. ‘Yeah. You’re right. I guess so. I’ll cross that bridge when I meet it.’
Korpanski rested his large, meaty paw on her shoulder. ‘It’ll all be worth it, Jo, I promise.’
And she nodded, thinking, maybe, maybe not. Too late now.
If Matthew had the son he so fiercely desired, it would be worth it all – the sickness, the nausea, the tiredness, the huge waistline, the horrible clothes and big knickers. It would all be worth it just to see that wondrous look on his face again – the very same look that had lit his face when she had first told him she was pregnant. A look she hadn’t seen since they’d first become lovers – a sort of amazed disbelief at his good fortune. The realization of a dream which was coming true, the fulfilment of his ambition.
Mike brought her back to the present. ‘I tell you, Jo. When you have your baby, be it son or daughter, you will love it more than life itself. They become everything to you. More important than career or ambition or anything else. They become your life. Your future.’
She looked at her sergeant, at his dark eyes and tall, burly form and felt a wave of affection matched only by her interest in these foreign emotions he was describing. ‘You really feel that strongly about Ricky and Jossie?’
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘I do. I’d give my life for them, Jo.’ But even as he spoke the words he sensed the vulnerability this confession exposed, which for a moment knocked him silent and made him thoughtful, dark eyes clouded even at the thought.
‘And you really think I’ll feel like that …’ she rested her hands on her bump, ‘when this child is born?’
He nodded.
‘Matthew already does.’
Korpanski simply nodded again and she held out her hand for the notes she’d spied on his desk. ‘OK, then,’ she said. ‘I give in. Tell me about the case?’
Sensing the storm was now abating, Korpanski tossed the few papers across the desk. ‘Here it is, Inspector Piercy,’ he said, smothering his grin. ‘Old guy with dementia missing from a residential home. We’ve already alerted the local lads but he hasn’t turned up so far. And that’s about it.’
She took the notes from him. Read the top line.
Zachary Foster, age ninety-six, missing some time during the night from Ryland’s Residential Home. Absence noted seven a.m. Suffers from dementia. Stroke two years ago. Speech impaired. She looked up.
‘Hardly a major case,’ she said wryly. ‘How are the mighty fallen.’
And to that even Korpanski couldn’t produce an answer.