‘Only to get to you. I swear he thinks you’re the only detective we’ve got.’
‘I hope so,’ she said. This was what she’d signed up to do.
‘Okay, keep me informed. And by the way, Detective Constable Wood did a very nice job of accepting the award on your behalf.’
She smiled her understanding before turning and heading away. She wasn’t sure what she’d done to get off so lightly, but she was getting out of dodge before her boss had time to change his mind.
‘You know, Stone,’ he said as she reached the door.
Oh, here it came. She should have known better.
‘I wasn’t the only one who wanted to see you accept that award tonight,’ he went on.
She turned back to wait for clarity, but her boss had already picked up his phone. She closed the door quietly behind her and headed down the stairs.
* * *
His words were forgotten as she heard a commotion in the foyer before she’d even reached the doors. She also heard a voice she recognised shouting at the top of its lungs.
She braced herself before entering.
Right enough, the figure of Martha Stout stood cuffed before the custody sergeant, flanked by two officers.
‘Well, if it ain’t fucking Chief Sow,’ she spat Kim’s way.
‘Hey, Martha, here again?’ Kim asked, glancing outside. Her Uber hadn’t yet arrived.
One of the arresting officers gave Martha a warning for her language, but Kim wasn’t bothered. Martha called every male officer pig and every female officer sow. Kim had the honour of being called Chief Sow.
‘I ain’t fucking talking to none of these pigs,’ she shouted at Kim.
‘Not my problem, Martha – I’m off home,’ Kim said, feeling a stab of sympathy for whoever would have the pleasure of trying to interview the insufferable woman. There was nothing attractive about Martha Stout either inside or out.
At fifty-eight years of age, she was five feet five inches of pure venom. Her life-beaten face added another ten years along with the permanent scowl that used every one of her facial features. Her decayed teeth were jagged edges that wouldn’t hit chocolate if she bit into a Curly Wurly.
She was in tattered and dirty jeans and wellington boots and a stained wax jacket. Kim was sure beneath that was the grimy grey sweatshirt she always wore. Her fingernails held more dirt than an allotment, and she’d never used deodorant a day in her life.
Since Kim had last seen her, she appeared to have abandoned the fight with her hair dye and now grey, brittle hair was held in a ponytail high on the back of her head.
Not one thing about the woman’s appearance offended Kim. It was the inside that mattered… but that was just as ugly. Martha hated everyone except her two sons and one daughter.
‘I’d love to chat, but my lift’s here,’ Kim said, moving past.
‘Yeah, fuck off, Chief Sow.’
Kim couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips as she left the building.
She had no clue why Martha had been brought in this time, but she was glad it wasn’t going to be her problem.
Five
It was two minutes to seven when Kim entered the squad room the next morning, and she wasn’t surprised to see her whole team already assembled for the briefing.
She’d have been earlier herself if she hadn’t had to drop Barney off at Charlie’s. Her neighbour was taking her dog to a couple of National Trust sites for coffee and cake. It was a hard fact to swallow that her dog went more places than she did, but he was living his best life, and for that she was grateful.
Her award stared at her from the edge of Stacey’s desk.
‘Thanks for collecting that, Stace,’ Kim said, picking up the glass sculpture and placing it on her own desk in the Bowl before coming back out into the main room.
