Page 26 of Child's Play

‘What’re you doing?’

‘Going home,’ she said, pointing to the phone. ‘The boss just said—’

‘Forget what the boss just said. We’ve got a dead body and three active lines of enquiry. You really think the boss wants you to go home?’

Stacey was confused. ‘But why would she tell me to go, then?’

‘Cos it’s the end of your shift. You ain’t getting paid for any more hours.’

Stacey stood, coat and bag in hand, feeling ridiculous, unsure what to do.

Dawson studied her for a second or two before speaking.

‘This is where you get to decide what kind of copper you want to be. Commit or don’t commit but make your choice and stick to it.’

Stacey smiled at the bittersweet memory. She remembered thinking what an arrogant knob he was and how that opinion had changed as they’d become friends.

And he’d been right of course. Two hours later when the boss and Bryant had returned to the squad room there’d been a silent nod of acknowledgment in her direction.

Dawson’s advice of commit or don’t had served her well, and she’d learned to read the signs. If the boss was going home, they were all going home.

Except, she didn’t want to go home, she realised, as she headed down the stairs, right into the mêlée of uniform shift changeover.

She dodged around and walked in between mates and colleagues on shift handover, either catching up or relaying a particular incident that had happened throughout the day. An arrest, an Asbo, a hands-on scuffle.

She finally found herself at the front reception and the automatic doors as two more squad cars pulled up.

She reached the end of the car park and hesitated.

If she turned left and stayed on this side of the road, the bus would take her to her small flat in Dudley, a half mile from her mum’s house.

If she turned right and crossed the road, the bus would take her to Devon’s flat, where she’d been spending most of her time.

She thought about the text message still unanswered on her phone.

Commit or don’t commit but choose now, she heard again.

She took a step forward and turned left.

Nineteen

Kim pressed the play button on her iPod and ‘Der Ring des Nibelungen’ filled the garage. The sound of Wagner’s tuba wafted around her combining the tonal elements of the French horn and the trombone.

Since returning home she’d washed, ironed, fed the dog and vacuumed. Given her own way she’d have still been at work delving deeper into the life of Belinda Evans, but she’d had the memo.

So, here she was, home before dark, relaxing.

The silent argument in her head raged as Barney took his place by the door to the kitchen.

There’s a body in the morgue.

There’s always a body in the morgue.

You have a duty of care.

My team are all adults.

But they may try to hide it.