Enright, thirty-something and a gym junkie and one of Harrigan’s team, grinned to people around him as he spoke. Grace had just walked into the office and put her bag down on her desk, which was some distance away from his. She saw the small group watching her speculatively and wondered if they were manufacturing gossip, then told herself not to be so thin-skinned.
Harrigan’s 2IC, Trevor Gabriel, appeared beside them, calling out to the room, ‘Better get a move on, people, it’s show time. It’s on in the big room, not out here.’
People got to their feet. Grace waved to Trevor across the busy office, a gesture he returned with a smile.
‘You know her?’ Ian asked.
‘Known her for fucking centuries, mate. She’s an old friend. I was at uni with her once upon a time.’
‘Introduce me. I’d like to get friendly with her too.’
Trevor glanced at him darkly and was already moving away. He joined Grace by her desk, leaving the others to watch and wonder.
Trev, a substantial man with no neck and shoulders like a wrestler, had black hair shorn to stubble. Known to be gay, he was the subject of occasional to frequent nasty remarks but was too formidable for anyone sensible to bait to his face. No one could credibly spread the rumour that he and Grace were sleeping together, but if they were friends it could be said that she was here only on his recommendation.
In the rounds of gossip, this particular slant on her arrival had already become currency. There was some slender truth to it. Trevor had suggested Grace as a possible recruit and was her informant about life on the team and Harrigan in particular.
In the midst of this, Harrigan himself arrived to marshal his team for a recap of the day’s events. He stopped at Grace’s desk to let her know that he intended introducing her to the troops once they were inside the incident room, if that was all right with her.
‘Sure,’ she replied with a polite smile, a response the watchers searched for hidden meanings.
The incident room was the engine room. Everything that was worth watching happened in this ugly elongated piece of open space without windows and where the walls were lined with imitation wood panelling. It was a public place, where people arrived as at a theatre, where accounts of rape, assault and murder were thrashed out in detached detail, and competition and aggression acted out free of charge. People came here to hatch out ideas, discover what they might be asked to do next, or find fodder for something to talk about.
‘Okay,’ Harrigan said, calling for quiet. ‘Before we start — most of you have already met Grace Riordan. Grace started here today, I’ve already told her she’s lucky we could turn on something like this for her. We’ve tossed her in the deep end but she’s handled it. And she’s still smiling. You can’t ask for much more than that. Welcome, Grace.’
‘Thanks,’ she replied, her clear voice carrying across the room. ‘I’ve got to say that I never once had to wonder what I was going to do next today, which is not something you can complain about. And it’s nice to be here. Thanks for the welcome.’
There was some laughter and applause.
‘That doesn’t change, Grace,’ Ian called out. ‘You never stop working around here.’
‘It’s my concern for your welfare, mate. I don’t want you to get bored,’ Harrigan said. ‘We’ll give you a proper welcome with a few ales down at the Maryborough as soon as we can, Grace, but just now we don’t have the time, I’m sorry. We’ve got work to do.’
With the social niceties out of the way, he looked over a sheaf of photographs which he’d laid down on the metal table in front of him.
Everyone waited as he gathered his thoughts. He looked up to address the room.
‘Something I want you all to remember as soon as you wake up in the morning, as soon as you get in to work every day: we have no time to spare. This job has priority over everything else
Harrigan’s 2IC, Trevor Gabriel, appeared beside them, calling out to the room, ‘Better get a move on, people, it’s show time. It’s on in the big room, not out here.’
People got to their feet. Grace waved to Trevor across the busy office, a gesture he returned with a smile.
‘You know her?’ Ian asked.
‘Known her for fucking centuries, mate. She’s an old friend. I was at uni with her once upon a time.’
‘Introduce me. I’d like to get friendly with her too.’
Trevor glanced at him darkly and was already moving away. He joined Grace by her desk, leaving the others to watch and wonder.
Trev, a substantial man with no neck and shoulders like a wrestler, had black hair shorn to stubble. Known to be gay, he was the subject of occasional to frequent nasty remarks but was too formidable for anyone sensible to bait to his face. No one could credibly spread the rumour that he and Grace were sleeping together, but if they were friends it could be said that she was here only on his recommendation.
In the rounds of gossip, this particular slant on her arrival had already become currency. There was some slender truth to it. Trevor had suggested Grace as a possible recruit and was her informant about life on the team and Harrigan in particular.
In the midst of this, Harrigan himself arrived to marshal his team for a recap of the day’s events. He stopped at Grace’s desk to let her know that he intended introducing her to the troops once they were inside the incident room, if that was all right with her.
‘Sure,’ she replied with a polite smile, a response the watchers searched for hidden meanings.
The incident room was the engine room. Everything that was worth watching happened in this ugly elongated piece of open space without windows and where the walls were lined with imitation wood panelling. It was a public place, where people arrived as at a theatre, where accounts of rape, assault and murder were thrashed out in detached detail, and competition and aggression acted out free of charge. People came here to hatch out ideas, discover what they might be asked to do next, or find fodder for something to talk about.
‘Okay,’ Harrigan said, calling for quiet. ‘Before we start — most of you have already met Grace Riordan. Grace started here today, I’ve already told her she’s lucky we could turn on something like this for her. We’ve tossed her in the deep end but she’s handled it. And she’s still smiling. You can’t ask for much more than that. Welcome, Grace.’
‘Thanks,’ she replied, her clear voice carrying across the room. ‘I’ve got to say that I never once had to wonder what I was going to do next today, which is not something you can complain about. And it’s nice to be here. Thanks for the welcome.’
There was some laughter and applause.
‘That doesn’t change, Grace,’ Ian called out. ‘You never stop working around here.’
‘It’s my concern for your welfare, mate. I don’t want you to get bored,’ Harrigan said. ‘We’ll give you a proper welcome with a few ales down at the Maryborough as soon as we can, Grace, but just now we don’t have the time, I’m sorry. We’ve got work to do.’
With the social niceties out of the way, he looked over a sheaf of photographs which he’d laid down on the metal table in front of him.
Everyone waited as he gathered his thoughts. He looked up to address the room.
‘Something I want you all to remember as soon as you wake up in the morning, as soon as you get in to work every day: we have no time to spare. This job has priority over everything else
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