Page 21 of Watching You
‘Never mind the air quality, what we need is proper pay for all the overtime we’re having to put in,’ a uniformed officer commented.
‘I agree, and I’m pleased to be able to tell you that Superintendent Overbeck has confirmed that every hour you spend here will be fully recompensed and there’ll also be a package to make sure you’re offered vacation to make up for the interruption to your home and family time.’ Connie looked across to Overbeck whose lips were pressed so tightly together the muscles in her jaw were visibly quivering.
DS Christie Salter got to her feet. ‘We all appreciate that, ma’am. Both ma’ams. I’m not sure what the plural is.’ Salter allowed a beat for everyone to smile and, just like that, even Overbeck relaxed again. ‘Could I add to your ingredient list an obligation for everyone to wear an additional layer of deodorant as we’ve more bodies than usual in this room?’
‘Done,’ Connie agreed.
‘So what do you need from us in return?’ Salter asked.
Connie could have kissed her. Not that she was afraid to give orders, but being invited to do so always made for a softer landing.
‘Lively will be missing for a few more days, and when he comes back he’ll be restricted to desk duties only. In his absence, DS Salter will be in charge of police operations, and Baarda and I will be heading up intelligence and investigation structure. The superintendent will be overseeing, of course, but given that we’ve just hit the start of the summer, the city will be soon beflooded with tourists and the crime rate will soar. That means we have to maximise the resources we have to resolve these three murders quickly and efficiently.’
The door opened behind Overbeck and a woman pushed in past her. Her hair and clothes were dishevelled, her face was flushed dark and she was breathing as if she’d just run up several flights of stairs.
‘Who’s in charge here?’ she demanded, staring straight at Connie who was the obvious target, front and centre of the room with everyone focused on her.
‘Are you all right, miss?’ Salter asked. ‘Do you need help?’ The woman ignored her.
‘It must be you. You’re the one they’re all looking at.’ She jabbed a finger in Connie’s direction.
‘I’m Dr Connie Woolwine,’ she said. ‘You look distressed. I’d like to help. Shall we find—’
The woman stepped forward, swung her arm back and slapped Connie full force with an open palm. Connie staggered but didn’t fall and turned to face the woman again.
A millisecond of pause followed, then every chair scraped and feet stampeded in an effort to rush forward and grab the offender.
‘No!’ Connie yelled. ‘Stay where you are.’
‘Not in my police station,’ Overbeck overruled her. ‘This is a security threat. How did you get through from the public area?’ she demanded. The woman said nothing. ‘Restrain her and arrest her for assault.’
‘My fault, ma’am. Ever so sorry,’ PC Biddlecombe panted from the corridor. ‘This lady’s your ten a.m. meeting. I only left her alone in your office for a minute, because I was bursting—’
‘Biddlecombe, how the hell have you not been fired yet?’ Overbeck hissed.
‘Could we just take a beat?’ Connie shouted. ‘Biddlecombe, who is this woman?’
‘This is Jane Bass, ma’am. Archie Bass’s sister.’ Biddlecombe’s voice was little more than a mutter, but the import of it carried through the room.
‘Let Ms Bass go, please,’ Connie said. Overbeck didn’t argue and the officers released her and stepped a good distance away. Salter picked up the handbag that had been on Jane Bass’s shoulder and handed it to her gently before stepping silently behind her and pulling the mortuary photo of her brother from the board.
Jane Bass was panting like a bull about to charge, shoulders high, knees slightly bent, chin down to her chest.
‘Slap me again,’ Connie said, so quietly that only those at the front of the room caught it.
‘Don’t even—’
‘Thank you, superintendent, but I don’t need your intervention,’ Connie said, equally quietly. ‘Ms Bass. You’re not going to get in any trouble here today. I’m asking you to put your faith in me and let me help you. Slap me again. It’s all right. You have more than fifty witnesses.’
Jane Bass raised her right hand in front of her face and stared at it as if unsure what it might do. Baarda had moved forward so he was positioned just behind Bass, and was staring intently at Connie.
‘No one else moves,’ Connie said. ‘No one,’ she directed at Baarda. ‘Ms Bass, I promise that if you do as I say, we can make some progress. I know you don’t know me, but I do know quite a lot about what I’m asking from you. Slap me ag—’
The woman didn’t wait for Connie to finish the instruction. The noise of the impact ricocheted off the bare walls like a bullet. Connie’s head turned with the blow, but her feet stayed where she’d planted them. There was a mass intake of breath.
Jane Bass, rigid and trembling, opened her mouth to speak but emitted only a fading squeak. Connie held firm as Archie Bass’s sister tried, and failed, to breathe. Sobs made her chest convulse but wouldn’t exit through her mouth. Her hands were balled into fists as she brought them to either side of her face like a boxer on guard.
Connie extended her arms but did not approach. It took a full minute for Jane to stagger forward, falling into Connie’s embrace, head on her shoulder, letting out a shriek that made every other person in the room look away. They didn’t move until she’d finished crying, and that took time. No one spoke. No one left the room. Connie’s decision to play the confrontation out in front of them all rather than having Jane Bass removed when she had the opportunity to do so was a very clear message: you must all bear witness to this.
