Chapter 11
Detective Chief Inspector Lauren Caldwell is still getting the measure of her team. She took over the major crime unit six months ago, following five years on the counter-terrorism unit and numerous lengthy discussions about whether working with one’s significant other was a terrible idea.
‘I know at least ten other couples who work together,’ Fraser responded, after Lauren had presented him with yet another list of pros and cons. ‘Getting it on with other coppers is an occupational hazard.’
‘I’m an occupational hazard, am I?’ Lauren had raised an eyebrow, pretending to take offence. ‘Working together is one thing; the issue is how we’d cope with my being your boss.’
‘If it doesn’t bother me, it shouldn’t bother you.’
‘Will you call me ma’am?’
Fraser had wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously. ‘Only on our days off.’
The prestige of the DCI job had been too good to turn down, so Lauren had set her reservations aside, and, six months in, she thinks it’s working for them.
Domestic squabbles and wedding preparations get left at home; at work, it’s strictly business.
Detective Chief Inspector Lauren Caldwell and Detective -Sergeant Fraser Hogan.
‘Does Nadeeka Prasanna have mental health issues?’ Fraser says now.
They’re in the briefing room, Lauren’s core team gathered around one end of the large oval table.
Fraser has taken off his pale pink tie and his shirt is open at the neck beneath a cashmere sweater.
Both had been gifts from Lauren last Christmas.
Their strict separation of home life and work is helped by the fact that Fraser is really good at his job.
One of the best on the team, in fact. Lauren wouldn’t hesitate to haul Fraser into her office if she had to, but it would sure as hell make for an awkward atmosphere at dinner, so it’s a relief he never gives her cause to.
‘She’s not on any medication,’ Lauren says, ‘and she doesn’t identify as having a disability, but beyond that . . . who knows?’
‘Maybe it’s a wind-up?’ Detective Constable Kenric Fennell is wearing a shiny purple tie that puts Lauren in mind of a chocolate wrapper.
‘Some kind of bet?’ The narrow lines in the hairline just above his ears are freshly shaved, which Lauren supposes is the sort of thing you have time for when you’re in your early twenties and your mum still does your laundry.
Lauren shakes her head. ‘We’re not talking about a bunch of kids here. The impression I got from Nadeeka Prasanna was of an intelligent, educated, professional woman. Whether her partner really has been murdered or not, I think she genuinely believes he has been.’
‘Or she wants us to think he has been.’ DS Matt Draper’s contribution is thrown in casually, but as the oldest detective on major crime – both in age and in service – the respect he commands is automatic.
Fraser looks at him. ‘You think she killed her partner?’
‘Killed him; arranged to have him killed; conspired with him to fabricate a murder that would enable him to disappear.’ He counts off the options on long, slim fingers. ‘Could be a life insurance job.’
‘Excellent theories,’ Lauren says, ‘and ones we mustn’t lose sight of. Kenric, can you look into the alleged victim, James Golding? Find out if he was in debt and if he had any criminal associates.’
‘Will do, ma’am.’
‘Bahnaz?’ Lauren looks around for Detective Constable McDonnell and finds her – as ever – at the back of the group.
‘There’s no record of the murder on the system, but I want a more thorough dive.
Pull up every job that came in during the relevant time parameters and make sure we’re not missing anything because of some kind of technical glitch or recording error.
Also, ask whoever was duty inspector on Monday whether we had any cross-border jobs that day.
I can’t see another force taking unilateral ownership of a murder without telling us, but stranger things have happened. ’
‘I will, ma’am, but it’ll have to be tomorrow?’ Bahnaz pulls an apologetic face. ‘I have to pick up the kids from nursery at twelve?’ Most of Bahnaz’s statements finish with an unspoken question mark, as though she’s unsure of what she’s saying, or how it might land.
‘Of course. You go.’
Lauren catches Kenric rolling his eyes as Bahnaz gets her coat, and she makes a mental note to have a word with him. Frustrating though it may be for the team to pick up the slack, Bahnaz’s request for flexible working was authorized by HR and she shouldn’t be made to feel shit about it.
‘I can look into the cross-border stuff,’ DC Sonya Marston says. ‘I don’t mind staying late if there’s overtime on offer.’ Her hair is so thick it forms a pyramid, the blunt blonde ends parallel with her shoulders.
‘There is – ’ Lauren holds up a hand, anticipating the inevitable reaction ‘ – but there are also limits, so please come to me for authorization before you work late.’
‘Cool. The trainers my youngest wants for Christmas cost two hundred quid, if you can believe it.’ Sonya sighs and her hair bobs up and down. ‘To think they used to be happy with a selection box and a stocking full of tat.’
‘I was lucky if I even got that,’ Matt says.
‘It was a piece of coal in your day, wasn’t it?’ Fraser grins and there’s a ripple of laughter around the room. Lauren resumes the briefing before the rest of the team start chipping in.
‘Nadeeka Prasanna was pulled over for running a red light around fifteen minutes before she arrived home and found the alleged crime scene.’ She pauses. ‘Might be a coincidence, of course.’
‘Or she might have done it deliberately,’ Kenric says, ‘to create an alibi for herself.’
‘Right. Can you track down the two officers who spoke to her and see what they made of her? If their cameras were on, I’d like to see what her body language was like.’
Kenric nods. ‘Are we treating her as a sig wit?’
‘Absolutely. She’ll have all the support we always offer a close relative of a murder victim, but she’ll remain a significant witness until there’s evidence to the contrary.
’ Lauren checks the list in her daybook.
‘Sonya, I’d like background checks on Nadeeka Prasanna, please.
Is she having an affair and wanted Golding out of the way?
Is she set to benefit from a life assurance policy? ’
To the right of her list, Lauren has written table decorations and wedding invites!
!! and the sight of them temporarily throws her.
She and Fraser are getting married the day after Christmas, which had seemed such a romantic day for a wedding but has turned out to be a nightmare in terms of organization.
Lauren is secretly looking forward to being able to concentrate on her still-new job without the background noise of flower arrangements and seating plans.
Shit – seating plans! Lauren makes a surreptitious note in her book.
Maybe she and Fraser can tackle that one this evening.
Will his uncle be okay sitting at the same table as his ex-wife?
They should definitely check. She adds Fraser’s uncle to her list and underlines it, then snaps her focus back to the matter in hand.
‘As I see it, we’re looking at three possibilities. One: Nadeeka Prasanna is mentally unwell or a fantasist, and this murder never happened. Two: Jamie Golding is indeed either dead or missing, and Nadeeka Prasanna is behind it. Or three: it happened exactly the way she says it did.’
‘Then we’re not only investigating a murder without a body.’ Fraser raises his eyebrows. ‘We’re faced with a scene that’s already been forensically cleaned to remove all trace of the crime.’
Lauren nods slowly. Where do they even begin?