After the Fire (Maeve Kerrigan) Read online

  ‘You didn’t say anything to me about it.’

  ‘There was no reason to. We weren’t working together.’ I flicked the edge of the pill strip with my thumb. ‘I thought I was really ill.’

  ‘You don’t look after yourself,’ he said automatically.

  ‘All my own fault,’ I agreed. ‘That and the stress. Oh, and the painkillers I’ve had to take in the last couple of years. Turns out they’re not good for you.’

  ‘Fuck.’ He put his hands over his face and let his head fall back against the sofa. ‘I thought—’

  ‘Sorry.’ I was grinning when he looked back. ‘You can be godfather if you like.’

  ‘To the ulcer.’

  ‘I call it Una.’

  He chuckled, and it was genuine. ‘An ulcer.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I was so sure.’

  ‘Not this time. Thank God. I checked. They checked. No baby on board.’

  ‘It would be one way to get Rob to come back,’ Derwent observed, and I couldn’t quite bring myself to laugh along with him. I concentrated on gathering the things I’d tipped out of my bag, shoving them back in it without particular care.

  ‘You miss him.’ This time it wasn’t a question.

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Why?’

  I sat back on my heels. ‘What do you mean, why? I love him. He left me. It’s been two months since I heard from him and I have no way of contacting him.’ Which was driving me crazy.

  ‘He was bloody lucky he ran away before I found out what he’d done to you.’

  ‘Why, because you’d have beaten him up?’

  ‘Or I’d have told your brother where to find him. I bet he’d have wanted a word.’

  ‘Because of course poor Maeve needs some man or other to come along and make everything better.’ I was shaking, I was so angry. ‘I don’t need someone to rescue me all the time. You don’t get to defend my honour or whatever it is you tell yourself you’d do if you only had the chance.’

  ‘What he did to you—’

  ‘Was nothing,’ I finished.

  ‘He raped you.’

  ‘No. That’s not what happened.’ He had been devastated by the death of a colleague and was seeking comfort. I had been trying to forget about the teenagers who threatened me – something I hadn’t even shared with him. He had been drinking, so he missed the signals that I didn’t want to sleep with him. I had let things go too far before I said as much. I had plenty to feel guilty about, I thought, and I’d have told Rob as much if he’d only waited around to hear it instead of disappearing out of my life. ‘He didn’t rape me.’

  ‘You told me what happened and it was exactly that.’

  I stood up, feeling at too much of a disadvantage when I was looking up at him. Much better to stand so I could glower at him from a height. ‘We were in a relationship. He was entitled to think I wouldn’t reject him.’

  ‘He was entitled to nothing.’ Derwent slammed his fist down on the arm of the sofa. ‘He didn’t have your consent to do what he did. He didn’t ask.’

  ‘He didn’t need specific consent. Was he supposed to ask permission every time? We were living together.’

  ‘Listen to yourself. Do you even hear what you’re saying?’ He took a deep breath, forcing himself to be calm. ‘Being in a relationship doesn’t hand him a golden ticket, Kerrigan. He still needed to know you were willing. And you weren’t.’

  Derwent blurred and I blinked, holding on to my composure because I was too proud to cry.

  ‘He stopped when I told him to.’

  ‘He should never have started. I know you don’t want to think less of him, and I know you don’t want to see yourself as a victim. Christ, I’ve worked enough domestic violence cases to last me a lifetime, I know you don’t want to admit it to yourself.’

  ‘I hadn’t told him anything about what happened to me when I was attacked. I didn’t warn him to be careful with me. I wasn’t honest with him.’ It poured out of me: everything I had to apologise for. Everything I wanted to say to my absent boyfriend, and I was saying it to the wrong person. ‘It was my fault,’ I finished.

  ‘That’s what they all say.’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’ My voice was so cold the words splintered with ice.

  ‘No, you don’t know how to see Rob as anything other than Mr Perfect. Why the hell do you think he ran away? He knew what he did.’

  ‘He left because I let him down. If I could just explain to him—’

  Derwent was shaking his head. ‘He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t owe him anything. I don’t know why you want him back, Kerrigan. He raped you, he lied to you, and then he cheated on you. Do you really imagine the story ends with happy ever after?’

