Chapter 4

She read the paper over his shoulder, "Someone you know?"

"Only because the Chief Super says I must."

"What?"

"I'm protecting him until 4 this afternoon."

"From what?"

"Bodily harm."

Looking down at his mushy bowl of cereal, "You need someone to protect you from that pitiful breakfast."

"What should I have instead?"

"A hot breakfast, would only take a few minutes longer and it would keep you from snacking later in the day."

Looking up at her, "Has it occurred to you I'm watching my girlish figure by eating this?"

Leaning against the table, almost touching him, she shook her head. "Nice try, it's quick and it's easy and requires you washing fewer dishes."

"Guilty as charged, I throw myself on the mercy of the court."

"I could teach you how to cook. It wouldn't be hard, might even be fun."

His buzzing phone distracted him, "Hold that thought, pet."

He listened to the caller, asked a few questions then started gathering his things. Leaving his dishes on the table he smiled at her, "No chance you could clean that up, pet?"

"Not part of the job description I'm afraid."

He opened the door to his office, mind full of unanswered questions from the investigation. The widow was supposed to be waiting. She might be able to answer some of the questions but you never knew what grief would do to people.

Looking up as he stepped into the room his heart stopped for a second. She hadn't aged a day. A bit more elegant than when he'd last seen her but still heart stoppingly beautiful.

A smiled creased her face as she turned to face him fully, "Well I never."

James looked back and forth between the two, "What?"

"A long time ago, Sergeant, when the world was very, very young, Mrs. Turnbull and I went to school together."

"Aye, not only that." She smiled at James then nodded back at Robbie, "He was my first boyfriend."

James looked back at Robbie in surprise. There was a smile on Robbie's face James had never seen before.

"It's good to see you Diane."

"And you."

"Sergeant, can we have a moment?"

James nodded, "I'll be just outside."

They waited until James had left the room, closing the door behind him. "I'd ask how you are but…"

"I know." She paused, looking down at her hands. "I don't suppose you can tell me any more than the Sergeant did can you?"

He shook his head, "No, but I would like to ask you to be at the press conference. We're going to make an appeal for witnesses. Helps to have a family member there."

She nodded, "Of course."

Stepping closer, "I'll be right beside you, the whole time."

"Thank you, Robbie."

The press conference had gone well. Diane had held up admirably. Robbie couldn't help but admire her composure. She was older but he could still see traces of the young girl he'd once known.

He walked back to where she was standing with the Chief Super, "Sorry about that." Looking at Diane, "What are the plans now?"

"What a question?"

He shook his head, "Oh, I'm sorry."

She exhaled, "It's alright. Well, I was planning to overnight here with Nicky for a spot of R and R, you know, but… Would it help if I stayed around? 'Assist with the inquiries,' is that the phrase?"

Looking at Innocent, Robbie nodded, "Well, it would, if you feel you're up to it."

She nodded, "Yeah. Let's talk, eh?" She smiled over at Innocent, "It's supposed to help, isn't it? The talking cure, that's what Sigmund Freud said." Looking away, "I'm-I'm suddenly hungry. Is that awful?"

Innocent interceded, "It's a normal symptom of shock."

"We'll find somewhere quiet, to feed you, have a talk." Holding up his mobile, "Just give us five minutes to make a phone call."

"Aye."

He knocked on Innocent's door, pushing it open when she said enter. "Ma'am, I have something to run past you."

Arching an eyebrow, "I sense I'm not going to like this something?"

"I'd like to move Diane Turnbull to my flat for the duration of her stay."

"You're suggesting Mrs. Turnbull should stay at your house tonight?" She shook her head, "Why?"

"She's in a state of shock. She hates that hotel. There's been one murder on the premises and her husband was killed on the doorstep. She doesn't want to go home alone, and…"

"And you two were at school together."

He nodded, ignoring her sarcastic tone. "Therefore she trusts me."

"She might be a key witness. Or even, at this stage, a possible suspect."

He scoffed, "I don't see her as an assassin."

"I'm thinking like a lawyer, in court, looking to discredit the police."

"And I'm thinking like an old friend who always behaves strictly by the book."

Innocent exhaled noisily, closing her eyes. "All right. But with backup."

She watched them from the corner of the room. Anger brewed in her eyes. Robbie hadn't looked at her once since the woman had entered the flat. They were chatting, reminiscing, listening to music.

