a headache,’ I said, taking off my coat and hanging it on the rack by the door, ‘but it’s worn off now.’
I sat down and turned on the screen at my workstation, put in my user number and password and waited for it to go through the checks before I could start working. As usual it took an age. ‘I’m just going to go and see someone,’ I said to Kate, who was now gazing out of the window, deep in thought.
‘Right,’ she said.
Frosty was in his office, the door half-open. I knocked and pushed it a little. ‘Are you mad busy?’ I asked.
He looked up from the screen. ‘Never too busy to see you,’ he said. ‘Come and sit down.’
I slid into the chair opposite his desk.
‘I just met a friend of yours,’ I said.
‘Oh, yes?’
‘Sam Everett.’
Frost laughed. ‘I’ve known Sam since he was tiny.’
‘You know he’s interested in the bodies,’ I said. ‘He’s trying to get his editor to make a bigger story out of it.’
‘So what did you tell him?’
‘Nothing,’ I said quickly. ‘There’s nothing I can tell him, is there? Shouldn’t he be talking to Media Services, not me?’
‘It’s the same old problem, though, I’m afraid. Media Services have their own agenda, and I’m sorry to say that our bodies aren’t on it.’
Our bodies? Was he starting to take an interest in this now? A serious interest?
‘Did you know I found the latest one?’
He sat forward then. ‘No, I didn’t know.’
‘It was next door to my house. It was what got me started on all this.’
‘Oh, Annabel. That’s rough. Are you OK?’
He meant it. ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I think so. The smell – it stays with you, doesn’t it?’
‘It does,’ he said. ‘My first body – I was eighteen, two weeks into my initial stint on patrol as a probationer. Been trying to prepare for it, but you can never do that, not really. I went to this house and the neighbours said they’d not seen this old lady for three weeks. I could smell it before I got to the back door. When I went in – well, it was bad. She was lying on her bed, and when they finally moved the body her scalp was stuck to the headboard and came away from the skull. I threw up in the back garden.’
‘I didn’t throw up. Maybe it would have been better if I had. I just had lots of showers. And I had to bath the cat, she’d been rolling in it.’
‘Yuck.’
‘Look,’ I said. ‘Do you think they are going to start taking this seriously? That’s the twenty-fourth. The next one will be along soon. There are lots of people out there, waiting for us to find them, you know that, don’t you?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to indicate that we’re going to find any more.’
I bit my lip. This was so frustrating – just a moment ago I’d thought he was on my side, more than any of them. The others didn’t get it, but I’d thought he did. He knew that this was a problem that wouldn’t go away.
‘You know that’s not right,’ I said, ‘don’t you?’
He looked me straight in the eye. ‘If I get a chance today I’ll have another go at talking to someone upstairs. OK?’
By ‘someone upstairs’ he meant someone in the management corridor – the area commander or one of the chief inspectors. They’d all seen my presentation, though, at the tactical meeting. They all had the data. If that hadn’t convinced them, nothing would.
‘Leave it with me,’ he said, in a tone that suggested dismissal.
‘Alright,’ I said. ‘Thanks.’
I got up to leave. He was already back at his computer and I wondered if he would even remember in five minutes’ time that I’d visited.
On the bus going home I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cold window. I’d stayed at work longer than usual, trying to make up for my missing hours this morning. The tactical assessment was behind schedule but that wasn’t completely my fault; a systems failure at headquarters had left the main database interrogation software temporarily unavailable.
It had been a long, shattering day and my headache was coming back. To make it even worse, I’d just been getting on the bus, rummaging around in my bag for the Park and Ride ticket that I seemed to have inexplicably mislaid, when my mobile phone rang. For a moment I thought that it might be Sam Everett again and I was