Paul Finch - Ashes to Ashes - An unputdownable thriller from the Sunday Times bestseller

Heck shrugged. ‘I knew it was the only way I’d ever get any action with you.’

But the patient didn’t smile.

‘If you really want to collect your ticket, Shawna,’ Gemma replied, ‘I’m not going to try and talk you out of it. But I don’t think you should make this decision hastily.’

‘I love this job, ma’am … it’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. But at present, I’ve not got much choice. I’ve no feeling at all in my left arm and left leg, much less any movement.’

‘But if they’ve told you that’ll be OK eventually …?’ Heck offered.

‘Eventually, yeah. But when’s eventually? No one can say.’

‘Shawna, come on …’

‘Heck, I’m tired of getting hurt!’ She said this with such force that it brought a cringe of pain to what remained of her pretty face. ‘Seriously, Heck … ma’am. Me and Todd were looking to get married next year. He’s now wondering if he’ll be standing at the altar next to someone in callipers and a body-brace.’

‘Why don’t you look for a transfer?’ Gemma said. ‘Just take yourself off the frontline for a bit?’

‘Yeah,’ Heck said. ‘Something with a community brief maybe.’

‘At present, I’m not even fit to make cuppas for little old ladies,’ Shawna replied. ‘Mind you, might be a welcome change – going into a nice person’s house to say hello and have a chat, instead of picking over their mutilated corpse.’ If it was possible with a face as black and blue as hers, Shawna blushed, turned sheepish. ‘Sorry, ma’am … feel like I’m letting you down.’

‘Why would you feel that?’ Gemma asked.

‘For not being tough enough to carry on.’

‘Shawna, you’ve been with SCU what – seven, eight years? In that time, you’ve logged an impressive number of arrests and secured the convictions of some very nasty people. You’ve done your bit. So don’t worry. If you really want to finish on a medical, it won’t be a problem. I’ll put the paperwork through and make any phone-calls necessary. But I recommend you think about it first.’

‘I’ve already thought about it …’

‘How long for?’ Heck wondered. ‘You’ve only been conscious half an hour.’

Shawna glowered at him, only for a fresh stab of pain to bring new tears to her bloodshot eyes. ‘Half … an hour was long enough. Because if I took any longer, I might change my mind. And that’d be no good for me or Todd.’

Suddenly Heck wanted to ask if Todd Martindale was hanging around in the hospital somewhere, and perhaps if he’d visited Shawna before they had. Could he be the one who’d put her up to this? Heck didn’t know the guy too well, only that Shawna had hooked up with him through a dating site a year and a half ago, and had finally, in her own words, found happiness. He certainly sounded the real deal. A divorced middle manager at a sports retail company, he was safe, stable and apparently considerate to her in every way. Hell, why shouldn’t the guy raise questions about what Shawna did for a living? If he genuinely loved her, he’d be worried for her safety every day she spent in an outfit like SCU. Having initially felt hostile towards Todd, Heck now found himself warming to the guy even without having met him.

‘The light duties option doesn’t appeal?’ Gemma asked. ‘There’s no such thing as a job for life in the cops any more, but with your record, Shawna, I’m sure I can swing something.’

‘Permanent light duties, ma’am?’ Shawna said. ‘After SCU? That’d be even more likely to kill me.’

Heck understood that part of it, at least.

‘It’s better if I just make a clean break,’ she added.

Gemma nodded understandingly. ‘In the meantime, what work have you got outstanding?’

‘Nothing that can’t be picked up by someone else.’

‘I’ll take care of it,’ Heck said. ‘I’m at the Old Bailey for a couple of days from tomorrow, but I can sort it after that. Don’t fret.’

‘Shawna?’ Gemma asked again. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

Shawna took a deep, painful breath, and nodded.

‘OK … well, it’s your call. When you due to get out of here?’

‘I’ve not asked, ma’am.’ Shawna’s eyelids fluttered, as if fatigue was overtaking her – as well it might, given the cocktail of drugs she was on. ‘And I’m not bothered. Thanks for coming to see me, though. Sorry I’ve nothing better to tell you.’

They left, walking without speaking back to the hospital exit.

‘You know she doesn’t really want to leave?’ Heck said when they arrived in the car park. ‘She’s probably just in shock.’

‘Sometimes when you’re in shock you get greater clarity of vision,’ Gemma replied.

‘I thought Sagan had killed her for sure. If he hadn’t been panicking himself, he would have. He’d have put that bullet straight between her eyes.’

‘Most normal folk would have thought they’d done enough damage cracking her skull open.’

‘I think we can safely say there’s nothing normal about John Sagan, ma’am.’

Gemma eyed him sidelong as they strode, appraising his pale, tense features, his taut body-language.

‘We’re going to handle this investigation professionally, aren’t we?’ she asked.

‘As always.’

‘We’re not going to go looking for payback?’

‘Do I ever, ma’am?’

‘It’s just that you seem, I dunno … edgy?’

‘What can I say, ma’am. It’s been a disappointing morning. For all sorts of reasons.’

‘We’re not thinking of going solo on this, are we?’

She halted and probed him with those penetrating blue eyes of hers. Heck smiled in response, which, from her expression, didn’t look as if it reassured her much. Heck and Gemma had clashed several times in the recent past over his preference for working on his own, though he’d often argued that this stemmed from his either mistrusting those around him or finding them inadequate – he’d argued this point unsuccessfully, it had to be said.

‘No chance.’ He shrugged, walking on, as if it was ridiculous that she’d have any doubts. ‘Shawna’ll pull through. Plus, this time we’re frying a much bigger fish. It isn’t personal.’

‘And I’ve told you not to. That would be even more of a reason, wouldn’t it?’

He nodded. ‘Lots of motivation to keep this one by the book.’

Gemma still looked unconvinced. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d soft-soaped her to try and buy himself extra leg-room. She knew perfectly well that Heck and Shawna were more than just work colleagues. They’d never been lovers, but they’d known each other virtually since the commencement of their two careers, and that was a huge thing in cop terms; on top of that, as fellow natives of the Northwest exiled in London, they’d drawn additional strength and comfort from each other’s presence in that curious, indefinable way that only those of close heritage did when thrown together as strangers in a strange land.

‘That’s as long as the Organised Crime Division don’t muscle their way in,’ he felt it necessary to add, though immediately he could have kicked himself for saying this. Whatever your inner turmoil, you didn’t give Gemma Piper conditions. It could literally be a red rag to a bull. But on this occasion – despite working her lips together tightly, as if she was strongly tempted to say something sharp in response – her reply was cool and measured.

‘They won’t. They’re making a lot of noise at present, but they’re also a bit shamefaced about blundering in on our operation. They know they’re walking on thin ice.’

‘Who’s doing the shouting?’

‘DSU Garrickson.’

‘Garrickson, eh. For a minute then I thought it’d be some clueless, inept tosser.’