‘How’s everything with the . . .’ Greaves ran fluttering fingertips above his chest. ‘After the accident that is.’
Valentine wanted to correct him: he was stabbed in the heart and it was no accident. ‘Fine, sir. All mended now.’
‘Good, glad to hear it. You gave us all a bit of a fright there for a little while.’
The DI accepted the concern graciously, but he knew any fright felt by Greaves or the super related only to the force’s clear-up rates. If either of them truly valued his service to the force, and not just his record, then they would have left him to semi-retirement at the training college in Tulliallan. The thought mixed with Clare’s earlier comments, and even earlier remarks along similar lines, and hardened Valentine’s resolve.
‘Come in then, Bob. We need to talk about the boys-in-the-barrel case,’ said CS Martin.
Valentine felt pounced upon by his senior officers; he tried to readjust his temperament towards open-mindedness because he knew that was the only way he was going to get through the coming encounter. It was unusual, with the station’s current workload, to see the chief super taking an overt interest in any one case, but to see the chief constable deigning to grace the below-stairs ranks with his presence was close to a shock.
The chief constable positioned himself behind CS Martin’s desk. For a brief, comical moment Martin stood beside him looking clueless, and then something like initiative sparked behind her eyes as she turned to Valentine and edged her backside on to the corner of the desk.
‘Quite an unusual occurrence,’ said the chief. ‘Can’t remember another one like it.’
Valentine nodded. ‘It’s certainly the worst I’ve seen.’
He nodded sagely. ‘Marion and myself have been discussing . . . things.’
‘Things, sir?’
‘We’re both of the opinion that this is likely to be a spotlight case.’
The term was more police jargon that grated with Valentine. It meant a case with a lot of media interest – or, to be more specific, a lot of media interference and even more interference from the top ranks.
‘I’m sure the human element will be exploited by the press in due course.’
‘Indeed. It’s important that we’re ready for that eventuality when it raises its head.’
He had dealt with prying journalists in the past and it did not frighten him. His concern was more for the families of the victims when they identified the boys; press intrusion had a way of isolating the worst-affected individuals and making the experience as unpleasant as possible for them.
‘Sir, my team is well versed in the tricks of the press. You have nothing to fear there.’
Greaves turned his gaze to Martin and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers over the brightly polished buttons on his chest.
‘Bob, the chief constable has some concerns relating to past events with the press on your squad.’
Valentine was blindsided. He knew at once what she was referring to, but he didn’t expect that to be cast up now, or used as something to attack him with. There was an angle being worked, but the DI couldn’t see it.
‘Rossi is back working in the family ice-cream business now. I hardly see how he’s relevant to my current investigation.’
‘Calm down, Bob,’ said CS Martin, ‘we’re just making sure all the bases are covered.’
Valentine didn’t get a chance to answer, adding a couple of beeps to his racing pulse.
‘We need to make you aware how sensitive the issue is, Bob, that’s all,’ said Greaves.
The DI took a deep breath. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘We have to be sure that everything is shipshape and Bristol fashion on your squad, if you know what I mean.’
‘You’ve made me aware of your concerns, sir, but I really do not believe it’s an issue.’
‘You see, Bob, that kind of response could be deemed complacency by some people – or worse, hubris.’
‘The only pride I have is for the job. If I can make a point here, whilst we’re harking back to the events of a couple of years ago, it was me who uncovered Rossi’s less-than-wholesome relationship with the press, and it was me that showed him the door pending the full internal investigation. I took no chances, and I’m quite sure I’d do the same again.’
The chief constable unlaced his fingers and sprang forward in his chair. He seemed to be assessing Valentine’s reaction through slitted eyes, but there was no way of telling what was going on behind the inscrutable gaze. ‘OK, Bob. If you tell me your team is watertight, I’ll respect your integrity.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘I’ll say this though – you and I both know the kind of attention this case is going to attract from all areas of the media, and I don’t just mean the Ayrshire Post and a few struggling nationals. This case has the potential to be an international sensation.’
Valentine winced at the chief constable’s word choice. ‘I understand.’