Dying to Know (A Detective Inspector Berenice Killick Mystery) (36 page)

Mary
was frowning at her. ‘Sorry, Boss, I’m lost. Are the chaos people the same as the black ones?’

Berenice
gave a brief smile. ‘Or, to put it another way - he’s a racist jerk.’ Her eyes suddenly welled with tears. Mary leaned across the table in concern.

‘Bernie
– ’ Mary took hold of her hand. ‘Babe… ’

Berenice
shook her head. ‘Oh, it ain’t nothing.’ She looked up at her. ‘All my life, right, I’ve wanted this. I love the Job, you know I do. All that flack, from my mates, what you go wanting to join Babylon for, from my Uncle, “what kind of daughter are you, can’t you see your Mam needs you” – and I turned my back on all of it. I always knew I’d do this. And now…’ She dabbed tears from her eyes. ‘And it’s not even that he’s a jerk. It’s that he’s wrong.’

‘He
is?’

‘I’ve
been thinking about this. He can round up Clem Voake, but I’m not sure that’ll solve anything.’

‘But
– all the evidence so far…’

Berenice
traced a coffee ring on the table in front of her. She sighed. ‘Maybe. Maybe I’m just going crazy. That book. That old physics stuff. About the gaps and the nothing and all that… There’s something about it…’

‘That’s
the chaos bit, then?’

Berenice
nodded.

Mary
sipped her coffee. ‘It’s shit, life, innit. All this and cystitis too.’

‘What?’
Berenice looked blank.

Mary
smiled. ‘It went, then?’

‘Oh.
Yeah. Seems to have.’

‘Proves
you can only have one thing go wrong at a time.’

‘Is
that your philosophy, then?’

Mary
shrugged. ‘If I have to have one, Boss, then, yeah.’

Berenice
looked at her phone. ‘I’m still on a shift, technically. Though God knows what I’m going to do.’ She got to her feet. ‘The boys from the Met can track down Voake and he’ll admit to it all, and I can go back to traffic offences.’

‘All
that paperwork you can catch up on, Boss.’

Berenice
didn’t smile. ‘If that’s a joke - ’

Mary
had focused across the canteen, as Ben approached.

‘Ma’am
– there’s someone downstairs asking for you. The Chief tried to talk to him, but he said he’d only talk to you. The vicar, you know, Rev Meyrick.’

‘Ah
well.’ Berenice reached for her coat. ‘Maybe he’s applying for a parking permit.’

Helen paced the living room, her phone in her hand. She stopped by the window, gazed out on to the drive, the hedge, the bright blue strip of sea beyond. Then she clicked on Liam’s number.

‘Hi
– ’

‘Oh,’
he breathed. ‘You. I was going to call – ’

‘I’ve
been meaning to call you all morning,’ she said. ‘I want to go to the caravan, Lisa’s place, I feel we should be doing more to help her…’

‘Oh.’
He said nothing else.

‘Are
you all right?’ she said.

‘It’s
all going off here,’ he said.

He
was there, of course. Far away, surrounded by colleagues, computer screens, a click away from action, power points, particle collisions - what on earth made me think he’d be pleased to hear from me…

I
can ring you later, she was about to say, but then he was talking again.

‘Iain’s
dead.’

‘What?’

‘Hank’s Tower again. Same day as our huge press announcement, the director’s fuming… paradigm-shifting discoveries of the behaviour of B mesons, if that’s what they are…’

‘Iain,’
she said.

‘I
don’t think I can bear it. My sister’s telling me to get out, go into hiding, it just feels so weird. When did being a science nerd get to be a high-risk profession?’

She
couldn’t think of anything to say.

‘Richard’s
talking to the police about upping our security. Personal bodyguard stuff… Any of us could be next.’

She
was aware she was gripping the phone tight against her ear. ‘Yes,’ she breathed. ‘Please – please be careful…’

‘Lisa,’
he said. ‘Visiting her?’