  It was too much, too close to the truth. Too close to what I wouldn’t allow myself to think. Because yes, he had done some things that needed to be forgiven, but I would do that, and more, if it meant I’d get him back.

  When I could speak, I said, ‘You should go.’

  ‘Kerrigan, listen—’

  ‘No. Not any more. You’ve said enough.’

  ‘Yeah, I probably have.’ He was calm, reasonable. He’d said what he wanted to. He’d laid the charges and if I was devastated by the explosion, he didn’t care. The conversation was over; he’d moved on. He looked at his watch and pulled a face. ‘Look, do me a favour. Let me stay here.’

  ‘What? No. Absolutely not.’ I wanted him out of my space, out of my head. No one made me feel as bad as Derwent, ever. No one made me question myself like he did, and it was the fact that I liked him when he wasn’t picking me apart, that I trusted him when he wasn’t undermining me, that I wanted his approval even when I told myself his opinion was worthless. I tried not to think about what he’d said but I’d heard it, and I knew the words were branded on my memory, a permanent scar.

  ‘On the sofa, I mean.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Come on. Please.’

  ‘If this is more of your hero complex coming out—’ I began.

  ‘It’s not for your sake. I mean, I don’t mind keeping an eye on you. But that’s not the issue.’

  ‘Why, then?’

  ‘It’s late. I’m tired. I don’t have anywhere to go except a hotel, and I just want to get some sleep.’ He stretched, wincing.

  ‘You have a flat,’ I pointed out. ‘Why can’t you go there?’

  ‘I’m not living there at the moment.’

  I blinked. ‘You live alone. Did you have a fight and kick yourself out?’

  ‘Not quite. I’m letting Melissa Pell’s mother stay there with Thomas.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘She wanted to stay somewhere in London so they could be near Melissa. She had nowhere else to go. They couldn’t afford a hotel. She was going to have to take the kid away otherwise.’

  ‘That’s awfully nice of you.’

  ‘Isn’t it,’ he said, in a tone that indicated the subject was closed. I wished I could manage that. ‘So can I stay?’

  My absolute outrage had faded to a dull ache and I was honestly too tired to argue with him any more, especially when even I had to admit it wasn’t his fault the love of my life had disappeared.

  ‘No more lectures.’

  He grinned, knowing he’d won. ‘Fine. Not a word.’

  ‘You can stay. There’s a bed in the spare room.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Don’t thank me. You’ve done the same for me.’

  ‘And more,’ Derwent said, ruining it. He stood up and was suddenly too close to me. It came as a surprise to me that he was taller than me when I wasn’t wearing shoes. I stepped back and turned away, heading for the door of my bedroom and peace. Derwent crossed the room to turn the television off. Before he did, he said, ‘Anyway, I like to think this will annoy your little buddy Swain.’

  I smiled in spite of myself. ‘Why do you think I said yes?’

  Chapter 18

  I WOKE
UP, groggy and confused, to the sound of thumping dance music. It was dark outside and I scrabbled for my watch: half past six. I presumed that was morning. I also presumed it was Saturday: the weekend, but still a working day to those of us who were handling the Murchison House fire. There would be time off after a few days, when the initial heat of the investigation had cooled like the fire itself. I put a hand to my face, rubbing the sleep away. There hadn’t been much sleep: if tossing and turning was an Olympic sport I’d been putting in enough practice to have a decent shot at making the team. Derwent’s words kept repeating, along with my absolute inability to counter them with anything meaningful. I felt I’d let Rob down, and myself. I wasn’t in denial. It was more complicated than Derwent could know. He hadn’t been there when everything had fallen apart.

  But he had picked up the pieces of me that were left behind.

  And the only reason he had to make me feel bad about it was because he cared.

  Or, I reminded myself, climbing out of bed to see what was going on, because he enjoyed making people suffer for their mistakes.

  I dragged on a dressing gown and pushed open the bedroom door, squinting against the bright light.

