a cross,’ he said, as Charlotte held open a clear evidence bag. He dropped it inside. ‘I’m no expert but it looks like it’s from a rosary. That’ll explain what those other beads were that we found on the floor.’
‘Great,’ Claire sighed. ‘This changes the whole game.’
Michael stared at her, confused. ‘What do you mean, this changes the game?’
Claire stared at him and shook her head in frustration. She looked back at Meadows. ‘I think we’re done here. I’m going to need the Scene of Crime Report ASAP.’
‘Yes, Chief Inspector.’
Claire walked towards the entrance to the church and started to remove her bodysuit.
There was an uncomfortable silence between Michael and Meadows.
‘I think that’s your indication to follow her.’
Michael shot Meadows a dark look. ‘Yeah, thanks for that.’
***
After removing his own bodysuit, Michael followed Claire out into the street, where extra police had been drafted in to make sure no one in the massing crowd tried to breach the police cordon.
It had started to spit with rain, despite the heat, and Claire pulled out a packet of cigarettes. She offered Michael the pack, but he pushed her hand away.
‘What the hell was that about? I’ve told you before, don’t show me up like that. Respect. That’s all I want.’
Claire exhaled smoke towards Michael’s face, her eyes narrowing slightly. She plucked the cigarette from her mouth.
‘Do you really need me to spell it out for you, Diego?’
‘If it helps me understand why you felt like trying to make me look stupid, then yeah.’
Claire scoffed. ‘You make yourself look stupid, Diego, you don’t need my help.’
She took another drag on her cigarette.
‘We find a man – not just any man but a priest – murdered in his church with his chest cut open. Then to top that off, we find a cross inserted inside his throat. The beads attached to it suggest the pendant was snapped off while it lodged inside blocking his airways.’
She let the statement hang in the air a moment. ‘Why not leave it at the stab wound? The pathologist said that cut would’ve been enough for Wainwright to bleed to death. He would’ve been in excruciating pain, but that wasn’t enough for the killer.’
Claire pointed at Michael, cigarette firmly wedged between her fingers. ‘That’s anger in there, that’s what that is. We’re not dealing with just any murderer, not like we’ve faced before.’
She gestured towards the church. ‘Somebody wanted to send one big message, and not just to those who knew the victim. There’s a message especially for us.’
Michael nodded. ‘The cross is symbolic and more than just its association with the fact Wainwright was a priest.’
Claire expelled another plume of smoke. ‘And now you’re starting to think like someone who holds your rank.’
He avoided her eyes.
Claire had always been a hard case. With her natural bright blonde hair and tall ‘average’ figure, right down to her cold blue eyes that could rival the most ravaging of winter days, she could control any situation.
The well-known saying ‘It’s a Man’s World’ didn’t apply to her.
She’d worked her way up the ladder, fast-tracked to a DCI, taking down any man or woman who stood in her way. If you ever crossed her in some way, you’d better be watching your back, because you never knew when you just might need her help.
She was far from malicious but there was a darker side. Something anyone with half a brain knew not to tap into. Michael knew there were other things, something in her past that made her the way she was. He could sympathise if she’d let him; after all, he had similar demons from his past too. He just never got close enough to her to find out what hers was.
He sensed her childhood hadn’t been great, but he also knew it hadn’t been anything like the awful things you read about. Whatever it was, though, it was still affecting her now. That call she took in the church, the disappearing act all morning – the effects of it were clearly visible to him, despite the mask she tried hard to wear.
A person’s flaws can be someone else’s idea of beauty.
She had some steel in her, he’d give her that.
Claire’s ambition had got her this far and would bring her years of success, but it would also be the reason for her demise later in life if she wasn’t careful. He knew all too well.
He’d seen people fall from grace before.
For some reason it was this that had attracted him to her in the first place and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.
***
Michael arrived back at Haverbridge station before Claire so he lit himself a cigarette and leaned back against his car. He undid the top button of his shirt, arched his neck, and wiped the sweat from his brow.
Minutes later, he saw Claire’s silver Mazda enter the car park.
He met her gaze as she parked in the bay next to his. He watched her pulling her hands through her hair, securing it back into a ponytail with an elastic band.
He pulled open her car door. ‘It’s too hot today, huh?’
She shrugged off her suit jacket and tossed it over to the back seat. ‘Well, it is August.’
Michael muttered under his breath and shook his head. Claire gave him a sideways glance. ‘You don’t like me very much, do you, Diego?’
He looked at her briefly before returning his attention to his cigarette.
‘Why wouldn’t I like you?’ he said, as he tapped ash to the floor. ‘I mean you’re a fucking peach to work for, what with your take-no-prisoners attitude, bluntness and, let’s not forget my personal favourite, plain arrogance.’
She stared at him until he made eye contact with her. He shrugged. ‘Well, at least we know where we stand with each other,’ she said at length. ‘I don’t like you, you don’t like me, that much is clear, and it’s all out in the open… That’s quite a good basis for a working relationship. There’s no bullshit in-between, just black and white and straight down the middle.’
Michael dropped his cigarette to the floor, crushing it under his foot. ‘You’re anything but black and white.’ He saw her bristle. ‘You made it like this, Claire, not me.’
‘As I remember, you called wanting to end it.’
She swung her legs out of the car, pulled her bag onto her lap and began to rummage inside.
Michael looked at her as she leaned forward.
She was wearing a fitted light-pink sleeveless blouse. It clung to her body where she’d been sweating with the heat of the day in her suit jacket. A few of the top buttons had worked themselves undone and he could see the top of her bra.
He could remember how good she’d looked naked.
Claire found her BlackBerry and stood up to face him. She began checking her emails. She glanced at him. ‘You seemed eager to get rid of me anyway.’
‘You were too much of a control freak, Claire, let’s face it, and not to mention a married woman.’
‘Was a married woman. We’re talking past tense here and besides, we were never meant for anything other than a quick shag now and again when we had a break in the schedule.’
Michael held her stare. ‘Why do I get the feeling this hurt you a lot more than it hurt