Little Boy Blue

80

Gardam leant against the two-way mirror, his eyes glued to the contest in front of him. In his younger days, he had loved the tussle of suspect and interviewer, revelling in the feints and parries, the carefully laid traps and elegant evasions, but he seldom got the chance to enjoy it now. His was a desk job, important but managerial, far from the front line, far from the fun. So he had to amuse himself vicariously, watching others do the job he once loved.

The experience was always sweeter when the interview took place under high pressure. The discovery of a second body and the ensuing media excitement had left no one in Southampton Central in any doubt about the need for a quick resolution to the case. Two men had been sadistically murdered, but worse still their initial suspect now languished in hospital, following a botched suicide attempt. Southampton was being made to look like a den of vice and its police force far from competent – Gardam had already had the police commissioner, the local MP and the Mayor on the phone, bending his ear about it.

His get-out-of-jail card in these situations was always Helen. She was an officer of such standing that nobody – least of all the local politicians, who liked to appear strong on law and order – could take serious issue with the way investigations were run. Yes, there were false starts and accidents, and you could never predict how people caught up in cases like these would react, but Helen’s track record at getting results in the big investigations was second to none.

Gardam had used her name many times to smooth ruffled feathers, assuring his critics that justice would prevail, and in his heart he did believe that this case would be no exception. But another part of him knew that it was already very different. He and Helen had worked together on complicated investigations before, but never as closely as this. Something profound had changed in their relationship.

Was he genuinely falling in love with her? He’d had office crushes before, but he’d never been tempted to act on them. This was something else. She had opened herself up to him. He had replayed their recent conversation over and over in his mind. Did she know how he felt about her? Was it even possible she knew that he watched her? He hoped not because that made her confession even more unprompted. She had bared her soul to him, revealing things she hadn’t confided to anyone else. He had the strong sense that she did this not just to unburden herself, but also to test him, to see how he would react. If he’d been obviously shocked or judgemental she might have backed off, but he had been accepting and encouraging, so she had elaborated, drawing him into her world. He hoped in time she would go further.

But that was for another day. Now there was work to be done. Still, it didn’t stop Gardam drinking in his subordinate now, noting the way she spoke, the way she held herself, the manner in which she teased and coaxed her suspect towards her traps. It was magical to watch and Gardam knew that his other duties would be neglected until she was done. While she was here, performing for him, the rest of the world could go hang.