The Calling of the Grave

Chapter 23

If I hadn't been told that Miller and Cross were police I'd never have guessed. Both were specialist firearms officers, trained in close protection work, but there was nothing about their appearance or attitude to suggest it. In their casual clothes they might have been teachers or medics.

Except for the guns, of course.

'What made Roper change his mind?' I asked. We were in the kitchen, sitting round the table while Sophie unpacked the groceries I'd fetched from the car and began preparing dinner.

'Roper?' Miller was crunching a strip of raw pepper.

'DI Roper. He's on the ACC's staff.'

'Bit too high and mighty for us, then,' Miller said. 'Our orders came from Naysmith, but I can't tell you any more than that. We were told to pack our bags for a trip to the country, so here we are. Ours not to reason why, and all that.'

He was the more outgoing of the two, laid back and with a ready grin. His short hair was prematurely grey, although somehow it didn't age him. Cross was a few years younger, probably still in her twenties. Although she was quieter than her partner, there was an air of unruffled competence about her that was reassuring.

At least Naysmith was taking Sophie's safety seriously.

'How long will you be staying?' she asked them, scraping chopped onion into a pan. I hadn't realized how tense she'd been until now. The pair's arrival seemed to have lifted a weight from her, so that she seemed almost drunk with relief.

'Long enough,' Miller said, peering at the bolognese sauce Sophie was preparing. 'Don't worry, we won't get under your feet. Just keep us fed and watered and you won't even know we're here. Although you might want to sautй the onions a bit longer before you add the meat.'

Sophie put down the spoon, mock-indignant. 'Do you want to do this?'

'Naw, cooking's not part of my job description. But I'm a quarter Italian, I know these things. I'd go easy with the salt, as well.'

Sophie appealed to Cross. 'Is he always like this?'

The blonde policewoman gave the impression of smiling even though her mouth didn't actually move. Her cornflower-blue eyes were serene and watchful. 'You learn not to take any notice.'

Miller looked hurt. 'I'm just saying, that's all.'

It was almost possible to forget why the pair were there, which was probably the idea. It was easier to guard someone if they were relaxed rather than jumping at shadows.

And Sophie had certainly relaxed. Her objection to staying in a safe house didn't extend to other types of protection. I was glad about that, but the meeting with Terry still preyed on my mind. I'd called Roper to let him know, and been relieved to go straight to his voicemail. I'd left a short message without going into details. If he wanted to know more he could call me back.

But I still hadn't had a chance to talk to Sophie about it. Miller and Cross must have picked up on the atmosphere, because after a while they made an excuse and left us alone. Sophie was on such a high that even then she didn't notice.

'They're really nice, aren't they? Not at all like the armed police I used to know,' she said, stirring the simmering pasta sauce. The kitchen smelled of tomato and garlic. 'They turned up about an hour or so after you'd left. I don't often get customers stopping by, so I thought they'd got lost at first, or they were trying to sell something. Then they flashed their ID and said Naysmith had sent them. Did you know he was going to?'

'No.'

Sophie broke off to look at me. 'I thought you'd be pleased. Is something wrong?'

'I saw Terry Connors this afternoon.'

She went very still, then turned back to the saucepan. 'What stone did he crawl from under?'

'He said he wanted to explain.'

'Oh?'

'I didn't know there'd been anything between you.'

She had her back to me, her face hidden. The only sound was the spoon rattling against the pan. 'There's no reason why you should.'

'Don't you think you should have mentioned it?'

'It isn't something I like to talk about. It was a mistake. A long time ago.'

I said nothing. Sophie put the spoon down and turned to face me.

'Look, it doesn't have anything to do with what's going on now.'

'Are you sure about that?'

'It's in the past, all right?' she flared. 'It's none of your business anyway. I don't have to tell you everything!'

She was right, she didn't. But she was wrong about its being none of my business. It had become that when she'd asked for my help. And whatever game Terry was playing affected us both. The sauce popped and bubbled in the pan.

'You need to stir that,' I said, and went upstairs.

My bag was back in my room. I threw the rest of my things into it. The last thing I felt like was a long drive back to London. But

Sophie was safe with Miller and Cross there. There was no longer any reason for me to stay, and I'd had enough of feeling used.

I'd finished packing when I heard a noise from the doorway. Sophie was watching me.

'What are you doing?'

I zipped the bag shut. 'It's time I left.'

'Now?' She looked surprised.

'You've got two armed guards. You'll be fine.'

'David…' She closed her eyes, fingers rubbing her temple. 'God, I can't believe Terry Connors can still cause trouble after all this time! All right, I know I should have said something, OK? I'm sorry. I was going to, just… not yet. It isn't something I'm proud of. I was going through a bad patch and… it sort of happened. It didn't go on for long, not much more than a fling, really. He told me he was separated, that he was waiting for his divorce to come through. As soon as I realized he was lying I ended it. And that's it.' She was watching me nervously, her expression sincere.

