Contents

Copyright

. Chapter

1. Chapter One

2. Chapter Two

3. Chapter Three

4. Chapter Four

5. Chapter Five

6. Chapter Six

7. Chapter Seven

8. Chapter Eight

9. Chapter Nine

10. Chapter Ten

11. Chapter Eleven

12. Chapter Twelve

13. Chapter Thirteen

14. Chapter Fourteen

15. Chapter Fifteen

16. Chapter Sixteen

17. Chapter Seventeen

18. Chapter Eighteen

19. Chapter Nineteen

20. Chapter Twenty

21. Chapter Twenty-One

22. Chapter Twenty-Two

23. Chapter Twenty-Three

24. Chapter Twenty-Four

25. Chapter Twenty-Five

26. Chapter Twenty-Six

27. Chapter Twenty-Seven

28. Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter

Meredith & Hodge Series

The Making of Meredith

Misplaced Loyalty

Ill Conceived

The Wrong Shoes

Tin Soldiers

One Secret Too Many

Mistaken Beliefs

Quite by Chance

Family Matters

Not If You Paid Me

A Measure of Guilt

Meredith & Hodge Bear Witness

Web of Deceit

Error of Judgement

Chance Encounters

Enough

Gone

A Fatal Assumption

Close to Home

Bearing Witness Series

Witness for Wendy

An Unexpected Gift

Terms of Affection

Meredith & Hodge Bear Witness

Little Compton Mysteries

The Murder

The Abduction

The Burglar

JJ Jenson Series

An Ill Wind

To Kill Two Birds

Too Many Times

Others

Who Killed Charlie Birch?

The Cuban Conundrum

Murderous Mishaps

The Recruitment of Lucy James

Copyright © M K Turner

This edition published 2025 by 127 Publishing

The rights of M K Turner to be identified as the author of this work have been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without the permission of the publisher.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed are entirely the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events is entirely co-incidental.

Paperback ISBN 978-1-0686749-8-3

Hardback ISBN 978-1-0686749-9-0

This book is dedicated to

YOU, the reader, for giving me a reason to keep making stuff up.

Acknowledgements

Edited by Sharon Kelly & Jill Buss

Cover by: https://www.behance.net/lwpmarshala1e9

Cover Photography by @xrosspurposes https://xrosspurposes.com

And of course, my wonderful beta readers

Chapter One

Corina gasped as their fingers dug into her flesh and they pulled her closer to whisper in her ear. Embarrassed, she glanced around the bar. She needn’t have worried. Nobody had any interest in them. The tinny music droned on, and the other customers chatted, laughed and drank without a care in the world. Unlike Corina.

Pulling herself free, Corina walked out of the bar as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself. She hated crying, and crying in public was unacceptable. So, chin held high, Corina pulled open the door and stepped into the night, cursing through gritted teeth as she stumbled on the step into the square. She didn’t look back, and she didn’t see them finish their drink and watch her departure.

“Steady on, love. You had one too many too? Do you need a hand?” A tall, skinny man around her own age held out a hand. The pint glass held in his other slopped its contents as he stepped towards her, his body swaying from side to side.

“Sod off!” Corina’s nose wrinkled as she flipped her hand, dismissing his offer of help. Ignoring the jeers and laughter from the group he was with, she hurried away.

It was a Saturday night, and all around her groups of merrymakers chatted and laughed noisily while puffing on their cigarettes as they huddled under the overhead heaters in the outdoor seating areas. They had no interest in her. They didn’t know what she’d done. What she’d said. The words that she couldn’t take back—could she? Should she?

Corina paused and looked up at the clouds gathered above. Her chest rose as she drew in the damp autumnal air to steady her nerves and welcomed the calm the chilly night air offered. Heading off along the waterfront, she allowed her tears of fear and frustration to arrive. That hadn’t gone as expected. Not even close to how she had imagined it. She needed to get home and come up with a plan. Would she go through with it? She didn’t know if she was brave enough, but whatever her decision there was no going back. That at least was clear. The only question that remained was how much shit she wanted to throw at the fan.

The clap of thunder startled her, and the heavens opened. Corina pulled up the collar on her coat, wishing she had an umbrella, but grateful that the rain pelting against her face washed away her tears. Not that there were many people about now. Everyone had scattered in search of cover. Head down, she hurried on, hoping that there would be a taxi waiting on the rank around the corner.

Corina didn’t know why she didn’t hear the feet running to catch up with her. Perhaps she was lost in her thoughts, or the noise of the rain pelting down on the cobbles and the water beyond had drowned out their approach. Probably a little of both, so it came as a shock when they yelled out her name. She spun around to face them.

“Oh no. Not now. I think you’ve said enough, and I’m not going through this again. Not here, not now, not ever. I’m going home. You should do the same.” Corina pushed her wet hair from her face and tilted her chin defiantly.

They ignored her and continued to shout, and looking at her feet, Corina listened to the demands made, and the lies told. She almost laughed when they made up what they didn’t know. Now that she knew what had started this, and heard the lies that fell so easily from the lips she thought she could trust, she wondered why she hadn’t worked it all out before. She shook her head in disappointment as the words flowed endlessly, knowing from the set of their shoulders and the tapping of the foot they were becoming angry with her silence.

Lifting her head, a quick glance around told her they were alone. No one could hear the demands and the lies, or any reply she gave, and she relaxed a little. Although still undecided about how far she would take it, she wanted to tell a few home truths. They deserved that. She probably should feel sorry for them, but she had been humiliated, manipulated and deceived, and it hurt. So, she tempered her words, but not their angry delivery.

“Are you following me now? You should be better than that, don’t you think? You’d be better off looking elsewhere for some answers. Pull your hood down. The rain might wash away some of the shit coming out of your mouth. Listen to yourself. Have you no pride?” Corina asked with a smirk.

The slap arrived with a torrent of abuse, most of which she didn’t hear as she stumbled backwards on the cobbles. She lost her footing, and landed on her back, her head colliding with one of the metal posts lining the water’s edge. Corina felt the heat as blood seeped from the resultant wound. Her vision blurred as she tried to get up, meaning she didn’t see them step forward, but she felt the pressure of the foot as it pushed her over the edge of the floating harbour into the cold, murky water.

The water was freezing and snatched away her breath. It took too many seconds before she realised what was happening and her arms flew out and splashed around in search of something to grab hold of. Her nails raked the slimy harbour wall. There was nothing. Panic arrived, but when she opened her mouth to call for help the water rushed in. Her head thumped in time with her heart as her arms and legs struggled against her sodden clothing. She flailed around trying to save herself.

The harbour walls were too high and too slippery and there was nothing to grab hold of. Teeth chattering, Corina tried in vain to spit out the water that kept filling her mouth while she frantically looked around for an alternative way out. She didn’t know how far along the wall she would need to swim before she would find something to help her, and anyway, they might be there. Waiting. Minutes earlier, she’d only been worried about her job. Now she was worried about her survival.

Spotting the boats moored on the other side of the harbour, Corina kicked her legs. If she could reach one of those…dragging her arms through the water, she headed for the boats.

Standing in the shadows, hand over mouth, they watched her feeble attempt to save herself. When she sank below the water the second time, they closed their eyes and squeezed the bridge of their nose with thumb and finger as if to erase the image. When they looked again Corina had disappeared. They scanned the water for a while, but Corina had gone. Hands shoved into pockets, and head down against the storm, they hurried away.

Chapter Two

Meredith jerked his thumb over his shoulder. On the screen behind him, the face of an attractive young woman smirked at the Cold Case Review Team.

“This is Corina Jones. She was a twenty-three-year-old police officer when she drowned in October 2015. Her body was found three days after she was reported missing. Although the body was recovered further upriver, it’s believed she went into the water somewhere near Pero’s Bridge. I’ll come back to that. At the time of her disappearance, she had been working as a detective constable but had only been in that role for six months. New to Bristol, she was partnered with DS Richard French. Until arriving in Bristol, she was a uniformed officer in Wiltshire and had applied for a transfer to Bristol after the death of her mother, as her brother, Harry, was also a serving officer here. Other than lungs full of water, Corina’s body had several injuries. A bruise on her right cheek, bruising on her upper left arm, and a gash on the back of her head. All caused shortly before death, possibly as she fell into the water. All other injuries were postmortem. Which brings me back to Pero’s Bridge.”

Meredith nodded at Daisy, and four photographs appeared on the screen. Three taken at the postmortem. The first was the small dark smudge on Corina’s right cheek, and the second, the bruises on her arm. An ugly gash peered out through neatly combed dark hair in the third, and the last was the base of an ornate, glossy black post. A section of the post had been circled and enlarged, and an arrow pointed to the section where the paint had chipped away.

As Meredith continued his commentary, the images on the screen behind him changed to illustrate his words.

“The original investigation traced Corina’s movements on her final evening. At eight thirty-two, she entered this bar on Millenium Square, and she left, alone, at nine seventeen and headed in the direction of the waterfront, turning towards the centre. CCTV picked her up three times after leaving the bar, and she was last seen approaching Pero’s Bridge where there is a gap in the CCTV coverage, and sod’s law means it was here that she simply disappeared. There was a rainstorm that night, and the main theory was she lost her footing and went into the river banging her head as she did so. When her body was found and the head injuries revealed, a more detailed search was undertaken in the area around Pero’s Bridge, and traces of her blood were found on the post. Luckily, the blood ran down and got caught between the chipped paint and the post, so escaped being washed away by the rain. Algae found beneath her nails matched that of the algae growing on the harbour walls around that area.”

“Why are we reopening it, Guv? Has something new happened? What was the result of the inquest?” DS Tom Seaton asked.

“The inquest recorded an open verdict. The coroner concluded that although the injuries might have been caused as she fell, hit her head and rolled into the water, the bruising on the upper arm could indicate they might also have been caused by a third party,” Meredith replied, gripping his bicep and pressing his fingers into his flesh.

“Okay, pretty standard, but why now? I’m taking it this has to do with the super being in and out of here over the last week,” said Seaton, pressing for more information.

“It has, because Chief Constable Carrington has a new pen pal. This was the first letter she received two weeks ago. Printed on cheap copier paper and posted in an envelope intended to hold a greeting card, postmarked Bristol. No fingerprints that mean anything, no forensics.” Meredith glanced at the screen as the note appeared.

Corina Jones was murdered. Her death was not an accident.

Find out her secrets and what she knew. Look very close to home.

You have three months before I go public with what I know.

“Look close to home? Where? The family? Or do they want us to think a copper did this?” George Davies asked. “I don’t like the sound of this one, Meredith. We’ll be buggered if we do and buggered if we don’t. Why us? Why not the IOPC?”

“Because at this stage, George, it could be either or none of the above. But it looks like whoever sent that note is a copper or works for the force and has access to the system. They seem to know there had been no follow-up. There was a reason for that,” Meredith replied. “This was received a week later.”

Do you not believe me?

It won’t look good for you if the media finds out you knew and did nothing.

Time to act.

“The theory being that whoever sent the letter checked to see who had accessed the files?” DS Louie Trump asked. “That in itself would leave a trail, surely, and why had nobody looked at the file?”

“Yes, it would leave a trail, and there is none. So, the best guess is it’s one of the team who worked the case, or someone who worked with Corina and knows questions aren’t being asked. I’ve spoken to Carrington, and the reason nothing happened quickly enough for her pen pal is because the OIC in charge of finding out what happened to Corina, DCI Jamie Fairweather, was killed in what was called a freak accident. But it could have been suicide. At the time of his death, he was heading up a small team, who were afterwards absorbed elsewhere, and as fate would have it, two of whom now work under DCI Bob Granville. Corina’s former boss.”

“Suicide? I knew Jamie from when he was a nipper like you. I can’t see that.” George Davies folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. “You must remember him, Meredith, he worked out of our nick for a couple of years.”

George Davies had been a uniformed sergeant for most of his career and had been responsible for recruiting the young Meredith. As a result, he was more outspoken with Meredith than most. He’d come out of retirement to work as a consultant for the CCRT.

“I remember him, although I had little to do with him, but I agree on face value he wasn’t the type. However, circumstances change,” Meredith replied.

“They do, but even so, I can’t see it. What was this freak accident?” George demanded.

“He fell from scaffolding, erected to access the leaking roof of the station where Corina was based. There were cameras, all facing out and or down, none along the platforms. Fairweather was a smoker and had previously gone out onto the scaffolding for a ciggy. There was no sign of foul play, no suicide note, and no fault in the scaffolding. He hit the carpark, but his lighter was found on the platform below the one he had been standing on, so the theory is that maybe he dropped it and attempted to recover it. Needless to say, as a result, Elizabeth Carrington wanted to look into that before she did anything else. Then her pen pal got jumpy, and she decided that rather than point fingers and create the usual uproar, she’d give it to us. I’m surprised you don’t know about Fairweather’s death. I remember it.”

“Not a dicky bird. For what it’s worth, I’m calling foul play. What a bloody shame. Did he have kids? I know he was married,” George asked.

“Two. Young teenagers when he died. I’ve read the file. Nothing in there says he was having issues, so your call might be accurate,” Meredith replied.

“Does that mean we’re investigating both deaths?” DS Louie Trump asked.

“Only indirectly at the moment. We concentrate on Corina, depending on what happens with that, we might have to move on to Fairweather. I’m hoping that won’t be the case. I know George doesn’t want to think it was suicide, but I’d rather that than have a rogue copper bumping off his colleagues.”

DS Tom Seaton grimaced. “This is going to get very messy, Guv. It’s sensitive. No disrespect, but I’m surprised we got it.”

Meredith could be subtle, but it was rare. He usually said what he meant and shot from the hip, so Patsy Hodge nodded agreement. “I agree. But when we met with Chief Superintendent Ashworth, he was adamant. Elizabeth Carrington doesn’t want the media to get hold of another bad copper story, even if they were only killing other officers, unless that’s what happened. His words not mine. Meredith did point out that he wasn’t known for his gentle approach.” Patsy Hodge gave a grin. “It fell on deaf ears.”

Patsy was Meredith’s wife and had given up a successful private investigation business to return to the force and work with the Cold Case Review Team. She used her maiden name for work.

“I don’t think the super needed telling that. How are we going to play it, Guv?” Seaton asked.

“Believe it or not, softly, softly. I want everyone we need to speak to, to believe we think it was a mugging gone wrong, or that, as the Fairweather investigation had almost concluded, it was most likely a freak accident,” Meredith replied.

“So, what’s the story on why we’re reopening it? Nothing has changed as far as they know. They’re bound to ask.” DC Will Kent leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Does anyone else not like the thought of interviewing other coppers as suspects?”

“It’s never pleasant. Tricky too, even if they’ve done nothing wrong, they’ll take offence by implication. And even if they accept the reopening as bona fide, they won’t like us thinking they missed something, which is why we need to make friends and influence people.” Meredith ignored the sniggers from his team. “As to the why now. We’ll say it’s random. No one knows how we choose our cases, but they know we’re good, so if a serving officer is responsible, he’ll be on his guard whatever our story, and he’ll be well-practised in interview techniques.”

“What about the brother?” Seaton asked. “He’s close to home and a copper.”

“He had a watertight alibi on the night Corina went missing, but he might be our pen pal. He works for traffic, accident investigator, and at the time she went missing, he was dealing with a pile-up on the interchange.”

Trump raised a finger. “Could it be connected to something she was working on? Could Corina have upset someone during an investigation, or I suppose, uncovered something or asked the wrong question?”

Meredith gave a little shake of his head. “Trump, you’re supposed to be the clever one. Yes, of course it could. If she was murdered, then she pissed someone off enough for them to believe that their only way out was to be rid of her. That’s not an easy decision to make, especially as she was a police officer. If it was a suspect, or a guilty party she was getting too close to, it was a brave action, because normally it’s no stone unturned and all that when it comes to a copper being killed. If it was a police officer who did the deed, then odds on it’s him who has the secrets, not Corina, which is why the note puzzles me. We’ll come back to what they were working on later. Loopy, why are you jiggling about?”

Linda Trump was an eccentric. She had a sharp analytical mind and found patterns and links in information invisible to others. Previously an employee of Patsy’s private investigation business, she wore vivid and unusual clothes, had wild hair, and came up with far-fetched theories, many of which had proved accurate. Meredith had nicknamed her Loopy. She was also the wife of DS Louie Trump.