‘I
thought – ’ she began. ‘I thought we might…’

She
heard his distance. ‘I mean,’ she went on, unable to stop herself, ‘just to see if she’s OK…’

‘Helen
- ’

‘What?’

‘It’s stopped being fun,’ he said.

She
took a deep breath. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I can see that.’

His
voice sounded faint. ‘You don’t know what it’s like here… police everywhere… we’re in shock. The secretaries all weeping…’

‘Right.’

‘I’ll call you later,’ he said.

‘Will
you?’ she said.

‘Of
course,’ he said, but his voice was thin, the off-click of his phone too loud.

The
room seemed cold. She stood, her phone in her hand, her throat tight with shock, with tearfulness.

Another
death. Hank’s Tower. Iain. Of course he wouldn’t want to see me.

I
don’t know what to do, she thought. I could call Anton, she thought. But no, he’s the last person I should call, he’d just commiserate about the need to stray, ‘oh Hon, it gets to us all in the end…’ ‘But I’ve made a complete fool of myself,’ I’ll wail to him, and all he’ll say is, join the club…

She
went to the fireplace, gazed at herself in the mirror that hung above the mantelpiece.

I’m
on my own, then.

Her
reflection gazed back at her.

Was
it really about Lisa? Or was it just an excuse to see him, to have some kind of stupid adventure?

She
turned away from the mirror, trying to keep at bay a convulsion of desire, of need, of the memory of their bodies intertwined.

She
found her coat. She looked at the car keys in the palm of her hand.

Chad
would tell me not to go. Chad would say, three physicists dead – it’s not a game.

She
thought about Lisa, standing, bleeding, on her doorstep.

I
have no choice, she thought.

‘
I
have
no
choice
.
’
Amelia
,
standing
in
the
empty
parlour
,
spoke
the
words
out
loud
.

She
crossed
the
room
,
ran
through
the
hall
,
out
to
the
kitchen
,
arriving
breathless
in
Gabriel’s
workshop
.

He
looked
up
with
that
now
familiar
expression
,
a
frown
of
irritation
,
a
distant
,
distracted
look
.

‘
Our
child
is
still
unwell
,
’
she
said
.

‘
Worse
since
this
morning
?
’
He
returned
to
his
machine
,
his
fingers
tracing
the
line
of
light
across
the
bench
.

‘
No
,
’
she
conceded
. ‘
But
she’s
listless
,
and
sleepy
.
’

‘
Dr
Keppler
said
we
were
doing
all
the
right
things
.
’

‘
What
if
it’s
not
a
chill
?
’
Her
voice
was
fierce
.

He
glanced
up
at
her
. ‘
Do
we
have
any
reason
not
to
believe
Dr
.
Keppler
?
’

I
have
no
choice
.
The
words
kept
a
pulse
with
her
heartbeat
.

‘
Gabriel
-
’

‘
What
is
it
?
’

‘
She
cannot
thrive
.
’

Again
,
the
absent
frown
.
He
checked
his
notes
.

‘
My
brother
,
’
she
began
. ‘
We
–
we
miss
him
so
.
Guy
…
’

‘
Guy
.
’
Gabriel
breathed
the
name
. ‘
Yes
,
’
he
said
. ‘
We
miss
him
so
.
’

‘
If
he
were
here
…
’

‘
He
would
have
known
.
This
,
for
example
,
this
trace
here
…
It
seems
to
have
no
mass
.
’
He
was
talking
to
himself
,
fingering
a
punched
print
-
out
that
unfurled
from
the
machine
. ‘
I
would
ask
him
,
how
can
these
charges
,
A
and
B
and
C
,
how
can
they
add
up
to
more
than
their
sum
…
’

‘
Gabriel
-
’

He
looked
up
at
her
tone
.

‘
That’s
not
what
I
meant
.
’

‘
And
what
did
you
mean
?
’
He
leaned
on
the
bench
,
waiting
.