*
While Ryan drove the short distance to Victor Swann’s former residence, Frank Phillips struggled to concentrate on the computer screen at his desk at the new CID Headquarters. Everything was horribly new, from the ultra-modern glass frontage to the carpet tiles and white-washed paint. It still smelled new, too, but that would change soon enough. Offices like these were not built to last, not like the fine Victorian buildings in the city centre that had withstood over a century of wind and rain. The creamy-white rendered walls would quickly fade to murky-grey and damp spots would develop on the ceiling tiles. Peculiar stains and scuff marks would appear overnight and, instead of paint, the corridors would begin to smell of tuna casserole and drains. As far as Phillips was concerned, all would be right with the world again.
“You should try one of these smoothies from the juice bar.”
Detective Constable Jack Lowerson strolled across the open-plan office to join him, draining the last of a bright pink concoction from an eco-friendly, recyclable plastic container in the shape of a miniature milk bottle. Phillips spun around in his ergonomic desk chair and surveyed the young man with incredulity.
“Juice bar? Lad, you might as well ask me to scale Everest. Give me a cup of milky tea and a few digestives any day of the week.”
Lowerson grinned, displaying a row of freshly whitened teeth.
“Did you know, the bloke who used to run the pie van outside the old offices has moved over here with us? He’s tripled his business because all the other office buildings want a piece of the action.”
Phillips scowled.
“Probably because all they’ve been getting is vegetable juice and quinoa until now. The pie van was one of our best-kept secrets,” he grumbled. “I’ll have to queue up to get a corned beef pasty, now.”
Lowerson shrugged inside his trendy Air Force blue suit.
“Heard anything from Ryan?”
“He’s reclassified the body he found at Cragside. Apparently, the victim’s locker was broken into sometime during the night.”
Lowerson didn’t miss the fact that Swann was now being referred to as a ‘victim’.
“Why would anybody want to hurt a harmless old man?”
Phillips linked his fingers across his paunch.
“You should know by now, there’s no such thing as ‘harmless’.”
Lowerson nodded, then licked his lips.
“Ah, I wanted to ask how MacKenzie’s getting on? I don’t want to be a nuisance, if she’d rather be left alone.”
Phillips looked away and cleared his throat.
“Aye, she’ll be grand.”
Jack might have been a bit green around the edges but he still recognised a dodge when he heard one. Denise MacKenzie had, after all, been the one to teach him how to see beneath the surface to the bones of a case and to read a person’s body language rather than just the words they said. For Phillips to brush him off like that, things must be bad.
He laid a hand on the older man’s shoulder.
“It’s only been a few weeks,” he said quietly. “She just needs more time.”
In the silence that followed, they wondered whether time would ever bring back the woman they loved, in their different ways.
*
Anna decided to take a break from Northumbrian history and drive into the city. The morning’s sunshine had given way to an overcast afternoon and rainclouds now gathered over Newcastle, threatening a downpour later in the day. The house MacKenzie shared with Phillips was in a cul-de-sac on an estate in Kingston Park. The area was well-kept, with fresh paint on the doors and neatly trimmed front gardens. Children played out in the street under the watchful eye of their parents and she could hear an ice-cream van booming out a tinny rendition of Greensleeves somewhere nearby. Anna scanned the houses and pulled up at the kerb outside one with a green door. She rested her hands on the steering wheel for a moment before reaching across to retrieve a bouquet of flowers sitting on the passenger seat, then slammed out of the car.
When MacKenzie heard the doorbell ringing, she nearly dropped the kettle of boiling water she held in her hand.
She stood, frozen for a moment, until the sound came again.
Buzz, buzz, buzz.
The kettle clattered onto the countertop and she reached for one of the carving knives from a wooden block, remembering another time when she’d answered the front door without thinking and without protecting herself. It had nearly cost her life.
She edged into the hallway and waited.
Buzzzzzz.
“Hello! Denise, are you in there? It’s me, Anna!”
MacKenzie swiped away tears of relief and hid the knife inside the pocket of her coat, which hung from the peg in the hallway. She looked down at the old pyjamas she wore and thought seriously about not answering the door.
“Come on, Denise! I’m desperate for the loo!”
Outside, Anna didn’t flinch at the white lie and was pleased when she heard the tread of footsteps, followed by the sound of several locks unbolting.
She had a big smile in place when the door finally opened. It didn’t falter an inch, even when she saw how thin her friend had become, or how dark the shadows were beneath her eyes.
Anna enveloped Denise in a warm hug.
“It’s wonderful to see you,” she said, feeling the sharp edges of her ribs through the thick cotton pyjamas.
MacKenzie let herself be held and enjoyed the scent of fresh flowers Anna had brought with her.
“Come in,” she murmured. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting company.”
Once inside, Anna dutifully went to the bathroom, allowing MacKenzie a few precious minutes to run a brush through her hair and clear away the breakfast paraphernalia she still hadn’t managed to tidy away.
She was staring at the washing-up liquid when Anna stepped back into the kitchen and summed up the situation at once.
“You need to get out of the house,” she said, gently.
MacKenzie turned to her with wild green eyes that were suddenly spitting with anger.
“How would you know what I need?” she snarled, letting the washing-up bottle slip from her fingers into the sink. “You have no idea how I feel, cooped up in here all day…or how I feel when I’m out there. You waltz in here, with your perfect life—”
“That’s enough.”
Anna’s voice cracked like a whip and MacKenzie was taken aback by the hard tone, so seldom used.
“I know all about loss, about suffering,” Anna bit out. “I lost my entire family, or did you forget?”
She moved further into the kitchen until she stood in front of her friend, eye-to-eye.
“I remember the fear I felt when Steven Walker drugged me, tied me up and sat above me with a dagger in his hands. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes, the madness.”