“You keep saying him. It could have been a woman. Doesn’t take much strength to push someone into the water. I think you need to be more open-minded.” Linda flipped out her hands as though that should have been obvious.

Meredith rolled his eyes. “I stand corrected and will attempt not to say I told you so when we catch him, if there is anyone to catch. Which brings me neatly to those we need to speak to. Our persons of interest, if that’s what they are, are mainly men. Daisy.”

Meredith jerked his head towards the screen and a column of photographs appeared with the name and a brief resumé of each person.

Meredith talked them through it. “Corina’s team, or what remains of them. DS Richard French. Corina’s partner, officer with twenty years’ service, and ten years at the time of the murder, he was a newly promoted sergeant then. His personnel file, which I have access to, but you won’t because we’re not investigating these officers at the moment, is clean. Nothing good, nothing bad. Next, DCI Bob Granville, a seasoned copper, probably counting down the days to his retirement. Half decent clear-up rate, not as good as ours, one reprimand in his early days, which might not have been warranted. But he’s moved about a bit, four times since starting out in Birmingham, and has requested a transfer twice. Both times they were actioned. I’ve asked the questions about why and haven’t had a response yet. The super is going to speak to those who might know what’s not being said, if anything. Perhaps he gets bored, or perhaps he steps on toes or gets lippy.”

“You’ll like him then,” Seaton said. “Just what we need, posturing and breast-beating on a case like this.” Seaton’s hand covered his mouth, and he pulled a comical face as Patsy stifled a giggle. “Did I say that out loud?”

“Very funny, Seaton, I almost laughed. I’m quite looking forward to meeting him. Moving on. DC Brendon Cook. Had five years in the force when Corina died. It seems he liked Corina a lot. Didn’t have a bad word to say about her, although no one did. It seems she was saintlike, and Fairweather had written ‘Smitten’ on his notes about Cook. So it appears DC Cook fancied her. Who knows, perhaps it had gone further than that. And, last but not least, a female for Linda, DC Sophie Dawson. Ex-girlfriend of Corina’s brother, Harry, and also her flatmate. It was Sophie who reported Corina missing. We’ll watch the interview in a moment. On that note, only a few of the interviews were recorded. Mostly because at the time she went missing, it was simply a matter of collecting statements and no one had a copper in the frame for it.”

“I’m guessing we’ll record ours. What do we tell them if we’re going softly, softly?” Patsy asked. “I’m sure they’ll ask, especially DCI Granville. You would.”

“Tell them I’m anal and like to go over everything I wasn’t involved in personally. So, the truth,” Meredith replied, and he bit back his smile as the amusement showed on the faces of his team. “There were also two others on the team, who for the moment I’ve ruled out, mainly because their original statements were backed up by everyone else and they had little to do with Corina in the short time she was there. We’ll pick up on them later, if we need to. Moving on to the investigating team. Daisy.”

The screen changed.

“The investigating team. First up, DCI Fairweather, we’ve discussed him. Depending on what turns up, we may need to look closer. Then we have DS Alex Game, and DCs Andrew Binner and David English. It was established that none of these men had any connection to Corina before their team picked up the case. All of them thought it was an accident or a random act of violence. None of them thought Fairweather had jumped. Binner thought Fairweather wouldn’t have been stupid enough to fall looking for his lighter but couldn’t give an alternative explanation as he was more adamant that he wouldn’t have jumped. Their notes are pretty good. The investigation seems to have been thorough. Daisy.”

Four new faces appeared.

“Brother Harry Jones, not our killer, but possibly our pen pal. Tamsin Burton, friend of Corina, they went to school together, and both ended up living in Bristol. They were fairly close. They met on the day of Corina’s disappearance, and she thinks something was troubling Corina. Next up is Tyrone Selway. He was in the same bar as Corina on that night and was outside when she left. She stumbled, he offered to help and was told to fuck off for his trouble. He was drunk and left the bar minutes later. Selway also headed towards Pero’s Bridge, disappeared from sight in the same spot as Corina, and reappeared some thirty minutes later back in Millennium Square. He might have followed her because he was miffed at her response and pushed her in. No proof. Finally, this man. I’m guessing it’s a man, Loopy, because of his build and the size of his feet. But I’m happy to stand corrected if we find it’s a her.”

“Skipper, anyone can see that’s a man. Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.” Linda pointed towards the screen. “He has got big feet, but that’s not going to help much, is it?”

Meredith stepped back and tapped the hooded figure on the screen, and with a nod to Daisy, footage that had been pieced together played out as Meredith narrated.

“Our mystery man, let’s call him Yeti, crosses Millennium Square and enters the bar at eight fifteen, fifteen minutes before Corina. And it looks like that same man leaves two minutes after her - you will note we can’t see his feet - and two minutes before Selway, and heads in the same direction. Yeti gets lost around Pero’s Bridge too, but it’s pouring down. There are four similar-looking people to Yeti. They’re the same sort of height. Guesswork. We can’t be exact because they’re all moving about, with their heads down and hoods up, and all in dark clothing. The next sighting is probably here but given the ‘everyone looks the same’ issue, it might not be him, but he gets into a taxi at the end of Cannon’s Road, which means if it is him, he doubled back. None of the bar staff or customers, except two, remember Corina. One was Selway, the other was a mate of his. It was Saturday night, it was heaving in there and pouring down minutes later. Everyone had other things on their minds.” Merdith held up open palms. “That’s it for the best part. That’s what we’ve got.”

“If it wasn’t for the letters, you can see why the inquest had to return an open verdict. It will be interesting to see how far they dug into Corina’s personal life,” Trump observed. “You said we were going to watch the flatmate’s, Sophie’s, interview.”

Meredith didn’t reply but snapped, “Daisy.”

George sighed. “That’s him. Nice bloke.” The face of a cheery-looking, round-faced man appeared on the screen. It disappeared seconds later, and DCI Fairweather’s interview with Sophie Dawson began.

Chapter Three

“DC Dawson. Jamie Fairweather. Thank you for waiting. Sorry I’m late, the traffic was a nightmare.”

The blonde woman, now in clear view, flashed a brief but perfect smile and reached across to take his hand.

“Hello. I know. It’s the roadworks. They’ve all but hemmed us in. Do you think someone did this on purpose? To Corina I mean, not the traffic.”

“I don’t know yet. It’s possible. That’s why I’m here. I understand you shared a flat with Corina, and it was you who raised the alarm. You did that at midnight. Why? As a serving officer, you know that’s too soon for any real response. Did you think it would be different for Corina because she was a copper?”

“No. It was because I knew something was wrong. She seemed agitated before she went out, and she’d been a bit off the day before, and she was working on the next day. I’d done that Saturday, and she was doing Sunday. She wouldn’t have had a late night. Corina was the sensible one. DCI Granville likes to have someone in the office every day. It was our weekend. Paper pushing mainly.”

“Do you know why she was agitated or had been a bit off the day before?”

“No. She just kept saying she wasn’t, and that she was fine. I knew something was up but I was knackered. It had been a long week, so I ran a bath. After I’d got in the bath, she told me she was popping out. I said I’d…” Sophie rubbed her hands over her face. “I said I’d go out with her if it would help. She turned me down. I should have gone. I should have bloody gone. Have you spoken to Harry? How’s Harry? They were very close.”

“I have. Look, Sophie, may I call you Sophie?” Fairweather received a nod, and continued, “You shouldn’t blame yourself. If someone did this, then I promise you I’ll do my best to get them, and then I’ll throw the book at them. Tell me about her being off and agitated. Take me through those last two days as best you can.”

It was Friday night, and Sophie slammed the door to the flat behind her, kicked off her shoes, and as she headed for her bedroom she stopped and stuck her head around the door to the living room.

“How did you get home so early? Those bloody roadworks are even worse today. One of the temporary lights wasn’t working, and I sat there for twenty minutes. Twenty bloody minutes before the bloke at the front of the queue ignored the red and went for it.”

“I went the other way, had to pick up some dry cleaning. Do you fancy a pizza? I don’t think I can be bothered to cook.” Corina was lying out on the sofa, still in her work clothes. “I can’t even be bothered to change.”

“You left at the same time and did an errand and still got home quicker! Life isn’t fair sometimes. And no, not really in a pizza sort of mood. There’s that mince in the fridge that needs using up. We’ll end up binning it again if we don’t use it. Let’s make a spag bol or chilli. I could fancy a chilli. Have we got any rice?”

“Is it boring always being practical?” Corina swung her legs off the sofa. “Hurry up. I’m starving. Last one to get changed and get in the kitchen is cooking.”

“Sensible? Me? I’m the one who wanted to go out last night. You were the one sitting nursing a single glass of wine because we had to work today. What’s wrong? You’ve not been right all week.” Sophie disappeared into her bedroom, and leaving the door open, she stripped off and shouted to Corina, who was doing the same thing. “You didn’t answer.”

“Because you’ve asked the same stupid question every day. I’m fine. There is nothing wrong. Unless you count the dregs of humanity who we have to deal with daily. I can’t cope with them and a hangover. It really is that simple.” Corina pulled on her joggers and went to stand in the doorway of Sophie’s room. “You know what it’s like, don’t nag, you should know better. And you’re cooking.”

“I was going to anyway. You’re useless at chilli, you get the spice wrong, you can pour the drinks.”

“Which I will do with pleasure. I’ve got a lie-in tomorrow, thank God.”

Sophie groaned. “Ugh. Don’t remind me. Make mine a large one.” She waved the wooden spoon she’d collected at Corina. “And I don’t care if I have a hangover. I won’t, but if I do I’ll be fine. Why aren’t you going out tonight? I thought you might have a date with your mystery man.”

“Knackered. There is no mystery man. Stop making stuff up. Isn’t life dramatic enough?”

“Mine certainly isn’t, and you’ve got to love a bit of drama. So where were you last weekend, and don’t say Tamsin, that was during the day.”

“Soph, I’m not having this conversation again. Why aren’t you seeing Sid tonight?”

“Because. Because he didn’t ask, because I can’t be bothered, and because I’m not really that keen and it’s not fair because it wasn’t really going anywhere, so you should approve.”

“Finally. You’re seeing it how it is.” Corina nodded before getting lost in her own thoughts. She jumped when Sophie clapped her hands inches from Corina’s face.

“Earth to Corina. Blimey, you’ve got to stop saying nothing is wrong and tell me what’s on your mind. If you’re like this at work you’ll miss something. What were you thinking about right then?” Sophie demanded.

“What, miss something with Rich never more than an inch away? Hardly. That smells lovely.” Corina pointed at the frying pan. “Shall I lay the table or are we having a Netflix night?”

“She asked, avoiding the question yet again. Is Rich giving you trouble? Has he done something inappropriate? I’d never have thought it of him, but if he is, you should say something.” Corina didn’t respond, so Sophie tried again. “Is he?”

Corina flapped her hand. “No. He’s just a pain in the arse. Treats me like I’ve just left school. Anyway, pot and kettle, stop being dramatic. Top up?” Corina held up the bottle of wine.

An hour later, watching a particularly gruesome thriller, Sophie shouted in fright as the serial killer grabbed his next victim. Hand on chest, she looked over at Corina, whose head now rested on the back of the chair. She was staring at the ceiling, oblivious to what was happening around her.

“Are you not interested? I thought it was quite good…Corina, are you even listening to me?”

Corina tilted her head to look at Sophie. “Sorry, what?”

“Do you want to watch something else?”

“No, this is fine. Actually, I’m knackered. I’m going running with Tamsin tomorrow, so I think I’ll get to bed. No need to turn it down, I think I’d sleep through anything at the moment.”

Sophie didn’t have the energy to start another conversation, and she also decided to call it a night.

When she got in from work the next day, Corina was cleaning the bathroom.

“Ah no. You should have left that for me. It’s my turn and I’m going to have a soak.”

Corina sniffed. “It’s okay. I used a bath bomb. Lovely when you’re floating in it, disgusting when you get out. How was it?”

“Okay. The boss came in for a couple of hours and Sandie was working, so it went quite quickly. You?”

“Yes, fine. Do you want me to run a bath for you?” Corina pulled off a strip of toilet paper and blew her nose.

“Not yet. I have to eat, have a very large drink, and chill for a bit. Are you getting a cold?”

“Don’t think so. I did the shopping and picked up the extra special pizzas. They’re huge. We could probably share. Want me to chuck one in the oven while you change?” Corina asked, flushing away the tissue and turning to face her flatmate.

“You’ve been crying? What’s happened?” Sophie held out her arms. “Do you need a hug?”

Corina knocked them down and brushed past her. “Don’t be ridiculous. I have not. Probably am getting a cold. Are we sharing a pizza?”

“You’re lying, but I’m fed up with asking. Go on then.” Sophie headed for her bedroom. She knew Corina was lying, but if she didn’t want to talk about it, she wouldn’t push it. Sophie had heard her talking the night before. It hadn’t been for long, and although she couldn’t hear what was being said, Corina had raised her voice several times.

Pizza eaten, Sophie loaded the dishwasher. “So, how was the run with Tamsin? Pass that mug. This needs to go on.”

“Yeah, okay. I must be getting fitter. I did the whole course without stopping. We had lunch in the new Greek place on Cotham Hill. Nice food, quite reasonable too. You’d like it. All the staff are men, with big smiles and long eyelashes.” Corina twitched her eyebrows at Sophie. “You wouldn’t know where to start.”

“I’ll book a table then. So, did you? Know where to start? I mean, if you haven’t got a bloke at the moment, despite your disappearing acts, and you noticed the eyelashes, did you chat any of them up? Wouldn’t want to step on any toes.” Sophie hit the start button, and the dishwasher started churning. “I loaded it. You can empty it. Hate that job. Now for my long soak. What are you doing tonight? Fancy going across the road for a couple? It’s the weekend, and we stayed in last night.” Sophie went into the bathroom and started running her bath. Returning to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, she pointed at Corina. “You didn’t answer.”

“Not for me. I’m working tomorrow, and as you’re not, it will end up being more than a couple.”

“Scout’s honour, just two. I’ll tell you what, let’s see if I still fancy it once I’m out. I am knackered, so I might change my mind. Are you expecting a call?”

“No. Why?” Corina slid her phone into the middle of the breakfast bar.

“Because you keep looking at your phone.”

“No. Not expecting anything.” Corina tutted. “Don’t start, Soph. I’m not in the mood, it’s getting boring.”

Sophie pursed her lips. “I’ll believe you. Right, you look pissy as hell. Let’s lighten the mood, I’ll get in the bath, and you can describe the long-lashed staff to me, one by one.”

Corina grinned. “Go on then. Give me a shout when you’re ready for me. I’m not watching you shave your legs.”

Sophie relaxed into her bath, allowing the week to soak away. Something was going on with Corina, she was usually bouncy and gregarious when she wasn’t at work. But perhaps Sophie was pushing too hard. She didn’t know how long she’d been there when Corina stuck her head around the door.

“I’m popping out, but I won’t be long. I’ll do the describing when I get back.” Corina pulled the door shut.

“Where are you going?” Sophie called after her, and inspecting her wrinkled fingers, pulled the plug and climbed out of the bath.

“Just popping into town. I won’t be long. Do you think it’s going to rain?”

“Town? Hold up. I’ll come with you.”

“No, it will take you too long to get ready. I’ll be an hour, two at the most. I’m not drinking because I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“So why are you going into town?” Wrapping a towel around her body, Sophie opened the bathroom door. “I know you wouldn’t go to town on your own. Who are you meeting?” The front door slammed. “Bye then.”

Three hours later, Sophie checked her phone. No reply. She hit the call button and Corina’s answer service picked up. “It’s me. As you’re ignoring my texts, I’m knackered and I want to go to bed, and as you’ve been acting weird all week, if you don’t call me in the next ten minutes, I’m reporting you missing. I’m not kidding, Corina, I’m bloody worried about you. You’ve got work tomorrow, and it’s nearly midnight. I will do it.”

Five minutes later, she called Corina’s brother. “Harry, it’s Sophie. Sorry, I know it’s late but I’m worried about Corina. She’s been acting strange, and she said she was popping out for an hour and she isn’t home. It’s midnight, and she has work tomorrow, and she’s not here. Have you heard from her? Call me.”

Sophie’s phone rang five minutes later.

