The North Face of the Heart - Dolores Redondo Page 0,84

and Charbou burst out laughing.

Amaia still couldn’t see the others’ faces. The darkness was no longer complete, for the emergency exit signs in the hallway now cast a feeble red light.

“Now, hold on,” Charbou gasped, once he’d finally gotten his mirth under control. “You mean you can’t stand the sound of her voice, say, or the way she slurps her coffee? Or do you really detest her?”

Johnson took a couple of seconds. “I’d like to think that I don’t really detest anyone—though I do, actually. Pedophiles, for example, and serial killers.” A pause. “I can’t stand Tucker because she’s disloyal.”

Amaia considered that. “Loyalty’s something abstract for me, at least in the way you’re putting it. I understand devotion to family, to friends, but this is the first time I’ve worked on a team like this. I understand how important it is to be absolutely honest and keep your word, but I’ve never felt compelled to identify unconditionally with a group.”

Johnson responded, “You think you don’t know much about it, but in the few hours you’ve been in this unit, you’ve shown more loyalty than Tucker has in her whole life. She phoned Galveston, remember, even though Dupree told her he was going to call the police chief after our conference call.” He snorted. “Tucker! Believe me, if the guys over at the National Hurricane Center knew her, they’d have named this one after her. She’s as unstoppable and just as destructive. That sort of disloyalty undermines an investigation; she gets out ahead of the group so she can scoop up the credit.

“Her meddling in Galveston got to Captain Reed and made him suspicious. When we called, he was already on the defensive, which maybe made him less forthright than he would have been. When it comes right down to it, I just can’t stand her! She waited until the end of the conference call to say Nelson’s behavior had raised her suspicions—why didn’t she share that earlier, so the whole group could look into it? I know she’s smart. Everything she does is deliberate; there’s a calculation behind every move she makes. Tucker’s an unprincipled schemer, and I can tell you right now, the carefully drafted report she’s going to turn in will emphasize which ideas, discoveries, and suggestions came from her. She’s disloyal to Dupree, and she has no allegiance to the unit.”

Amaia nodded, thinking. “And Emerson?”

She heard Johnson exhale loudly. She was sure he was shaking his head. “Emerson’s a slimeball and not too bright, but at least he knows how to work on a team. Knows he’s not as smart as Tucker and that unless he follows her line, he’ll be in over his head. That’s why he does her dirty work. Emerson’s a follower. He’s not particularly original or insightful, but at least he’s loyal.”

Amaia considered that. “You know Dupree. Why does he keep her on the team?”

“All Dupree cares about is the investigation, and Tucker is really talented, in her own way. He doesn’t give a shit about her character.” Johnson paused and then added woefully, “Tucker’s planning to walk right over him, and he doesn’t seem to give a damn.”

“You think Tucker wants to take Dupree’s job?”

Johnson’s laugh was more of a growl, low and bitter. “What she wants is one thing; what she’s capable of doing is another. Tucker is a superb investigator, but she doesn’t compare to Dupree. He’s a needle in the haystack. You run into an agent like Dupree once every fifteen, maybe twenty years. He’s on a different level. Don’t get me wrong, Salazar, I know I’m no needle. But I’m not a brownnoser either.”

Amaia accepted that. Under cover of the deeply disquieting darkness, she pushed further. “What do you think the boss is up to now? You should have seen him and Bull conspiring when they thought nobody was looking.”

“Assistant Inspector Salazar, there’s one thing you need to know about Dupree: he’s constantly thinking about the big picture. He’s one step ahead, maybe a whole day ahead. That’s why he always seems worried and distracted. He’s Atlas with the fucking world on his shoulders.”

“He doesn’t smile much,” Charbou acknowledged. “That’s for sure.”

“He’s the serious kind, but I will admit he’s been particularly remote since we got here.”

Amaia looked toward Charbou, still cloaked in darkness. “And you, Bill? Do you know what your partner’s up to? Maybe I’m wrong, but when they were introduced at the police station, I had the distinct impression they knew one another.”

“Oh, no, Assistant

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