‘Great.’ Osian is clearly unimpressed.
‘This could be the key to the whole job, mate,’ Leo says. He fishes a tenner from his pocket and hands it to Osian, with a wink. ‘Good work.’
‘You’re too nice,’ Ffion says, as they head back to the car, the crowd behind them dispersing, disappointed with the lack of spectacle.
‘I always think niceness is underrated,’ Leo says mildly.
It certainly isn’t something they find when they get to Chester, where Crouch rolls his eyes dramatically at the evidence bag Leo brings into his office. ‘What have you got there? More wild geese?’
Leo puts it on the DI’s desk. ‘The murder weapon. Retrieved from Mirror Lake earlier today.’
Ffion watches conflicting emotions cross Crouch’s face. This was a great result – surely the guy would muster a well done?
‘About fucking time you earned your keep.’ Crouch gives a bark of laughter. He does that, Ffion’s noticed: dilutes his obnoxious remarks with grins and guffaws, as though everyone’s in on the joke.
‘We’re on our way to the lab with it now,’ Leo says. ‘If you’re happy to authorise it, of course.’
‘Of course the water will have destroyed any useful evidence,’ Crouch says, as though it’s Leo’s fault.
‘Well, actually,’ Ffion says loudly, ‘latent prints have been recovered from items submerged in standing water for several weeks. Studies were carried out on firearms thrown into freshwater lakes and the results showed very little degradation.’ She holds Crouch’s gaze. ‘So we could be in luck.’
The DI leans back in his chair. ‘I’m coming to the conclusion you might be wasted in north Wales, DC Morgan.’
‘Only on my days off, sir,’ Ffion says. ‘They’re lethal with the measures in my local.’
‘Ha!’ Crouch swivels to his computer and jabs, one-fingered, at the keys. Ffion and Leo wait. ‘They’ll be expecting you at the lab.’ Crouch looks up, as though surprised to still see them there. ‘Well, go on, then!’
‘Thanks, boss,’ Leo says.
‘You want to take a leaf out of that one’s book.’ Crouch gestures towards Ffion, already half out of the office. ‘Your ball-sacks empty, are they?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Then show a bit of spunk, for Christ’s sake.’
Ffion turns. If Leo won’t tell him, then she bloody well—
But she feels Leo’s hands on the backs of her arms, propelling her gently but firmly out of Crouch’s office.
‘He needs telling,’ she says, when they’re on their way to Forensics.
‘It’s just the way he is. He’s a dinosaur.’
‘He only gets away with it because you don’t challenge him.’
‘It doesn’t bother me.’
Ffion gives a burst of laughter. ‘Yeah, right.’
‘Even if it does, it’s my life, isn’t it? Nothing to do with you, or anyone else.’
Anger swells inside Ffion. ‘Wrong.’ She stops dead, forcing Leo to do the same. ‘Men like that keep going until they’re stopped. Even if it doesn’t bother you – which, by the way, is the biggest crock of shit I’ve heard since Yasmin Lloyd claimed to be grief-stricken – what about the next person he picks on? A waitress, a bus driver, an officer who is bothered by it.’ Her eyes flash. ‘Don’t you get it? It’s not about how you feel. Every time Crouch goes unchallenged, you’re letting some other schmuck down.’
Ffion flings opens the door to Forensics, letting it swing shut in Leo’s stunned face. Her heart’s thumping, and she doesn’t need a psychologist to tell her she’s projecting. Still, she’s surprised to discover there’s something on which she and Crouch are in complete agreement.
Leo Brady needs to grow a pair.
FORTY-ONE
OCTOBER | MIA
Mia’s back is killing her. She cleans for Glynis Lloyd once a fortnight and always dreads it: the woman’s hoover weighs a bloody ton. The flat above the shop has two sets of stairs and Mia’s lugged the vacuum cleaner to the top floor to finish off there.
‘Do you want me to move these boxes, or work around them?’ Mia calls. Glynis is never far away. Mia’s never sure whether the older woman likes to check up on her, or whether she wants the company. Sure enough, Glynis is in the spare room in seconds.
‘It’s a bit of a mess, I know – just do what you can.’