“Sophie, I’m working. But I’ve got a minute. Waiting for a low-loader. What does strange mean?”

Sophie explained her concerns.

“Sounds like you’re being a bit dramatic. It’s probably a boyfriend. Have you been being over the top nosy? Could she be ignoring you?”

“No, I have bloody not. She is ignoring me, but the question is why. Are you not even a little worried?” Sophie demanded.

“I’ll call her. If…I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later.” Harry hung up and the sound of beeping as a vehicle reversed ended.

Harry hadn’t called back. It was now past midnight, and Sophie called it in.

At three o’clock, she threw off the throw covering her and snatched up the phone on the second ring.

“Is she back?” Harry asked.

“No. Did you get hold of her?”

“No. I’ve tried a couple of times. It doesn’t even ring now. I’m soaked. I’ll have a shower and come over. Is that okay?”

Sophie held up her hands. “And he did. And we waited. At eight the next morning, I called DCI Granville to let him know, and he said she might have got lucky and would turn up for work in the previous day’s clothes, and I realised I didn’t even know what she was wearing. I checked her bedroom, and the joggers she’d been wearing were on her bed, but then they would be. She wouldn’t go into town in them.” Sophie covered her face with her hands. “God, this is so bloody awful.” She lowered her hands. “I hope she just slipped over in the rain. She was such a nice girl. No one would do this on purpose, would they?”

“I hope not. So, going back to her looking at her phone, you’d heard her speaking to someone the night before. Did you hear anything before she told you she was going out?”

“Nothing. I think I would have. Our flat is all floorboards, rugs and high ceilings, so you can hear every little sound. I can tell you what time the bloke upstairs has a pee in the night. She might have had a message, though. Have you checked her phone records?”

“Not yet. They’re on the way.”

Chapter Four

Seaton flipped through the file Linda had passed around during the interview. It contained only a timeline summary, the postmortem report, photographs, and reference numbers to the more detailed files held online.

“No mention of phone records. Any reason?” Seaton asked.

“They’re on the system file. Checked and considered useless. We might have to look at them. But she certainly didn’t get a call or text before she left the flat that night. Nothing from the night before, either.”

“That can’t be right, Sophie heard her voice raised? Who was she shouting at? Oh, she might have had another phone, that would explain it,” Linda suggested. “If she did, it might be at the bottom of the harbour somewhere.”

“If she did, it wasn’t found, and it wasn’t registered to her. But then a phone in that harbour would be like a needle in the proverbial and would require an extensive and expensive search, so it didn’t happen,” Meredith replied.

“So she probably had a pay-as-you-go. But then that raises the question why a serving police officer would be using a burner. We definitely need to look at who she came into contact with in Bristol. Maybe even her previous posting, because that’s suspicious.” Kent shook his head and tutted. “Like George said, we’re going to be wading in the mucky stuff on this one.”

“Agreed. Settle down. This is the interview with her friend Tamsin.” Meredith pointed at the screen. “Daisy.”

Fairweather pushed a box of tissues across the table. “I know how hard this is for you, Tamsin, and I know you’ve already spoken to an officer, but now we’ve found Corina’s body, we need to be absolutely sure we didn’t miss anything, or perhaps you might have remembered something in the meantime.”

“There’s nothing. It was a normal Saturday morning run. Except we had lunch. We don’t always have lunch. We just had a chat, which was mainly me moaning about work and us judging how fit the waiters were, and that was it.”

Tamsin Burton was petite. Five feet two at most, Fairweather reckoned. She was also of slight build. The opposite of Corina, who had been five feet nine, and curvaceous, although both were attractive, and must have turned heads when out together. He was sure the waiters appreciated their attention. He watched as she clasped her hands together to stop their fidgeting.

“Corina’s flatmate Sophie has suggested Corina had something on her mind. Corina had not been her usual bubbly self and had appeared agitated all week. On the day that you saw her, Sophie believed that just before she got home Corina had been crying.”

“Crying, I don’t—“

“Why don’t you talk me through your day with Corina and I’ll ask any questions I might have at the end?”

“I’ll do my best. Where do you want me to start? Excuse me.” Tamsin pulled a tissue from the box and blew her nose.

“Where did you meet on Saturday?”

“At Corina’s flat. We go running on the Downs, it’s closer. I live…you already know that, you’ve just confirmed it. I’m sorry, it’s finding out she’s definitely dead. There was always hope until you found her, so I’m not thinking straight.” Tamsin cast her eyes around the non-descript interview room as she considered how horrible it must be to drown in the dirty waters of the harbour. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“Start with when you arrived at the flat and talk me through to when you parted company. There’s no rush.”

“Dump your stuff in my bedroom, grab my water bottle, it’s in the kitchen, and I’ll be with you.”

Corina lifted her trainers from the shoe rack and went into the living room. Tamsin appeared in the doorway, holding two bottles, and watched Corina tie her laces.

“You’ll need a fleece. It’s bloody freezing again. Are those new trainers?” Tamsin asked.

“Nope, I chucked them in the washing machine with the towels. Never done that before, always bought new ones when I became too ashamed to be seen in them. It worked. Who knew?” Corina asked, holding up a foot for inspection.

“Everyone who can’t afford new ones when they get dirty. As we’re having lunch, I take it we’re only doing one lap, or maybe two, if we cut out the bit the other side of Ladies’ Mile.”

“Not given it a thought. Have you?” Corina grabbed a zip up hoodie off the back of the armchair.

“Of course, because I know where we’re having lunch. I even washed my hair this morning, so I don’t want to get too sweaty.” Tamsin patted her hair. “I’ve come armed with wet wipes and deodorant.”

“Good luck with that. Even half a lap usually ends up with us looking like we need oxygen. What and where is this place that requires us not to look like sweaty Bettys? I didn’t wash my hair this morning. Pass those keys.”

“It’s not the place, as such, it’s the staff. We’re going to the Greek on Cotham Hill. Sandie, the receptionist at our place, reckons every one of the waiters look like they’ve just stepped off the pages of a Greek firefighters’ calendar.”

“I hope she didn’t exaggerate. I could do with cheering up.” Corina pulled the door shut behind them.

“Why? What’s going on?” Tamsin skipped down the stairs to the street behind Corina.

“Nothing new. Work, men, you know. Don’t want to talk about it because it’s too bloody depressing.” Corina began her warm-up stretches. “Oh, I forgot to ask, did you get the promotion you went for?” Tamsin mirrored her actions. “Don’t know. Someone is on holiday, might know by Wednesday. Are you not seeing that bloke then? The one you wouldn’t tell me about in case you jinxed it.”

Corina answered as she jogged away, unwilling to have that conversation. “I said I’m not talking about it. Get a move on. We have men to admire.”

As they ran a shortened circuit of the Downs, they didn’t speak other than to agree on their route. When they came to a halt, Tamsin flopped over, her hands hanging down towards her feet, and concentrated on controlling her breathing. Then, linking her fingers, she slowly straightened up until her back arched and she looked at the dismal grey sky and filled her lungs with the damp air. She blew it out with a grunt.

“Bloody hell. I thought we were taking it easy. That was probably our fastest time. You were possessed. You only run like that when you’re angry. What’s up? Let’s go back to why you need cheering up.” Tamsin pointed her water bottle at Corina before taking a long draught.

“Nothing. I wish everyone would stop asking that. It’s getting really irritating. I was just keen to get to this restaurant. You painted too vivid a picture.”

Back at Corina’s flat, they focused on making themselves presentable and headed for the restaurant, where the two women enjoyed an entertaining lunch. The staff were attentive and amusing, and the food was delicious. Shortly before leaving, Tamsin visited the toilets, when she returned, Corina pulled her phone away from her ear and put it in her bag.

Smiling, she said, “All done. I’ve paid the bill. Much as I’d like to sit here and watch the action, I think they need the table. Have you got everything? Let’s go.”

They called their thanks to the staff as they left.

When they got back to Corina’s flat, Tamsin suggested doing something else. “Are you doing anything later? Do you fancy seeing what’s on at the cinema?”

“Ah, you should have said. I’ve got some stuff I need to sort out, and I might be going out tonight.” Corina handed Tamsin her backpack. “Let’s do one night in the week. Wednesday would be best for me. I’m off on Thursday.”

“Going out? Where? That’s why I suggested the cinema, you never go out out on a work night.” Tamsin slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

“It’s a work thing, and not out out, not by a long way. See you next week.”

Tamsin blinked rapidly. “Only I won’t, will I? That didn’t help you at all, did it? Nothing happened.”

“I don’t know. You’ve told me a few things I didn’t know. For instance, Corina hadn’t told anyone else she planned to go out that night, and there was no work thing on that we know about. That needs looking into. Do you know who she called at the restaurant?”

“I don’t even know if she made a call. It could have been a message she was listening to, or someone could have called her. When I came out of the loo, she had her phone to her ear but she wasn’t speaking. And I didn’t ask her about it, you wouldn’t, would you?”

“No, I don’t suppose you would. What about the man she’d been seeing? Do you know who it was?”

“Nope. She was quiet a couple of weeks before, and I asked her what was troubling her? She said, ‘I’m not saying, I don’t want to jinx it’, and I said it must be a man, and asked if I needed to wish her luck. ‘Always’, she answered. Corina never mentioned it again, and I didn’t like to. If it was something she had wanted and it had all gone wrong, what was the point of raking it up and upsetting her?”

With a nod from Meredith, Daisy stopped the recording.

“Nothing else discussed was of any use to us. No calls logged on her phone that day, either, and all messages had been deleted.”

“I wonder what question she was answering when she said always,” Trump pondered. “Was she saying yes, always a man, or yes, she always needed luck? Could be both, of course, but not necessarily.”

Meredith nodded agreement. “We’ll be speaking to Tamsin in the not-too-distant future. We can ask her what she thought. None of the other interviews were recorded. So your job for what remains of today is to read through the transcripts. These were coppers speaking to coppers, and at the time these conversations took place, there was no suspicion of foul play. And they are all brief. Corina was a lovely girl, a hard worker, a good laugh, no trouble, no worries, no known boyfriend and so on. We’ve also pulled up some notes about the death of DCI Fairweather. Linda will let you have the references. But don’t get too drawn in on that one. We’ll hit that once we’ve dealt with Corina. Solving that case might point us in the right direction with Fairweather. Once we’re familiar with what we’ve got, we’ll start again. Questions?” No one had any, and Meredith nodded. “Good. Get on with it. I have a meeting with DCI Bob Granville. Hodge, I’ll see you at home.”

Chapter Five

DCI Bob Granville stood waiting at the top of the stairs for Meredith, he smiled and held out his hand as Meredith stepped onto the landing.

“Meredith. Nice to meet you. Bob Granville. This way.”

Meredith followed him through the double doors and assessed Granville as he led the way through the open plan room to a small office in the corner, created by glazed panels. Granville was around Meredith’s age, and Meredith assumed he would be considered good-looking. He was a little shorter than Meredith, but with broader shoulders and a thicker waist. Thick salt and pepper hair, which, if not cut short, would have produced curls, framed his tanned face. His suit was well cut, his shoes highly polished. Granville moved with the confidence of a man used to being in control, and although his smile was pleasant, his eyes were suspicious. But then, Meredith reasoned, if the roles were reversed, so would he be. As they passed through the room, Meredith spotted DS Richard French. French smiled and nodded as their eyes met. French clearly knew who Meredith was, and Meredith wondered how much Granville knew and had shared with his team. Perhaps the super had warned Granville.

“Have a seat.” Granville gestured to a chair as he made his way around the desk and dropped into his own.

Meredith looked out at the desks beyond as he closed the door. “This reminds me of my old setup. My office was exactly the same, except not so tidy.” He looked at Granville’s desk. Screen, keyboard, one tray with a few files, a phone, a notebook and pen, and a family photograph. Granville was younger in the picture. Dark hair, a little slimmer, and only a little better looking. Granville had aged well. His wife and two kids, one of each, were attractive. A perfect example of the perfect family. “Even had the glass walls. These days it’s all open plan, although I’m still stuck in the corner.”

“I’m guessing that’s by choice. I hear you’re the golden boy.” Granville raised his eyebrows as he loosened his tie and adjusted his tie pin.

Meredith laughed. “I don’t know who you’ve been talking to, but nothing could be further from the truth. Between you and me, I think they’re looking for ways to offload me without a fuss. Ashworth and Carrington will fly the flag when I walk out for the final time. I’m successful, I’ll give you that. It’s what pisses them off the most, they haven’t got a good enough reason to get rid of me. Yet. You’d think they’d be grateful. But although I’m getting old and jaded, I don’t mind ruffling feathers or causing grief, if it gets the job done, because that’s why we’re all here, isn’t it? To get the job done. If not, who would put up with the stuff we see, the people we have to deal with, and the shit that gets thrown in increasing volume from an ever greater height?”

Granville leaned back in his chair, clearly amused. “Just as well we’re not armed, or you’d be waving your Magnum around and telling people to ‘make your day’. So, let’s get down to it. What do you think I’ve cocked up on? Which case are you going to use to show me the error of my ways?” He smiled as he spoke, but the suspicion remained in his eyes.

Meredith returned his smile. “I don’t like ice cream. But getting serious, it’s not one of your cases that brings me here, it’s the death of Corina Jones.”

Granville hadn’t been expecting that, and frowning, he linked his fingers behind his head. “Corina? Why? Has something new come up?”

The look on Granville’s face told Meredith that he’d not known the reason for the visit. Carrington and Ashworth were good at keeping secrets, so did he know French? French had certainly recognised him, and Meredith didn’t think their paths had crossed before.

Meredith shrugged. “Not yet. Only just opened the file. But I’m hoping it will. We’ll be going over poor old Fairweather’s case with a fine-tooth comb, of course, but the first thing that struck me was that Corina’s team weren’t questioned in any depth. She was still just AWOL at the stage your lot were spoken to. Her body hadn’t been found, and the injuries she sustained weren’t known about. Fairweather didn’t revisit your team after her body had been dragged out of the water and he knew it could be foul play. I don’t know why. Perhaps because he didn’t live long enough. I understand he took a header from the scaffolding around this building. That must have been nasty.”

“Bloody horrific is what it was. He seemed like a nice bloke. First Corina and then him. It did little for moral, that’s for sure.” Granville grimaced.

“What was he doing here? Was he looking to do more in-depth interviews?” Meredith asked as he stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankle.

“No idea. Didn’t speak to him, he was going down as I was coming up. His was a one-way journey. I didn’t even know it was him for a couple of hours. Did you know him?”

“Only to nod at. Back in the day we were working out of the same nick, but different departments, our paths didn’t cross much. The duty sergeant at the time is part of my team now. He knew him, and he was shocked. He even said he’d put money on it not being suicide. George isn’t a betting man. But like I told him, that’s not our concern. Our concern is finding out what happened to Corina, so here I am.”

“Suicide? I thought they assumed he’d fallen trying to retrieve his lighter?”

“They did, but with no evidence of that, it’s a best guess, and it sounds better than suicide or worse. I don’t like assumptions, but like I say, not my concern. So, back to what is my concern, I wanted to run through the names of your team at the time to make sure no one is missing who worked with Corina, and to set up some interviews. We also need to speak to the investigating team. I understand you ended up with a few of them, so this is fair warning that over the next few weeks, I’m going to be asking for them to come over and speak to us, and I’d be grateful if you didn’t give them too much grief and made sure they had the time to pop over without me having to chase them.”

Granville’s frown had deepened, and he gave a shake of his head as Meredith stopped speaking.

Meredith raised his hands. “I can see that delights you, and I know that’s going to be a pain in the arse, so if you’d rather my team camped out in this building, so it’s not so time-consuming for your lot, and less irritating to you, the super has said we can squash into a room upstairs. If that’s the way you’d prefer it to go, I wouldn’t mind a look before I leave.”

Granville nodded. Meredith guessed he was weighing up the lesser of the two evils, even though Meredith had no intention of moving.

Granville shrugged. “Let’s see how it goes. You stay put for now, but with no disrespect to Corina, or yourself, of course, I am running live cases, so I might change my mind. My cases have to take precedence.” Granville glanced out into the main room. “French and Cook are here if you want to take advantage now.”