'Had you been seeing him recently?' I asked.

'No, I swear.' She came over, but stopped just in front of me. 'Stay tonight. If you still feel the same way tomorrow, then I promise I won't try to stop you. But don't leave like this. Please?'

I hesitated, then put down my bag. Sophie hugged me, her body tight against mine. 'I'm not always a very good person,' she said, her voice muffled.

For once I didn't want to believe her.

Dinner was surprisingly relaxed. That was largely down to Miller. He kept up a flowing banter, so that the meal seemed more like a social occasion than guard duty. Cross said little, smiling at her partner's jokes but content to leave the conversational running to him. Sophie had opened a bottle of wine to go with the lasagne she'd cooked – largely ignoring the suggestions from Miller – although only she and I drank any. The police officers declined without making a big deal of it, and I noticed that neither of them ate much either. They were there to do a job, and full stomachs slowed reflexes.

I hoped they wouldn't need them.

Naysmith had phoned earlier to check on us. The SIO was brisk and businesslike when I took the phone from Miller to speak to him.

'Is there any news about Monk?' I asked.

'Not yet.'

'I just wondered if something had happened to make you put Sophie under close protection. DI Roper didn't seem keen on the idea earlier.'

'DI Roper isn't the SIO, I am,' he said. 'We found Monk's fingerprints on the phone box, which confirms he's tried to contact her. As far as I'm concerned that justifies taking whatever measures are necessary.'

'I'm not complaining. I'm just surprised Simms approved it.'

There was a pause. 'As I said, I'm SIO. The ACC is too busy to be bothered with every operational detail.'

In other words the decision had been Naysmith's, not Simms'. Tensions between the SIO and his immediate superior were nothing new on any investigation, but I hoped they wouldn't get in the way.

'You've got two good officers there,' Naysmith went on. 'Their orders are not to take any chances, so whatever they tell you to do, you do it. No arguments, no debates. Clear?'

I said it was.

Monk wasn't mentioned during dinner, but despite Miller's best efforts the convict's presence loomed over the table like an unwanted guest. The police officers had checked the entire house, closing all the curtains so that anyone outside wouldn't be able to see in. And I noticed how they'd subtly engineered the seating so that they flanked Sophie, with Miller closest to the door and Cross between her and the window.

It was only afterwards, when the empty dishes had been stacked in the sink, that the reason for them being there was finally addressed.

Sophie reached for the bottle of wine. I shook my head when she made to refill my glass; she poured what was left into her own and set the bottle down with a thump.

'So how long have you two been doing this?' she asked, taking a drink.

'Too long,' Miller said. Cross just smiled.

'Do you always work together as a team?'

'Not always. Depends on the job.'

'Right.' Sophie was unsteady as she set down her glass. Suddenly she seemed drunk. I hadn't been paying attention, but she must have had more wine than I'd thought. 'So are the two of you… you know… an item?'

For once Miller seemed lost for words. It was Cross who answered. 'We just work together.'

'Right. Colleagues.' Sophie waved her hand at the guns holstered on their hips. 'Aren't you uncomfortable wearing those?'

Miller had regained his poise, but there was a faint blush on his cheeks. 'You get used to it.'

'Can I take a look?'

'Best not.' He said it lightly enough, although it was obvious that he wasn't happy. Cross was watching Sophie with her usual Zen-like calm, the blue eyes unreadable. But the atmosphere around the table had abruptly changed.

Sophie seemed oblivious. 'Have you ever used them?'

'Well, they like us to know which end the bullets come out of.'

'But have you ever shot anyone?'

'Sophie…' I began.

'It's a legitimate question.' She stumbled over 'legitimate'. 'If Monk walked in here, now, would you be able to kill him?'

Miller exchanged a quick look with Cross. 'Let's hope it doesn't come to that.'

'Yes, but if he did-'

'Who'd like coffee?' I said.

Miller seized on the opening. 'Sounds good. I'm ready for a caffeine fix.'

Sophie blinked, as though she were struggling to keep up. 'Coffee? Oh… right, sorry.'

'I'll get it,' I offered.

'No, it's OK.' She stood up but clutched the table as she suddenly swayed. 'Whoa…'

I reached out to support her. 'Are you all right?'

Her face had paled but she tried to smile as she straightened. 'God… what was in that wine?'

'Why don't you go to bed?' I said.

'I… I think I'd better.'

I went upstairs with her. 'How are you feeling?' I asked when we reached the bedroom.

'Just a bit woozy.' She was still pale but looked better than she had downstairs.'My own fault. All that wine when I've hardly eaten all day.'

