‘The bank owns the apartment, Sergeant Poe, I just pay subsidised rent. I’m expected to entertain at home and investment banking is all about projecting an image.’
‘And is that what you do? Investment banking.’
‘It is, and it’s not as much fun as it sounds,’ she said with a grin. ‘Walk with me?’
She opened the double doors. A blast of chilled air filled the room. She stepped outside. Poe followed.
She turned and leaned against the balcony’s glass and metal guard.
‘Stephanie tells me you’re a bit under the weather?’
‘Bit of a bug,’ he said.
‘Bug’ was an understatement. He’d been laid up for almost a week now. The grandparents from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory had spent less time in bed. It had started as a headache but had evolved into a hacking cough that had turned his throat red-raw. He felt he was through the worst but it hadn’t been nice. Winter bugs never were.
‘I’ve got a fine single malt that’ll sort that out,’ Jessica said. She disappeared inside, returning a minute later with two crystal tumblers full of amber liquid.
Poe sniffed it, then took a sip. The whisky was like fire and ice. Beautiful, smoky and unlike any hard drink he’d had before.
‘Why are you here, Sergeant Poe?’
He was tempted to say, ‘Because Tilly made me,’ but it seemed flippant. He decided on the truth.
‘Steph’s a good friend. We’ve been through a lot together.’
Jessica nodded thoughtfully. ‘I need you to do something for me.’
Poe said nothing. Jessica seeking him out had been no accident.
‘I need you to talk my sister out of this ridiculous career path she’s chosen for herself.’
‘And why would I do that?’ Poe said carefully.
‘In the next month or so she’s having a baby. My nephew or niece. She’ll have responsibilities she hasn’t had to consider before. Being a police officer’s fine when you’re young and single but she can’t keep putting herself first any more. People are relying on her now and this job you do isn’t conducive to sensible decision-making. She needs to quit playing cops and robbers and rejoin the real world.’
‘It’s not like that,’ Poe said. ‘Most of what we do is office-based.’
She raised an eyebrow. ‘Didn’t you nearly burn to death in a house fire last year?’
‘Yes, but—’
‘And weren’t you arrested for murder recently?’
‘Yes, but that was a misunderstanding. What happened, was this man had—’
‘But you’ll agree what you do has its … unnecessarily exciting moments?’
Poe didn’t know what to say. It was true they had been in a few scrapes recently. He blamed Bradshaw – she kept finding new and inventive ways to get closer to the bad guys …
‘Is this not something that the two of you should discuss?’ he said.
‘Stephanie doesn’t listen to me, Sergeant Poe. She used to. Used to hang on her big sister’s every word. Not any more.’
But Poe had stopped listening. Flynn was talking on her phone and she was frowning. She caught his eye and nodded. He drained the whisky, grimacing as it burnt his raw throat.
‘Duty’s about to call,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
‘Go,’ Jessica sighed.