“As are you. Thanks for the offer, but not at the moment. It’s the first day, haven’t got all the facts before me yet. If we start too soon, it’ll mean coming back and wasting everyone’s time. I’ll take five minutes to introduce myself, though. They’ll need to get their old notebooks out.”

“Why?” Granville asked.

“Why what? Why will I introduce myself, or why will they need their notebooks?”

Granville resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “The latter.”

“Because we think it’s foul play. Might have been manslaughter as opposed to murder, you know, someone random tried to grab her bag, she fell, knocked her head and rolled into the water, but it could have been someone you were investigating who didn’t like her poking her nose in. I need to know what she was working on in the six months she’d been in your department, and what the rest of the team thought or think about that possibility.”

“So you disagree with Fairweather’s conclusions, because I don’t. Corina was a good cop, a nice girl, and what we were working on was trivial in the scheme of getting yourself killed for it. That’s my humble opinion, of course. You might know something I don’t.”

“I know very little at the moment, this only landed on my desk yesterday, but what I do know is that Fairweather hadn’t shelved it. His final report, before his unfortunate demise, stated that it looked like misadventure, but he still had a few leads to follow up. The file was still very much on his desk.”

Granville pursed his lips, and his eyebrows rose. “I didn’t know that. What were they?”

Meredith laughed. “Give me a break. Like I said, I only got this case yesterday afternoon. We’ve still got paperwork coming out of our ears on the last case we closed. I’ve only done the initial team briefing today and visited you. I’ll know more tomorrow. My team is sifting through the necessary as I speak. If there’s anything in that, we’ll find it. Ask me again tomorrow, I might know more.”

Granville’s lips attempted a smile. “Am I seeing you tomorrow?”

“Possibly. Probably Friday though. I’ll be in touch.” Meredith pulled his legs in and got to his feet. “I’ll leave you to get on because I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m taking it you’ve got no questions for me?”

“Only the one I asked when you told me. Why this case, and why now?”

“I can’t tell you that. When we started the CCRT, the super gave us a stack of files and told us to take our pick. Now I get an email, or a call, if he’s in a good mood, telling me what we’re doing next. Other than the fact the cases are all years old, it’s just like you. I never know what’s going to hit the desk next. Or who will be at the end of the phone.”

“So, random then?”

“As much as these things can be. They might chuck names into a hat for all we know. I just get on with it and roll with the punches as best I can. Now and then I hit back, but it rarely gets me anywhere.” Meredith saluted. “I’ll call you once we’ve lined up the ducks.”

Granville nodded agreement, and muttered, “Can’t bloody wait” as Meredith closed the door. He watched as Meredith crossed the room and spoke to Brendon Cook. It was clear Meredith already knew who Cook was, and Granville wondered what Meredith wasn’t telling him. Frowning, he picked up his phone and pretended to be otherwise engaged as he watched Meredith’s interaction with his men. His frown deepened as French left the room with Meredith.

When Meredith arrived home, Patsy wasn’t there. He resisted the urge to call her and collecting the fish pie that Peggy had dropped in the day before, he popped it in the oven and headed for the shower.

A serial killer had attacked Patsy on a previous case, almost killing her. Patsy had recovered from her physical injuries, but the psychological impact, and believing she was pregnant by her attacker, had caused her to leave him. Meredith had brought her home but still lived with his own demons.

Wondering if they would ever leave him, he was startled when she spoke to him.

“Leave it running. I’ll jump in as you’ve taken care of dinner. How did it go with DCI Granville?”

“Much as I thought it would. Although…I don’t know, something was off. He appeared relieved we weren’t reopening one of his cases, and confused why we would bother about Corina’s. As Kent suggested, he tried to dig into why we’d reopened it.”

“Do you think he’s got something to hide?” Patsy asked.

“Can we talk about this over dinner? I’m dissolving in here.”

“I didn’t ask you to wait. I said leave it running.”

“If not, why not? Get your skates on, or probably more accurate, your clothes off.”

“No time, husband. Someone put a pie in the oven. I’m not going to be the one to tell Peggy we managed to burn it.” Patsy drew back the shower curtain. “Out.”

“She’ll never have to know. But if you’re being sensible, I’ll try not to be too offended.” Meredith pulled a towel from the rail and flicked it at Patsy before wrapping it around his waist. “I think the beard has to go. Not tonight, but the weekend when I’ve got time. You never used to refuse a shower when I was clean-shaven.”

Patsy pulled the shower curtain closed. “Not true. But I’ll leave it up to you. You were going to tell me if you thought Granville had something to hide.”

“No I wasn’t. I was going to wait for you to join me and then ravish you. But as you’ve knocked me back, I’m going to slip into something comfortable and open a tin of peas or chop a carrot. I’m sulking.”

Patsy smiled into the water. “Not like you to sulk.”

“No. Just demonstrates how upset I am.”

When Patsy walked into the kitchen, she found the table laid, and Meredith dishing up.

“This is nice. You can’t be sulking that much. If I pour you a glass of wine, will you tell me about Granville?”

“Nothing to tell. He was guarded, but that may change when he realises it’s not about him.”

“But it might be. So we’ll see.” Patsy placed the glasses on the table and collected the wine from the fridge.

“I’ll tell you what was interesting, French. I thought he knew I was going to be there, because he acknowledged my arrival as though he was expecting me. But he didn’t. He knew who I was because he does his homework and reads the, whatsit called, the force newsletter thing. He wanted to know how and if he could apply to join us.”

“Wow. Your fame travels, DCI Meredith. That’s unexpected. What did you tell him?” Patsy accepted her dinner from Meredith. “Thanks.”

“That we were considered to be over-staffed, and the powers that be were looking to streamline, not expand at the moment. I told him I’d bear him in mind if anything changed, because he might be more forthcoming if he wants to impress me.”

“You didn’t like him? Why?” Patsy forked some pie into her mouth. “She’s done it again. This is ridiculously good. Remind me to call her when we’ve finished.”

“I didn’t not like him. It was a five-minute conversation. But he reads the newsletter. I don’t think that bodes well. Don’t look at me like that. He reminded me of one of those kids at school who always volunteers to help when he could be outside kicking a ball around. Amanda used to call them keeners.”

“May I remind you that you didn’t like Linda in the beginning? You thought she wasn’t in full possession of her faculties. Yet she was top of your list when you were setting up the CCRT.” Patsy pointed at him with her fork. “You need to open your mind, DCI Meredith. You might miss something.”

“Loopy is the exception that proves the rule. Anyway, Loopy was top because you two came as a package. You will remember that without you I wasn’t going to do it. I’m happy with the team I’ve got. If and when we get more bodies, I’ll be doing the choosing. Are you laughing at me? I’ve never been wrong before.” Meredith tried to keep a straight face, but the glint in his eye showed his amusement.

“I wouldn’t dare. Is that your phone?” Patsy tilted her head. “Yep. Someone’s after you.”

Meredith rolled his eyes. “That’s not good news.” He went to retrieve his phone. When he returned, he placed it on the table. “Don’t recognise the number, and they didn’t leave a message.”

When it rang again, ten minutes later, Meredith raised his eyebrows at Patsy as he listened to the caller.

“I don’t see why not. Make it after lunch, though. I have a busy morning…Yep, that will be fine. See you tomorrow, Richard.” Meredith hung up and, lips pursed, drummed his fingers on the table. “Interesting.”

“Are you going to tell me?”

“Richard French, he’s certainly a keener. He’s already gone through his notebooks and thinks there’s something we should know.” Meredith smiled. “And we’re off.”

“We are. I’m surprised you didn’t have him in at the crack of dawn,” Patsy replied. “Might give us the right direction to kick off in.”

“That’s because I’m not a keener to anyone looking, and I want to know what, if anything, the team has latched onto. You haven’t mentioned it, and knowing you are also in the keen camp, I’m guessing there wasn’t anything.”

“A few bits to follow up on. But not anything to stop me from going to bed on time. We have the gym in the morning.” Patsy smiled. “Unless, of course, you’d rather stay up and talk shop. Would you?”

“I would not. I would also like us to stick to our agreement of every other day for the gym,” Meredith replied.

“I think you’ll find that was your suggestion, and no agreement was made. Are we going to bed?”

“Are you tired?”

“Not yet.”

“Then yes, get up those stairs.”

Chapter Six

Meredith concluded the morning briefing. “So, get them all booked in over the next two weeks. Loopy and Daisy, do your thing on the socials and get Corina’s phone records for the year before. I’m guessing Fairweather didn’t go back that far. And because our interviewees are likely to just walk in, we’ll have to dispense with using the whiteboard, we don’t want anyone seeing something they shouldn’t. Girls, you can get one set up on the system for us to access. Do your thing and let me have a look at it. I want all the key players with brief notes, and I mean brief, Loopy, because what do I like?”

“The headlines, Skipper. You have already said this, you know.” Linda shook her head.

“Have I? Your dazzling outfit probably affected my memory today. We’ve not had gold in the office before.”

Linda Trump was renowned for her unusual fashion sense, and today was wearing a gold lame blouse, complete with shoulder pads, tucked into brown hareem pants. Meredith hadn’t noticed her yellow trainers.

“I thought it would brighten up the office. This is vintage. From the eighties. I’m glad you like it.”

“How could I not?” Meredith asked, deadpan, and then winked at her before returning his attention to the team. “Anything else? No? Good. Trump and Kent will work on the investigating team. Hodge and Seaton will take her workmates. George, I want you to see who’s still around in uniform in both locations and collect the gossip about any of them. Now or then, we need to know what…” Meredith stopped speaking as the door opened and DCI Bob Granville walked in.

“DCI Granville, we weren’t expecting you. An early bird. Team, this is DCI Granville, and I rest my case. Everyone get on with it.” Meredith held his hand towards the door Granville had just entered. “This way. As I said, I don’t have a glass cupboard.”

“I was hoping to sit in on your briefing. Seems like I missed it.” Granville scanned the room.

“The briefing was brief because we’re still wading through the paperwork. Was there anything else? Perhaps, as you’re here, we could get your interview out of the way?”

Granville hesitated for a moment. “Go on then.” Granville walked towards Meredith, who turned away from him.

“Seaton, Hodge, get what you need. I’ll find somewhere available.” Meredith turned back to Granville. “This way.”

“Is that your full team?” Granville asked as they headed down to the interview rooms.

“It is, and they still think it’s top heavy, but what can you do? Watch your back.” Meredith stepped back and allowed a disgruntled prisoner to be led back to the cells. “Busy this morning. We should be okay down at the end. Yep, here we go. They shouldn’t be long.” Meredith flipped the sign on the door to engaged. “They’ll be recording this. I’ll get someone to bring you some coffee. I hope you like cake.”

“I thought it would be you speaking to me. Not that it makes any difference. Black, no sugar, and no cake.” Granville sat in the nearest chair. “All a bit formal, isn’t it?”

“Them, because they’ve read the files. And formal because it might be a murder investigation, so, yes, we keep it formal. No cockups that way.”

Granville barked out a laugh. “I didn’t kill Corina, Meredith.”

“Glad to hear it. That would have been a bit too easy. I’ll be upstairs if you need me. They’re on their way.” Meredith headed back up the corridor, and as he approached Patsy and Seaton he winked at them. “Granville tells me he didn’t do it, and he knows it’s being recorded. Don’t forget softly, softly.” He looked at Patsy. “He might get miffed. Don’t rise to it.”

Patsy merely raised her eyebrows.

“We’re not ready for this, Guv, only still in a position where we’re covering old ground. We might need to speak to him again.”

“I know that, and if he’s got any sense, so does he. He’s testing the waters. What you need to find out is why? Because if it was me, I’d make you come looking.” Meredith took the stairs back to the office two at a time. He pointed at Linda as he entered. “Loopy, get interview room ten up on that now. Then take them coffee. He’s black, no sugar, and he doesn’t want cake.”

Seaton glanced up at the camera. “This is an informal meeting with DCI Robert Granville regarding the life and death of Corina Jones, present are DS Tom Seaton and Patsy Hodge. DC Corina Jones was serving under DCI Granville at the time of her death.”

“She was a good kid, you know,” Granville volunteered. “She was bright, quick on the uptake and fitted into the team like she’d known them for years. Such a shame.”

Seaton nodded as Granville spoke. “We understand Corina was partnered with Richard French. How did they get on?”

Granville’s shoulders twitched. “Corina got on with everyone. I didn’t hear any moaning from either of them. Or any other member of the team or anyone from the public come to that. She was close to Sophie Dawson. They shared a flat. It was Sophie who called her in missing. She knew her better than anyone, so if Corina had any issues Sophie would have known, but that ground has been covered. She didn’t.”

“Covered, but not in any great detail,” Patsy told him. “Corina was irritable the week before she died, particularly on the day she died, and she did arrange to meet someone at the bar that night, although we’ve yet to find out who. DCI Fairweather hadn’t closed the case, so hopefully we’ll find out why not.”

“How do you know she arranged to meet someone? Sophie didn’t say that, and Fairweather never mentioned it. Not that I know of, anyway.” Granville frowned.

“Common sense. Before she left the house, she kept looking at her phone. Sophie offered to go with her, Corina declined, and she went into a busy bar. Women don’t do that on their own. When she left the bar, she was…” Patsy flipped through her notes. “Pissy as hell, according to what a witness said. She might have been stood up, or she might have rowed with the man who followed her out.” Patsy closed her notebook. “It’s clear you didn’t know anything about this, so let’s talk about what you were working on.”

“At the time of her disappearance and death, an assault. GBH. It was messy because it was a domestic. Couple in an on-off relationship. Corina and Rich only interviewed the neighbours, and I think the woman’s sister. She had no dealings with the victim or the man responsible. Nor anyone at all who might take his side.” Granville said. “Even—“

Patsy interrupted him. “That you know of. It might be one of the neighbours thought she had what was coming and said something to him. Unlikely, but not beyond the realm of possibility. What was the outcome?”

“Didn’t make it to court. She withdrew her complaint. He moved out with a warning. Everyone was happy to move onto the next one.” Granville didn’t take his eyes off Patsy.

“Do we know why she withdrew the complaint?” Patsy asked.

“Not off the top of my head. It’s quite common, as I’m sure you know, Patsy. Would you like me to find out?”

“No, I’ll do it. Thank you. The file number will be sufficient when you have time.”

Granville’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t pass comment. Tom Seaton jumped in, sensing Patsy was irritating the man.

“What else were you working on? That’s small fry, not enough to take the entire team. What more was going on? I know it’s unlikely to be connected, but DCI Meredith will want to know.”

“A suspected fraud with a builder and an elderly couple, and…” Granville closed his eyes and drummed the table. “Two days before, an affray charge. Punch-up outside of a restaurant on Stapleton Road. We had two of the ringleaders. We were looking for the third. But that would be grasping at straws. The only other thing was an old girl convinced her cleaner was ripping her off. Uniform had looked into it, and there seemed to be something going on, although not with the cleaner. It was painful because she was in the early stages of dementia, and her one and only son wasn’t interested, as to him it was pennies, and his mother wasn’t with it. His words not mine. It was a couple of grand, so we were following up. Again, nothing that would get Corina killed, if that’s what happened to her.”

“Grasping at straws is what we do best. Can you let me have all the case numbers, please?” Patsy pulled a card from the back of her notebook. “My email address.”

Granville picked up the card and smiled. “Senior Investigator. No rank?” He formed his words as a question.

“Not anymore. I used to. I came back into the fold when Chief Superintendent Ashworth invited me to join the CCRT. It’s why Tom is here. Would you rather he asked the questions?”

“Interesting.” Granville smiled. “And no, you carry on. You’re doing a sterling job.”

“Thank you. Tell me about the rest of your team. The ones around at the time. You say Corina was…let’s use perfect to sum it up. Did they all think so?” Patsy asked.

A few lines appeared on Granville’s forehead. “Like I said, I had no complaints about her. Do you know differently?”

“Oh no. I didn’t mean did anyone not like her. I should have phrased that differently. I meant the opposite. Corina was an attractive young lady, so I was asking if anyone showed an interest in her emotionally. From the list we have, your team was all male apart from Corina and Sophie. Was there any romantic interest, reciprocated or not?” Patsy believed that whatever answer she got, it would be politically correct because she was there. It might have been different if she weren’t, so Granville’s answer surprised her.

