The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)(4)
‘Oh well, ask the others what they think, and I’ll report back to the super.’
Marie nodded absently. ‘I was going to ask if the super has given Carter the go-ahead to work here, considering we have the Holland case running.’
‘She’s tight-lipped where Carter is concerned. You know they’ve never been the best of friends.’ Jackman raised an eyebrow. ‘She says that as far as she’s concerned there is no conflict of interest. She can see no problem with Carter being part of our investigation, unless he finds it difficult, then naturally she would have to relocate him.’
‘So we play it by ear?’
‘One day at a time.’ Jackman looked serious. ‘Marie, you know Carter McLean better than any of us, so watch him like a hawk, okay?’
Marie nodded solemnly, though she really did not need to be told this. She was worried sick about Carter, and she was not about to take her eyes off him. Not for one minute.
*
Jackman and Marie were not the only people reflecting on the case of Carter McLean. Laura Archer stared gloomily at her computer screen and wondered if her thesis would ever see the light of day.
Muttering a curse, she stood up and began to pace her office. Who would have thought A Study into Psychosocial Transitions could be so bloody draining? But then it wasn’t the thesis that was really bothering her.
She saved the document and reluctantly closed the program.
Her first meeting with Carter McLean had caused her heart to leap, for no other reason than that he was the perfect case study for her paper. He was complex, one of the most interesting clients she had ever dealt with. Now she was reconsidering her decision to use him as her key study. In fact, she was on the verge of abandoning the whole thing and starting again. With a sigh, she headed to the kitchen. Time for yet another coffee.
She spooned coffee into the jug, thinking about her meeting with Barry Richards, the force medical officer. The conversation had left her with an uneasy feeling, and his words reverberated in her head. Six months ago, a medical panel had decided that Carter McLean was physically fit to return to work. The only person to disagree was Superintendent Ruth Crooke, who in any case had nothing to do with the final decision. Laura and Richards had agreed that Carter ticked all the right boxes and was good to go. He would start with desk work, and if he showed no deterioration, he would be allowed to return to full duties.
Now Laura was perturbed, but she had no idea why. Her gut instinct told her something was very wrong, and her gut never let her down. She was still seeing Carter once a month for counselling, and on the face of it, he was doing very well. Or rather, Carter was doing very well at work. She had a deep suspicion that away from the office, things were very different. For Carter McLean was a very good actor. Sometimes he even fooled her, and she was a psychologist. His work colleagues would be a pushover.
She took a mug from the cupboard, threw in two lumps of sugar and waited for the coffee to brew. It wasn’t Carter, but Richards who was bugging her. The conversation had gone like this:
‘Absolutely incredible, the way he’s coped. If you saw him in his working environment, Laura, you’d be pretty astounded too. He’s a real trooper to come back from all that. Top Brass are very impressed with him. You should know that they are talking about moving him up the ladder if he carries on the way he is now,’ Richards said.
Laura inhaled slowly. She raised her eyebrows. ‘Well, that’s certainly not something I’d recommend just yet. In fact, if you want my opinion, I strongly oppose any such suggestion. Out of his comfort zone, you might find that Carter McLean doesn’t act the way your Gold Braid expect him to.’
‘Well, as far as his commanding officers are concerned, if we’ve signed him fit for duty, he’s fit for duty, along with everything that involves, including possible promotion. But okay, I respect your assessment and I’ll take it on board. Nothing’s concrete as yet, although I’d hate to be the one to stand in the way of someone’s promotion.’
‘And I’d hate to be the one to light the blue touch paper.’
The FMO shrugged. ‘All right, you win. I’ll monitor him for a while. At least that will please Superintendent Crooke. She was the only one to oppose the suggestion.’
‘Well, that’s par for the course, I guess. Carter told me that Crooke has never liked him, and it’s common knowledge that Carter only got his last promotion because she was away helping with the hunt for the Golf Course Killer.’
‘I hadn’t realised that old feud was still going on. Hey, did you know Carter’s running the marathon?’
She grinned. ‘Yes. He made quite sure that I put my name on his sponsor sheet beside an exorbitant sum of money! He’s running on behalf of Matthew Blake.’
‘Ah, one of his deceased friends.’
‘Mmm. Nice lad, by all accounts. He was a master carpenter. Carter wanted his friend to have what he called a “meaningful memorial.”’
‘But actually he’s done it out of a sense of guilt?’
‘Almost certainly. He blames himself for the whole thing. In his mind, he owes all of them, big time.’
‘Well, it wasn’t exactly his fault that the pilot tried to take on a storm force gale that had suddenly changed direction. I saw the accident report. He should have asked to be vectored away from the worst of the storm, but they believe he took a “push through” decision and, well, he misjudged it and paid with his life.’