The Fourth Friend (DI Jackman & DS Evans #3)(37)

Jackman nodded. ‘Yes, he is. I’m glad we took him on board.’

‘I like him,’ Marie added. ‘I like the whole team, but Robbie’s a one-off, isn’t he?’

‘Sometimes I think he’s trying to prove something. I’m just not sure whether it’s to us or himself.’

Marie nodded. ‘I think he’s trying to be the best he can for his old crewmate. Stella North had to give up the job she lived and breathed for after she was injured, and Robbie, well, I think he’s taken up her baton. He’s doing it for her.’

‘I’d rather he did it for himself. But I’m not complaining! He’s a credit to us, no matter who he’s doing it for.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘He managed to get a ticket for yesterday evening and flew out at eight thirty. He reckoned the bars would just be hotting up when he arrived.’

‘Ah, sun, sea, and sangria! I think Max was right, he is a jammy little git!’

‘If the ex gives him what he’s looking for, he’ll be catching a flight straight back this evening. Not a lot of time for clubbing.’

‘Ah, shame.’

‘Said with feeling, I don’t think.’ Jackman smiled. ‘Why don’t you try to get a holiday sometime, Marie? You look so tired.’

‘Maybe. When the investigation is over, and when . . .’

She left the sentence unfinished, but Jackman knew what she was about to say. When Carter is back on an even keel. ‘Somewhere hot, I suggest.’

‘I was thinking more of spending some time with my mum in Wales.’

Jackman winced. ‘You like rainy holidays?’

‘Not much, but I do like my mum,’ said Marie with feeling. ‘She refuses to take off for sunnier shores, so I guess it’s Cymru or nothing.’

Marie returned to her desk. Jackman wished he could buy her two tickets to the warmest, most beautiful place he could think of. He had seen officers burn out in the past, and he didn’t want it happening to one he cared for, not to mention one that was so damned good at her job. He took a deep breath. They needed to get this case out of the way, then he’d try to ensure that Marie took some badly needed R&R.

*

It was Carter’s day off. It didn’t feel right, but he knew that if he didn’t back off occasionally, he’d pay for it. He got up late, and after breakfast decided to go down to the Eva May.

Before he went, he rang Marie. ‘Even the slightest hint of anything occurring with Leah, you ring me, okay? I’ll be on the boat, so I can get to you in fifteen minutes.’

Marie told him to forget about everything. Between her and uniform, and the super, Leah was well looked after. She promised faithfully to ring him if anything did happen.

Down at Stone Quay, the sunshine glistened off the Eva May and Carter felt a jolt of pride. He and the lads had done a bloody good job.

When they first got her to the quay, they had almost despaired. But as the months went by, the lovely old lifeboat had begun to show signs of coming to life again. Carter had enlisted the help of a group of owners and enthusiasts of wooden boats. He’d even asked some of his father’s old business colleagues to help with equipment for lifting and turning her. Matt was a master carpenter and he had been invaluable. He had soon stripped away the rotten planks on her hull and replaced them with new mahogany ones that he had needed to steam into place. He remade oak fenders and strengthened the gunwale. He had set Carter and Jack to work cutting and planing wood for the deck panels.

The engine had been Ray’s baby, and he was a genius. They had managed to acquire an old second-hand engine, which Ray had stripped down, repaired and installed.

Tom had tackled the bronze and metal work. He taught the rest of them all about galvanised centreboards, mast tabernacles, prop shafts and propellers.

The work had never seemed to end. They needed sails, spars and a new engine canopy and then, all at once, they were painting the hull.

Now there was little to do, and Carter was alone. But he needed to finish what they had all started.

He climbed up the ladder and saw Silas standing on the quay.

‘I’ve got some time to spare, young’un. Want a hand? I’m still good with a paintbrush.’

Silas had been working on boats all his life. Carter swelled with pride when he saw the admiration in the old man’s eyes. At first Silas had laughed at their efforts, but he kept an eye on their progress and offered some invaluable advice.

‘Come aboard, Si.’ He helped the old man climb aboard.

‘When’s the big day?’ Silas asked.

‘Next week. John Baxter from the Greenborough Marina is bringing down some lifting equipment and hoists on Tuesday.’

‘And then?’

Carter breathed in deeply. ‘And then, I take her out.’

‘Alone?’

Carter wasn’t sure how to answer that. He was rarely alone these days. Tom Holland seemed to dog his every footstep. ‘Not sure, Si. Maybe.’

Silas made no comment.

They spent the next couple of hours tidying up and putting small finishing touches to the paintwork. Carter heard Klink barking from the quay.

A Sportage was pulling in next to his Land Rover. He squinted into the sunlight. What on earth was Laura Archer doing here?

Klink eyed her suspiciously, but made no move.