The Calling of the Grave (12 page)

    'Getting
off?' he said as he climbed out.

    'It's
a long drive. You look rough. Everything all right?'

    Terry
seemed tired. The grazed bump on his head had started to scab over, making it
appear worse than before. He ground the heels of his hands into his already
reddened eyes.

    'Peachy.'

    'How
did it go with Simms?'

    'Simms?'
He looked startled, as though for a second he didn't know what I was talking
about. 'He's not about to put me up for a commendation, that's for sure.'

    'He's
blaming you?'

    'Of
course he is. You don't think he's going to take any flak himself, do you?'

    'But
he's SIO. It was his responsibility.'

    'Simms
will hang me out to dry if it takes some heat off him. And you think there
aren't people here who aren't dying to see the new boy from the Met taken down
a peg or two?'

    He
was right. I wondered if I should mention how I'd overheard Roper reporting
back to Simms. But it was only a suspicion, and Terry had enough to contend
with already.

    'Is
there anything I can do?'

    He
gave a bleak laugh. 'Only if you can wind back the clock.'

    I'd
never seen Terry like this. 'It's that bad?'

    He
made an unconvincing effort to shrug it off. 'Nah. I didn't get much sleep,
that's all. Is Sophie around?'

    'She
left last night.'

    'Last
night
? Why the hell didn't I know about it?'

    'I didn't
see her go either. I don't think she wanted to hang around. She feels pretty
bad about what happened.'

    'Yeah,
she's not the only one.'

    'It
wasn't her fault. In her position I'd have probably done the same.'

    Terry
looked at me: there was no friendliness in it. Suddenly it felt like I hardly
knew him. 'How come you're standing up for her all of a sudden?'

    'I'm
only saying—'

    'I
know what you're saying. The whole operation's gone pear- shaped and my neck's
on the block, but you're more concerned with looking out for Sophie bloody
Keller. But then I noticed the two of you were getting pretty friendly.'

    'What's
that supposed to mean?'

    'It
means—' He stopped himself. 'Forget it. Look, I've got to go. Say hello to
Kara.'

    He
went back to his car, slamming the door and accelerating away so quickly that
gravel sprayed over my legs. I stood there for a while, torn between anger and
bewilderment.

    But I
didn't worry about it for long. There was too much else going on in my own life
to dwell on Terry, and the events on Dartmoor were soon put behind me. Alice
seemed to be growing up more every time I turned my back, and Kara and I began
talking about giving her a brother or sister. Professionally, I was busier than
ever. The search might not have been a success, but my own role in it hadn't
hurt my profile. I found myself in demand with more police forces, and if I
occasionally wondered at my anticipation when the phone rang with news of
another mutilated or decomposing body . . . Well, I told myself that was
understandable. This was what I did for a living. I had to stay detached, and
who wouldn't be pleased that their career was going well?

    Then
came the mass grave in Bosnia. I went as part of an international team charged
with exhuming and, where possible, identifying the victims. It was a gruelling,
month-long trip, three days of which I spent feverish in bed from flu. I came
back half a stone lighter and chastened by our capacity for inhumanity on such
an industrial scale. I'd never been so glad to be home, and at first I put
Kara's quietness down to giving me space to adjust. It was only when I'd read
Alice a bedtime story on my first night back, as we sat with a bottle of wine
after dinner, that I realized it was more than that.

    'OK,
are you going to tell me what's wrong?' I asked.

    She'd
been staring into space for several minutes. It wasn't like her to be so
withdrawn, especially when we hadn't seen each other for weeks. 'Hmm? Oh,
sorry, I was miles away.'

    'I
know. What is it?'

    'Nothing.
Really, I'm just a bit preoccupied.' She smiled, trying to brush it off. 'Come
on, let's get the dishes cleared away.'

    'Kara
. . .'

    She
set down the plates with a sigh. 'Promise me you won't do anything.'

    'Why,
what's happened?'

    'Terry
Connors called round a few nights ago.'

    I
hadn't seen or spoken to him since Dartmoor. 'Terry? What for?'

    'He
said he was in London and thought he'd drop round to see you, but . . . Well, I
got the impression he already knew you were away.'

    I
felt something cold spread through me. 'Go on.'

    'There
was just something . . .
off
about him coming round like that. I could
smell he'd been drinking, but why didn't he phone first to make sure you were in?
I made him a coffee but he made me feel . . . uncomfortable.'

    'How
do you mean, uncomfortable?'

    Kara's
face had flushed. 'Do I have to spell it out?'

    I
realized I was gripping the edge of the table. I made myself let go. 'What did
he do?'

    'He
didn't do anything. It was just the way he acted. I told him he should leave
but . . .Well, he asked if I was sure that's what I wanted. He said ... he said
I didn't know what you got up to while you were away.' She picked up her wine
glass, then put it down again without drinking from it. 'Alice woke up then and
shouted downstairs asking if you were back. I was actually
relieved.
It
seemed to shake him up, and he left.'

