A Narrow Trajectory

by Faith Martin

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  Hillary Greene got out of her old Volkswagen Polo, Puff the Tragic Wagon, and closed the door quickly behind her as a blast of cold November air tried to snatch it from her fingers. She put the hood up on her green parka coat and all but power-walked towards the entrance to Kidlington’s Thames Valley Police HQ, trying not to shiver under the icy onslaught.

  She made her way down into the bowels of the building where, although a retired Detective Inspector, she now worked as a consultant for the Crime Review Team, taking a second look at cold murder cases. Giving the desk sergeant a friendly salute as she passed him, he responded in kind, barely breaking stride as he dealt with a gaggle of traffic cops who seemed to have some sort of grievance and were clearly set on trying to get him on side.

  This week her new boss, Detective Superintendent Roland ‘Rollo’ Sale formally took over the reins of the CRT from Acting DCS Steven Crayle, who’d been promoted to head a new team operating at St Aldates, in Oxford. As she headed through the labyrinth of corridors in the basement towards her office – which had once, literally, been a stationery cupboard – she glanced at her watch a shade nervously, relieved to see that it was still well before eight a.m. She was hoping to catch Steven before her new boss arrived, since there were two important things that they needed to discuss in private. One was work related, but the other was very much more personal.

  She hastily slung her bag under the desk and shucked off her coat, then retraced her steps, noting that the small shared office where she worked with her team was also empty. Jimmy Jessop, the old former sergeant who acted as her right-hand man would probably be in soon, though.

  The CRT was a low-priority department and thus more subject to budgetary constraints than most; the brass had recently taken to recruiting young civilian consultants who would be content to be paid peanuts in exchange for an apprenticeship of sorts, thereby freeing up fully trained police officers for more active duties. The two currently assigned to Hillary, young goth Wendy Turnbull and wealthy whizz-kid Jake Barnes would probably also be in early, since both were keen and eager to work.

  Hillary’s lips twitched slightly as she contemplated Jake Barnes’s ulterior motives for such diligence, and sighed. Ever since he’d joined them in the CRT, she couldn’t help but wonder why a good-looking young guy, who’d made so much money so fast, should be interested in a second career in the police force. Right from the start she’d doubted him, and had since been proved right to do so. But before the day was out, they were finally going to get some answers from that young man. And she could only hope that they were going to be ones that they could all live with.

  The top brass, not surprisingly, regarded him as their golden boy and something of a PR coup. And Hillary wasn’t looking forward to being the one to disabuse them of that fond notion.

  She tugged down the navy blue jacket of her two-piece suit, and smoothed back her cap of dark chestnut brown hair before tapping on her boss’s door. Her lips curled into a slight smile as a familiar voice called for her to enter.

  Acting Detective Chief Superintendent Steven Crayle looked up as she opened the door and stepped in. What he saw was a woman who had just celebrated her fiftieth birthday, with an intelligent, pale oval face, large, sherry-coloured eyes and an old-fashioned hourglass figure. It was a figure that he knew very well indeed.

  As she approached his desk he could see that her eyes were sparkling, and a small tug at her lips let him know that she was probably up to some kind of mischief.

  With a sense of pleasant anticipation, he leaned back in his chair and smiled back at her. A tall, lean, dark-haired man, he wore his own elegant navy suit with a casual nonchalance that somewhat belied his sharp mind and steely competence.

  ‘Hello, beautiful,’ he said.

  Hillary Greene raised one dark eyebrow. ‘Hello, gorgeous.’

  ‘Now that we’ve both established that we could be had up on sexual harassment charges, what brings you in so early?’ he wondered aloud. As a former DI Hillary had, of course, worked all hours, but as civilian consultant, one of the perks she enjoyed was a regular (and strictly no-overtime) nine-to-five regime.

