Pop Goes the Weasel | страница 62

‘How long will this… night work go on for?’

‘Not long, I hope.’

Another evasive answer.

‘Well, I’m happy to help for as long as is necessary, but you know how I feel about it. I hate the idea of Nicola waking up and finding a stranger at her bedside.’

Violet’s voice faltered, her underlying sense of loss suddenly ambushing her. Tony nodded sympathetically, but would never engage on this point. Had he given up on Nicola? Violet strongly suspected he had. Did he have other women? Violet suddenly wasn’t sure and it hurt her.

‘Is it dangerous? What you’re doing?’

A longer pause this time, and then an unnecessarily long reassurance. So it was dangerous. Was she being unfair, hating him for being so cavalier? He was a policeman and had a job to do – she understood that. But couldn’t he have got moved off the front line to something safer? What if something happened to him? Violet’s own husband – useless bastard that he was – had scarpered years ago. He was now living with his second wife and three children in Maidstone and never visited them. If anything happened to Tony, it would just be Nicola and Violet, locked together, waiting and hoping.

Suddenly Violet found herself crossing the room. She laid her hand on Tony’s arm and, softening her tone, said:

‘Well, take care, Tony. Take care of yourself.’

And for once, he seemed to understand. This was a difficult moment for both of them – a shift in the status quo away from intensive care to a more expansive life for Tony – and for once they were in accord.

‘You get on, Tony. Nicola and I will be fine here.’

‘Thank you, Violet.’

Tony left the room to continue his preparations, leaving Violet alone with her daughter. Pulling her lipstick from her handbag, Violet applied it to Nicola’s lips. It cheered her momentarily, but inside her nerves were still jangling. She had a nasty feeling that forces beyond her control were gathering and preparing to shake her world.

As the team congregated in the briefing room, Helen tried to gather her thoughts. She’d never felt so isolated on an investigation before. Charlie was keen to prove herself by nailing McEwan for the murders and Harwood seemed intent on backing her. Her superior did not want to credit Helen’s growing conviction that they were dealing with a serial killer. Harwood was a politician, a protocol copper, and had never encountered this sort of individual before. Helen, because of her history and her training, had. Which is why she had to take the lead, to focus the team’s investigation where it mattered.