    My
vision was starred as though I'd stood up too quickly, even though I hadn't
moved. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

    'You
were knee deep in a grave in eastern Europe. What good would that have done?
Besides, nothing actually
happened.'

    'Jesus!
He just came here and . . .'

    'David,
calm down.'

    'Calm
down
?' I pushed my seat back, unable to keep still any longer. 'What he
said about me ... It isn't true.'

    Kara
stood up and came over. She touched my face. 'I know that. Terry just thinks
everyone's like him.'

    'How
do you mean?'

    'You
must know what he's like. The affairs?'

    'Affairs?'
I repeated stupidly.

    She
gave me a quizzical smile. 'Seriously? You didn't realize? I don't know why
Deborah's stayed with him as long as she has. She told me she gave up hoping
he'd be faithful years ago; now she just wants him to be discreet. I got the
impression that's why Terry had to transfer out of London. He was having an
affair with someone he worked with, and it turned messy.'

    That
was news to me. But it explained the tension the last time the four of us had
gone out. Even I hadn't been able to miss that.

    'Why
didn't you say anything before?' I asked, putting my arms around her.

    'Because
it was none of our business, and I didn't want to make things awkward. Not when
you had to work with him.'

    
Not
any more.
Kara leaned back to look at my face.

    'Promise
me you won't do anything stupid.'

    'Like
what?'

    'Like
anything. Just let it go. Please? He's not worth wasting time on.' She slid her
hands around my lower back. 'And I really don't want to spend any more of your
first night back talking about Terry Connors.'

    Neither
did I. So we didn't.

    But I
couldn't forget about it altogether. Terry had gone to my home intending to
seduce my wife. If that wasn't bad enough, he'd tried to make her believe I'd
been unfaithful to her. Just thinking about it made me light-headed with anger,
but I told myself not to do anything for a few days, to give myself a chance to
cool down.

    I
lasted until the following afternoon.

    I was
easing myself back into work after the Balkans trip and had arranged to finish
early anyway. The plan was for me to collect Alice from school, but my fury at
Terry had been festering overnight. I stewed over it for a few hours before
phoning Kara at the hospital.

    'Sorry
about this, but can you pick Alice up later?'

    'I
suppose so. Why, has something come up?'

    I was
already regretting calling her. Kara's hours were part time and flexible, and
she often switched to help out colleagues. But this was our daughter, and I'd
only just got back from a trip. I should be focusing on what was important, not
charging off to confront someone like Terry Connors.

    'Look,
it doesn't matter. Forget it.'

    'No,
it's OK. I was only staying for a staff meeting anyway, so I'm glad of the
excuse. 'A wariness entered her voice. 'Why, what's happened?'

    'Nothing.
Let's keep things—'

    I was
about to say 'as they were', but there was a commotion in the background down
the line. I heard raised voices and the banging of heavy doors.

    'Sorry,
I'm needed,' she said in a rush. 'I'll collect Alice, you can explain why
later. Bye.'

    She
broke the connection before I could say anything. I lowered the phone, feeling
shallow. I made up my mind to call her back later and say I'd pick up Alice
after all. I left it half an hour but when I tried her line it was engaged. And
already I was starting to think about Terry again, letting a head of anger
build up against him. There didn't seem much point in bothering Kara when she
was obviously busy, and by now she'd probably made arrangements anyway.

    Instead
I phoned Terry.

    I
wasn't even sure he'd answer if he saw the call was from me. But he did. His voice
sounded as cocksure and breezy as ever. 'David! How're you doing?'

    'I
want to see you.'

    His
hesitation was only slight. 'Look, I'd love to meet up, but things are a bit
hectic right now. I'll give you a call when—'

    'Would
you rather I wait for you at your house?'

    I'd
no intention of involving his family, but I wasn't going to let him brush me
off. This time the pause was longer.

    'Something
you want to say?'

    There
was, but I wanted to do it in person. 'I can be in Exeter in a few hours. Name
a place.'

    'I
can save you the trip. I'm still in London. I'll even buy you a pint.' His tone
was condescending. 'It'll be just like old times.'

    I
willed myself not to lose my temper as I went to meet him. He'd suggested a pub
in Soho, and when I walked in I saw why. It was obviously a police watering
hole: most of the clientele had the indefinable swagger of off-duty officers.
The place was decorated for Christmas, the same faded streamers and baubles
they'd obviously been dusting off for years. Terry was at the bar, laughing
with a group of men. He excused himself when I went in. The usual smile was on
his face, but his eyes were watchful.

    'Want
a drink?'

    'No
thanks.'

    'Please
yourself.' Glass in hand, he propped himself comfortably against a table. 'So.
Where's the fire?'

    'Stay
away from Kara.'

    'What
are you talking about?'

    'You
know what I'm talking about. I don't want you at my home again.'

    He
was still smiling, but a flush spread up from his neck. 'Whoa, hang on a
minute. I don't know what she's said but I didn't know you were away—'

    'Yes,
you did. The mass grave was all over the news; it didn't take a genius to work
out I'd be over there. That's why you didn't phone first, because then you
wouldn't have an excuse to go round.'