“She was very attractive. As is Sophie. Most of us are married, the others spoken for, and I discourage team romances. They rarely end well, and that causes distractions. From your expression, I don’t think you believe me. Yes, we’re men, Patsy, and we’re not blind. I’m sure you’ve noticed that DCI Meredith is a good-looking man, but he wears a wedding ring. Sophie spotted both and commented on it. Not inappropriately, but as an observation, just as I’ve noticed the same about you. But none of us would act on any attraction because we don’t mix business with pleasure. Whatever the temptation. It’s called being grown up. One shouldn’t mix business with pleasure.” Granville looked at Seaton. “Have I amused you, Tom?”

“Not at all. But that’s a rule that doesn’t always apply. So, did Corina talk about her love life outside of the office, even in passing?” Seaton asked.

“Meaning?” The word was snapped out by Granville, and Seaton was confused.

“Meaning, did she say I’m seeing this red-hot fireman, or I’ve got a date with a sweet chap from the library? Sorry, sir, I don’t know why that’s confusing.”

“I was referring to the ‘doesn’t always apply’ part. Have I missed something? Did one of my team have something going on with Corina or Sophie? If so, I’d like to know about it.”

“Not that we know. I was referring to our team, not yours.” Seaton glanced at Patsy and, ignoring the flare of interest in Granville’s eyes, moved the questions to a different subject. “Shall we move on? It’s come to our attention that Corina was probably using two phones. Unusual, but not unheard of. Were you aware of that?”

“No, and if true, I’d be surprised. Why do you think that?”

Patsy answered the question. “It’s apparent from witness statements that calls occurred, and the records for the phone Corina had registered in her name show they weren’t made or received on that number.”

“Well, I didn’t know about it, if it existed. Perhaps the witnesses were mistaken. That would imply that Corina was doing something she shouldn’t have been, and I don’t believe that to be true.” Granville held up his hands. “But I agree, I wouldn’t be the first to have poor judgement in that area. Interesting, and, if true, disappointing. May I ask what calls?”

“It might be something and nothing, or as you say, an error by a witness. But it’s something we need to get to the bottom of. So, to summarise, attractive though she was, Corina wasn’t romantically involved with anyone that you are aware of, particularly on your team. She was a good and honest officer and wasn’t participating in any cases which may have placed her in danger. Is that right?” Seaton closed his notebook.

“That’s about the sum of it, yes. For what it’s worth, this may have been a random mugging gone wrong, but I don’t think anyone killed Corina intentionally. At worst, it was the wrong place, the wrong time.”

“Hopefully we’ll find out. I think that’s it for now, sir. Depending on how this goes, we may need to speak to you again to tie up any loose ends. But thanks for coming in.” Seaton got to his feet and held out his hand.

“Yes, of course. If I can be of any help at all, please, just shout, and of course, keep me posted.” Granville shook Seaton’s hand as Patsy opened the door. “Thank you, Patsy.”

“You’re welcome. I understand DCI Meredith mentioned the need to see your team’s notebooks for the time preceding Corina’s death, and that will, of course, include yours. As this was an impromptu visit, I’m guessing you didn’t bring yours. Let us know if you would like them to be collected or—“

“Mine?” Granville stopped walking and stood face to face with Patsy.

“Yes, sir. Everyone’s. Just a box DCI Meredith wants ticked. That won’t be an issue, will it?”

A smile appeared as Granville leaned in a little too close. “None at all, although I thought we’d agreed that the cases we were dealing with were not likely to be related, and I doubt my notes will be of any use or interest. I rarely do the legwork. You’ll have the case numbers, so you can watch the interviews I took part in.”

“That’s great. So, will you drop them off, or shall we arrange collection?”

“I’ll dig them out and let you know.”

“Thank you. Shall I see you out?” Patsy asked, angling her hand towards the corridor.

“I think I’ll manage. Goodbye, Patsy. Seaton.” Granville tilted his head and regarded Patsy a moment longer, before striding off along the corridor.

“I didn’t like him much,” Patsy commented to Seaton, as they returned to the office.

“No shit. And there was me thinking you were getting on famously. What was it, the false smile or the little sighs each time we asked a question he thought was a waste of his time?”

Patsy laughed. “Ha! So it wasn’t just me? Be interesting to see what French has to say this afternoon.”

Chapter Seven

Richard French looked up as Linda bumped open the door with her hip and raised her eyebrows as their eyes met. DS French’s photographs hadn’t done him justice. He was a good-looking man. Too good-looking, if that were possible. She cleared her throat.

“Refreshments. Ignore the colour of the icing, I got carried away, but it tastes lovely, even if I do say so myself.” French eyed the sludge-coloured topping on the cakes. “I’ll take your word for it.”

“The skipper sends his apologies. He’ll be down as soon as he gets off his call.” Lowering her voice, she leaned closer. “He hates speaking to the super.”

Who’s the skipper?”

“DCI Meredith. Only don’t call him Skipper. Only I get away with that. You’d better stick to Guv, although he’s not, so that won’t do.”

French raised a hand before she could say anymore. “I get it. I’ll be polite. Do you work with the CCRT?”

“I do. Handpicked by the skipper. I love it. What’s it like working for DCI Granville? He came in yesterday and he looked a bit miserable. Don’t get me wrong, the skipper has his moments, but they’re usually justified and he—“

“Thank you, Loopy. I can take it from here.” Meredith placed his hands on her shoulders and walked her out of the interview room. Closing the door, he held out his hand. “Sorry to keep you. Don’t get up.”

French dropped back onto his chair as Meredith sat opposite him. Meredith hit the record button.

“Cutting to the chase, we’ll record this because I prefer it. And before we get to the questions I want you to answer, tell me what you found in your notebooks that you think I should see.” He frowned as French placed an A5 ring-bound notebook on the table. “That doesn’t fit in your top pocket.”

“No. Well, there are things you can’t write in your notebook. You never know when it’s going to be needed in evidence, so this is…I suppose, a diary of sorts. I write stuff down that’s relevant to me, but perhaps not the case.”

“Facts or opinions?” Meredith asked, holding back the smile of delight at this unexpected windfall.

“A bit of both. I try to keep my opinions relevant. Look, let me show you the one that caught my attention. It might not be important, but if you now think someone killed Corina, perhaps it is.” French turned to a page he had marked and turned the notebook to face Meredith. “My writing isn’t too bad, so you should be able to read it.”

13th September 2015

Phillip Tanner a RB and the dregs. Told Corina the facts of life. She’s on one. Heard her on the phone. Married? She doesn’t seem type. Won’t talk about it.

Meredith nodded and flipped the book over. The next page was the day after. He placed it back on the table and scanned the page before looking at French as he tapped the book. “So what’s this for?”

“Mainly a memory jogger, should I ever need to give evidence. Stuff I don’t write in my notebook but might need to remember. It reminds me of what I thought at the time.”

“And you don’t put that in your statement on file?” Meredith crossed his legs at the ankle as he leaned back in his chair.

French smiled. “Ask your next question, and you’ll understand.”

Meredith pursed his lips and resisted asking him how he knew what that would be. So he asked the next question he had lined up. “What does RB stand for, and who is Phillip Tanner?”

“Phillip Tanner was the son of Mrs Elise Tanner. Her builder had ripped her off. Replaced a fence, and overcharged, but also quoted for a leaking garage roof. She accepted the quote, and they wanted some money up front with the old ‘We need to buy the materials’. She paid them. They disappeared. Mr Tanner had dementia, so was no use to her, and son Phillip was a racist bastard. RB, That’s what Corina got wound up about. When he came in for an interview, we went down to speak to him, and he asked me if I could speak English. I gave Corina the look that shut her up and then did the interview with her huffing next to me. Corina wanted me to report it. She always wanted me to report every racist slight. It’s not worth the hassle when there’s a job to do. He didn’t give a shit about his parents, was only interested in getting back to whatever he’d been doing after winding me up. Told us he’d sort it out. We guessed how, but there’s only so many ways you can ask a question of someone not willing to give an answer when there’s no obligation.”

“How did you know that would be my next question? Because we both know the ‘married’ comment is the important bit, and why you’re here.”

“Exactly, because that’s the most important part, and you wanted the trivia out of the way so you could concentrate on it. Am I right?” French asked.

“Bang on. And not even smug about it. So, carry on.” Meredith was warming to the man and hoped that French’s instinct was as good as his self-control, because then he might be useful to the investigation.

“I wouldn’t have noted it normally. It wasn’t relevant to the interview, but I was annoyed with Corina always lecturing me. So we showed him out, and after starting on me, Corina received a call and walked out into the carpark to take it. I was doing the lunch run and went to ask what she wanted. I caught the tail end of her conversation. Whoever it was, they clearly suggested something she didn’t like, because she called him a few choice names, and asked if his wife would be coming. He must have tried to talk her round, but she was having none of it. She told him that, hung up, and looked at me daggers, sarcastically asking if she could help me. I took her lunch order, then tried to talk to her about the call, and she reminded me I was her superior, not her counsellor, and people in glass houses etcetera. I didn’t want to go back to the racist thing again, so I left it. But now it could be relevant, couldn’t it?”

Meredith nodded. “Possibly. Did you witness any other similar calls?”

“Nope. Although I noticed her reject quite a few over the next few days. I guessed the huffing and puffing that went with the rejection connected them to the mystery man.”

“Tell me what you knew about her love life. You’re a good-looking bloke, and she was a pretty girl, did you ever get involved?”

French held up his left hand and wiggled his ring finger. “Married. And I don’t think she would have been interested. Anyway, she’s not my type. Corina was a warrior and always had a cause. I wouldn’t want that at home too. I prefer the homemaker type.” He glanced at Linda’s cakes and smiled. “You know, someone who wants roses around the door, two point four kids, and can cook.”

Meredith picked up a cake and bit into it. “Loopy’s not got the same eye for things as normal people, but there’s nothing wrong with her taste buds. Go on. Help yourself.”

French bit into the cake and nodded his agreement.

Meredith waited until he’d finished, then asked, “So who was Corina seeing? Because we thought there was someone, what you witnessed confirms that, and it was someone she didn’t want to talk to her friends about.”

“Ah. Which is why you thought it might be me. She was a good girl, like you say, attractive and very likeable, but I don’t think she’d mix business with pleasure either, even if someone was interested in her. The boss gave her a hard enough time as it was. I don’t know who, if anyone, she was seeing, because she rarely mentioned personal stuff. When she did, it was trivial. Got to go shopping, internet crashed, that sort of stuff. Never personal,” French explained.

“Okay, so leaving DCI Granville giving her a hard time to one side, none of the others, Cook, Knight or Brown, were interested in her.”

French grinned. “Steve Knight was pushing sixty and married. He’s retired now. I know the married thing doesn’t mean much to some, but it did to him, and I think it would to Corina, as per the phone conversation. He was also overweight and bald, so other than being a good bloke, not boyfriend material. Joe Brown is gay, and as for Brendon Cook, well, he’s a little different. He was single back then, so I’m guessing, yes, he was interested, but then he’s interested in anyone who doesn’t have a penis, even though he’s now married. Although, to the best of my knowledge, he doesn’t act on it. All mouth, I reckon. At the time, he looked and sometimes acted about sixteen. He’s matured…somewhat.”

“After speaking to Cook, DCI Fairweather made a note that Cook was smitten with Corina. Was that a fair assessment?”

“Probably. Cook was still a little wet behind the ears, keen to be liked. I’m guessing he overdid whatever he said to DCI Fairweather, but there was some truth in it, because despite considering him to be a bit of a wanker, Corina was kind to him. He was really upset when they found her. Corina was nice to you, whatever she thought of you privately. She was that sort of girl.” French shrugged. “I don’t know what he said, but I’m telling you, he wasn’t in her league. Nowhere near.”

“Why did Granville have it in for her? Was she a good copper?” Meredith asked.

“Yep. Had she not died, she would have gone places if she’d kept her personal feelings in check. I enjoyed working with her. She always did what was asked of her. Paperwork done on time. Heard what wasn’t said and had good instincts when interviewing. It’s a bloody shame. Not just because someone lost a family member, or a good friend, Corina was good for everyone.” French’s shoulders twitched. “If I can help you catch whoever did this, assuming that’s what happened, just give me a shout and I’ll be there.”

“Good to know. You didn’t answer the question about Granville?” Meredith raised an eyebrow. “I might be recording this, but it will go no further than my team if you’re trying not to say something you don’t think would go down well.”

“DCI Granville is a good bloke to work for. He doesn’t talk in riddles, he says what he means, and he backs you up should it become necessary. But he can be an awkward bas…bloke, and he has got a short fuse. Unfortunately, Corina’s way of asking him questions, some of which she’d suggest the answer to, wound him up. He didn’t pull punches just because she was a junior. When he’s on one, he’s over the top.”

Meredith linked his fingers behind his head. “Example?”

“Oh bloody hell, um…she’d say something like, ‘Do you think that’s acceptable? Of course you do, or you’d do something about it.’ That sort of thing, with attitude in her tone. I tried telling her it was okay to challenge me like that, although it pissed me off sometimes, but not the boss.”

“How did she respond to your advice?” Meredith asked.

“Ignored it, mainly. But Corina was always right. I’m not being sarky, she generally was. She considered the facts and stated her case. Usually bluntly. Not always a welcome trait, especially in a briefing.” French sighed. “A warrior. With little thought for any return fire.”

“Did she take it, or did she sulk?”

“She wasn’t stupid. If it was the boss and she’d had her say, she’d then wait until she was in neutral company if she needed to sound off. But usually, once she’d said her piece, that was it, until the next time something wasn’t right.”

“And in your opinion, how often was she wrong? Not in speaking out, although yes, mostly there’s a time and a place, but in what she said. What percentage of the time was she right?”

“Most of the time. Can’t remember a time I didn’t agree with her. Other than causing a fuss over a bit of racism,” French answered, with a sigh.

“Is there such a thing as a bit of racism?”

“Yes, of course. Same as everything else.” French looked amused.

“Go on, educate me. What’s a bit of racism?” Meredith asked.

“My dad’s white, my mum’s black. They were barely out of school when they had me, so I knew my great granddad on my dad’s side. When I was about nine, he pulled me to one side and told me that just because I was a darky, it didn’t mean I was any less than anyone else. In fact, I had to be better to show them how wrong they were. I was as English as he was and if I got any trouble about being a darky to come and see him. I just agreed with him, because I wanted to get back outside to play football. As I grew older, I realised there was a generational and a class thing about it. Not right, certainly not these days, but most of the time no insult is intended. Like my gramper. He wasn’t insulting me. He loved me, it was just the language he was raised with. There were whites, darkies, Pakis and Orientals. All politically incorrect, especially these days. We were a working-class family, and it’s what we knew. I called it the Paki shop, even though I knew the owner was an Indian, or talked about the chinky shop if I wanted a chow mein. Wrong, but it’s how it was. I know better now, and I try my best to re-educate my family.”

“What about when you’re on the street?” Meredith asked.

“When I go into a pub and someone calls me a black bastard or similar, it’s water off a duck’s back. Yes, it’s racist in content, but most of the time they’re shouting out to impress their mates with how brave they are, not to hurt my feelings, and I am black, although not a bastard. Only half right.” French smiled. “Even if they were trying to insult me, they failed miserably. Us darkies have got thick skin.” French looked at Meredith and shrugged. “Have you ever looked at what’s necessary to deal with a racist complaint? Reams and reams of it. I’d get no work done. And most of the time, it’s one person’s word against another’s. Everyone gets tied up for hours, only for it to go nowhere most of the time. I’ve never raised a complaint and doubt I ever will. You can’t do this job well and be overly sensitive.” French sighed before adding, “If I’m honest, the only time it grates enough for me to have feelings about it is when someone who should know better is stirring up racial hatred for their own gain. So-called politicians top the list.”

“Agreed on the last part, but not sure I agree with you on the rest. But I’ll take your word for it.” Meredith looked down and tapped the notebook. “Anything else in here that I might be interested in?”

French considered this for a moment. “Possibly, but nothing I spotted. If Corina was murdered, I don’t think it’s to do with anything we were working on. She’d only been with us for a short time. We didn’t deal with any real nasties. But I have written a few comments that you might think are worth knowing.” French placed his hand on the notebook. “If I let you have this, it’s for your eyes only, and you might have to ignore some of my musings given I asked for a job.”

