he’d piqued Elias’s interest.
‘She’s tough,’ he said at length, ‘but she’s good. I’d trust her with my life, Crest. You just got to earn her trust and respect.’
Elias sat forward and looked stern again, his hands now clasped in front of him on the table. ‘You know respect works both ways, right?’
Stefan’s eyes narrowed, silently questioning.
‘I mean, I can see you’re her biggest fan n’ all that but I don’t need to know the inner workings inside her head. I’ll deal with her in my own way.’
There was a long pause as the two men stared at each other. Stefan raked his fingers through his floppy light brown hair, trying to work Elias out. Realising he might have spoken too harshly, Elias added, ‘Thanks, though… for the advice.’
He stood, drained the last dregs of his coffee and set the cup back down onto the table with a bang. ‘Team briefing now, yes?’ he said as he left.
Stefan felt Matthews looking at him.
‘Are we taking bets on how long it takes him to walk?’
Stefan watched Elias leave the canteen. ‘I think he’s gonna need training wheels that’s for sure.’
From his desk, back in CID, Elias watched her through the floor-to-ceiling glass wall of her office, talking into the phone glued to her ear.
Claire must have felt eyes on her, because she looked up, straight in his direction.
He looked away first.
‘And what’re you doing for Christmas? Have you been a good girl this year?’
Elias glanced up, saw Matthews was beside Claire as soon as she came out of her office. Her face turned from a frown to what he thought was the faintest hint of a smile.
‘I’ll probably be in my straitjacket,’ she said.
He cocked an eyebrow. ‘Do I even want to know?’
‘My mother’s staying… Probably right up until Christmas.’
He laughed. ‘Don’t tell me Iris managed to prise herself away from the Costa Brava?’
‘Her once-a-year jaunt.’
‘When it’s this cold as well…’
‘She’s full of surprises,’ she said, as she took her place at the front of the room. After several seconds the room quietened down.
‘By a stroke of luck, we’ve already got some news on the body,’ Claire said, as she circulated some photographs of a young woman who, despite smiling, had eyes that remained dark pits, captured in time, the light never reaching them.
‘Nola Grant, twenty-three years old, prostitute.’
‘So our Jane Doe has a name,’ Stefan said, crossing his legs when he sat down in his chair.
Claire nodded. ‘Switchboard took a call from a girl claiming to be her flatmate, who reported her missing on the second. Her name’s Rachel Larson. She heard about the body in the lake and she said it had to be Nola, based on the significant tattoos described on the body.
‘We ran the name. Grant was known to police for soliciting and has been cautioned for drug offences. Looking at the photograph we have on file and this one provided by Larson, it sure looks like the girl we pulled from the lake this morning. The post mortem should confirm her identity with the records we have on the system. Nola went missing in the early hours of Friday morning and guess who her pimp is?’
Everyone in the room looked expectant.
‘Daryl Thomas.’
Nobody spoke at first. Claire looked at Stefan.
He paused. ‘Christ…’
‘Yeah, I thought the same,’ she said. ‘The “filth beater” as he’s affectionately known since that assault on PC Southgate the other year.’ She paused. ‘That’s not the best bit either.’
She explained the missing persons report and the voicemail left on Rachel Larson’s mobile.
‘You’ve listened to the voicemail?’ Matthews said.
Claire shook her head. ‘No, I haven’t yet, and Nola was still being treated as a missing person. It couldn’t be established whether the call was legit and not a prank. We need to get Larson’s and Nola’s phone records. Larson should tell us who Nola’s network provider was. We also need her mobile, which leads me to my next question.’
She glanced at Elias.
‘Larson refused to say whether she’d formally ID the body and now her phone is switched off. I want you, Fletch, to head down to her flat – and take DS Crest with you.’
After allocating various other tasks to the rest of the team, Stefan was soon close beside her, pulling his coat on. Claire followed his line of vision.
It was firmly set on Elias.
‘Is this his test run?’
She paused. ‘You could say that.’ She stared at Elias. ‘Keep an eye on him, Fletch.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘Are you expecting trouble?’
‘Truth be told,’ she said, looking away when Elias glanced in her direction, ‘I’m not sure yet.’
Elias looked out of the window and sighed as Stefan drove his car towards Rachel Larson’s flat. The tired-looking buildings that ran through the heart of the industrial area did little to enhance an already rundown part of Haverbridge. As they headed towards Haverbridge North, Stefan squinted at the bright shafts of light penetrating through random gaps in the gunmetal grey clouds above.
He hadn’t offered Elias any conversation and he felt uncomfortable. Racking his brains for something to chat about, he couldn’t think of anything that didn’t sound contrived or insincere.
‘Ice Maiden gave you permission to take me out with you, did she?’
Stefan’s face shot around to look at him, feeling Elias had somehow read his mind. He returned Stefan’s gaze. ‘I mean Claire, of course.’
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’ Stefan was never really any good at lying, not even telling little white ones.
‘Sure you don’t. Why would you? It’s all in my head, I get it,’ Elias said. Stefan remained quiet, concentrating on the traffic. ‘Is she like this with everyone she first meets?’
Stefan felt his face flush a little as he drew near a roundabout. ‘It’s the third exit here, isn’t it?’
Elias laughed. ‘Don’t change the subject.’
Stefan sighed as he followed the road away from the roundabout and slowed the car as he approached some local shops, pulling into one of three parking spaces outside a chip shop.
‘Larson’s flat is one of them over the shops,’ he said, looking Elias hard in the face. ‘And with Claire, just cut her some slack. You’re new to a tight-knit team, she’s naturally wary.’
Elias looked incredulous. ‘Everyone’s so far up her arse and I just don’t get it.’
Stefan had heard enough and as Elias got out of the car, Stefan followed after him. ‘Word of advice. Just drop it.’
‘Drop what?’
‘Your petty vendetta against Claire. She’s got the respect of those in high places, not to mention from those who work directly with her, me included. My advice