… I didn’t blab about it, and I’m damn sure Gail wouldn’t have.’
Gwen waved that away. ‘No secret’s one hundred per cent, Mark. Think about it. No matter how sensitive the info, everyone trusts someone, and quite often it’s someone they shouldn’t. Hell, does it matter?… We’re all adults.’
‘Yeah, but …’ This wasn’t panning out the way he’d expected it to. ‘Look, if … if Gemma actually does know, and she’s still partnered me and Gail together, that’s a bit of an error, isn’t it?’
‘Perhaps she just wants everyone to be happy?’
It was several seconds before Heck could process the meaning of that.
‘Hell,’ he said slowly. ‘She wants to sweeten the pill … is that it? So that when she finally hooks up with Reed, I won’t be too upset?’ It was a shocking thought, but it made a horrible sort of sense. Heck was so thrown by it that suddenly he was thinking aloud rather than making conversation. ‘Who’d have known she’d ever be so manipulative? The bloody little schemer. Well, it won’t sodding work. There’s nothing between me and Gail now …’
‘Hey, Mark,’ Gwen said, ‘got room for some advice?’
‘Sure,’ he said distractedly.
‘You’re being a bit ridiculous.’ She gave him a frank stare. ‘Gemma is doing the best she can with limited resources. One of those resources is a relatively inexperienced detective … who, quite rightly, she’s put in company with an experienced detective. And as those two detectives know each other already and have worked together previously, so much the better.’
‘Yeah …’ When Heck thought about it that way, it did make sense.
‘I honestly don’t know why you still have this hankering after Gemma’s affection,’ Gwen said. ‘Assuming that’s what it is. The way I hear it, you and she fight like cat and dog.’
‘We’ve been through hell and high water together.’
‘Tough experiences usually bring people closer.’
‘Personally, I’ve always felt it’s the job that’s got in the way.’
‘The job?’
‘Most of our fallouts are over procedure.’
‘Ah. You mean you want to use the Ways and Means Act, and Gemma wants to do things the proper way?’
He didn’t bother answering that, because there was no answer he could give.
‘Let me tell you something, Mark.’ Gwen sat back. ‘I once thought you two were right for each other. But, for whatever reason, it hasn’t happened. So, for both your sakes – and for the sake of Operation Sledgehammer, I might add – this can’t go on much longer.’
‘Ma’am … we’re fine. It’s business as usual.’
‘It isn’t, Mark. That’s the problem. We’re under the microscope like never before.’
‘It won’t interfere with anything.’
‘Just make sure it doesn’t, hmm? And think about growing up a little. You both have separate lives … time you started living them.’
Heck was about to respond, when he spotted the object of their conversation approaching.
Gemma and Reed had been en route to the exit, but having seen them together, Gemma now veered towards their table.
‘Don’t you two look cosy?’ she said.
‘Just reminiscing about the good old days,’ Heck replied.
Reed offered his hand to Gwen. ‘DI Reed, ma’am. Jack.’
She shook hands with him. ‘Pleased to meet you, Inspector.’
‘Heard some amazing things about you, ma’am.’
‘And I you. Well done on the Black Chapel arrests.’
‘Well … it was a team effort.’ Reed indicated Heck. ‘I particularly couldn’t have done it without this fella’s groundwork.’
Heck said nothing, but inwardly seethed. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Reed had been a pompous idiot, or a boring fart. But instead he was basically a good egg. The guy wasn’t just tall and handsome, with a natural aristocratic bearing, he was pleasant, clever, witty, and he always gave credit where it was due. It was no small challenge when you’d set your stall out to loathe someone like that.
‘Let’s hope we can call on the same level of effective teamwork when Sledgehammer gets under way,’ Gwen said.
Reed nodded. ‘We’ll all be pursuing different targets, of course. But ultimately, we’re the same outfit. We can always call on each other’s expertise or assistance. I was thinking we should video conference twice a day, just so we can keep each other informed.’
‘We’ll be doing that, anyway,’ she replied. ‘It’s part of the strategy.’
‘I don’t just mean with Silver Command, ma’am. I mean all of us. Filing our updates together, keeping each other appraised of where we’re at. If nothing else, it’ll be good for morale.’
‘I agree,’ Gwen said. ‘It might even boost progress. For example, Heck, if you felt that one of the other teams – I’m not thinking of anyone specifically, of course – was making real headway on their case, and you were still on first base …’
‘I’m not sure that turning this thing into a competition between the investigation teams is necessarily the way we want to go,’ Gemma said.
‘Nevertheless, that’s what’ll happen,’ Gwen replied.
Gemma clamped her mouth shut, biting down on a riposte. Heck eyed her with interest; it was rare to see Gemma voice a concern and have it so airily brushed aside. He’d been wondering how he was going to cope having Gail Honeyford along, but now he wondered how Gemma would do playing second fiddle to Gwen Straker.
‘I don’t think it’ll be a case of competition,’ Reed said, ‘as much as mutual encouragement.’
‘So long as it gets the best out of everyone,’ Gwen replied, standing up. She turned to Gemma. ‘You ready? We’ve got a long session ahead.’
Gemma nodded. ‘I’ll not be a sec.’ As Gwen left the canteen, Reed sauntering after her, Gemma turned to Heck. ‘How are things going with DC Honeyford?’
‘Sweet,’ he said. ‘We went for a drink last night, and it’s just like we’ve never been apart. I think she and me are going to get on very well.’
Gemma nodded as if satisfied to hear this. Otherwise, there wasn’t a flicker of emotion.
‘Right … there’s no way to sugar-coat this,’ Gemma said to the assembled staff of Operation Sledgehammer. ‘You all know the crisis we’re facing in the police service at this present time. And you know that it’s a very serious crisis indeed.’
There were over seventy of them crammed into the conference chamber, and on a hot August morning like this, it was an uncomfortable crush. Fans whirred overhead, but it was stuffy and stale. Many jackets and ties had been removed; foreheads gleamed with sweat.
Gemma Piper, not atypically, seemed oblivious to this, looking cool and unruffled as she pirouetted back and forth in her slacks and heels, her only concessions to the temperature that her blouse’s sleeves were rolled to the elbows and her collar button unfastened.
In contrast, Gwen Straker was seated on a stool to one side, next to the conference room’s large VDU, fingering