“Mine and the team’s. We don’t have secrets, nor do we talk out of school. It’s safe with us. Loopy, that’s who made the marvellous cakes,” Meredith turned and grinned at the camera, before turning back, “will find anything that might be of use. Let me have your card. We can call you if there are any things she can’t decipher, although I doubt that will be the case.”

French pulled a card from his wallet. “There you go. Like I said, anything I can do to help please shout. And as for a transfer, bear me in mind should anything come up. You won’t regret it.”

“I’m sure I wouldn’t, because I choose carefully. But I meant it when I said it was unlikely. I already have two sergeants who’ve been told any promotion to inspector would be unlikely if they joined the CCRT. Cold cases don’t earn you brownie points. I think you’re destined for promotion, French, and if we had an opening, you’d be missing out. Before you go, did you rate DCI Fairweather and his investigation?”

French shrugged. “I wasn’t involved enough. He asked all the right questions given the circumstances, and he didn’t close the case even when there was nothing to run with. It was a shame he died. Who knows, if he hadn’t perhaps this wouldn’t be a cold case.”

“Yes, that was a downer. Why was he in your nick at the time, do you know?” Meredith asked. “I haven’t had time to look at the file.”

“I doubt that, somehow. But yes, he was there to follow up with the boss and he wanted a word with Cook. I was on my way out when he arrived, and I left him waiting for them. I know there was a lot of talk about him jumping, and I know you never know what someone is going through, but I think him trying to grab his lighter is more likely.”

“Yes, one of my blokes said that. Unless you have any questions, I think we’re done. Thanks again for coming in.”

“Anytime. By the way, I think you’re racking up plenty of brownie points. Barely a month goes by that I don’t hear something about you or your team,” French replied, before popping the rest of his cake into his mouth and getting to his feet. He held his hand in front of his mouth. “How are the two girls who got injured?”

“Back at it.” Meredith shook his hand. “And I never said we weren’t good. I said none of us will get a promotion any time soon. Tell me, are you a keener?” Meredith hoped his amusement didn’t show. “By that I mean, do you always—“

“I know what a keener is, sir. Did I tell you about my great granddad? He told me I had to be better than—“

It was Meredith’s turn to interrupt. “Touché. You make sure you know what’s what, so you’re better placed than others. I might need to pick your brains at some point. Come on, I’ll walk you out.” Meredith pulled the door open. “Where does DCI Granville think you are?”

“He knows I’m here. I considered making out I was elsewhere but decided against it. Lying never sits well. Although I wiggled the truth, I told him you invited me, not that I volunteered.”

“Probably wise. I’m going to be causing a lot of disruption. I bet he’s hopping mad at this impeding the day job.”

“Yes, but why? If anything untoward did happen to Corina, why wouldn’t you want that known, and possibly solved?” French opened his mouth to say something else but closed it again.

“Go on, say it. I don’t tell tales,” Meredith encouraged.

“He asked me to brief him when I got back. Wants to make sure you’re not wasting our time.”

“And you’ll choose which bits to share. I’m guessing he won’t be told about your additional notes.” Meredith held up the notebook.

“No. Because he might want to read it,” French replied.

“As I thought. Give him my regards.”

Chapter Eight

Linda held out her hand as Meredith walked back into the office. “All six months, or start at the day she went missing and work backwards?”

“Have you been spying on me again, Loopy?” Meredith handed her the notebook. “Let’s say six months, up until about two weeks after Fairweather’s death. Type up all of it, list it in date order, highlight any entries I might be interested in, or you think we need more information about. Type any codes in full, with abbreviations in brackets.”

Linda took the notebook and placed it on her desk. Her hand came back out. “And the card.”

Meredith patted his pocket. “I’ll do any calling. If you weren’t a happily married woman, I’d question your motives.”

“Skipper! Don’t even joke about it. Yes, he is rather scrummy looking, but even so.”

“Why do you want the card?” Meredith asked. “I know it wasn’t because he was scrummy,“ Meredith’s nose wrinkled as he said it, “but I want to know if you’re going to be honest with me.”

“Oh, that’s easy. I thought if I got friendly with him, I might pick up some gossip.” Knowing she wouldn’t get the card, Linda went back to her desk.

“As I thought. Interfering and probably intending to lead a witness. Have you started that yet? Right, anyone but Linda, did anything happen in my absence? Where’s Seaton and George?”

“George has gone gossip collecting. Seaton had the afternoon off. It is in the diary,” Patsy replied. “What’s new? We’ve made appointments to see Tamsin Burton and Harry Jones, but thought we’d wait for your return before booking any more of Corina’s team in. DCI Granville has sent across the case numbers and Daisy is getting them in order should you want to look at them. Louie has spoken to the super and we’re awaiting news on the investigation into Fairweather’s death. I’m expecting a call back from Alex Game, who was the DS investigating Corina’s death.”

Meredith nodded and walked to his desk. “Glad you’re all occupied. I want Brendon Cook in here. Soonest. Thank you, Hodge.”

Patsy called Cook’s office number. It rang for a while before someone snapped a greeting.

“DC Cook’s phone. DC Cook is not at his desk.”

“Am I speaking to DCI Granville?” Patsy asked.

“Yes. Who is this?”

Patsy could hear Granville was attempting to keep his tone polite, she raised her eyebrows at Meredith who was watching. “Patsy Hodge from CCRT. I was hoping to make an appointment to speak to DC Cook.”

“He’s out following up some leads. French isn’t back yet, so we’re a little shorthanded. It won’t be this week.”

“Oh, that is disappointing. I didn’t mean today, perhaps tomorrow or Friday?” Patsy replied.

“Ms Hodge, I said not this week. Call again on Friday and we’ll see how the land lies.”

“Thank you. I’ll pass that on to DCI Meredith.” Meredith clicked his fingers and Patsy nodded as Meredith gestured to the phone, indicating he wanted to speak to Granville. “Just a moment, sir, DCI Meredith would like to speak to you.”

Meredith picked up his receiver. “Bob, I’m sorry about this, but I warned you I was going to be a royal pain. I sensed Hodge was getting the cold shoulder. Look, we’ve spoken to you and French, so give me Cook for a couple of hours and we’ll leave Dawson and Brown and the two from Fairweather’s team until next week. Then we should be done with you.”

“What’s the bloody hurry? Corina has been dead for years. Another couple of weeks won’t hurt,” Granville replied.

“That’s where I have to disagree with you. The sooner we’ve worked this one, the sooner we can move on to something we can solve. Would you rather we came to you?”

“Jesus Christ! I’ll get him to call you. Yes, you are a royal pain in the arse, Meredith. I’ve had two new cases land this morning, so you won’t be seeing the others this week.”

“That would be splendid. I’ll expect his call.” Meredith hung up and looked at Patsy who had walked across to his desk. “I don’t think he likes me. What can I do for you, Hodge?”

“I was going to suggest checking the rota for Granville’s team and putting a schedule together, so we can send it across to him for agreement. Otherwise, we’ll be having this pantomime every time.” Patsy replied. “And I don’t think he likes me either.”

“Sounds like a plan. Get it sorted. Let’s not push our luck, do one a day. Oh, and when you’re getting the rotas, get their mobile numbers, we’ll go the direct route once we’ve sent the schedule across.”

As Patsy walked back to her desk, George returned. Meredith beckoned him over.

“Pull up a chair, George, and tell me why you’re looking pleased with yourself.”

George sat in front of Meredith and grinned. “Is it that obvious?”

“I just said. Spit it out.” Meredith leaned back in his chair.

“First, I went to Fairweather’s station because I know Charlie Frampton. I thought he’d have retired years ago, but he lost his wife, car accident, so he’s waiting until they kick him out. He—“

“Does he get to the point or give you loads of unnecessary information?” Meredith asked with a sigh.

“He’s a stickler. He gets his reports typed up before he’ll discuss them. Do you think I should take a leaf out of his book?” George asked, with no hint of amusement.

“A concise verbal communication will be enough. Hodge was threatening to allow a fish supper on the way home. My stomach is ready for it.”

“Charlie agreed with me and said there’s no way Jamie Fairweather jumped and said his belly would have got in the way for one thing. He didn’t have one when I knew him but apparently got quite portly in his middle age. Which makes the acrobatics of trying to retrieve his lighter unlikely too, in my humble opinion. But the main reason Charlie thought that the idea of suicide was ridiculous was because of Fairweather’s boy, who had got through to the semi-final of some martial arts competition. Charlie said he was full of it, because the final was being held in Vegas, and he was combining it with a family holiday. Had already booked the flights. You don’t do that if you’re not expecting to go. You wouldn’t do that to your family, would you?”

“Unlikely, I’ll grant you. Did Charlie have anything to say about the case?” Meredith asked.

“Not a lot. Everyone knew about it because she was a copper. But he didn’t have any info, other than Fairweather and Granville didn’t get on.” George gave a knowing nod.

“And he knows this how?” Meredith asked.

“Because around the end of the first week, Fairweather was asking about Granville. On the quiet. Charlie couldn’t remember the exact words but Fairweather was after any gossip or rumours. Then told Charlie he was just checking an opinion.”

“Did Charlie have an answer for him?”

George grinned. “He did. Rumour has it that in the past Granville couldn’t keep it zipped up, but because that was just a rumour, Charlie didn’t have any details and told Fairweather he’d have a quiet word at Granville’s station. Which he did. They’d also heard the rumours, but no one thought he was having an inappropriate relationship there.”

“Perhaps that’s why he moved about so much. Remind me to chase the super on that. Was that it? Not earth shattering, is it? Not like you haven’t come across it before,” Meredith said.

“No. And you should know. But I then went and had a word with a couple of chaps at Granville’s nick. They’ve got a nice canteen there. Everyone loved Corina. She was bright and bubbly but had had a couple of barneys with her team. One with Granville. One with Sophie Dawson.”

Meredith smiled. “I hope you have details.”

George screwed up his nose. “Not really. The row with Sophie was in the lift. The sergeant I spoke to was waiting for it, and could hear the shouting but not the words, but they shut up when he got in. They were alright the next day, so he assumed it was something and nothing. The row with Granville was more public, but they heard about that second-hand from Brendon Cook. She accused Granville of dishing out the shit jobs to French and, as a consequence, to her. He threatened a disciplinary if she didn’t get on with it. She got on with it. You’ve spoken to French. What did he have to say?”

“Nothing about that, but I should be able to find out.” Meredith glanced at Linda, whose fingers were flying across the keyboard. “If not, we’ll have to ask him. Anything else?”

“Is that not enough? I thought I did quite well! No, Meredith, nothing else at the moment. What do you want me to do now?”

“Get your notes written up and get off home. Tomorrow, I want you to speak to the team on Fairweather’s death and get a copy of the postmortem report.”

“Will do, but I thought we were going to leave that until we tied up Corina’s death and see what else turns up then.”

“We are. But having the gossip first will help if we reach that stage, and as we’ve nothing much happening until we’ve spoken to more people, it will keep you out of trouble.”

“Fine by me. I’ll get typing then,” George replied.

“Glad about that, if you would.”

Meredith watched George walk away as he waited for his emails to open. Still no response from Chief Superintendent Ashworth on Granville. Closing his emails, he wondered why, and asked himself again, why it was so important for this job to go to the CCRT. If he were a betting man, he’d say Chief Constable Elizabeth Carrington was behind it, and she wanted him nosing into Fairweather’s death. Carrington would know he couldn’t resist. Meredith said as much to Patsy as they drove to the fish and chip shop.

“What I don’t understand is why she hadn’t looked at it before,” Meredith mused. “When a copper is thought to have chucked himself off one of your stations while investigating the death of another officer, you’d think an interest would be taken.”

“I agree, except she would’ve had no reason to suspect either investigation was anything other than what had been written down. Two unfortunate deaths. And of course, if there was any doubt, better for the DCI’s family that it was an accident, don’t you think?” Patsy asked.

“Yes, if he wasn’t pushed. If he was pushed, I’d want to know about it. I do want to know about it,” Meredith replied.

“I’m sure everyone in the station at the time was questioned. I’m sure all the CCTV has been looked at. With no indication someone did this, what choice did she have but to accept it? Things have changed now. Now she’s got someone sending her letters, and they might link the two events. Now, she has a reason to ask questions.”

“Then why not say that? Why not make it clear that if these notes are anywhere near true, I want both cases investigated thoroughly. And why us? She knows I can do softly softly when called for, but that I don’t hear that call when others think I should. I think she and I need to have a conversation. We’re not being told something. I don’t like that.”

“I don’t suppose it’s occurred to you it’s simply because you’re the best man for the job, has it?” Patsy pulled into a parking space.

“I’ve been the best man for many jobs I didn’t get. I was the best man for the job with the last team, but they still kicked me out to set up the CCRT. Mmm, I can smell my supper from here.” Meredith closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. “I know what we agreed, but it’s going to have to be a large portion,” Meredith added, as they climbed out of the car.

“I have two answers for you. First, you may have a large portion if we go to the gym in the morning and not skip a day. Second, you were the best man for the CCRT. She now thinks the sun shines out of your backside, which is why you’ve been handed this dream case. You are fishing for compliments. Are we agreed?”

“I’m not. Like I said, I’m always the best man for the job. Flattery will get you anywhere you’d like to go, Hodge.”

“I meant agreed on the gym.” Patsy thumped his arm. “Don’t play dumb, it doesn’t suit.”

“If you insist,” Meredith grumbled.

Chapter Nine

The next morning at the gym, Meredith sent Patsy away with their personal trainer, Jared, before setting the running machine to a mediocre pace. Jogging gently, as he looked around, he was startled when Jared slapped him on the back.

“Come on, Meredith, you’ve been slacking ever since you got the wife back. She’s sent me over to gee you up.”

Meredith glanced at him. “Do you believe in coincidence, Jared?”

“Yep, otherwise I’d get paranoid or freaked out. Why?” He tapped the control panel to increase Meredith’s speed.

“Do you know the blonde woman on the cross trainer?” Meredith asked, picking up his pace.

“She’s fairly regular but I’ve not seen her for a while. She doesn’t have a personal trainer, she does her own thing. Seems like a nice girl. Why?”

“What’s her name?”

“Meredith, far be it from me to interfere with anyone’s love life. But really? Why? You’ve only just sorted yourself out.” Jared wagged a finger.

“Unlike you, my tattooed friend, I use my brain to do the thinking. What’s her name?”

“Sophie, I think. Why?”

“How old are you? Do you know how many times you’ve asked me why to a simple enough enquiry?” Meredith stopped the machine. “Where’s Hodge?”

“Who’s Hodge? Are you feeling alright? I think I liked you more when you wanted pain.”

“My wife. Patsy. Where is she?” Meredith asked again.

“Why doesn’t she use your name if you’re married? Wasn’t expecting that, very modern of you,” Jared responded.

“Nothing to do with me. She does if we’re not working. Where is she? Do you know?”

“On the weights. W…” Jared waved his finger. “Never said it. I’ll walk over with you.”

“I know where the weights are. But as you’re supposed to be working, I’ll allow it.”

Patsy walked over to greet them as they approached. “Blimey, Jared, I’m impressed. I would have got more resistance.”

Jared didn’t know what to say, because he didn’t know what Meredith was up to, or why he was interested in Sophie, so he just smiled.

“A word.” Meredith jerked his head to the side and held up his palm to Jared. “In private.”

Patsy listened, nodded, then telling Jared to make Meredith work harder, headed for the running machines.

Jared watched her progress, as he asked, “Is Sophie a suspect or a witness or something?”

“No, she’s a copper I want a word with. Where do you want me?”

“If you want a word, why have you sent Patsy? Oh, she’s just running. You are a very confusing man, do you know that?” Jared started increasing the weights on the machine Patsy had been using. “Give me thirty.” He pointed at the seat.

“I’ll give you ten. Twenty if you shut up.” Meredith seated himself and grunted as he pulled against the weights Jared had loaded.

“I’ll grab you some water. No bottle again, I see.” Jared tutted and walked across to the water cooler. When he came back, Meredith was still working the weights and must have done well over the target he’d set. “Don’t overdo it, Meredith, we’ve discussed this. Come and work on your legs.”

“I was thinking. I don’t feel it when I’m thinking.” Meredith released the weights, and hugging himself, rubbed his arms before he took the water. He emptied the cup and handed it back to Jared. “What’s next?”

