Blue Murder

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Janine sat back, took a deep breath. Her work was done. Whether the crime was premeditated would be the business of the courtroom, as would the issue of whether Lesley Tulley deserved any punishment for killing the man who had used her so savagely.

Janine looked at Richard. His eyes steady on her, he adjusted his position. She began to speak. ‘Lesley Tulley, you are charged that on the 22nd of February, year two thousand and three, you murdered Matthew Tulley, contrary to Common Law…’

Janine and Richard were reliving the interview. A sense of achievement in the air despite the tragic circumstances of Lesley Tulley’s life. There was a buzz to it that Janine savoured, knowing how hard they had all worked to get here. Aware that she had done it. Led the team and got a result.

‘When you told her we’d found them. Her eyes, you could see it,’ Richard’s face was alight, his manner exhilarated.

Janine shook her head. ‘But imagine that level of control. She can go and identify his body with the freshly washed clothes in her bag, right under our noses.’ She sighed. Eased herself into her chair. She recalled the terrible cries on the videotape. The terror. ‘What must it do to you? In your head, in your heart, living like that?’ She broke off trying to take it all in. ‘I can’t… What she went through… horrific. No one should have to live like that. But… you can’t go round killing people. At the end of the day she was clever,’ she reflected, ‘clever enough to buy a man’s shirt for her husband an hour after she’d killed him.’

‘Not clever enough to walk away.’

Janine stretched. ‘Up to the jury now. With luck they’ll find mitigating circumstances.’

‘O’Halloran’ll kill you,’ he teased.

‘Not if The Lemon gets there first.’ She still had to face the music. ‘Think I might need to go off on bed-rest.’

Richard chuckled. Then he stopped smiling. ‘Janine…’

‘Don’t.’

‘The affairs, Wendy – we were both unhappy.’

‘That’s not what I heard.’

‘Well, you heard wrong. Wendy, she didn’t want kids. I didn’t think it mattered. But you get older – the affairs, it was a way out, that’s all.’

‘And I’ve got a ready-made family?’ She said quickly.

‘It’s not like that. You and me, there was always that spark.’

‘Richard…’ She wished he’d shut up.

‘You feel something.’

She didn’t deny it but a thousand buts crowded her mind.

‘We could be good together. The right wavelength.’

‘I come with a lot of baggage.’

Richard observed her bump. ‘I know,’ he said wryly.

‘Not just this. Three kids, Pete. It’s not like before, it can’t be the two of us. It’s never going to be that simple.’

Shap stuck his head round the door. ‘The Lemon, boss.’

‘Sir.’

‘Exactly which part of ‘release Mrs Tulley’ didn’t you understand?’ His words were clipped, sharp. ‘Your promotion…’

‘We got the clothes, sir.’

He stared at her, momentarily taken aback.

‘And a confession.’ She saw the venom in his glare. He loathed being bested. ‘It’ll fly, sir. CPS like it.’

He closed his eyes briefly. Then tight-lipped. ‘Right,’ a wave to dismiss her.

If that’s how he wants to play it. As she reached the door, passing his computer with an error message on screen – Windows was not shut down properly – he spoke again.

‘Janine.’

She turned, smiling, at last she’d get a morsel of praise, a crumb of appreciation. She’d solved the bloody case, after all. She looked at him expectantly.

‘I need all your documents, evaluation, final budget,’ he checked his watch. ‘Five thirty.’

The bastard!

She nodded curtly. Then had a thought. ‘The Chief Constable – he’ll be delighted. Will you tell him, sir?’ And may it choke you.

His face was like thunder. Then she glimpsed, just for a nanosecond, a hint of humour in his eyes. A slight inclination of the head. Touché.

Janine struggled to collate and copy all the relevant papers and the clock raced towards her deadline. Twenty-five past and he was still in his office. Half past. The last page printing. Beeping and the out of paper light started flashing. Damn. She stuffed more paper in, set resume. It was 5.37 when she got to his office. He had gone.

Janine had an infantile moment when she considered burning the lot before shrugging it off. He would not spoil her day. No, sir!

She dumped the pile on his desk and went off to join the rest of the team in the bar down the road.

They greeted her with a round of applause. As boss she did the honours and bought another round. She waited at the bar, tired but pleased with herself. Gazing into the mirror behind the bar she caught Richard’s eye, held it a moment too long. Shook her head. What was she going to do with him? Nothing for now. Never make decisions when you are tired, stressed or emotional: that ruled out most of Janine’s waking life.

He walked her back to the station when she’d made her excuses and left. Looked like Shap and Butchers were settled in for the night.

She and Richard stood beside her car. ‘I could ring you; maybe do something later in the week? Go for a.’ he tailed off.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Not an outright no, then? There is a chance?’

She gave him a frank look. Shrugged.

‘I can wait.’

‘Some things are worth waiting for.’ She smiled, opened her car door, got in and started it up.

He stood back and watched her pull away. Watched until the car disappeared from view. Then turned on his heels.

Tom was home, safe and happy and in bed. Michael had fallen asleep listening to his headphones. She eased them off and switched off his telly. Thought momentarily of Dean and Ferdie and all the young lads who had the odds stacked against them from the word go. The bubble bath was deep and just the right temperature. She slid into the water, leant her head back against the edge of the bath and breathed in the fragrance.

I did it, we did it. Oh, yes! Bone tired but home and dry – well, so to speak.

The weight off her feet was a blessed relief. She massaged her stomach, felt something solid to one side, head, hip? Stroked it. Boy or girl? Didn’t matter, did it, so long as all was well.

She was drifting off when Eleanor’s voice came bawling up the stairs like a banshee. ‘Mum, the washing machine is leaking!’

Please, she thought, oh, please. Give me a break!