Widows

Resnick was on the ground floor heading toward the main exit when he stopped to have a coughing fit. He could hardly catch his breath, his heart was hammering so rapidly he thought it was going to leap out of his chest. As he leaned against the wall, waiting for the heart attack he was sure was coming, he saw Alice walking toward him. Her pace quickened when she saw the state he was in.

‘Deep breaths sir, long deep breaths.’ Resnick knew what to do when he got like this, but Alice’s gentle reminder was still soothing. Especially now. She gave him time to get his breathing back to normal then asked if she should fetch a glass of water.

‘No, I’ll be fine,’ Resnick said. ‘But I need you to do me a favor, Alice, love. I want you to write a letter.’

‘I can’t...’ Alice began, trying to tell him she wasn’t working for his department anymore.

One more rule broken wasn’t going to harm either him or Alice now. ‘No,’ said Resnick. ‘I really need you to do this for me, Alice, please. It’s my letter of resignation.’

‘Oh, sir.’ Alice didn’t know what else to say.

‘They took the case off me, so I quit.’ Resnick looked so wretched, his head bent as he quietly told her exactly what he wanted written.

Alice wasn’t listening; she never did when he dictated letters. She usually just wrote what she knew he would have said if he’d had the time to think straight. She’d do the same now. She imagined herself saying, ‘I’ll quit with you, George. We’re both meant for better things.’ The very idea of actually calling him ‘George’ brought a lump to her throat and she hoped she didn’t have to say anything before it went away. He’d always been such a grouch, but he was her grouch. He was her grumpy, brilliant, disgusting, dedicated policeman, and no one knew how to handle him except her.

Once he’d finished, Resnick looked up at Alice. ‘When you do the whip round for the retirement pressie, no Teasmade, all right?’

Alice tried to smile but she just wanted to cry.

Resnick leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek. ‘Thanks for everything, Alice. And thanks for putting up with me.’

As she watched Resnick walk away, with his manky old coat flapping and his moth-eaten briefcase in his hand, she finally broke down. She’d be the first to admit that her feelings for such an outwardly unlikeable man were hard to comprehend. But Alice knew where she stood with Resnick, she knew her role, she knew she empowered him to be the best officer he could be by covering his back, listening to him moan, reassuring him when he had self-doubt and protecting him from... well, himself mainly. And she’d failed him. He gave her life purpose and that was more than any other man had ever done. Resnick had no idea how much she loved him — and now he never would.

Chapter 27

Bella took off the paint mask and stepped back to breathe in some air. Beads of sweat trickled down her forehead and cheeks. She surveyed the Ford Escort van that was to be their getaway vehicle with pride; she’d never sprayed a vehicle before, but she’d spray-tanned plenty of strippers backstage at the Z-Easy club, and it was pretty much the same.

When Dolly had bought the van — under a false name and in cash — two weeks ago, it was red. Now it was a gleaming white. The engine had been a bit knackered, but Linda had got to work and it had a lot more poke under the bonnet than before. Linda had learned a lot about engines from Carlos during the few weeks she knew him, the most important being how to ‘feel’ the engine. He’d said she could read manuals if she wanted to, but they didn’t replace intuition. That might have worked for him, but she’d read the manuals too — especially for the vehicles in Dolly’s lock-up. If they broke down, they went to jail. Simple as that.

Bella wandered across to Shirley, who was humming to herself as she busily painted magnetic signs for the sides of the getaway van. ‘The van’s ready when you are.’

Shirley looked up. ‘Do you think these are OK, Bella?’ She cared what Bella thought.

Bella nodded. ‘Very professional. It’ll look like a genuine council van when these and the false plates are on.’

On the far side of the lock-up, Linda was sitting on a crate, cleaning the sawed-off shotguns. Her face was ashen, her mouth a thin tight line, and she kept flicking looks toward the exit. She was waiting for Dolly.

‘Is everything OK, Linda?’ Bella asked, worried she was going to blow her top when Dolly arrived. It was early evening now and Bella had been watching Linda all day. At one point she’d tried to persuade her to go home, but Linda had refused. She’d sat in the lock-up, biding her time like a taut wire ready to snap. Now, Bella leaned in and whispered in Linda’s ear.

‘I know you’re hurting about Carlos, but losing it with Dolly ain’t gonna bring him back. Wait until the job’s done and, once you got your cut, you can call her what you want. You can even slap her about if it makes you feel better. Do ya hear me, Linda?’