‘Maureen O’Dowd did most of the work, I just pointed her in the right direction.’
Margaret Challinor leant forward and touched his hand. ‘But you can’t continue like this, Ridpath, at the moment. Your health won’t stand it.’
‘But I want to carry on working, Mrs Challinor, I don’t want to give up. I’m only thirty-seven for God’s sake.’
She glanced at Claire Trent before carrying on speaking. ‘That’s why I’ve been in discussions with Detective Superintendent Trent. We both believe you fulfil an important function between the work of the police and of the coroner’s office…’
Claire Trent interrupted. `Frankly, MIT would never have made the connection between the deaths of Ronald Wilson and Gerard Connelly. When you’re better, and we hope that’s soon, we both want you to continue in your new role for at least the next six months…’
‘…We’ll see how it goes, but we feel that it’s an effective use of resources,’ added Mrs Challinor.
‘Nice to know I’m a “resource”.’
‘You know I don’t mean it like that. Quite simply, you’re effective, Ridpath. Neither of us have worked out how yet, but you are…’
‘… We both know it can’t go on like this, you’re not the sort of person who does things, half-heartedly…’ added Claire Trent.
‘…So I’ve found the money to get an assistant coroner’s officer for you. Take away some of the workload.’
They were tag-teaming him and he was quite enjoying it.
‘What do you think, Ridpath?’
Before he answered, a shadow appeared behind their heads.
‘I see you got here before me.’
Polly’s voice. His wife and daughter were here to see him.
‘Hello, Mrs Ridpath, my name’s Claire Trent.’ She stuck out her hand which Polly ignored.
‘If you ladies don’t mind, I’d like to speak to my husband in private.’
Margaret Challinor rose from her chair. ‘Of course, we’re terribly sorry for intruding.’
As they were both leaving, Ridpath remembered something that was bothering him. ‘How’s Charlie? I forgot to ask.’
Claire Trent smiled. ‘He’s out of the coma and it looks like there’s no permanent damage. In fact, the first thing he did was demand his cigarettes.’
‘He’ll be returning to MIT?’
‘When he’s ready,’ she smiled again. ‘Think about what we said, Ridpath,’ she added as she took Mrs Challinor’s arm and both left.
‘What did the Wicked Witches of East Manchester want?’ Polly said watching them depart. ‘Talking about work, I suppose.’
Ridpath didn’t answer. ‘Where’s Eve?’ he asked instead.
‘She’s with my mother. I wanted to have a chat with you.’
That sounded ominous.
She sat down on the chair vacated by Mrs Challinor and took his hand. ‘You know I love you, Ridpath. I don’t know why You are the world’s most stupid, arrogant, insufferable, pig-headed man, but for some obscure reason, I love you.’
‘I love you too, Poll, always have, always will.’
‘Yuen Fen, my mum calls it. Fate. We were destined to meet and be together.’
‘I’ll buy that, even if it is coming from the Dragon Lady.’
She looked down and patted his hand. ‘But… we can’t go on like this.’
‘I…’
‘Let me finish, Ridpath. This is difficult enough for me to say already.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We can’t go on like this. I can’t be dreading every time the phone rings just in case some voice on the other end tells me you’ve collapsed at work and have been taken to Christies…’
‘I…’
She held up her hand and he stopped speaking. ‘It’s not fair on me. It’s not fair on Eve. She needs a dad, she doesn’t need someone to save the world. She just needs somebody to tuck her in at night, give her hugs, drive her to BTS concerts and criticise her taste in boyfriends. What she definitely doesn’t need is to visit a gravestone on a Sunday carrying flowers.’
‘It won’t come to that, Poll.’
‘Won’t it? Look where you are, Ridpath. It’s not bloody Disneyland, it’s a cancer hospital and you’re recovering from pneumonia!’
‘Look, Poll…’
‘Ridpath, it’s me and Eve or the job. Which are you going to put first?’
‘Poll, it’s not like that, I…’
‘What’s your answer, Ridpath?’
Next in DI Ridpath Crime Thriller:
Where the Silence Calls
Play with fire, and you’re going to get burned. The unputdownable new Ridpath crime thriller
Find out more
First published in the United Kingdom in 2019 by Canelo
Canelo Digital Publishing Limited
57 Shepherds Lane
Beaconsfield, Bucks HP9 2DU
United Kingdom
Copyright © M J Lee, 2019
The moral right of M J Lee to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 9781788633178
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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