Chapter 69

Chapter 69

PC Dave Reynolds marched along the shabby corridor, consumed by dark thoughts. How quickly life changes, how swiftly triumph turns to disaster. Last night, before anyone had read the headlines in the local press, friends and neighbours had been falling over themselves to pat him on the back, shake his hand, sing to the world what a jolly good fellow he was. It was a different story this morning. Having been tipped off last night by a friend about the damning headlines, he'd expected a reaction, but he had hoped that his standing in the community, his long history of service, would delay people's rush to judgement. Not a bit of it. These days it was trial by media, mud sticking to whomever the papers decided to smear. Neighbours who were partying with him last night studiously avoided his eye this morning, bundling their kids into the car and racing away. It was as if he'd gone from saint to sinner overnight, with no chance of return.

Swallowing down his fury, Reynolds marched on, determined to front it out.

‘All right, Frank?' he shouted to the portly custody sergeant, a smile painted on his face.

But there was no comeback, no stale joke or cheeky grin from the station's keeper today. Just a curt nod, before he resumed gossiping with a colleague. Enraged, Reynolds buzzed himself in, stalking across the lobby, before diverting towards the stairs. There was already a crowd waiting by the lift bank, the volume of their chat audibly dropping as he approached. He wasn't going to offer himself up for their scrutiny, trapped together in a tiny, tense space, so instead he took the stairs, mounting them three at a time.

Pushing out onto the third floor, he hurried down the corridor, nodding to a veteran family liaison officer as he did so. She said nothing, dropping her eyes, before carrying on. Rage flared in Reynolds and he ground to a halt, turning to follow her progress. He wanted to grab her arm, pin her against the wall, force her to admit that there was nothing in these rumours, that they were baseless, vindictive innuendo. But she was already well out of range, increasing her speed with each step. Seething, PC Dave Reynolds turned once more to resume his progress, only to find DI Helen Grace heading directly towards him.

For a moment, he was stupefied. CID never graced the third floor, never mixed with ordinary mortals. Which meant that Grace had come here deliberately, perhaps spying his arrival from her vantage point on the seventh floor, making sure their paths crossed.

‘You've got some nerve coming down here!' he barked, advancing upon her. ‘Marching straight into the lion's den.'

‘On the contrary,' Grace replied coolly. ‘Everyone's been incredibly friendly. I only hope you get a similar reception.'

Her knowing tone was hard to stomach. Clearly she'd already been turning people – his people – against him, doubling down on last night's slander.

‘I warned you before to be careful,' Reynolds hissed, his blood boiling. ‘And I'll warn you again. I'm part of the fabric of this place, always have been, always will be.'

‘I wouldn't bet on it. The place could do with a bit of renovation. Some parts of it seem to be old and rotten, in dire need of repair …'

‘Watch your step, Grace. I won't tell you again. You may think you can trash me in public, blacken my name, but I won't take it lying down, you can be sure of that. Those historic allegations were false, unfounded, proven to be so, yet you seem determined to destroy my career because of some misguided notion of justice. Well, be warned, I will sue, I will seek reparations, and when the dust settles, it'll be your head on the block, not mine.'

He was in her face now, breathing on her, projecting as much violence and venom as he could at the experienced female officer. But to his surprise and alarm, she betrayed not the slightest flicker of anxiety, her eyes boring into his as she replied:

‘Let me make one thing very clear, PC Reynolds. You are unfit to wear this uniform. In fact, you are a disgrace to this profession, a cancer eating away at us from within.'

Reynolds stared at her, taken aback.

‘Which is why,' she continued, her tone steely and determined, ‘I will make it my personal mission to see that you are run out of this force. What's more, I'll enjoy doing it.'

She looked at him, her eyes sparkling, relishing his discomfort. Then, stepping aside, she hurried on, marching purposefully to the stairwell, before disappearing from view. Reynolds remained glued to the spot, however, stunned by her pushback. He'd been hoping to intimidate her, as he'd done so many others before, to scare her into withdrawing her forces, but her determination to destroy him, to hold his feet to the fire, was crystal clear. For the first time in years, PC Dave Reynolds felt a frisson of fear. He'd known there would be battles to fight, colleagues to win over, but suddenly the odds seemed stacked against him, given the appalling implacability of his opponent. He had hoped this would be a disciplinary matter, something he could fudge, obscure and stymie, but actually Grace's attack on him seemed like something far worse, far more threatening.

It felt like a personal vendetta.