The woman looked at Robbie, a doe eyed expression, "What happens next?"

"Well, you go to bed for a good night's sleep, and I'll be in here with a good book."

"It's not bad."

"Dr. Patterson at the prison told me that you helped him write it. She said Nicky was, quote, 'functionally illiterate'."

Leaning forward, Diane set her cup on the table. "That's the jargon. Just means he couldn't spell. But he told a good story. That's what people buy, good stories. I just helped him with the long words."

Val spluttered from the other side of the room, "Right, that's what she helped him with."

Standing, Diane picked up their cups. "I'll be off." Walking to the kitchen, passing right by Val, "Thanks for looking after me."

"Just doing my job ma'am."

Val rolled her eyes, "Your job, is that what you call it."

Diane nodded at his CD collection, "No Barry Manilow, then?"

Robbie shook his head, "Nah, I never liked him much. Mind, when I was 18, I thought you would."

Laughing, "Oh, we never know anything, do we?" Smiling up at him, "Did you have a good marriage?"

Val took a step closer to Robbie, "Well?"

Diane saw the concerned look on his face, mistook it for worry about her question. "Oh it's just I couldn't help noticing the photographs."

He looked back at the photo, then nodded. "Yeah, very good." He smiled, tried not to look at Val, "The best."

"I'm glad about that. Yeah, so did I. I mean, people wouldn't believe me, but…I did." She laughed, "It was living dangerously, but…yeah, it was very good indeed."

"Ah, well, see, that's the difference. I believe in living safely." He stepped closer to Diane, coming to stand directly next to Val. "I daresay that's why I'm a cop. I want to look after the people that believe in living safely."

Diane paused, recognizing how different they were now. "Do police regulations permit you to give me a good night hug?"

Val spluttered, "No, they don't."

"You might have to sign for it."

They stepped closer together, embracing. Robbie closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of someone else in his arms.

"Don't do this, Robbie."

Diane broke the hug first, "You're a good man." She pushed back, kissing his cheek.

"I daresay."

He watched her walk away, a moment of longing coursing through him.

"Robbie."

Closing his eyes, "Val? Don't, she's an old friend."

"She's an old friend who's using you."

"No, she isn't."

"Yes, she is."

"You're the one he keeps telling me I need to move on. Why not with her?"

"Because her husband's body isn't even cold."

"It's not like that Val."

She turned away, "How are such a good detective and still so naïve?"

The buzzer sound, "And how are you dead and jealous?"

Robbie turned to the door, opening he smiled at James' rejoinder. "Don't worry, I'm not an assassin."

"I detected that. Come in."

They talked about the case. As James revealed the Turnbull's divorce, Val cried out. "I told you so. I knew something was off about her."

Robbie ignored her as James continued to talk. "You can ignore me all you want, Robbie Lewis. But you know I'm right. There's something off about her and she's preying on your latent feelings about her. Even your brilliant Sergeant sees it. He's quite good."

James looked around the flat, "So, what's the plan tonight?"

Nodding toward the sofa, "You'll sleep here, bring the widow to the station in the morning."

"And where are you going to sleep?"

Grabbing his jacket, "I've got a conversation I need to have. Then I'll kip at her hotel."

Val's laughter filled the room, "You had no intention of sleeping here."

"There's extra pillows and blankets in the hall closet. I'll see you in the morning."

Robbie was gone, leaving Val staring after him. Smiling up at James, although he couldn't see her. "Even after all of these years he can still surprise me."

He let himself into the flat, smiling when the door creaked. He dropped his bag inside the bedroom door. Val was sitting on the counter, waiting for him.

"I'm sorry."

"For what, exactly?"

"Acting like a jealous schoolgirl."

"Good to know you still care."

"Nothing could change that, Robbie. Not even death."

"That's how I feel too."

She smiled, "I know but you can't let it keep you from living."

He rolled his eyes, "No, my jealous dead wife does that."

"Oh, funny. I wasn't jealous, I was angry because of who it was."

He took a step closer to her, "I didn't love her. Not now, not then."

She smiled slightly, "I know."

"But it is funny that you've been encouraging me to move on and the first time I show any interest you go slightly nutty."

"There was one thing she said which was honest."

"What's that?"

"Dr. Hobson does fancy you?"

"You know, Val, I think you're getting senile in your death."

"I might be senile but at least I know where the sugar dish is."