  ‘I wanted to talk to you,’ Hillary said seriously, settling into the seat opposite his tidy desk and only then admitting to herself how truly nervous she felt. Her heart was beating slightly too fast, and she could sense a little flutter in her chest that told her that she hadn’t got her breathing quite under control. She swallowed compulsively. ‘It’s about that question you asked me a little while ago.’

  Steven Crayle felt his own mouth go suddenly dry. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yes. Look, first, let me say that I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting this long for an answer. And thanks for being so patient. It’s just that I needed to think it through carefully,’ she said, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on his face. He was nearly six years her junior and, it was, she had to admit, an extremely attractive face.

  Steven was divorced with two grown children and was clearly a man of significant ambition. Hillary hadn’t been exactly enamoured of her new boss when she’d first been persuaded by Commander Marcus Donleavy to return to work.

  And, it had to be said, Steven Crayle hadn’t been best pleased to have a new lead investigator foisted on him either, without even being given the courtesy of interviewing her himself.

  So it was funny, Hillary thought philosophically, just how quickly things could change – and in ways that you’d never expect.

  ‘And the answer to that question is yes. And no,’ she said.

  Steven blinked, his dark chocolate coloured eyes showing a moment of utter confusion.

  ‘How can it be yes and no?’ he said, doing his best to keep his voice level. For nearly two weeks now, he’d felt his nerves being stretched to the limit, waiting for her response. And only his own resolve to be patient, and to remember that she was well worth the wear and tear on his nerves, had kept him outwardly calm. Now he felt totally confused and just a shade angry. What sort of a run-around was this?

  ‘Either you do want to marry me, or you don’t,’ he stated flatly.

  Hillary sighed gently at the – not unexpected – bite in his voice. She certainly didn’t blame him for the ambivalence. They’d been lovers for nearly a year when he’d stunned her by, seemingly out of the blue, asking her to marry him. It had been the last thing that she’d expected, and it had given her a serious dilemma.

  Hillary had married relatively young and had had a long, bitter time to regret it. Ronnie Greene had turned out to be a serial womanizer and a bent policeman as well, but he had died in a road traffic accident before he could be prosecuted. She herself had been investigated, but cleared of any complicity in his scams; not surprisingly, the experience had left her very wary of men indeed, and of the state of marriage in particular.

  Steven, of course, had known all this. He had never been in any doubts about the nature of his growing feelings for this woman, and now he echoed her sigh. He’d always walked a very fine line in this relationship, but was determined to win her trust.

  ‘OK. So, what exactly does “yes and no” entail?’ he asked with a grin, attempting to lighten the mood. He wasn’t sure that he’d completely succeeded in hiding his disappointment, however, because she left her chair and came to his side, propping her delightful derriere on top of his desk, and leaning over him.

  Although it had always been tacitly understood b
etween them that they didn’t show their affection for each other at work, Hillary Greene now broke that rule by reaching out and pushing the dark hair from his forehead. He was, technically, no longer her boss, and soon he wouldn’t even be working in the same building. Besides, she wanted to kiss him. A state of affairs that had been fairly routine just lately, she mused wryly.

  As she proceeded to do so, and raised her face from his, she saw that he was watching her somewhat warily, and again her lips twitched.

  ‘Yes, I want to be with you, and live with you, and let everyone know that we’re together as a proper couple and all of that,’ she explained. ‘But no, I don’t think we need to get married to do all of that. And I can’t be doing with all the hassle of going through a wedding and what not. Besides, it’s not as if we really need a piece of paper to make it official. Is it?’

  Steven slowly nodded. It was pretty much as he’d suspected, and he tried to ignore the little niggle of rejection that he could feel worming its way into his guts.

  ‘So, what, you want to move in to my place?’ he hazarded tentatively.

  Hillary grinned. ‘Well, you could move into mine, but it would be a bit cramped, don’t you think?’

  When she’d left Ronnie, who had contrived to keep control of their family home, Hillary had moved onto a narrowboat, The Mollern, that had belonged to her uncle. She had always intended her new accommodation to be strictly temporary, but she had found, to her surprise, that she had grown to like life on the canal, and had later bought the boat outright. It was now home to her, and she wasn’t quite willing to give the old girl up yet.

