Relentless (36 page)

almost certainly dead. As for Mr W himself, his card's marked.
He won't get away with it for ever.'
'Well,' she said, lighting a cigarette, 'our Lord Chief Justice
certainly deserved what he got, the bastard. He ruined a lot of
lives, but at least John can rest in peace now.'
Bolt nodded. He agreed with her. 'There's only one mystery
left,' he said, taking another sip from the coffee.
'What's that?' she asked.
'Who sent the email to Parnham-Jones a week or so before he
died? The one saying they had all the details on his crimes?'
They looked at each other for a long moment. Tina held
his gaze, giving nothing away, the expression behind her eyes
impossible to read. Then she let slip a small smile that managed
to be both confident and vulnerable at the same time.
'You know I sent it, don't you?'
'I've thought about it a lot,' Bolt said, giving her a small smile
of his own to show that he understood what she'd been through
and why she'd done it, 'and I couldn't work out who else it could
have been.'
She sighed and dragged on the cigarette. 'The problem was, I
thought he'd got away with everything. And I suppose at the
time, he had. I just wanted to make him suffer some of what I
was suffering. I only ever sent him that one mail, and I realized
afterwards how stupid I'd been, and what a risk I was taking. Is
it likely to be traced back to me?'
'Where did you send it from?'
'An internet cafe from a hotmail account I'd set up.'
'I talked to the guy who was looking into it a couple of days
ago,' said Bolt, recalling a conversation he'd had with Matt
Turner, 'and he hadn't turned up anything. So I think it's very
unlikely.'

'Good. Not that I regret sending it. He deserved it. I just wish
I'd thought of something more effective.'
'You didn't have to in the end, did you?'
'I suppose not.' She stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray
and eyed him carefully. This'U be our secret, though, yes?'
'Scout's honour.' Bolt made the sign. 'But that's not the only
reason I came here.'
She looked wary. 'So, what else is there? Anything I should be
worried about?'
'Maybe,' he said, but once again he was smiling. 'I've come to
offer you a job.'
'You're joking, aren't you? I'm not even on the force any
more.'
'No, I'm not joking. I'm very short on numbers for my team,
and I know that you'd be welcomed back at any time. Your
record's excellent, and you're the sort of person I need. A
fighter.'
'You're serious, aren't you?'
'Absolutely.'
She brushed a hand through her hair. 'It's an interesting offer.
But aren't the NCS going to be disbanded next year?'
'That's next year. Come on, you know you belong with us.'
'I'll give it some thought, OK? But I don't want to make an
on-the-spot decision. You understand that, don't you?'
'Sure,' he said, feeling vaguely disappointed.
The reason he wanted her on the team wasn't just because she
was a good copper. When he'd first met her three weeks ago,
she'd seemed vulnerable and in need of comfort. He'd responded
to her pain, perhaps seeing something of himself in her. But he
realized afterwards that he was also attracted to her. Seeing
her now, tanned and pretty, only accentuated those feelings.

He stood up, trying to brush off the disappointment, although
with only limited success. 'You've got my number, haven't you?
Let me know when you can.'
She nodded. 'I appreciate the offer. I'll tell you by the end of
the week.'
They shook hands and said their goodbyes. Bolt left a couple
of pound coins on the table for his coffee and walked out into
the street. The sky was a faded blue, and the sun shone amid the
long, crooked fingers of cloud.
The disappointment faded. It was time to move on.

Ml
Author's Note

Some astute readers will notice that I've taken a few liberties
with the village of Hambleden in order to further the plot. For
instance, there's no phone box in the village square anymore,
and no such place as Rangers Hill. However, the pub's real
enough, and it serves good beer, too.