Blood in Grandpont (DI Susan Holden 2)

Fox didn’t answer immediately. He was looking intently into his glass, as if within its contents he might find the elusive answer to all things temporal and eternal. Or, at least, something intelligent and helpful to say. Lawson’s and Wilson’s concern, and his own too, was not merely about her suspension, but it was also about the death of Karen Pointer. It seemed that he had been just about the last person in the station to know about Holden and Pointer’s relationship, and he knew he ought to say something, but he could think only of the obvious things like he was really sorry or how they were all thinking of her back at the station, but these sounded bloody feeble when he rehearsed them in his head. Perhaps sympathy always feels forced and inadequate to the person expressing it. But whatever, that wasn’t why he had come.

‘They’re fine,’ he said finally. Although it wasn’t entirely true.

Holden took a sip at her whisky. ‘Anyway, I’ll be back before you know it.’

‘Of course you will, Guv.’ But neither of them was convinced. ‘I want you to know that I’m on your side, Guv.’ He had meant to work his way gently into this conversation, but he found that sort of thing difficult. The crucial thing was to get it said, to get it out there on the table. ‘Lucy Tull’s death was an accident,’ he insisted, and he brought his left hand down heavily on the table to emphasize his point. ‘Hell, it could just as easily have been you falling over that balcony, couldn’t it? In fact, it was a case of either you or her, and thank God it was her.’

Holden looked down at her glass, and took another, deeper sip, taking refuge in it from the jumble of her thoughts, and in particular the one thought that wouldn’t go away – that it might have been better if it had been her. That way, she too could have embraced oblivion or whatever it was that awaited people after death. At least she and Karen would have been there together.

‘There’s something else you need to know, Guv.’ There, he had said it. Started the ball rolling. That was the hardest bit. That’s what he told himself, though he didn’t believe it. Soon he would get to the end of telling her, and then he could leave.

Holden was looking at him. Her face was etched with pain and tiredness and grief, but overlaying it all was a look of resignation of such awfulness that Fox suddenly felt terribly afraid for her.

‘Well, tell me then!’ she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper, ‘Don’t keep me in suspense.’

‘It’s to do with Karen Pointer,’ he said. ‘We thought you should know. Her inquest is next week, but in view of everything we felt you should know first. Before it becomes public knowledge.’

He picked up his glass, and took another slug of whisky, in the hope that it might help. ‘Someone filmed her death,’ he said quietly.

‘What?’ Fox had seen plenty of people in shock, and had had to pass on the worst kind of news to people, but rarely had he seen blood disappear from a person’s face with quite such dramatic speed. ‘What are you talking about?’

Fox swallowed. He would tell it how it was, stick to the basic facts, and no more. Then he would go. ‘There’s a block of flats adjacent to Karen’s block. It overlooks the canal like hers. It looks pretty much like her block, actually. A woman was out on her balcony. It’s near enough the same height as Karen’s, so she had a good view of what happened. And when she realized something was going on, she used her mobile phone to film it. She got a ten second video clip. Not of the precise moment of death, I should say, but of the struggle just before it.’

‘So, has she sold it to the media? Is it going to appear on the six o’clock news?’

‘No, we’re holding it as evidence. But I guess we’re lucky she didn’t just post it on YouTube.’

‘Christ!’

‘Well, we are fortunate at the moment, but in the future who knows.’

‘So it shows them struggling on the balcony, does it?’

Fox hesitated, and when he did reply it was only a signal word. ‘Mostly.’

‘Mostly!’ Holden’s response exploded across the gap between them with such force that Fox flinched backwards. ‘What the hell do you mean by “mostly”?’

Fox leant confidentially forward. Oddly, the burst of temper encouraged him. It was more like the woman he knew. Tough, direct, no bloody nonsense. ‘The neighbour heard a lot of shouting initially. She was on her balcony, and was just finishing her fag, when she heard all this noise. Really wild, scary shouting she said it was. And the next moment a woman came out on the balcony. That was Lucy. And then moments later another woman – Karen – came out, and she was doing most of the shouting, it seemed.’

‘What do you expect?’ Holden was on her feet now, and her voice was raised, almost shouting in sympathy. ‘Karen was probably petrified. She was trying to scare Lucy. She knew she was the killer.’

Fox held up his hand, and held it there as he waited for Holden to calm down. He hadn’t finished yet. ‘Karen had a knife in her hand,’ he said simply.

‘What? Karen?’

‘Yes, Karen.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘It’s on the film. There’s no doubt at all. Karen had a knife in her hand when she came on to the balcony. And then she attacked Lucy with it.’ He paused again, but this time there was no question or interruption from Holden. ‘She actually caught Lucy with it, a gash across the lower left forearm, but after that the knife was dropped or got knocked out of her hand, and anyway when the film cut out after ten seconds, the two of them were struggling hand to hand, and Karen was being pressed back against the wall. According to the witness, she fell to her death only seconds later. The witness then rang 999, before heading for the lift, to try and come down and help. She’s a bit arthritic so running down the stairs wasn’t an option. It was her I nearly knocked over when I ran to come and help you.’

‘It was self-protection.’ Holden was still standing up, and she was lecturing Fox loudly, her right hand in the air, emphasizing her point of view. ‘Don’t you see, Karen knew that Lucy was the killer. She had worked it out. She left me a message on my mobile. She must have been scared witless. So she took the knife out of her butcher’s block to defend herself. Don’t you see?’

‘Of course I do.’ Fox tried to sound calm and logical, but underneath he had gone to pieces. ‘But it’s not my view that counts.’

Holden strode across to the side door that led to the garden. She banged her forehead against it with such force that Fox stood up in alarm.