  But she had a plan.

  ‘I thought, since your back garden practically runs down to the canal, I could bring the Mollern up from Thrupp,’ she said, mentioning the nearby village where she’d been permanently moored for the last few years, ‘and tie her up at your place. That way, we could take the boat out for weekends away and holidays and what have you. Makes sense, doesn’t it?’ she asked, with just a shade of worry in her voice. It was important that she sell this compromise to him, because she didn’t quite know what she’d do if he vetoed it. Whilst she didn’t feel able to marry the man, she didn’t want to lose him, either.

  ‘I know you’re going to be as busy as hell with your new job, so it’ll probably be some time before you have anything as luxurious as time off. But with the boat available, we can just slip the moorings and be off alone together at a moment’s notice, which will help you cope with the stress.’

  Steven was to head up a new unit dedicated to bringing down the gangs of men who targeted young girls and women, and she knew that such an enterprise could prove exhausting. ‘Also, since you’ll probably have no end of nights when you don’t come back from the office at all, I’ll be able to stay overnight on the Mollern, instead of rattling around in the house alone. So that’s an added bonus, too.’

  Steven nodded a shade wearily. ‘You seem to have it all worked out,’ he said quietly.

  Hillary felt her hands become cold and sweaty. ‘Is it really such a bad plan?’ she asked, a shade gruffly. She knew that he wanted marriage for the security and the sense of permanence that it represented, and she felt undeniably guilty for not having the guts to give him that. So if he rejected her compromise, it was going to hurt like blazes, because she simply had no idea where they could go from there.

  So she found herself holding her breath as she waited for his verdict.

  Steven caught the glimmer of fear in her eyes and bit back a groan. ‘It’s not a bad plan at all,’ he said softly, and reached out for her as she kissed him again. And the relief she felt was obvious in the strength of the grip of her hands on his shoulders. Slowly, he could feel the tension ooze out of her. And he was glad.

  But he still couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

  He tried to admonish himself for being too greedy. After all, living together was definitely a step up from where they’d been, and he could work on that, right? And as the woman in his arms began to laugh gently, he felt the tension in his own shoulders slowly begin to ease. So what if he’d hoped for more?

  He wanted to be the one to exorcise the ghost of Ronnie bloody Greene forever, but hadn’t that been an unrealistic and somewhat juvenile ambition? He’d known from the outset all the baggage that Hillary Greene carried around with her, and yet in spite of that, he’d watched this gifted copper solve cold case crimes that even he had believed to be impossible. He’d watched the professional detective at work and marvelled, and later, had been lucky enough to find his way into the private life of the woman behind the high-solve rate and all-but-legendary reputation.

  So he’d damned well take what he could get, and be grateful.

  ‘Steven?’

  ‘Hmmm?’ He was leaning right back in the chair now, his silver and blue tie somewhat askew, and he straightened his shoulders imperceptibly as he saw and recognized the look in her eyes. In a flash, she’d gone from pleasure to business.

  ‘About Jake Barnes,’ she said.

  Steven sighed, but nodded. One thing they’d always had in common, right from the start, was a strong work ethic and his response matched her abrupt change to the professional. ‘Right. You’re ready to bring Rollo into the equation?’

  Hillary nodded. ‘I think so, don’t you? We really do need to get this sorted out before you leave. I know I’ll have Donleavy’s backing come what may, but it’d still be better if we present him with a united front. And it’ll be fairer to Rollo, too,’ she added wryly. ‘Poor sod, he’s coming in today thinking that he knows what’s what, and that all he’s got to do is keep the ship on course and balance the budgets, when actually, there might be a big fat fly in the ointment.’

  ‘Have you any idea at all what Jake is playing at?’ Steven asked.

  Hillary shrugged and shook her head. ‘Not really.’

