Page 20 of Watching You
He followed the couple up the corridor, the man hanging back slightly, staring intently at the woman. If they hadn’t been exchanging the odd sentence, he’d have thought the man was stalking her. The woman was striking and well aware of the fact, tossing her ponytail around and taking long strides to highlight her perfect legs. He felt sorry for the man who was in her thrall. She was teasing him as she walked, preening and peacocking, even slowing down to make physical contact with him, threading her arm through his.
Women wanted all the attention they could get from a man, until they actually got it.
The poor bastard even held the door open for her, standing back to give her plenty of space. She just breezed through without a thought.
He might have made a comment, if it hadn’t given him the perfect opportunity to enter directly behind them as if part of their group.
They were ahead of him now by only a few metres, looking between curtains for whoever they were visiting.
And it seemed the universe wasn’t done with him for the day. The man and woman stepped between curtains to greet a patient. It was only when he got close that he could hear Beth Waterfall’s voice providing them with the details of Lively’s injury.
He raised his hand to his face instinctively, covering the move with a rub of his eyes and turning his face away.
Not before he’d seen Beth perched on the edge of Lively’s bed though. Not before he’d seen her holding one of his hands. Not before he’d realised that the man and woman who’d been walking in front of him were not normal visitors at all, but investigators involved in Lively’s cases.
The sole upside had been Lively’s face, as pale as the white plastic curtains either side of his bed, and his neck wrapped tightly in dressings. His eyes were barely open, and there was more than one bag attached to the drip stand at his side. One for saline, another for painkillers, was his non-medical guess. Lively’s former larger-than-life presence had been diminished to a mere whisper.
That was good. That made him happy. He walked on through A&E not stopping, not speeding up, aware only that he should keep his head down to avoid any cameras and make his way home as soon as possible.
His old-style digital watch was beeping at him, and that meant his father needed him. He had responsibilities to discharge. Playtime was over.
Chapter 19
2 June
They gathered outside the police station, behind the main building, between smokers’ corner and the bike racks. June was proving to be elusive in terms of sunshine, so they huddled in coats and wished the wind would die down. Present were not just the Major Incident Team’s detectives, but civilian support staff, uniformed officers who’d been assigned to the day-to-day tasks murders threw into the standard policing mix, and a couple of senior officers including Detective Superintendent Overbeck. She was the only person completely unaffected by the low temperature. Baarda was at the back of the pack and Connie was waiting inside, delaying her appearance just long enough to make sure she’d have everyone’s attention.
She walked out with the sleeves of her white cotton shirt folded up and her ankles bare between her three-quarter-length jeans and tennis shoes.
‘Due respect, ma’am, this isn’t California. You should maybe go on a continuing professional development course to prepare you for the Scottish weather,’ someone shouted.
‘Does everyone want to stand here while I waste your time being witty and sarcastic to the officer who thinks Scottish weather jokes are still funny?’ There were a few muttered ‘Shut the fuck up’s from the vicinity of the offending idiot. ‘Good. Now you can all come back in. Briefing room please, two minutes, and make sure y’all exhaust your venting on the way. Anyone who doesn’t take me seriously will be filling in for Superintendent Overbeck’s assistant for the next month.’
The immediate silence was gratifying. Every pair of eyes slid towards Overbeck for a response which was nothing more than a nod of quiet touché in Connie’s direction.
Connie held the door open for the herd, who jogged half-heartedly along the corridor and up the two staircases to the briefing room and the board that was separated into three segments, each with a picture of one of the deceased in its centre.
‘Walk with me,’ Overbeck purred at Connie as she went inside. ‘I gather you saw Lively in hospital. Am I losing yet another of my squad or is he salvageable?’
‘The problem isn’t getting him back to work, it’s stopping him,’ Connie said. ‘The surgeon’s concerned about how weak his blood vessels will be for a while. He should really stay on a desk for at least a month after he’s back. He was adamant about discharging himself against medical advice.’
‘The man’s a liability.’ Overbeck sighed. ‘You and your sidekick had better come up with the goods quick-smart.’
Connie flashed her a dazzling smile. ‘My sidekick. Gosh, now I feel like I’m entitled to some sort of cape or maybe a flying car. Hey, I like your nails. That’s quite some signal you’re sending out.’
Overbeck instinctively glanced down at the false nails she kept long and pointed, with a burnished gold polish.
‘It’s called finishing. Apparently, in spite of your impressiveCV and list of accomplishments, that’s not something you concern yourself with.’
‘I really don’t, but that isn’t finishing. As mammals go, we’re pretty underwhelming in terms of physical prowess. Most dangerous animals retract their claws because they’re purely functional. Human females, and a few males, have evolved nail-signalling only relatively recently. Whether you realise it or not, you’re flashing a sign that says I’m a great lover but I also bite; submit or beware. Very much how you present at work.’
‘Kill me now,’ Overbeck muttered.
‘Is that something you think about often? Being killed?’ Connie asked. Overbeck took the depth of breath she reserved exclusively for either screaming or sacking someone. ‘I’m kidding, but that was fun. Note to self – you’re not a fan of self-exploration. Let’s do this.’
She walked into the briefing room and let Overbeck slip inside to lean against the door she closed behind them both. Connie walked to the board, pulled out three sheets of paper from her pocket and, next to each murder victim’s living photo, added an image of them taken at the mortuary.
‘Good morning. I’ve added the above images as a constant reminder to us all of what was done to them and what was taken from them. It’s easier for us to look at living images, but what we need is a visual reference of what death looks like.’ There were some coughs and shuffles, but most people simply looked at the board in silence. Connie gave them all a minute to take it in. ‘Thank you for joining me outside earlier. By now, you should all be feeling a little more alive. This room is overheated, the windows are stuck, and while we try to find the murderers of Dale Abnay, Archie Bass and Divya Singh, I’m banning all egg, fish and cheese products from the room.’ That produced a round of cheers that Connie waved away. ‘It’s not even a joke. I need you all focused and anything that makes this room feel less than fresh and inspiring is stopping you from working effectively. Environment is important. Minimise your sugar intake while you’re here, get outside on your breaks, reignite your brain, shift some blood around your bodies.’