Reaction was probably as much to blame as the wine. She'd been through enough to affect anyone, but I was mindful that she was still recovering from concussion.

'Are you sure you're OK?'

'I'm fine. You go back downstairs.' She smiled tiredly. 'I really am a rotten host.'

I went down to the kitchen. I could hear murmured voices but they fell silent as I approached. Miller was by the window, the curtain swinging as though it had been disturbed. Cross was leaning against the table, the denim of her jeans tight against her muscular legs. They regarded me with professionally bland faces.

'How is she?' Miller asked. I noticed he had his radio in his hand.

'Just tired. Has something happened?'

'Naw, I'm just checking in.' He slipped the radio away. 'That offer of coffee still on?'

I put the kettle on to boil and spooned instant coffee into three mugs.

'Not for me, thanks,' Cross said.

'Steph doesn't do tea or coffee,' Miller told me. 'Caffeine's poison, and don't even mention refined sugar. Two in mine, please.'

It had the sound of an old argument neither of them took seriously. Cross pushed herself off the table as I poured boiling water into two mugs.

'Time to do the rounds.'

I watched her go, then turned to Miller. 'She isn't going outside by herself?'

'No, just seeing that everything's locked up.'

'I thought you'd already checked?'

'Never hurts to make sure.' He said it lightly, but I realized it was in case Sophie or I had unlocked anything. They weren't leaving anything to chance.

I passed him a mug. 'Can I ask something?'

'Fire away.'

'What happens if Monk does come?'

He blew on the coffee to cool it. 'Then we get to earn our wages.'

'You know how dangerous he is?'

'Don't worry, we've been briefed. And we've heard the stories about him.'

'They aren't stories.'

'We won't underestimate him, if that's what you're worried about. If he tries anything, we stop him. Simple as that.'

I hoped it would be. Miller took a sip of coffee, pulling a face at the heat. 'If it's Steph that's bothering you, don't let it. She can look after herself.'

'I'm sure she can.'

'But you'd have been happier if it was two men?'

I didn't like to admit it, but he was right. I didn't consider myself a chauvinist but Cross was half the convict's size. 'You haven't met Monk. I have.'

'And he's a rapist and a monster and all the rest. I know.' Miller's usual brashness had gone. 'Steph's a better shot than I am, she's faster and she could take me in a fight any day. When she was in uniform a crackhead decked her partner one night and pulled a knife on her. I've seen the file. He was six two and thirteen stone. She took the knife off him, put him on the floor and cuffed him without any back-up. And that was before she got her third dan in karate.'

There was a half-smile on his face as he spoke, but I don't think he was aware of it. I thought of how he'd blushed when Sophie had asked if he and Cross were an item. Perhaps not, but they were certainly more than colleagues.

At least as far as Miller was concerned.

'We're not here to arrest Monk, our job's to protect Sophie,' he went on. 'At the first sign of trouble we're getting you both the hell out of here. Failing that… Well, I don't care how big he is, he's not bullet-proof.'

He gave a cheerful grin that wrinkled the corners of his eyes. Perhaps because I was looking for it I saw the hardness behind them now.

'Do you want a hand with the dishes?' he asked.

It wasn't much longer before I went to bed myself. I left Miller and Cross sitting at the kitchen table, comfortable in each other's company. The only spare room was the one I was in, but Miller assured me neither of them would be sleeping.

I was glad they were there, but it felt strange going to bed and leaving them downstairs. I paused outside Sophie's room, considering knocking to see if she was all right. But there was no sound from inside, so I guessed she was asleep.

I went into my own room and crossed to the window without turning on the light. The fog made the starless night doubly impenetrable. I tried to make out shapes in it until the cold radiating from the glass made me lower the curtain.

I was tired but I didn't think I'd be able to sleep. There was too much adrenalin racing through my system. I should have felt relaxed with the two armed officers downstairs, but instead I felt restless and pensive. As though I were waiting for something to happen.

If it does it'll all be over before you can do anything about it. Miller was right: no matter how dangerous Monk might be, he wasn't bullet-proof.

Even so, instead of getting undressed I lay on the bed fully clothed. Christ, what a day. I stared at the darkened ceiling, thinking about Monk, about Simms and Wainwright. And about Sophie and Terry. As my eyelids grew heavy it seemed there was a connection there I could almost see, a tenuous link that hovered frustratingly out of sight…

Someone was shaking me. I woke in a panic to find Miller standing by the bed with a torch in his hand. If he thought it was odd to see me lying there fully dressed he gave no sign.

'Get up, we need to go.'

The last rags of sleep fell away. Blinking against the brightness, I swung my legs off the bed.

'What's happened?'

There was nothing affable about Miller now. His face was grim as he headed back towards the landing.

'Monk's coming.'