A Banquet of Consequences by Elizabeth George Read Free Book Online

Isabelle Ardery held in her desk a transfer request that Barbara had signed, which could catapult her to the north of England. One wrong move and the date would be filled in, guaranteeing her a stunning new life in Berwick-upon-Tweed. No job was open up there, of course. But Isabelle Ardery knew people in high places, and a favour given was a favour owed. There were very few chief constables in the land who would turn away from the prospect of a favour owed them by a detective superintendent at the Met. Because of this, Lynley made the decision to have a word with the superintendent. He wanted to have a go at talking her into removing the sword of Damocles that was fixed above Barbara’s head.
    At Ardery’s office, he asked politely if he could have a word, guv. Isabelle was dealing with some paperwork, but she set it aside. She gave him the eye at his tone of deference. She would, Lynley knew, be immediately suspicious.
    She pushed back from her desk and rose. She went to a rather shabby credenza against the far wall and poured herself a glass of water from a jug that she held up in offer to him. He demurred. She said, “Do sit, Tommy,” but she didn’t do so herself.
    Lynley saw that sitting at her command was going to please her. But he also understood that it would diminish him in both of their eyes. So he engaged in an eye-lock moment with her as she waited for him to make up his mind. He did, saying, “I’ll stand if it’s all the same,” to which she said, “As you wish, of course.”
    They were an identical height. His was by virtue of genetics. Hers was by virtue of wearing shoes with a modest two-inch heel. They brought her to six feet, two inches, just like him, and when he stood in front of her desk with his fingertips on it, they were able to eyeball each other.
    He knew he couldn’t go at his subject directly. Still, there was no point to a quarter hour of social niceties, so he said, “I’ve some concerns about Barbara Havers, guv.”
    Isabelle’s gaze on him narrowed. “What’s the exasperating woman done now?”
    “Not a thing. I’m finding that a problem.”
    “Because . . .”
    “Because how she is just now—these last two months, actually—isn’t how she does her best work.”
    “She’ll adjust.”
    “That’s what concerns me. Who she was and how she worked . . . That’s disappearing a bit more every day. This new iteration of her—”
    “I quite like this new iteration of her,” Ardery cut in. “It’s jolly good to know I can come into my office in the morning and not have someone storming along or ringing me up to demand my presence on high in order to discuss her latest misadventure.”
    “But that’s just it,” Lynley said. “To do a decent job, one has to stumble now and again. If one becomes too cautious, too afraid of being disciplined or dragged into court or put through an internal investigation or . . .” He hesitated because if he said the rest, she would know instantly what he had in mind and he wasn’t sure this was the route to go. Isabelle didn’t take lightly to being offered advice.
    “Or?” She lifted her glass and drank. Her gold button earrings caught the light as her blond hair swept back briefly and then fell neatly into place.
    “Or being forced to transfer,” he said, as finally there was simply nowhere else he could go.
    “Ah.” She set her glass down on the desk. She herself sat, and she gestured him to do likewise. He did so this time as she said, “That’s why you’ve come. Let’s jump ahead and save ourselves five or ten minutes of potential metacommunicating with each other as I get enough of that when speaking to the father of my boys. You would like me to withdraw Sergeant Havers’ transfer request.”
    “I think it would help.”
    “As before, Tommy, I like things as they are.”
    He leaned towards the desk. In unconscious response, she leaned away from it. He said, “It’s that transfer request that you had her