“I honestly don’t know. It could be a weird coincidence. Or, on the other hand, someone could be fucking with us.”
“But how? Why?”
“I’ve pissed off a lot of people. Anyone could look into the high-profile cases I’ve worked on over the years.”
But the words felt like a lie. Swann wasn’t living in Lincoln when the first child, Jenny, was taken. He came to the UK to consult on the case. Elea cleared her throat, pushing her emotions down. She wouldn’t cry. Not today.
“Well, then,” she said, picking her bag up from the footwell, “we’d better get to work.”
Chapter 5
Elea strode into the serious-crime-team office, her head held high. She’d been in many since she first became a detective at the age of twenty-three. They all had the same sense of urgency amid the chaos of phones ringing, printers humming, and stained cups littering each desk. They all carried the same aroma of coffee and takeaway food.
Uniformed officers mixed with detectives as updates were brought in. It was a high-pressure environment, with officers so immersed in their work that they didn’t notice the two of them arrive straight away. The office was open plan, well-lit from the wall of windows accommodating the rays of feeble January sun. Elea cast her gaze in turn over the whiteboards outlining each missing girl’s case, all under the heading of “Operation Turnstile.” The name held no relevance, but this was a turning point for her. She watched the officers interact, appreciating the sense of camaraderie within the team. A few heads glanced upwards, but Elea didn’t have time for introductions.
“Is this fishbowl your office?” she said to Swann, before walking ahead of him. It was an office within an office, and she didn’t like it all that much. “What is it with you English and your need for transparency?” She glanced around Swann’s workspace. “How can you bang your head against your desk if you’re constantly in view?”
Swann smiled. “Some of us don’t need to resort to self-harm.”
“Bully for you.” Elea picked up a framed family photo from Swann’s desk, taking in the image of domestic bliss before putting it down again. Alice had given up begging her to grant Swann a divorce.
“I was about to introduce you to the team,” he said, as Elea dropped her bag on his desk.
“Why?” She frowned. “I know all I need to know about them.”
“But you’ve only just walked in.” Swann shrugged off his coat, his face creased in confusion. It seemed he’d forgotten about their old late-night phone calls as he’d discussed each member of his team. That was back in the days before Alice voiced her disapproval. Elea could hardly blame her, given that Swann spent most of his time at work.
She stood at the window blinds. “That bearded guy with the grumpy face. That’s your sergeant, Ray Davies, and he hates his job. He’s coasting, doing what it takes to get through each day.” She pointed at the young black man standing at a printer. He was wearing a similar shirt and tie to Swann, details not lost on Elea. “That’s Jamal Jones. He looks up to you, sees you as a father figure. Possibly bullied as a kid.”
Her glance fell on a curvy middle-aged woman who blew in through the door, glasses steamed, with bags in her hands and snow on the shoulders of her bright-red coat. Flapping the snow from her mac, she heartily apologised for being late.
“Ah,” Elea stated. “That’s Ness. A good soul. The mother hen. You excuse her tardiness because she keeps the team in line better than your sergeant ever could. How am I doing?”
“Not bad.” Swann watched as he took in Elea’s assessment of her team.
“Where’s your DI? Ralph Banbridge, isn’t it?”
“He left, three weeks ago.”
“Hmm, well, given that you haven’t phoned me lately, I wouldn’t know.” Elea didn’t wait for a response as she pointed at a dark-haired woman in the corner of the room. “That must be DC Kelly Maxwell. Bit of a chip on her shoulder.” Elea tilted her head to one side. “And I’m guessing she fancies that fella over there...” She paused to think. “What’s his name now? Evans. That’s it. DC Ollie Evans. But she’ll never date him. She’s way out of his league.” But there was one member of the team she hadn’t counted on. She didn’t see him until he knocked at the door, paperwork in hand. Her eyes widened as he walked in.Shit!
“Boss, I took a phone call from—” His words fell away as he stared at Elea. “Um...” He closed his eyes, took a breath. “Jade from social care. She was returning your call. She said she’s on the road today, but she gave me her mobile number. I’ll...” His eyes flicked upwards towards Elea, and a rush of blood rose to his cheeks. “I’ll leave it here.” He turned on his heels and left without delay.
Swann gave Elea a measured stare. “Why don’t you finish your assessment, while you’re pulling my team apart. What about our new DI, Mitch Harding? Seems you’ve had quite the effect.”
“Huh?” Backing away from the window, Elea cleared her throat. “I need a log-in. For the computer. You said you sorted it?”
But Swann wasn’t about to let the subject drop. “It didn’t take you long.”
Elea couldn’t bear to hear the disappointment in his voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She immediately regretted bringing up the subject of his staff. She couldn’t help but read the room. She’d been working too long in the police to be any other way. But Swann was good at reading people, too. Elea closed each blind in turn.
“Did you set it up beforehand?” he continued. “Do it to piss me off? Because I’ve told you, Elea, I don’t play those games anymore.”
There was no point in lying. “I met him in the hotel bar. He said he worked in security. I didn’t know who he was.”
“And what does he think you do? Because he looked pretty shocked to see you here.”
“Milkman.” Elea’s mouth twitched at the memory. “Or should it be milk person?”
