"What have you done to upset the good doctor?" Jean Innocent asked from the doorway, her sudden appearance breaking the tension between the two men. "She practically mowed me down just now in the corridor."
Robbie looked at her confused, unbalanced from his argument with James and now faced with this.
"Anyway," Jean continued, "She said to give you this?" holding out a book towards him.
He took it and glanced at the title, barely registering his boss as she encouraged them to call it a night. Staring at the book now he vaguely heard her say something about a work event with the Chief Constable and James' polite reply, only belatedly managing a 'Night Ma'am' as she departed.
"Right, best do as the boss says, Sir?" James offered, but getting no response, he added a quiet adieu before exiting the office, closing the door behind him.
Robbie stared at the book baffled by how it had come to be in his hand. Why hadn't she given it to him herself, he wondered. The title alone was enough to make him smile, it was exactly the sort of thing that she'd revell in teasing him with and she rarely missed an opportunity to do that. Something wasn't right, he thought, and as it dawned on him what it could be, he felt a knot of panic developing in his stomach.
The bus shelter opposite the police station made the perfect spot from which to undertake a bit of covert people watching and in his line of business it often came down to the simple act of observing and then biding your time until the perfect opportunity presented itself. Dressed casually, black jeans and an unremarkable hoodie, he blended in with the other passengers, no one ever noticing he never actually caught the bus, them too focused on their own journeys. This spot had the further benefit of being able to just see who was coming and going through the staff entrance given that everyone, whether walking or driving, had to make their way up the tiny lane to the main road. Those in cars would be forced to wait for a gap in the traffic whilst those on foot would usually take a left and left again, across the small patch of green that was a short cut into the bustling streets of Oxford. He'd learnt over the years that, either way, he could quite accurately determine whether anyone of interest needed to be followed, surreptitiously, at a safe distance.
He reached into his pocket for his phone but seeing no messages that warranted a response reached into the other pocket and pulled out a chocolate bar. As he took a bite he saw her, the petite blonde he'd seen earlier in the week, pulling out of the car park and heading away from the city centre. At the time he'd assumed she was the copper's girlfriend, given how much they seemed to be enjoying one another's company, but now he wondered if perhaps she was a copper as well. She didn't seem the type but, he admitted to himself, with all the equal opportunities clap trap around these days it was getting harder to tell. As he munched on his snack he concluded that even if she was a police officer there was nothing to be gained by hanging around. All seemed quite on the Eastern Front, he told himself, and he was reluctant to draw attention to himself if he didn't have to. Scrunching up the now empty wrapper, he stood and casually chucked in the gutter as he made for home.
Curled up on the sofa with a woollen blanket pulled around her and the TV in the corner lighting up the otherwise darkened room, Laura found herself just staring blankly at it. She'd long since stopped watching, even hitting mute as the noise of it had been so distracting, but turning it off completely would risk acknowledging how alone she felt in this moment. She'd told herself not to get too excited but she'd let her heart overrule her head for a day and this was the outcome; feeling fed up and not a little rubbish about herself. He'd done nothing wrong, he'd never said it was a date, and yet she'd felt a change in his tone. She was sure of that. Her phone pinged beside her and before even looking to check she knew it would be him.
'A book on the many ways to poison a person. Trying to tell me something?'
Typical Robbie, she thought, smiling wryly at the message. As desperate as she was to resist the temptation to reply, to not even go there with him tonight, deep down she knew enough about herself to know that wanting to was quite different to actually being able to do it, and so she began to type.
'Thought you could use some pointers… But what's not in the book, that's the question?'
She sat up, pushed the blanket aside, waiting for his reply. She could almost picture him turning to the index and running his finger down the columns. She glanced at the TV, the programme she'd been pretending to watch had ended and now it was showing a madcap quiz show that made about as much sense with the sound off as on. Her phone sounded again with a message of just one word.
'Insulin.'
She bit her bottom lip as she thought about a reply and began to type.
'And what does that tell you, Inspector?'
'Never question a doctor's authority on a subject.'
'Obviously. And?'
'I'll have to think of another way to bump off Innocent.'
Laughing out loud, she contemplated how on earth she could beat that. But before she could try, another message appeared.
'Looking forward to Thursday evening, just us. Night x'
God, Robbie, she thought to herself, sighing as she re-read it, what the hell does that mean? Deciding it was safer not to even start down that path, she replied with a simple 'good night' and turned off her phone and headed upstairs. She wasn't on call and whatever she was feeling, she concluded, was not going to be helped by any further messages to or from anyone.
