Not Dead Yet

29

Glenn Branson followed Roy Grace out of the Conference Room and along the maze of corridors back to the open area where some senior members of the Major Crime Branch had their permanent offices.

‘How did I do?’ he asked.

‘Good,’ Grace said and patted him affectionately on his back, as they entered his office. He saw the winking message light on his BlackBerry, which he had left on his desk. ‘We need to identify that body pronto.’

‘How?’

Grace slipped behind his desk, sat down and picked up the phone, glancing through the fifteen new emails that had come in. ‘I think you should contact the NPIA,’ he responded, ‘and see if we can get any insight from them about what kind of offender this might be.’

The National Policing Improvement Agency had a range of profilers on their books, who between them had experienced just about every conceivable method of murder, every variation of motive.

‘Good thinking. Do they operate over weekends?’

‘Not at full strength, but they’ll have someone on call twenty-four seven.’

Branson eased himself into a chair opposite Grace’s small desk. ‘You got something on your mind? You seem distracted.’

Grace continued scrolling through the emails. There was one from Graham Barrington, the Chief Superintendent of Brighton and Hove Police, who had been appointed the Gold commander for protecting Gaia during her stay in the city. No messages from Cleo, which was always a relief, after her recent collapse.

Graham Barrington was asking him if he could attend a risk assessment meeting on Gaia Lafayette at 10 a.m. the following morning, Sunday, at his office.

‘A few things,’ Grace said, typing a quick reply to Barrington that he would be there. ‘I’m worried about Cleo – I just heard earlier that Amis Smallbone’s been released. Her car was vandalized during the night.’

‘By him?’

Grace shrugged. ‘His style, yes.’

‘Shit, what are you going to do?’

‘Sort him out, when I can find him. Now I’ve got a new problem. Gaia. The Chief’s put me in charge of her security while she’s here in Sussex.’

Branson’s eyes lit up. ‘I want to meet her! I so want to meet her! Awesome! I can’t believe she’s coming to town!’

‘Wednesday,’ Grace said.

‘Will you introduce me?’

‘If you promise to keep my house tidy!’

‘You’ve got it! Wow! Gaia. She’s like – like – ’ he raised his hands then dropped them in his lap – ‘like incredible!’

‘I thought you were only into black music.’

Branson beamed. ‘Yeah, well, she sings like she’s black! And the kids would die to meet her! How involved are you going to be?’

‘I’ll know more later.’

‘I have to meet her. Got to get her autograph for Sammy and Remi!’

‘They like her music?’

‘Like it?’ He rolled his eyes. ‘They go nuts when they see her on television. Every kid in England loves her. You know how big she is?’ Then he grinned. ‘Actually I suppose you don’t, you’re too old.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I mean it. At your age, you’re probably dreaming about Vera Lynn. Everyone younger than you is dreaming about Gaia.’

‘Yep, well I’m going to be dreaming about her too, from now on. Nightmares.’

‘She’s awesome. I’m telling you. Awesome!’

Grace nodded, thinking to himself. Gaia was truly awesome. Awesome news for Brighton. A megastar. The film would be a massive global boost to the tourism so much of this city depended on.

And he knew that if anything happened to her here, on his watch, it wouldn’t just be the city of Brighton that would forever be tainted. He would be too.