DCI Abigail Spencer groaned at the persistent and invading noise of her phone and reached over to grab it from the bedside cabinet.
'Spencer.'
'Gov, it's DS Grisling here. Sorry to call your personal phone but I couldn't get hold of you on your work phone.'
'That's because it was fucking turned off Grizzly.'
'It's Grisling Ma'am.'
'At 3.30 in the fucking morning I'll call you any sodding name I like Grizzly. I was about to take my first day off in 3 fucking weeks so why are you calling me and not DCI Wallace?
'He told me to call you Gov, there's been a murder.
'And? Since when did Wallace need my help on a murder case?'
'Well Gov, erm he's arrested someone and she's a, well she, you know she's....'
'Oh for fucks sake spit it out man!'
'She's a lesbian Gov.'
'Jesus, it's not catching Grizzly, why are you calling me?'
'She knows you Gov. She's pleading innocence even though she was practically caught red handed said she's only prepared to speak to you.'
'Oh for fuck's sake! What's her name?'
'She won't tell us. Won't say a word unless it's to you Gov. She's pleading the right to remain silent.'
'Since you found my private mobile number I'm assuming you can also find my address? Get your arse over here in a division car Grizzly, I've been drinking and I need a lift.' and with that the conversation ended abruptly.
There were those who assumed that Abi Spencer had only risen to the ranks of DCI because she ticked a lot of boxes on the equal opportunities questionnaire and made the force look good for being 'inclusive'.
Those people had obviously never worked with or for her. She was a bloody good copper who had worked twice as hard and used all her smarts to overcome the male prejudice in the police force. She was also totally open about being a lesbian and the jokes had ranged from good humoured banter to totally crass and bloody offensive, but she had weathered them all until finally the novelty wore off.
There were very few jokes now and they were generally made behind her back -- she was too high up the food chain to openly piss off these days unless you wanted to find yourself back in traffic.
Having arrived at the station and dispatched DS Grisling to find her a very strong, very black, very sweet cup of coffee she headed to the custody suite. She always marvelled at how the name 'custody suite' made the area sound appealing -- like somewhere you'd actually like to be, rather than the mass of institutional green corridors with metal cell doors that it was in reality.
DCI Wallace was talking to the Custody Sergeant and looked up as she walked in, a grin spread across his face.
'Ah Abi, come to rescue one of your comrades in arms?'
'Fuck off Wally. Have you gotten her name out of her yet?'
'Nope. The only thing she'll say is that she wants to speak to you; hasn't even asked for a lawyer yet.'
'OK, give me the details.'
DCI Wallace proceeded to explain how a 999 call due to a disturbance had led to them finding a front door wide open in a very upper-class neighbourhood, a trail of blood throughout the house, obvious signs of a struggle (although no signs of forced entry) and the dead body of a very scantily clad woman in the kitchen, with another woman passed out nearby holding a hammer.
The hammer was of course suspected as the murder weapon, and as the unconscious woman had been holding it they knew that her prints were all over it; she was also covered in blood.
To all intents and purpose it looked like a case of spousal murder and DCI Spencer had to admit that it didn't look good for the woman -- whoever she was.
'Have you got an ID on the victim yet.'
'Yes, she was a local pillar of the community apparently. Ran her own businesses, donated to charity, was on the local council for a few years, swanky house on the canal yadda, yadda, yadda...' DCI Wallace had been flipping through his notebook as he spoke looking for the name, but the description was enough and Abigail's face had turned ashen.
'Oh my god, it was Christine Pierce wasn't it?' she gasped, her breath getting caught somewhere in her throat.
'Yeah, that was it. Shit are you OK? Did you know her?'
'Yeah, but this is off the record -- at least for the time being. We had a relationship about 5 years ago but I called it off.'
'Why?'
'She didn't think being open about her sexuality would be good for business and I refused to hide mine. Couple that with the long hours this job demands and you've pretty much got a recipe for disaster.'
'Ain't that the truth' muttered Wallace, who was currently embroiled in his second divorce.
As Abi looked through the small, reinforced window in the cell door she was relieved to find that she didn't recognise the woman sat on the bench.
On entering she looked up into Abi's face and tried to smile but a large bruise covering one side of her face was making it difficult. Abi had to admit that she was damn fine looking -- even dressed in a white paper suit at 4am and covered in bruises.
'Hello, I'm DCI Spencer.'
'Thank you so much for coming, I didn't know what else to do.'
'Well, this better be good. I'm supposed to be on some very overdue leave and instead I get dragged out of bed at stupid-oh-clock in the morning because apparently someone I know has committed a murder.