‘You can tell from the way she looks at you. You’ve always been a heart-breaker and I doubt she’s ever met anyone like you. So please just behave, because I like her.’
He gave her his lopsided smile and stuck another cigarette in his mouth.
‘You also smoke too much.’
‘Mind your business, Kath, and don’t push your luck, not if you want to be present when we make the arrests. Now get out, go and get some kip.’
Kath said goodnight and made a zipping motion across her mouth before leaving the room.
Bradfield sighed. He did smoke too much and knew he’d already crossed the line with Jane, but he’d been unable to stop himself. He decided once the arrests had been made he’d send Jane back to uniform shifts and make it clear there would be no Sunday lunches at her mother’s.
Jane arrived at the station just before 6 a.m. and went to the ladies’ locker room to get changed. She’d found it hard to sleep during the night: every time she closed her eyes she couldn’t help picturing Bradfield’s handsome face with his unruly curly hair and brilliant blue eyes. She kept wondering what would have happened in his office if they hadn’t been interrupted by the call from Gibbs on the radio.
Putting on her jacket she looked at herself in the mirror. The murder inquiry had been fascinating, and often emotionally draining, but the adrenalin rush she felt being privy to Operation Hawk was even stronger. Before working with Bradfield, Jane hadn’t considered becoming a detective but for her Bradfield epitomized what being a good detective was all about: compassion where needed and the ability to instantly change approach where necessary; always keeping in mind the forensics and fine details of an investigation, no matter what it might be. Being a detective and dealing with serious crime was more stressful than uniform work but Jane thought it beat working with Harris on the front desk any day.
Jane looked in the mirror and adjusted her bow tie. She touched her face recalling the way Bradfield had pulled her close and touched her cheek as he was about to kiss her. She was suddenly awoken from her thoughts by the sound of Kath’s voice.
‘That’s the last time I sleep with Spencer Gibbs – I hardly got any kip at all.’
‘You slept with DS Gibbs?’ Jane asked, looking rather stunned.
‘He didn’t even have the decency to let me use the bed… I had to kip on a mattress with a blanket on the floor. At first he started singing rock songs and keeping a drum beat on his thighs, then when he did fall asleep like a log he snored like a foghorn!’
‘Was it your place or his?’ Jane asked, somewhat confused.
‘We shared an empty cell to grab a few hours’ kip before going back on duty,’ Kath explained as she started to undress to have a shower.
‘I’m so excited about Operation Hawk I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come in early. Is Bradfield back?’
Kath hesitated and nodded her head. ‘Yeah, he’s crashed out in his office, you know how obsessive he is.’
‘I’ll see if he wants a coffee and some breakfast,’ Jane said with a smile.
Kath saw through Jane’s smile but felt apprehensive. ‘Don’t go disturbing him – he was so tired and moody earlier he’ll bite your head off.’
‘Oh right, I won’t,’ Jane said, looking rather dejected.
Kath knew she’d promised Bradfield to keep her mouth zipped, but out of concern she felt she had to say something. ‘Listen, Jane, don’t think I’m poking my nose in, but is there anything going on between you two?’
Jane flushed, leaned closer and whispered, ‘Please don’t tell anyone, but we spent the night together.’
Although she didn’t show it Kath was stunned and needed time to think about what she should say to Jane. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t. Right now I need a shower to freshen up so I’ll see you later, darlin’,’ she said as she wrapped a towel round her and walked across the room to the showers, muttering to herself, ‘Shit, shit, shit.’ She stopped as she heard Jane singing.
Renee had pretended to be asleep when she’d heard Clifford enter the bedroom. He got into bed beside her and was snoring loudly as soon as his head hit the pillow. She had heard the bath water running and then the banging of John’s bedroom door closing. She turned over onto her side and clasped her hands beneath her chin. Hanging on the wardrobe door was her best dress, and on the dressing table was the hat that she had only ever worn once.
It was a Sunday morning and she’d usually have a lie-in, but she just couldn’t get back to sleep so she decided to make herself a cup of tea. Slowly easing herself out of bed so as not to wake Clifford, she put on her old dressing gown, picked up her slippers and crept out, closing the door silently behind her.
