Page 116 of Better the Devil

Reeve tucked a thumb into his belt, right by the big silver buckle. ‘OK. Fair enough.’

He didn’t leave, though. Just stood there, in his checked shirt and jeans, following Logan’s gaze out through the rain-streaked window.

‘You know what I’ve learned over the years?’

Logan didn’t look at him. ‘Line dancing?’

‘Ha! Well, yeah. Can’t argue with that, but that’s not where I was going,’ Reeve said. ‘I learned that, sometimes the thing we’re best at—doing the whole detective thing, seeing patterns, rooting out guilt—that’s the exact thing that makes us so bad at the other parts. Family life. Wives. Kids. The normal day-to-day of being out there in the world.’

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

‘We’re trained to suspect,’ Reeve continued. ‘Only way we get by is by questioning everything, and taking nothing and no one at face value. That’s who we are. That’s what makes us so good at what we do.’ He shrugged. ‘But that ain’t so great for…’

He gestured vaguely at the world beyond the office walls.

‘…all the other stuff.’

‘Is there a point you’re aiming for here?’ Logan asked, his voice flat. ‘Or do you just like the sound of your own voice?’

‘Bit of both,’ Reeve replied. ‘Just know that you’re not the first good detective to make a mess of the personal stuff. Take it from me. And I highly doubt you’ll have the honour of being the last. Doesn’t make it any easier, I know. But I just felt you should know you ain’t alone in it.’

He hung off, like he was expecting Logan to thank him for his words of wisdom. If so, he was going to be waiting a very long time.

‘So, uh, I guess I’ll just get going? Long drive back home. I left Mr Maximuke through in the interview room, so you can decide what you want to do with him.’

‘Thanks.’ Logan’s jaw was so clenched he could barely get the words out. ‘For stepping in like that. It was’—his mouth started to form the A of “appreciated” before he changed his mind—‘noted.’

Reeve’s smile bloomed until it took up most of his face. ‘It was my pleasure. I’d like to think that this is the start of a long, beautiful friendship.’

Logan shoved his hands into his pockets as he turned away from the window.

‘Aye, well,’ he said. He nodded to the door at Reeve’s back, reminding him it was there. ‘I wouldn’t go getting your hopes up.’

Tyler and Sineadwere huddled around the Big Board when Logan finally ventured out of his office. Dave was speaking on the phone over at his desk, while Ben watched, eyes-wide in slack-jawed wonder, as Hamza clicked his way through what seemed to be a fairly simple spreadsheet.

Sergeant Gavin Fleck was still in the room, though he had parked himself at the desk Dave used to occupy back in his Uniform days, where he’d mostly handle the checking in and out of evidence, and other paperwork.

The seat suited the sergeant, Logan thought. Gavin looked quite at home in it as he spoke into his shoulder radio, and noted the responses in his pad.

Everyone was busy. That was good. But then, he expected nothing less from this team.

‘You heard anything?’ he asked from right behind the detective constables, close enough to make them both jump.

‘Jesus Christ, boss. Don’t do that,’ Tyler said. ‘We’re on a knife edge here.’ He shot a dirty look at the main door, like it was the one responsible for keeping them in the dark. ‘No word from anyone yet.’

Logan checked his watch. They were well past office hours now. It was unusual for the panel not to have fucked off home come the stroke of five.

Although most of them had travelled up for the interviews. They’d be heading back to hotels. Premier Inns and Travelodges, and other places well below their own perceived sense of status. They probably wanted to drag this out as long as humanly possible, so they could delay the return to their accommodation and at least get dinner in a nice restaurant out of it.

‘I wouldn’t worry about it,’ he told them. ‘Knowing those grasping bastards, they’ll wait until after their free breakfast and a big lunch tomorrow before they tell you.’

‘Tomorrow?’ Tyler squeaked. His hands wrung together. ‘I don’t know if my nerves’ll take that, boss.’

It was a performance, Jack reckoned, although once again you could never quite tell with Tyler. Given what had happened during his interview, though, the lad must surely have known what the outcome was going to be.

Although, the way the DC kept glancing at his wife told Logan it wasn’t himself that Tyler was worried for. He wanted this for Sinead, maybe even more than she wanted it for herself.

‘Aye, well…’ Logan rocked on his heels as he searched for some comforting words of wisdom. He eventually gave up with a shrug. ‘Tough.’