  ‘Bloody hell, Kerrigan, you look rough.’

  ‘I could say the same to you,’ I snapped. Derwent was prowling around the living room in pants and a vest, to my complete lack of pleasure, and indeed surprise. ‘Can you put some clothes on?’

  ‘None to put on. Everything clean is in the car. You’re going to go and get it for me when you’re dressed.’

  ‘Brilliant.’

  ‘You’re not a morning person, are you?’

  ‘How did you guess?’ I dragged myself into the kitchen, ostentatiously avoiding Derwent, and filled the kettle, more out of habit than anything else. I generally didn’t manage more than a couple of mouthfuls of tea these days. As I set it down to switch it on, he came up behind me and braced his hands against the counter on either side of me, trapping me. I stiffened, outraged, and turned to find his face inches from mine. The music was loud enough that I didn’t have to whisper. The neighbours would be livid. But not as livid as I was.

  ‘What the actual fuck are you doing?’

  ‘You have to assume Swain has video. He did the last time.’

  ‘He did then, yes, but he doesn’t now.’

  ‘Okay.’ He pushed himself back and looked down at me with a mocking smile.

  ‘Don’t do that again.’ I said, unnerved.

  ‘I wasn’t trying to upset you.’

  ‘I’m not upset.’

  ‘I didn’t touch you.’

  ‘I know. I just like my personal space.’

  ‘Sorry.’ He patted my head in a fraternal, wholly irritating way. ‘You know I wasn’t trying it on. You’re not my type. No offence,’ he added.

  ‘Believe me, I’m perfectly aware of your type, and I’m quite happy not to be that kind of girl.’ I frowned at him. ‘What were you doing?’

  ‘I was trying to make him jealous.’

  ‘Just being in the flat overnight is enough.’ I leaned past him to get a mug and a teabag.

  ‘He might be watching. It’s not convincing if I don’t come near you.’

  ‘There’s absolutely no need. Rob and I picked this place because there’s no view. No windows overlook us on this side. He can’t see in and he doesn’t have any hidden cameras.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘I got Kev Cox to come round and look for anything that shouldn’t be here. Cameras are hard to hide. If there was something here, he’d have found it.’

  ‘But you think he has sound.’

  ‘I know he does. There are things he knows that he must have heard. Conversations I’ve had.’

  ‘On the phone?’

  ‘In person.’

  ‘Just here in the flat?’

  ‘Everywhere.’ I shivered. ‘I know he’s listening to me but I don’t know how.’

  Derwent considered it. ‘I’ll factor it in.’

  ‘To what?’

  ‘My plan.’

  ‘What plan?’

  ‘The one I’m formulating. Don’t worry.’ He smirked at me. ‘I’ll tell you everything you need to know when you need to know it.’

  ‘Sorry, who invited you to be involved?’

  ‘You obviously need help.’

  ‘I think not,’ I said stiffly, pouring water into my mug and stabbing the teabag with a spoon to force the flavour out, too impatient to wait for it to steep.

  ‘Don’t worry. It’ll still be risky as hell and you’ll still be bait.’ He tilted his head, considering me. ‘I know you love danger.’

  ‘That’s not true.’

  ‘I bet it felt good to beat that guy up last night. I bet you got a kick out of it.’ He picked up my hand and examined the bruising across my knuckles from my fight with Mr Blue Shirt. ‘You got the better of him. Didn’t that give you a thrill?’

  ‘Not getting hurt gave me a thrill,’ I said, yanking my hand away to pour milk into the mug. ‘Not having to explain my actions to response officers made me happy. Other than that—’

  ‘Bullshit. You have a competitive streak a mile wide. Look at your hit rate for solving crimes. That doesn’t happen by accident. You love to win.’

  ‘Not me.’ I shook my head. ‘It’s too early in the morning for this.’

  ‘And that.’ Derwent hooked the mug out of my hand. ‘It’ll just make you throw up. Have some water instead.’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ I said with real disgust. ‘It’s bad enough that you’re in my flat. Now I have to get permission for everything I eat and drink?’