  For the past few months, she and Jimmy had been keeping a careful eye on their new recruit, ever since they’d discovered that the technically proficient dot com millionaire had been hacking into Hillary’s computer.

  And what they’d learned since had hardly been reassuring. He’d hired a private investigator, been in contact with a high-level fixer who provided documents and other sundry services to high-end criminals, and, just two nights ago, had met with an extremely dangerous enforcer for their local bad boy, and Thames Valley’s most wanted, Dale Medcalfe.

  ‘Whatever it is, it isn’t good,’ Hillary said, in classic understatement. ‘And it’s about time we tackled him, before things really get out of hand. I think we’ve given him enough rope to play with now.’

  ‘OK,’ Steven said, more than willing to go along with her judgement. ‘Just what are you hoping to get out him?’ he asked curiously.

  ‘Everything,’ Hillary said grimly.

  ‘And if it is something criminal?’ Steven said. ‘Something really criminal, I mean – something that we can’t fix internally. Won’t we have tipped our hand?’

  Hillary sighed. ‘Perhaps,’ she acknowledged slowly. ‘That’s always a risk, but the man’s already made so much money – legitimate money – that I just can’t see him wangling his way in here simply to make even more illegally. No, I have a feeling this is going to be something personal. I get the sense the boy’s on some sort of mission or crusade. But…’ She shrugged.

  Steven sighed. ‘We might end up having to arrest him nonetheless.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘The brass will have a hissy fit,’ he pointed out glumly.

  ‘I know.’

  Steven couldn’t help but grin at her flat, unimpressed tone. ‘Well, aren’t we the cavalier ones? I suppose, as a mere civilian, having to weather the fury of the powers-that-be no longer worries you.’

  Hillary thought briefly of Commander Marcus Donleavy, the shark in the grey suit, and laughed somewhat hollowly. ‘Yeah. Right! Well, there’s no point in putting it off. I’ll go and see if Jake’s in. If he is, I’ll take him down to my of
fice, and give you a bell.’

  ‘OK.’

  He watched her leave, not sure whether to laugh or cry. She’d refused to marry him, but had kissed him silly and was going to move into his house. And she might be about to drop a very nasty and smelly mess right in his lap, just when he needed to keep his mind clear for his new job.

  But that was Hillary Greene for you, he supposed.

  He had no idea what their future together might hold, but he doubted if boredom would feature in it much.

  As it turned out, all three of her team had arrived and were settling down in the small office in anticipation of Rollo Sale handing out their latest cold-case murder file. Wendy Turnbull, dressed like a Hell’s Angel in motorbike leathers, her eyes heavily lined in black, looked up and gave Hillary a happy smile. She always felt wired at the beginning of a new case.

  Jimmy Jessop also looked up at her – his grey hair thinning fast now – and shifted a shade uncomfortably on his chair. In the last few days or so his back had been giving him jip. He was closer to seventy than sixty, so he supposed he would have to accept that bits would start seizing up on him, or wearing out. Better that than dropping off, he supposed.

  There was nothing wrong with his eyes, though, and they sharpened perceptibly as he saw Hillary turn and look thoughtfully at the third person in the room.

  At thirty-three, Jake Barnes was older than most of the new recruits, who tended to be youngsters still trying to find their ideal career, or old-timers, like himself, who’d retired and then found themselves longing to return to the work place.

  Jake was a good-looking lad, tall, with green eyes, and was dressed in a suit that Jimmy suspected cost more than his old jalopy. And he looked surprised as Hillary said quietly, ‘Jake, can I have a word in my office?’

  ‘Course, guv,’ he said, getting up and reaching automatically for the mobile tablet that he carried with him everywhere.

  Hillary caught the old man’s eye and gave such a slight nod that Wendy didn’t even notice it. But Jimmy, who’d been keeping Jake under observation for the last month or so, watched the two of them leave with interest. Clearly things were going to come to a head. And he could only hope that whatever mess the youngster had got into, Hillary would be able to get him out of it.