She sat behind Lewis’s desk, Milne folded himself into her recently vacated seat, Hunter leant against the door. Famie thought she’d get things started. Save the ballet.
‘Shall we talk about Seth then or do you want to go straight for his brother? I’m happy with either.’
Milne opened his mouth to speak but Famie wasn’t stopping.
‘When I met you before, DC Milne, I had no idea that Amal was EIJ. I hadn’t seen him before the funeral. Not once. Just pictures – you know, Seth had a few. Not many. He didn’t speak about him much. Not at all really. I asked him about his brother every now and then but he just shrugged and said they had fallen out a while back …’ Famie realized she was rambling, talking too fast and suddenly nervous. She took another mint.
Milne grasped the moment. ‘If I may?’ He ran a hand through his thinning sand-and-salt-coloured hair. ‘And let me say at the outset that I apologize for the personal nature of these questions. It must be a very upsetting time for you and everyone here.’
Manchester, thought Famie, though softened by years down south in the Met.
‘Thank you,’ she said, slower now, ‘and no need to apologize. I know how this works. What do you want to know?’
Milne pointed at his colleague. Her cue. DC Hunter pushed herself off the door.
‘How long had you known Seth Hussain?’
‘Tell you what,’ said Famie. ‘This might save you both some time. Here’s all of it. We first met when he joined the Africa desk here about three years ago. We were an item for about six months. We split up February last year. It was mutual. There you go.’ She folded her hands in her lap.
‘Was it a sexual relationship?’
Famie snorted. ‘Seriously?’
Blank faces from Milne and Hunter.
‘Yes it was. Very much so.’ Too much detail, she thought, think before you speak.
Hunter checked her notes. ‘So you only began seeing each other after he’d joined the Investigations unit?’
Famie nodded. ‘Actually it was at the party he held to celebrate his promotion to Investigations,’ she said. ‘To begin with I thought he was just being sympathetic because he’d got the job and not me – I’d applied too and was pretty devastated – then I realized he was hitting on me.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘I allowed myself to be consoled,’ she added.
Milne frowned. He had a heavily lined, sun-damaged face, and it creased now. He leant forward. ‘So this relationship only started after he’d become an investigator. Why do you think that was?’
Famie ignored his patronizing tone and just shrugged. Then a withering smile. ‘I hadn’t needed consolation before? Who knows?’ She pointed back at him. ‘How did you end up with Mrs Milne? Or Mr Milne? Or no one. But if you’re suggesting, as I think you are, that he only targeted me because he was an investigator, then that is clearly nonsense.’
Milne let that settle, before adding, ‘Actually that isn’t what I was suggesting. Quite the opposite.’
Now it was Famie’s face that frowned. ‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning,’ said Milne, slowly, ‘that you only targeted him once he became an investigator.’
Famie’s face fell. She looked from Milne to Hunter and back. ‘You think I did what?’
Milne cued Hunter again. She walked over to Lewis’s desk. The two women stared at each other.
‘Ms Madden.’
‘Ms Hunter.’
Famie wondered what could possibly be coming.
‘Ms Madden. Why don’t we talk about your time in Pakistan?’
16
FAMIE’S JAW DROPPED.
‘Pakistan,’ repeated DC Hunter. ‘You were stationed there for three years?’
Famie barely moved. Hunter’s tone was light and conversational but there was no doubting the dangerous territory they were entering. She sat up straight, glaring at her interrogators.
‘Really?’ she said. ‘You want to talk about my time in Pakistan?’
‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ said Hunter.
‘Not who killed my colleagues, then? Not what arrests you’ve made or have I remembered anything the investigators might have been investigating? Not that?’ Famie felt her anger rising, knew her cheeks had flushed. The expressionless faces of the DCs in front of her merely inflamed her indignation.
‘We will come back to that of course,’ said Milne.
‘Of course!’ shouted Famie. ‘But first Famie Madden in fucking Pakistan.’ She banged the desk with her fist, rattling the bowl of mints. ‘Genius!’ She was on her feet now, and DC Hunter stepped back against the door. Famie knew she had to get out before she made everything worse. She pointed at each police officer in turn. ‘Everything there is to know – everything – about my years in Pakistan you can get from the records here. It’s the usual mix of trials, elections, rallies, generals, Islamists and bombs. That’s it. You want to talk about Seth Hussain any time soon, you come right back. Until then, I’ve got some job hunting to do.’
DC Hunter stepped aside and allowed Famie out. The door slammed, the glass walls shook.
Famie spun left, ignoring the turned heads, and made for her old team. Most of the UK desks were full; Sam was Slot, head down and typing. She slunk into an empty chair and threw a pencil at him. He looked up and smiled.
‘Not being marched off the premises then?’
‘Not yet. But I swear to God if I’d stayed in there another second I’d have been arrested for assaulting a police officer,’ she said.
She took a few breaths, checked her phone, considered some Chopin. She craved a nocturne the way she used to crave nicotine. She fought the urge, put the phone away, and acknowledged the sad smiles from around the unit. They knew then.
‘Look, guys,’ she said, ‘I’m sorry to go, gutted really, but, well, you know how it is. I need a break, I think.’
Sophie Arnold came over to embrace her, tears in her eyes. Held her for a few seconds. She shook hands with everyone else.
‘Why the shouting?’ asked Sam, gesturing back at Lewis’s office.
Famie explained about Seth, Amal and the EIJ. Then their question about Pakistan. She could tell Sam was unimpressed with her. He was fidgeting, rearranging his crumpled shirt, breaking eye contact.
‘Of course they’re twats, Famie, but they’re twats in uniform,’ he said. ‘And they are running this show now. So go right back in there, tell them about Pakistan, show them all your photos and bore them like you bored the rest of us. Then they can ask you about Seth. Then they can leave and go talk to some real criminals.’
She knew he was right, and so threw another pencil at him.
‘When did you get to be quite so irritating?’ she said.
Sam grinned. ‘Joanna tells me it’s a gift.’
Famie walked back towards the office. She remembered that Sam’s police officer partner was the most understanding of women. She would have given a lot to have had someone in her life who was that tolerant but somehow it had never worked out.
Milne and Hunter hadn’t moved; she was still by the door, he was still in the visitor’s chair. Almost as though they were expecting her return. She perched back on Lewis’s seat and smiled sweetly. In the silence, the hum of the air-conditioning unit sounded almost frantic.