Little Boy Blue

101

Helen shut her front door, locking it behind her. Leaning against it, she closed her eyes and tried not to cry. She had left the station and headed straight home, driving too fast, barely registering the other drivers. Her head was pounding and she now pulled her cigarettes from her pocket, but they tumbled from her grasp. Her hands were shaking – she was still in shock.

She kept replaying the last couple of hours in her head, barely believing they were real. It was over twenty years since anyone had been sexually aggressive towards her and she would never have expected it to happen at Southampton Central. The station had been her sanctuary for so long, the place where she could be a normal, functioning human being – but Gardam had destroyed all that.

What the fuck was he thinking? She’d told him about herself in confidence and as a friend. She’d been worried about the impact of her past on the case, but that was it. She had never encouraged his interest in her. Quite the opposite: she had put his close attention down to him being a good manager, a front-line officer who knew what it was like to lead a major investigation. What signs had he picked up on to make him think that he could behave like that?

It was scarcely believable and she wanted to wish it all away, but she still had his skin under her nails and the scent of his aftershave on her face. She hurried to the bathroom and, pulling off her jacket and blouse, scooped handfuls of hot water over her face, neck and hands. Before long her hair was dripping, her make-up smeared, but she was clean.

Towelling dry her hair, she looked at herself in the mirror. What should she do now? Should she report him? What he’d done was totally unacceptable but he hadn’t harmed her and if he contested her account of what happened, how on earth could she prove that she was telling the truth? It would be his word against hers.

She should report him. She had to report him. But the thought made her sick to the stomach and besides she might very well come off worse – Gardam had friends in high places. There’d be no question of carrying on with the investigation, of getting justice for Jake. But could she really go back to work as if nothing had happened and report to Gardam in the usual way? She now knew what he thought of her and it was impossible to stop thinking about it.

Buzz.

The noise had been somewhere on the periphery of her consciousness, but now she heard it clearly.

Buzz.

There it was again. It was coming from somewhere within the flat. Scenting danger, Helen drew her baton and extended it, creeping forward towards the source of the noise.

Buzz.

It was coming from the kitchen. What the hell was it?

Buzz.

Losing patience, Helen now stepped quickly inside. There was no one in the kitchen, but the sight that greeted her still stopped her in her tracks. Her private phone was sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. The mobile that she had dropped down a drain three days ago. It was powered up and now buzzing in receipt of a text message.

Helen inspected the room. Who had put it there? Were they still in the flat? The kitchen window was secured, but what about the living room? The bedroom? Baton raised, Helen charged from the kitchen, checking the windows, the cupboards, under the bed. Her heart was beating fast, but there was no sign of an intruder. She was alone.

Who had seen her drop the phone? Who had returned it to her? Why had they brought it back?

Helen walked quickly into the kitchen. Pulling a tea towel from the hooks, she covered her hand and carefully picked the phone up. Through the cotton fabric, she pressed READ. The message sprang up – it was from Angelique and it was short and sweet:

We need to meet.