Half an hour later, Jared agreed Meredith had done enough. “Will I see you tomorrow, or are you still making excuses?” he asked as Meredith mopped the sweat from his head and shoulders.

“That’s up to Patsy,” Meredith replied.

Jared looked around. “I think she’s already called it a day.”

Meredith nodded. “She’s only just started. Might see you tomorrow.”

In the ladies’ changing room, Patsy towelled her hair as she walked into the locker area. Sophie Dawson was pulling on her socks and looked up. Patsy smiled at her and then did a double take.

“Sorry, but are you Sophie?” Patsy asked.

Sophie frowned as she tried to place Patsy. “I am. Have we met?”

“Not yet.” Patsy smiled. “Patsy Hodge, I work for the Cold Case Review Team, we’ve reopened Corina Jones’s case.”

Sophie gave a brief smile. “Ah, okay. Hello. How’s it going?”

“It’s not at the moment, we’ve only just started. But as you’re a key witness, we’ll need to speak soon. Might be next week though, because keen as we are to get on, DCI Granville is reluctant to let us get in the way of his ongoing cases, which is understandable. Have you been coming here long?”

“Few years. Not as often as I’d like, but you know…work.”

Patsy turned her back and lifted her clothes from the locker. “Yes, we’re lucky. For the best part, we don’t have silly early starts or late finishes too often. I’m new here. Used to just go running, but I’m enjoying the variation.” Patsy pulled on her trousers. “I’m sorry, I’m holding you up. Hopefully, we’ll speak sooner rather than later.”

“No, you’re alright, I’m in no rush. Day off. My washing machine packed up, and the repairman has given me a ten until twelve slot. You spoke to Rich yesterday. He said it was frustrating that he couldn’t help more. He was Corina’s partner, I was her flatmate, losing her hit us harder than the others. I don’t know what was said, but Rich now thinks Corina was murdered. Is that what you think?”

“I didn’t speak to him, DCI Meredith did. I saw him, though. Seemed a nice bloke, and if I’m being honest, too good-looking. Is he always that nice? Is it possible to look like that and not be arrogant?” Patsy asked.

“Ha! Yes, what you see is what you get. He can be a bit…anal, occasionally. Likes all the dots done before he starts on crosses, which can be irritating. He used to drive Corina mad sometimes.” Sophie’s face fell as she remembered her friend. “But he’s a good copper, as well as being a nice bloke. Too few of them around. He liked your DCI Meredith.”

“Meredith has his moments.” Patsy smiled. “What’s Granville like? Was a bit of a bear with a sore head when he came to see us.”

“Default position, then. Not happy unless he’s got something to moan about. But, seriously, he’s a decent enough bloke to work for once you get used to him. You didn’t answer about Corina being murdered. Is that what you think?”

“We don’t know at the moment. Not far enough in. But it’s a possibility. You don’t?” Patsy asked.

“I don’t know, but I certainly don’t want it to be. It’s bad enough losing her without it having been deliberate.” Sophie pulled on a sweatshirt. “But if she was, I hope you find out who and catch the bastard.”

“I can understand that. What…sorry, I was going to start questioning you then. So many questions. I haven’t got a feeling for what she was like yet, and you’re the person who can tell me. Look, take my card, and call me when you’ve got a couple of hours, if we don’t get to you officially via DCI Granville first.” Patsy went back to her locker and pulled a card from her bag.

Sophie finished lacing her trainer and walked across to Patsy to take it. Patsy hoped her surprise didn’t show, but it must have because Sophie laughed.

“Yes, I’m tall. No, not quite a six-footer. Look, I’ve got some stuff on after the repair guy, but I should be free by mid-afternoon. If that’s the case, I might give you a shout and perhaps you can get me done and out of the way.”

“Sorry, was it that obvious? You don’t look that tall sitting down. And that would be great if you have the time.”

“Short body, long legs.” Sophie slapped her thigh. “The boss used to call me and Corina his Amazonians.” Her face fell. “Not anymore.”

Patsy patted her arm. “It must be tough. I’m sorry you have to go through it all again, but it is necessary. I’ve got to go, but please call if you can fit us in. Doesn’t matter if it’s late in the day.”

“Will do.”

Patsy met Meredith in the cafe where he was buying coffee to go.

“How did it go?”

“Okay. Sophie seems a nice girl. She’s huge, tall, I mean, and attractive. She could have been a catwalk model. DCI Granville certainly had a good-looking team. By the way, Rich French thinks it’s murder now, and for some reason he likes you. Sophie is on a day off. Probably another reason Granville didn’t want anyone else seeing us today. If she has time later, she’ll call and arrange to meet up. Keep your fingers crossed.”

“Everyone likes me. Cook is due in at nine. Better get the briefing over and done with.”

“As is brother Harry Jones. You need to decide who’s doing who.”

The briefing was cut short as Harry Jones arrived an hour early, having been attending an accident on the A4. Meredith asked Trump and Kent to speak to him.

“Are we going to watch it, Skipper?” Linda asked.

“No. You’ve got that notebook to finish, and Cook is due in. Seaton, why do you look like you’re chewing a wasp?” Meredith walked back to his desk, removing his jacket, as Trump and Kent left the office.

“Can I have a word?” Seaton jerked his head towards the door.

Meredith nodded and pulled his jacket back on. “Carpark?” Ignoring the glance from Patsy, he pulled his dwindling supply of cigarettes from the drawer and followed Seaton out.

Daisy looked at Linda. “What’s that about?”

“I don’t know. He’s barely said a word this morning. George?” Linda looked at George expectantly.

“How would I know? He was out yesterday, and I’ve only been in half an hour.”

“Don’t look at me.” Patsy held up her hands as everyone looked at her. “I don’t think Meredith knows either though he must think it’s serious, most meetings in the carpark with cigarettes are. I think we should all get on with some work, because if it’s not good news, who knows what the day might hold.”

Meredith held up the cigarette packet and looked at Seaton. “Will I need one of these?”

“I do, and I don’t bloody smoke. I’ve got a bit of a situation, Guv, and…” Seaton cleared his throat. “Sue has MS. She’s doing okay, and they are trying to get her meds right. There’s a new drug they’re going to try her on, but I’m not coping very well. Not here, not at home. I feel so bloody guilty every time I walk out the door and leave her, because I also feel relief that I haven’t got to watch her struggle. Then when I’m here I feel guilty because part of my mind is at home with her, and so I’m not concentrating. I don’t know what to do.” Seaton cleared his throat again.

“Fuck.” Meredith blew smoke skyward. “How bad is she?”

“The doctors say average on the scale at the moment, but fuck me, Guv, she’s losing her sight, and is now having trouble co-ordinating her right hand. That’s where we were yesterday. Having another assessment. This morning, she tripped over her own feet in the kitchen and narrowly avoided scalding me with the kettle. She’s a mess. She doesn’t want to face it and doesn’t want me to watch it. Told me to get out from under her feet when I offered to stay home today.”

“How long have you known?” Meredith asked.

“Four months. Maybe a little more. It started with her getting forgetful and clumsy, nothing too bad, and we joked about it being a menopause thing, because she was also having major hot flushes. It sort of crept up on us. But four months ago, her vision blurred, and she felt dizzy most of the time. They did some scans, took a spinal tap, and then blew our world apart.”

“And you said nothing? Just let me witter on about my own problems and not sharing yours? I thought we were mates, Tom. I know I can be a miserable bastard, and the last six months have been trying for me, but you should have told me.”

“Trying is a bit of an understatement. But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. If I didn’t talk about it, I didn’t have to acknowledge it. Not healthy, I know, and anyway, everyone else had nasty shit going on. I wasn’t going to add to that. That and she doesn’t want anyone to know. She needs to accept it herself first. But I made her tell the kids yesterday. I insisted. Because she might go blind, and so now it’s very real. I don’t know what to do for the best. It will never get better, it’s only going to get worse, unless they find a miracle drug, and she’s only fifty-three…” Seaton walked away to compose himself.

Meredith took a long drag on his cigarette and watched Seaton pace, as he attempted to control his emotions. He couldn’t help him sort this out. No one could. He’d worked with Seaton almost as long as he’d been a detective. This was the first time he’d seen him in a mess, and there was nothing he could do to help. Stubbing out his cigarette, he lit another, waiting for Seaton to return. When he did, Meredith ignored the red eyes and the look of desperation and drew in a breath. “Tell me what you want to do. You can’t change it, and you need to learn how to cope with it. What do you want to do?”

“I want to be there for her, at least until she gets her head around it. Jane, that’s our youngest, says we can put alarms in and the like in case she has a fall or needs us, so right now I want to be with her, until I know she’s as safe as she can be. But she doesn’t want me there.” Seaton ran his hands through his hair. “I can’t put my foot down either, she’s too delicate to start a row with. So, here I am. No use to you, no use to her. What do you want me to do? I need guidance here, Guv.”

“Are you up to interviewing Cook? He’s just arrived,” Meredith asked, flicking his cigarette into a drain.

“I just said I was no use to you. But yes, I think I can manage that.”

“Good. Grab Hodge and you lead the interview. Make him your best mate but keep him on his toes. He’s a gossip. He was also smitten with Corina.”

“What are you doing? I thought you wanted to speak to him?” Seaton asked.

“As you know, we bumped into Sophie Dawson, and I want a word with her, sooner rather than later. Are you going or not?” Meredith asked, then nodded as Seaton agreed.

As the door to the station closed behind Seaton, Meredith pulled out his phone. “Hodge, you’re interviewing Cook with Seaton. Let him lead, I’ve briefed him. I have somewhere I need to go, probably be out for a couple of hours. Don’t ask questions of me or him. I’ll fill you in later. I don’t think I’ve told you today but I love you, Hodge.” Meredith hung up before she could reply and headed for his car.

Sue Seaton opened the door, and her hand flew to her mouth. “Meredith, what’s happened? Is everything okay? Is it Tom?”

“Everything is far from okay. I’ve just been speaking to Tom, but he’s not in any trouble, and doesn’t know I’m here. Have you stopped dishing out hugs?” Meredith stepped over the threshold and held out his arms. Sue stepped into them, and he held her close. He remained holding her while her tears arrived and stayed there until they’d subsided. Eventually, she pushed herself away.

“I’ve made your shirt wet.” She rubbed at the wet patch on Meredith’s chest.

“It’ll dry. I’ll put the kettle on. We need to talk.” Meredith put his arm around her and led her to the kitchen. He sat her at the table and filled the kettle.

“How’s Patsy? Is she better? I was going to come round, but I’ve had this to deal with, and I didn’t want to lumber her with my issues.”

“I’m not here to speak about Patsy. But she’s better, thank you. And do you know what made her better? Don’t answer, I’m going to tell you. Me. I did. Because she let me help. She let me be there. Eventually. She resisted that for months and look where it got us. Don’t make the same mistake, Sue. It’s not right for you, and it’s certainly not right for Tom.”

“I can’t have him sitting here watching me waste away. It’s not fair.” Sue blinked back fresh tears.

“It won’t be easy, I know that, but it’ll be better than you struggling on your own, and him doing half a job at work. Let him help you. Work out what you need done, let him organise it, and then you can send him away if that’s what you want. But he needs to be helping you. He can’t be that bad to have around, can he? Do you take sugar?”

“No. No to sugar, and no, of course he’s not that bad, it’s much better when he’s here. It takes my heart an hour to calm down when he leaves. You know, the panic.” Sue Seaton patted her chest. “I just sit on the sofa until it passes. But it’s not fair, is it? He doesn’t want to be here day in and day out. I don’t bloody want to. But I have no choice, he does. I can’t have him throwing his life away. Poor Tom. He doesn’t deserve this. Now you’ve made me cry again. I had that under control.”

“You cry away. There’s a lot of it about. It won’t stop you talking, just try to avoid the snot bubbles. They’re not attractive.” Meredith gave a shudder and was relieved to see a smile appear. “And you’re wrong. Tom wants to be here. He needs to be.” Meredith placed the tea on the table and took hold of Sue’s hand. “He’s just told me that. Look, can we do a deal?”

“What sort of deal?” Sue asked.

“I’ll arrange for Tom to have some compassionate leave, and you let him get you set up here. You know alarms, everything within reach, some sort of rota where people can check in on you without it pissing you off. And when that’s done, you two can make a decision. The big one will be yours. That being, can you carry on putting up with him? Do you want him back to work ASAP etcetera? Tom will go along with what you want. It’s why he’s at work today and not starting on all the stuff that needs sorting here, which is what he wants to be doing. If I’m being blunt, which you know is my way, he needs to do this for himself, too. Tom needs to know he can make things easier for you because he can’t change them. Can we do that? I can’t give you too much time to consider it because I’ve got stuff I should be doing. So, drink your tea, decide what’s for the best, and we’ll go from there.”

“The whole cup?” Sue grinned. “Go on then.”

“Is that a yes, we can get on with it, or yes, you’ll drink your tea?” Meredith asked, with a smile.

“You always were pushy, Meredith. No wonder Patsy gave in and came home. Anything to shut you up, I expect.” Sue lifted her cup and sipped her tea. Meredith noticed she’d moved towards it with her right hand and changed to her left. It shook a little as she lifted it.

“Whatever it takes, Sue. As long as I get the right outcome, I can take the insults and the hurt feelings.” He winked at her.

Sue placed her cup on the table. “Do it. But Tom has to want it. Don’t make him do it because you think he should. He might need the respite away from all this.” Sue flipped her good hand around the kitchen.

“Respite. Never thought about that. Okay, we’ll add to the plan. Tom will be welcome to come in whenever your nagging gets too much for him. Be that for an hour or a day, or a couple of days, whatever is necessary for you both. There’s always something to do.”

“Thank you. You know, I’m worried it’s going to depress him. You know, facing it head on. Will you help keep an eye on him? Help me make sure he doesn’t go downhill too? I’ve asked the kids, and they think I’m exaggerating the effect it will have on him.”

“I will. I might even whisk him out for a pint now and then. Look, I really need to get back. We’ve got a lot of interviews today. You’ve got my number, you’ve got Patsy’s. You call if you need us. Anytime.”

“Where does he think you are?” Sue asked.

“He thinks I’m interviewing a witness. So, to recap, I’m safe to go back in and tell him not to come back until he’s ready, or wants to, or you’ve kicked him out?”

Sue smiled and nodded. “Go on then. As long as I know he has an escape route.”

Meredith thought about what Seaton had said about feeling guilty. He pursed his lips. “I’ll tell you what, he can take a couple of weeks off to get you set up, and then, if I can wangle it, I’ll give him the choice to do half days. How does that sound?”

“You’re a good man, Meredith. That sounds perfect.”

Meredith got to his feet and kissed the top of her head. “I’ve got to go now, but I’ll get something sorted today. Don’t forget. Call me if you need me. I’ll pop in at the weekend with Patsy, if that’s okay with you?”

Sue agreed, and Meredith walked to his car, hoping he could deliver on his promise. He could get Seaton compassionate leave, but whether they’d go for part-time was a different matter. He might have to blur that one around the edges.

Chapter Ten

Louie held the door open, and Harry Jones followed Will Kent into the interview room.

Still in uniform, Harry was a tall, stocky man who towered over Kent. His mop of blond hair was a mess and where it wasn’t plastered to his head, poked out at odd angles. His hands were grubby and he had a streak of dirt across his cheek. Red eyes and drooping shoulders revealed his exhaustion.

“Thank you for coming in, Harry. Sounds like you’ve had a night of it. And just to say we’ll be recording this.” Trump nodded at Kent, who started the recording and sat opposite Harry.

“You’re not wrong. Two bad ones last night, both will end with fatalities. It wasn’t pretty. At the moment, I’m still running on adrenaline, so you don’t need to do the small talk. Cut to the chase while I can still think straight.” He smiled. “A coffee wouldn’t be refused.”

“Already on the way. As you know, we’ve reopened Corina’s case and have read the notes on your interview with DS Game, and they were pretty basic, just confirming your interaction with Sophie Dawson on the night Corina disappeared. We’d like a little more in-depth information, if that’s possible,” Trump told him.

“Like what? Fire away, anything you need.” Harry leaned back against the chair and smiled as the door opened and Linda placed a tray on the table. He thanked her, and tearing open three sugar sachets, stirred them into his coffee.

