Read Broken Fall: A D.I. Harland novella for Free Online Page B

snatching up the receiver. ‘Western Gold Care, how can I help you?’
    As she sat down to stare at her computer screen, Harland lowered himself on to a black office chair, and swivelled slowly left and right, glancing around the room while Fiona was talking.
    The floor was crowded with cardboard boxes, some stacked up in piles, some open and displaying their contents – pump-bottles of hand sanitizer, packets of disposable gloves, and smart blue tunics, still wrapped in their cellophane. Behind the desk, a large whiteboard wall-planner displayed a complex grid of people and times. Idly, he sought out Tracey’s schedule, noting the two sad lines of empty boxes on the rota where Albie’s name had already been rubbed out.
    ‘Well, speak to him and make sure,’ Fiona was saying. ‘I mean it, you check with him first and make sure he’s happy to cover for you.’
    Harland watched her thoughtfully. Reaching for a pen and scribbling something down on a post-it note, she appeared untroubled by the air of chaos around her. He’d never quite understood people who could deal with a hundred things at once, taking everything in their stride. It wasn’t a matter of pressure – his own job had plenty of that – but he needed the freedom to focus his thoughts, to see the whole picture rather than dotting about from one thing to another.
    ‘All right. Yes.’ Fiona sounded as though she was wrapping up her conversation, cradling the receiver against her shoulder as she tapped something into her computer. ‘I’ve left a note on the system, but you tell him I want him to confirm it before the end of the day, fair enough?’
    She glanced up at him, rolling her eyes apologetically as she peeled off the post-it note, then turned to stick it on to the wall-planner. Harland smiled to himself. Fiona’s job clearly required the ability to multi-task.
    ‘Okay. Yes, you too … bye.’ She replaced the receiver, and looked up at him with a wry smile. ‘Sorry about that.’
    ‘It’s not a problem.’ Harland glanced at the chaos surrounding them. ‘You must be busy.’
    Fiona gave him a weary smile.
    ‘Just a little busy, yes. I’ve got not one but
two
people off today, so my supervisors are having to fill in with clients, leaving me with the phones.’ She took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. ‘But we’ll muddle through. Anyway, what was it you wanted?’
    ‘Just some background checking,’ he told her. ‘Formalities, really, but I wondered if you could tell me a bit about Tracey Miller?’
    Fiona nodded, her expression growing sombre.
    ‘The poor girl was dreadfully upset when I broke the news to her this morning. I told her to take the day off.’ She sighed, then glanced up thoughtfully. ‘You’re investigating Albert Errington’s death?’
    Harland tried to play down any ideas she might be having with an apologetic shrug.
    ‘I just want to satisfy myself that I’ve not missed anything,’ he explained.
    ‘Oh, of course.’ She seemed to approve of this, settling back into her seat and nodding agreeably. ‘It’s important to be thorough.’
    ‘I’m glad you understand,’ Harland made himself relax, mirroring her body language. ‘There are so many questions, I suppose it’s no wonder that some people get on edge …’ He sighed, drawing his notebook out, doing his best to appear disinterested. ‘So. How long has Tracey been with you?’
    ‘Six years.’ Fiona got to her feet and walked around the desk to one of the large filing cabinets. ‘Let me just dig out her file again, then you can have the exact dates.’
    ‘Great, thanks.’ He watched as she pulled out one of the drawers. ‘Tracey must be good, for you to have kept her on that long.’
    ‘Ah, you clearly don’t know how hard it is to get staff.’ Fiona sighed. ‘But yes, Tracey
is
good …’ She lifted a file out of the drawer, leafing through the pages as she returned to her desk and sat down. ‘Yes, here we are. She joined us on May the