Picture You Dead

20

Wednesday, 25 September

During Cassian Pewe’s tenure as Assistant Chief Constable, standing outside his door had always sent Roy Grace time-travelling back to his school days where, for one misdemeanour or another – mostly being argumentative with those teachers who made their subjects crashingly dull – he was a frequent flier to the headmaster’s office.

A somewhat fierce man, with a short temper and the arrogance of a hardened old lag, Reginald Bute showed very early on that he did not see eye to eye with young Roy Grace, and made that very clear in his school reports. He has a lot to learn if he wishes to follow in his father’s footsteps in the police force. At present he is on course for a career in manual labour or menial jobs, he had written in one.

Reginald Bute’s door had looked very similar to the door to the ACC’s office, and with each ACC who had been his boss, he felt the same nervousness waiting for the call to enter. But not today. And this time there was no bellow from the room. The door was opened calmly by the new ACC, smiling warmly at him.

Hannah Robinson was a little shorter than Grace, neat and elegant in her uniform white shirt, epaulettes and black-and-white-chequered cravat. Her brown hair was clipped up into a small bun that looked both retro and modern at the same time. ‘Roy,’ she greeted him, ‘how very good to see you, come in. Can I offer you tea or coffee?’

‘I’m fine, thank you, ma’am.’ He noticed just how very different this office felt to when Pewe was here, as if a dark cloud had dissolved and it was now flooded with light and even warmth. There were photos of her husband and two children on her desk, and her running shoes and kit were stacked on a chair in the corner.

Robinson ushered him to an L-shaped sofa and sat facing him. ‘So, I thought it would be good to have a chat,’ she said, ‘and an update on Operation Canvas.’

‘Indeed – first, ma’am, I’d like to congratulate you on your promotion. I’m very much looking forward to working with you. I remember when you were on my team, about four years ago, right, and without wanting to sound a creep, I always knew you were destined for the top.’

She grinned. ‘That’s very kind of you to say so.’

‘I mean it.’

‘Good, and you’re not doing too badly yourself! Let’s hope we can still work together well as teammates. I’m aware that you’ve had something of an unhappy history with the former ACC.’

‘You could say that, ma’am.’

Again she smiled. ‘I’m looking forward to a much healthier working relationship.’

‘So am I – without saying too much about your predecessor, I don’t think he always understood what was needed during a major operation.’

‘Well, perhaps sometime you can elaborate on some of that history and we’ll see what we can change going forward. Perhaps we can have that discussion before I meet with your Crime and Operations counterparts, as I really do want us as a team to work closely together. Joined-up, I think is the expression.’

Privately, Grace winced, hoping she wasn’t going to start using any of the motivational gobbledegook that Pewe used to spout all the time. But he didn’t let it show on his face. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Absolutely.’ Then he nodded towards her kit on the chair. ‘I see you are still running, ma’am.’

‘When it’s just us, Roy, call me Hannah. How about we go out for a run one lunchtime and I’ll see if you can keep up with me!’

‘Ha!’ he said. ‘Fighting talk – is that a challenge?’

‘Consider it a gauntlet thrown down!’