Pop Goes the Weasel

24

‘I had my head ripped off the last time I was in here.’

Emilia Garanita leaned back in her chair, enjoying the rare luxury of being in the nerve centre of Southampton Central. It wasn’t often you were personally summoned to the Detective Superintendent’s office.

‘I don’t think I was Detective Superintendent Whittaker’s favourite person. How is he doing these days?’ she continued, failing to hide the gleeful malice that lay behind her enquiry.

‘You’ll find I’m a rather different character,’ Ceri Harwood responded. ‘In fact that’s why I asked you to come here.’

‘A girl-to-girl chat?’

‘I wanted to put things on a different footing. I know in the past the relationship between the press and some of my officers has been combustible. And that you have often felt cut out of things. That doesn’t help anyone, so I wanted to tell you face to face that things will be different now. We can help each other to help ourselves.’

Emilia said nothing, trying to work out if she was for real. New bosses always said this when they arrived, then got on with the job of frustrating the local press at every turn.

‘How different?’ she demanded.

‘I want to keep you informed of major developments and harness your reach to help us further our investigations. Starting with the Empress Road murder.’

Emilia raised an eyebrow – so this wasn’t going to be flannel after all.

‘I’ll have a name for you soon. And you will be given all pertinent details of the crime. Plus we are setting up a dedicated hotline, which I would like you to major on in your next edition. It’s imperative that we get any potential witnesses to come forward as soon as possible.’

‘What’s so special about this murder?’

Harwood paused a moment before answering.

‘It was a particularly brutal killing. The person who did this is highly dangerous, possibly with mental health problems. As yet we don’t have a physical description, which is why we need your eyes and ears. It could make all the difference, Emilia.’

Harwood smiled as she said her name, appearing every inch the confidential friend.

‘Have you spoken to DI Grace about this?’ Emilia countered.

‘DI Grace is on board. She knows we’re running a different ship now.’

‘No more diversions? No more lies?’

‘Absolutely not,’ Harwood replied, her broad smile breaking out once again. ‘I’ve got a feeling you and I can do business together, Emilia. I do hope I won’t be disappointed.’

The meeting was over. Emilia rose without having to be asked, impressed by what she’d seen. Harwood was a smart operator and seemed to have Grace’s measure. It felt like a sea change and perhaps it was.

Emilia had the distinct impression that she was going to have fun with this one.