Little Boy Blue

86

Samantha lay on her bed, staring at a spider crawling across the ceiling. It was a while since she’d been in a proper police cell. Normally they just put her in the custody cage with the drunk and the violent. This time they’d moved her to a solo cell. Had they done this to give her more time to reflect? To try and isolate her? Either way, it showed that they had plans for her.

She watched the spider scuttle its way to the corner of the room, settling itself back into its web to lie in wait for its prey. Was this Helen Grace’s tactic too, lying in wait in the darkness, hoping that Samantha would offer herself as a sacrifice? If it was, she’d be a long time waiting. Grace had built up a considerable reputation over the years and Samantha had been surprised and disquieted at having to face her. She had thought she might get to talk to Brooks. But instead she had found herself opposite the boss, dancing on a wire.

Grace was determined, resourceful and well-prepared. Oddly, she was also adept at putting you at your ease, which made her more dangerous still. You could never be entirely sure what her next move would be, which was unnerving at first, but as she’d grown into the interview Samantha had begun to enjoy the sudden changes of direction and the attempts to wrong-foot her. It reminded her a little of the ghastly fencing displays she’d had to sit through during her brief period in private education. Lunge, retreat, parry, riposte. Lunge, retreat, parry… Grace hadn’t landed a telling hit yet, though Samantha could tell she thought she was close. Was she out there right now, drawing all the strands together until she was ready to pull the net tight?

What she wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall, watching Grace sifting the evidence with her team and debating her next move. She had seemed so confident, so business-like when they started the interview, as if it were only a matter of time before she got her ‘man’. But, by the end, her frustration was coming through loud and clear as she pressed Samantha for a confession. She had enjoyed refusing to play ball – that bitch was clearly full of herself and needed taking down a peg or two.

Grace was used to getting her way, to being on the winning side. But not this time. Perhaps she would be patient, waiting for her prey to come to her. Or perhaps her next move would be a full-frontal assault. Either way, one thing was clear to Samantha. DI Grace was clutching at straws.