  ‘I don’t like sick.’ He took the mug over to the sofa and sat down, sprawling across it. ‘Want to hear the plan for the day?’

  I was hunting through cupboards, trying to find something to eat for breakfast. ‘Yep.’

  ‘We’re going to the hospital to see Melissa Pell.’

  I slammed a door shut and stared at him. ‘Are you out of your mind?’

  He shrugged. ‘Possibly. What’s the problem with interviewing Melissa?’

  ‘Um, off the top of my head, the fact that Una Burt will have a rage stroke if she finds out. It’s not our case. She’s not dead, for starters.’

  ‘But other people are, and someone tried to kill her.’ Derwent clicked his tongue. ‘Come on, Kerrigan. Be more creative. She’s a definite lead on the whole arson. Someone deliberately targeted her. Someone went out of their way to harm her. She was bashed over the head.’

  ‘So was Armstrong, and he’s the person we’re supposed to be investigating.’

  ‘I don’t care about Armstrong.’

  ‘I know that,’ I said patiently. ‘But DCI Burt does.’

  ‘You know how much that matters to me.’

  ‘Yeah, and it’s moronic. Why are you giving her an opportunity to make you look bad?’

  ‘That’s not what I’m doing.’

  ‘Oh really? You know she wants you to step out of line so she can get rid of you. Just wandering over to someone else’s investigation and getting involved is exactly the kind of thing she’d mind. And you know, she’d be right.’

  Derwent was looking increasingly disapproving. ‘Kerrigan,’ he snapped, and it sounded like a whip cracking.

  ‘It’s stupid and reckless to load the gun and hand it to her. There are leads to chase up for Armstrong – people we need to talk to. Let’s do that and get it out of the way. Then you can concentrate on Melissa Pell. Assuming Chris Pettifer doesn’t mind.’

  ‘He doesn’t get to mind. He doesn’t outrank me.’

  ‘Oh sure. Pull rank. That never gets people’s backs up.’

  ‘I don’t have to care, though.’

  ‘Yes, we all know you don’t care what anyone thinks of you.’ I’d picked up my phone and was listening to my voicemail, to the calls I’d missed the night before. ‘Huh.’

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘Elaine Lister wants us to come t
o Armstrong’s office. She’s got some things she wants to show us.’ I listened to the low voice, and to her slightly stuttering delivery. She sounded unsure of herself. ‘She says she misled us yesterday about some things. Unintentionally,’ I added.

  ‘She must have lied about something and she thinks we’ll find out about it some other way. Or she wants to complain to us about John Grey without him being around. I don’t think there’s much love between those two. It won’t be important.’

  ‘Possibly not, but we should go and talk to her.’

  ‘You could do that on your own,’ Derwent said. ‘You don’t need me.’

  I held up a finger, listening to the next message. ‘Una Burt wants me to let her know where you are and what you’re doing, and don’t think I’m going to lie for you. You’re coming with me.’

  Derwent closed his eyes briefly. ‘There’s no escape, is there?’

  ‘Sorry. Other people want Armstrong’s death to be solved, even if you don’t care about what happened to him.’ I spun my phone on the counter top. ‘I was thinking I should speak to Claudine Cole in person. If I go to her flat, I might spot someone who answers the description of the woman who was with Armstrong.’

  ‘Knowing you,’ Derwent said, ‘you’ll run into his murderer as soon as you set foot on the Maudling Estate.’

  ‘That’s me. Lucky.’ I gave him a tight little smile.

  ‘Can’t have it both ways, Kerrigan. You’re shit-hot at your job and ambitious, or you wander around tripping over killers.’ Derwent’s eyes were bright. ‘You’re never going to get promoted if you don’t shout about your achievements.’

  ‘I’m not like that.’

  ‘Then get like that. Being modest is going to get you left behind.’

  I shook my head, irritated. ‘Anyway, don’t you want me to find Armstrong’s killer? If his murder is solved, you’ll be free to pursue Melissa Pell.’

  Derwent frowned. ‘Pursue her attacker.’

  ‘Obviously. That’s what I meant.’

  ‘Kerrigan,’ he began, pained, and I cut him off.