Perfect Death. Helen FieldsЧитать онлайн книгу.
she’d whispered, opening the door for him, and closing it again before he’d had a chance to turn around and say goodbye.
Callanach had been trying to get five minutes with Ava all day. It was hard getting used to her being so elusive. The days of wandering into her office and expecting her to be available to talk theories or Police Scotland politics had disappeared with her promotion. He’d left two messages on her voicemail then been reduced to emailing her.
Eventually, late Friday afternoon, she appeared at his office door.
‘You busy?’ she asked.
‘What’s the right answer?’ he replied, closing his laptop.
‘Dim sum,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking about it most of the day. I think dim sum may be the only thing that will make this crappy week feel marginally less awful.’
‘Get your coat,’ Callanach said.
‘I’m not sure that’s how you’re supposed to speak to a senior officer,’ Ava said over her shoulder as she walked away. Ten minutes later they met on the street, both electing to abandon their cars for the evening in favour of alcohol. ‘I’ve called a cab,’ Ava said, ‘and booked a table at the Cantonese restaurant in Abercromby Place.’
‘You did all that while I was putting on my coat?’ Callanach asked. The cab pulled up as they were talking.
‘I might have already booked the table before I came to find you,’ Ava said as she climbed in.
‘Almost as if you knew I’d have no plans on a Friday night,’ Callanach muttered as Ava told the driver where they were going.
‘Don’t be over-sensitive,’ she said turning back to Callanach. ‘I had a shortlist of five people I was considering inviting to dinner. I figured at least one would be free.’
‘Now I wish I’d played a bit harder to get,’ Callanach laughed.
‘Date night is it?’ the cabbie interjected. ‘Me and the missus used to do that every Friday ’til I got this job. It’s not the same trying to be romantic on a Tuesday evening. You two married?’
Ava looked at Callanach, opened her mouth to answer and ended up spluttering helpless laughter instead.
‘Actually, the lady’s my boss,’ Callanach said.
‘Pretty much the same as being married then,’ the cabbie winked. Five minutes later, he pulled the cab over and they climbed out. ‘You’d make a nice looking couple though, maybe you should think about it. You two have a nice evening,’ he said, pulling away.
Ava stared after the car, hands on hips. ‘Do you ever go anywhere without people telling you how good looking you are?’ she asked.
‘That was directed at you, too,’ Callanach responded. ‘Can we please go and eat now?’
‘I wish I hadn’t tipped him,’ she said.
‘You really can’t just take it as a compliment?’ Callanach grinned.
‘What, someone thinking we’re married? If I didn’t need a drink before, I certainly do now. You’re buying, by the way, because I know how painful the next hour’s going to be with the waitresses flirting with you.’
‘I have a way to deal with that,’ Callanach said. ‘Come on. Let’s see if we can improve your mood with some saturated fat.’
‘I’ve been waiting for a man to say those words to me all my life,’ Ava said, striding past him into the restaurant, hanging her coat on a peg without waiting to be asked and taking the best table in the front window.
‘Excuse me madam, that table is laid for four. I wonder if you’d mind moving to the table at the back, please?’
Callanach watched Ava’s face change as she peered towards the back of the restaurant, checking out the smaller table between the kitchen door and the corridor to the toilets. Whilst Ava was usually the least pretentious woman he knew, tonight was probably not the time for anyone to mess with her. He stepped forward.
‘Do you mind?’ He smiled at the waitress.
She beamed at him, giving a small giggle for no particular reason. ‘Yes, sir. How can I help?’
‘It’s mine and my wife’s anniversary,’ he said, motioning towards Ava. ‘We really wanted this particular table. Could you accommodate us, do you think?’
‘I didn’t realise you were together.’ The waitress moved aside and pulled a chair out for him. ‘And yes, of course, as it’s a special occasion. Champagne, then?’ she asked.
‘Naturally,’ he replied, trying to ignore Ava sitting with her hands over her face. The waitress hustled away to fetch a bottle and the appropriate glasses.
‘You see? No one’s going to flirt with me now that I’m with my wife, celebrating – how many years is it?’ he asked.
‘If it wouldn’t hit the press in the morning, I’d think I’d prefer you to have said I’d hired you as an escort,’ Ava said, glaring at the menu. ‘I really don’t care what I eat. It all looks good.’ The waitress put glasses on the table and began pouring the champagne. ‘My husband will order for me,’ Ava simpered. ‘He’s wonderful at that!’
‘We’ll take a selection of the dim sum,’ Callanach said. ‘Whatever the chef recommends.’ As the waitress disappeared, he raised his glass. ‘To lost friends,’ he said gently. ‘How are you doing? You’ve been hard to find this week. I was worried about you.’
Ava tried to paint on a tough smile, lost the battle halfway through and looked down at her lap. ‘It hasn’t been great. I thought it was hard losing my mum last summer. Now the Chief has gone too and I feel like a fraud sitting at his desk, hearing his voice telling me to buck my ideas up and get on with it. I spent so much time with him over the years. I suppose we don’t always appreciate it, but the police force is like family. You don’t like everyone, wouldn’t choose half of them, but they’re always there, good or bad. Begbie was one of the good ones.’
She drained her glass of champagne and Callanach refilled it.
‘How’s his wife getting on? I know you were close to both her and the Chief. It must be hard watching her grieve,’ he said.
‘Glynis is one of a kind. Married to the police force as much as to one single policeman. She’s being remarkably stoic at the moment, but I’m worried how she’ll cope longer term. They completed each other, if that’s not too much of a cliché. The Chief was her whole world.’
‘How lucky that they found each other. There are a lot of people at the station asking about the funeral. What are the plans?’ Luc asked.
‘Full uniform honours, but it’s only open to close colleagues and friends,’ Ava said. ‘Glynis had another blow today. She’s been told their life insurance won’t pay out because it was a suicide with no suggestion of mental illness, not even depression or short-term psychological disturbance. She’ll have to move in with her daughter as she can’t afford the mortgage. I can’t imagine what she’s going through.’
‘I hadn’t even thought about the finances,’ Callanach said. ‘To have to deal with that on top of her husband’s death. Isn’t there anything we can do?’
‘Short of finding a decent source of income for her for the next twenty years, not really,’ Ava said. ‘There’s her share of the Chief’s pension, but it’s not enough for both the mortgage payments and to keep Glynis comfortable for the next twenty years. She was always a wife and mother, never had a career of her own, so she has no personal money to fall back on. Food! I’m starving.’ A stack of dim sum baskets were placed in the centre of their table. ‘I don’t know if it’s just me, but grief makes me eat constantly. I’ve consumed more calories in the last … oh, Luc, I’m so sorry. I haven’t even asked. What happened with your mother?