“I understand that Corina followed you to Bristol after your mother died. Was she romantically involved with anyone back home, or had she met anyone since moving to Bristol?” Trump asked.

“Not that I know of. Best person to ask is Sophie. Corina landed on her feet with Soph. For her first two weeks here, Corina was in my boxroom. It’s a cupboard really, just a mattress on the floor, and all her gear was in boxes in the living room. It was a nightmare, to be honest. Then Sophie’s flatmate moved out and she offered the room to Corina. After that, we had the odd dinner and drink, but what with our shift patterns, that was probably only once, or maybe twice a month, at the most. And then we mainly chatted about work,” Harry replied.

“When Sophie was interviewed, she said you’d suggested Corina was with a boyfriend. You had no basis for that suggestion?”

“None. Corina didn’t discuss her love life with me, and vice versa. Other than Sophie, of course. We had a thing for a while before Corina moved here. When Corina first arrived, she passed comment that she’d been assigned to the pretty team. Said even the blokes were pretty. I’ve met some of them and can’t agree, although I suppose some women like that sort of thing. While she was staying with me, Corina went out a few times but never mentioned who with. I’m not her dad, so I didn’t ask. Do you think she was involved with someone? I know Sophie did.”

“We’re not sure, but we think it’s likely, based on what Sophie and another friend have said. How long before she disappeared did you last see her?” Trump asked.

“Two weeks to the day. We went for a curry. Not a late night because we were both working the next day. Corina was normal. Not dancing around the tables but not weeping into her napkin, either. It was just normal. But I did speak to her on the Monday or Tuesday before she disappeared, and she seemed wound up then. I asked her what was wrong, and she said I wouldn’t believe her if she told me. I told her to try me. She said it was just work and asked me to leave it, so I did. She never mentioned a boyfriend or any potential boyfriend in all the time she was in Bristol. There must have been someone because she’d never gone six months without having some kind of relationship before, but it couldn’t have been serious or she would have said. Does that make sense?” Harry rubbed his brow.

“It does. How did she get on sharing with Sophie?”

Harry’s shoulders lifted. “Fine. Only complaint I ever heard was about Sophie never emptying the dishwasher. Corina was delighted to be sharing with someone not vertically challenged. We make ’em big in our family. I met her for a drink by the river, one day in the summer, and she was wearing a dress she’d borrowed from Sophie. She’d not been able to do that with any other mates. Has there been a suggestion they didn’t get on?”

“Not really, just an argument in a lift. Could have been about the dishwasher. I’m just collecting as much information about Corina as I can. Was she enjoying her job in Bristol? Did she get on with DCI Granville and the team?” Trump kept the questions coming.

“It seemed like it. A couple of months before she died, Bob Granville invited everyone round for a barbeque. She didn’t have a boyfriend then, and she invited me along because we’d already arranged to have dinner that night. I didn’t want to go on a piss-up, because I was working the next day, but I didn’t want to be dying of boredom either. I’m hard to please.” Harry smiled. “ So, before I would agree to go, I asked her what they were like. From a not always reliable memory,” he warned, waving a finger, “her description of the team was: Sophie, good as gold, I’d like her, but she was out of my league and seeing someone. She didn’t know that was how I knew Sophie. Don’t know why, so I told her, and it was an amusing conversation when I pointed that out.” Harry raised his eyebrows. “Cookie, I can’t remember his real name. A pain in the arse do-gooder, a people pleaser, but harmless. Tall bloke, whose name I’ve also forgotten, drop-dead gorgeous, but nagged worse than our mum, and with strong morals, so also out of my league. Rich. That was it. I’m not gay. It was her sense of humour. Then there was Joe, kind, funny and loved karaoke, and old Steve, who reminded her of one of Mum’s brothers, and finally, Bob Granville, bossy, arrogant, short-tempered, but had a sense of humour and could be nice when he tried. There were a few others, I think, but I can’t really remember them.”

“Did you go?” Kent asked.

“I did. It was a good night, and I drank too much and regretted it the next day. But that’s not what you want to know. Everyone seemed to get on with everyone else. The plus ones were also nice people. Although Joe’s bloke was a surprise, because they were all expecting someone effeminate to counter Joe’s bad boy image, but he wasn’t. He was a burly estate agent who played rugby. Sophie got very drunk, and Bob Granville had to pull her to one side and have a word at one stage, but his wife took over, so any embarrassment was spared. Apparently, Sophie insisted on staying for karaoke and blubbed all the way home in the taxi. She’s a weepy drunk. I left before all that excitement. Corina said Granville had had a blazing row with his wife later, so the party fizzled out. So, I’ve seen her interacting with everyone she worked with. Nothing to suggest any romance going on.” Harry pursed his lips.

“It looks like you were going to add a but,” Kent suggested.

“I was. I was going to add, but as they all had their partners there, it wouldn’t have been obvious. But Corina was straight down the middle, she wouldn’t have got involved with anyone who was married, so I didn’t bother to add it.”

“And what did you think of them? Anyone you didn’t like?” Kent asked. “You know, on the basis you were keeping an eye on your sister.”

“First, that would have been irrelevant. Corina asked for advice occasionally but rarely acted on it, and absolutely would have ignored unsolicited advice, unless she agreed with it. But, no, not really. Wasn’t keen on Bob Granville, didn’t like the way he pulled Sophie out, it was over the top, or the way he treated his wife. She seemed like a kind lady, but he kept talking over her when she was in conversation. And also ordering her about, nicely, but if he wanted a drink topped up, or something done, it should have been a case of do it yourself, especially if she was talking to someone. I’d say he was used to having her dote on him and wanted it demonstrated. Backfired if they had a row, but I missed that. Seeing him manhandle Sophie is why I left. Didn’t want to upset the applecart by speaking out.”

“So, if you had to describe who Corina would be interested in romantically, what would you say?” Trump asked.

“Someone tall. She’s never had a shorter boyfriend, they’d have to be honest, hard-working, she didn’t like laziness, and reliable. But doesn’t everyone want that? Oh God, I don’t know, I’m her brother. You’re best off speaking to Tamsin. Do you know about Tamsin? She was Corina’s best mate.”

“We do, we’ll ask. I think we’re done here. Thank you for coming in after such a trying shift. Is there anything you want to ask us?”

“No. If she was killed deliberately, I’m trusting you to find that out, and hopefully get who did it. I don’t think Fairweather had given up, but it seemed to be shut down pretty quickly afterwards. Do you know why?”

“Not at the moment, but the reason is irrelevant to our investigation. With obvious restrictions, we’ll work this as though it happened yesterday.”

Harry got to his feet and held out his hand. “I can’t ask for more than that.”

As they left the room, Patsy was heading down the corridor. She grimaced as she stepped into the first available interview room. Kent slowed down.

“Everything okay, Patsy?” Kent asked.

“Yes, I hope so. We’ve got Cook waiting to see us, but Tom wanted to watch the end of your interview first. I wanted to make sure we’d have a room available.”

Kent started to speak, but Seaton appeared.

“Alright, Will?”

“Yes, I’ll get out of your way.” Kent swapped places with Seaton and nodded acknowledgement to Cook, who was standing in the corridor.

Seaton waited until the others were seated and hit the record button.

“Thanks for coming in at such short notice, Brendon. I know your guv isn’t happy about it. Seems like ours shouted the loudest. We’ll keep this as short as we can.”

“Take your time. He’s on one at the moment. Like a breath of fresh air coming here. Not that I’m not taking it seriously. Corina was lovely, a good mate. It’s just sometimes it’s nice to escape, you know?”

“I do. Wish I could do it more often, I reckon I’m going deaf in this ear from the guv bellowing out orders.” Seaton rubbed the side of his face.

“Patsy here likes to get to know the victims and what made them tick. Kick us off by telling us what you thought of Corina.” Seaton leaned back in his seat and nodded encouragingly.

“Corina was lovely. A good officer, and fair. She had a bit of a mouth on her sometimes, kept challenging the boss. I used to cringe. Not that she was particularly wrong, but sometimes that meant the rest of us would get it in the ear for the rest of the day too.”

“Yes, I heard he has a temper. Is it as bad as they say?”

“I don’t know what they said.” Cook’s brow wrinkled, and he sighed. “And I don’t gossip.”

Seaton rapped on the table. “Bugger! I was hoping you did. Please don’t tell me you’re going to sit there and give us what you think we expect, or what your guv would want you to say. That would be pointless. We’ve already heard all that. What we want to know is what other people thought of her. French, for instance. Good-looking girl, a good-looking bloke, both described as good coppers. How did they get on? I heard Corina thought he was anal.” Seaton returned Cook’s smile.

“I think they got on well, but she probably did think that, because he can be. Oh, do you mean were they at it? If that’s what you’re asking, no. No, no, never in a million. For one thing, the boss wouldn’t have accepted it. And when Sophie developed a crush on him, French, Rich had to remind her he was married. And Sophie is as hot as Corina was, and Corina had to partner him. That would stop any thought of rumpy pumpy in its tracks. So, no, and even if Rich had been interested, which is very doubtful, she wouldn’t have been. Corina was far too sensible.”

“How do you know that about Sophie?” Patsy asked.

“I was in the office and Rich was sitting opposite me when his phone pings. He reads the message and looks at her, then checks on the boss’s office. It was empty. Rich gets up and jerks his head that way and she followed him in. Didn’t take long, but he did most of the talking, actually held his hand up and tapped his ring at one stage. Sophie storms out, telling him she’s got the message, sees me looking, and I got told to eff off. I asked him later, and he just said she needed reminding that married men were to be avoided. The boss was back then. He overheard and said he totally agreed.” Cook smirked.

“You’re smirking. You don’t think he agreed?” Seaton asked.

“I know he bloody didn’t. But enough said.” Cook held up his hands.

“Why?” Seaton asked.

“Why what?”

“Why enough said?”

“Because he’d have my bollocks if he knew I was here discussing his private life. I’m not stupid.” Cook rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t like people poking their nose in.”

“Did it have anything to do with Corina?” Patsy asked. “Because if it did, I think you should tell us.”

“No. Corina wasn’t like Sophie.” Realising his mistake, Cook closed his eyes. “Shit. You’re recording this.”

“No one gets to see these recordings other than our team. You have my word,” Seaton promised. “I’ve sat where you are now. It’s a tough shout, but you’re a copper, an officer is dead, and I know you’ll do the right thing. Am I right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, so DCI Granville was what with Sophie? In a relationship? Knocking her off when he could? What?”

Cook’s hands were back up. “Don’t know. It’s guesswork, no, not guesswork, deduction.”

“Deduced from what?” Seaton asked.

“There was this party, and—“

“The party when Sophie got drunk, and DCI Granville’s wife had to rescue her from him, and got into a blazing row with him afterwards? That party?” Patsy asked.

“How the hell do you know about that? Wasn’t from Rich, he’d already gone.”

“We don’t have the details, only what someone thinks happened. They might have picked up some gossip. Do you have the facts?” Seaton asked.

“They didn’t get that gossip from me.”

“That’s okay then. Do you have the facts?” Seaton asked.

“Not exactly, but two and two, you know.”

“I do. Go on,” Seaton encouraged.

“Okay. For your ears only. Some song came on about weekend lovers. Sophie said, what a shit life, only picking up the leftovers of some other woman, and asked the boss if he agreed. He asked her if she’d had enough to drink. She said not yet, waved her glass at him, and told him he’d not answered the question. Soph was very drunk. The boss grabbed her arm and marched her away from everyone else, and leaned in very close so no one could hear, and gave her a bollocking. When Sophie had heard enough, she tried to pull her arm free, but he wouldn’t let her go. She shouted out, and Fran, that’s his missus, rushed over and took her away from him.”

“What happened then?” Seaton asked.

“Nothing. Not then. Rich and his wife had already gone, and Corina’s brother had just left. Corina tried to get Sophie to go home. Sophie wouldn’t because Joe was going to get the karaoke going, which he did. It was a laugh. We were in the conservatory, and I went into the house to use the toilet, and the boss and Fran were having a right old barney. I didn’t hang around, you don’t, do you? But he was shouting, and I heard, ‘For the last effing time, I am not having an affair.’ She retorted something about he’d said that before, and his lies didn’t work anymore. Then she stormed out, and I jumped into the loo and shut the door. She was singing with the girls when I came out. It wasn’t good. It all broke up a little while later.”

“What? Granville and his wife broke up?” Seaton asked.

“No, the party, although talking of which, they’d not long got back together, probably broke up because of him playing around, I guess that was what Fran meant when they were arguing. But not then, no, and they’re still together now.”

“Did Corina witness all this?” Patsy asked.

“Some. She didn’t know about the row, I told her about it, and she said she wasn’t surprised, the boss had been heavy-handed with Sophie, and if she was his wife she would’ve had a word as well, and then actually accused me of making up gossip when I said Fran had accused him of having an affair. Just as well I didn’t mention Sophie.”

“How was it between Sophie and the boss after?” Patsy asked.

“Strained for a couple of days, then back to normal. They just got on with their jobs – professional,” Cook replied.

“And what about Corina and DCI Granville? We heard he didn’t like her much. Is that true?” Seaton asked.

“Who told you that?” Cook’s brow wrinkled. “It’s difficult to say. He was really nice to her when she first arrived, then started pulling her up when she was too outspoken or opinionated. And then I suppose, actually, I think you might be right. The last couple of months he always seemed to have her in his sights. What was that about, do you know?”

“No. Perhaps she had words with him because he was having an affair with Sophie? Would she have done that, and how would he have reacted?” Seaton asked. “Because if someone did that to my guv, there would be fireworks.”

“Yes, she might have, especially if it was to protect Sophie. But that would have been a stupid move because he wouldn’t have liked it, and probably would have got her transferred.” Cook looked Seaton in the eye. “Oh.”

“Oh, what?” Seaton asked, wondering if Cook thought Granville could have been responsible for Corina ending up in the harbour. He was wrong.

“Corina told me she was going to put in for a transfer. The week she went missing. I asked her why, and she said mainly Attila, meaning the boss, but working and living with Sophie was like working and living with your partner. Too much time together.”

Seaton nodded. “Interesting.”

“Why?” Cook asked. “Have I said something I didn’t realise I’d said?”

“I doubt it.” Seaton smiled. “Who else knew about that?”

“Don’t know. If I’m honest, I kept my mouth shut because I didn’t know if the boss knew or not. He doesn’t like not being in the loop. Take this chat, for instance, when I get back I’ll have to give him chapter and verse, just like Rich had to. He doesn’t want you knowing anything that he doesn’t.”

“Then we’d better ask you some questions you can tell him about. Did you know if Corina had any personal worries?” Seaton began firing questions.

“Not that I know of.”

“Boyfriend issues?”

“Nope. Hardly, have you seen her photograph?”

“Did you ever ask her out?”

“In my wildest dreams. No, never. I might look it, but I’m not stupid.”

“Money worries?”

“No, she was saving for a deposit, same as the rest of us.”

“Did she get on with the other members of the team?”

“Yes.”

“So why did she want a transfer?”

“I just told you.”

“Does DCI Granville know about the transfer now?”

“It’s never been mentioned. You’d have to speak to HR to see if she put it in. Perhaps she didn’t do it before, you know…”

“Probably best not to mention it when you report back.”

Cook saluted. “Amen to that.”

“Anything else you think we should know about Corina?”

“Not really.”

“Anything we should ask other people who might know something useful?”

“No. But now I’m interested in what you think there might be. What kind of things?”

“Nothing, just a question for you to use.”

“I don’t believe you. But okay.”

Seaton got to his feet and held out his hand. “I think that’s us done, Brendon. You know where we are if you think of anything else. Good luck with DCI Granville. Thanks for coming in.”

“It’ll be fine. His bark is worse than his bite. It’s just a pain in the arse, that’s all.”

“We’ve all got one of those.”

Chapter Eleven

Patsy was itching to ask Seaton what was going on, but she held her tongue and was surprised when she heard Meredith’s voice as they went into the office.

“Oh, I thought he was going to be longer,” she commented.

“Why? Do you know something about Sophie I don’t?” Seaton asked.

Patsy didn’t have time to respond.

“Keep it down, you two, I’m playing catch-up,” Meredith shouted.

Patsy and Seaton returned to their desks.

“He’s just watching yours now. Stopped us halfway through and rewound it. He’s so impatient,” Linda whispered.

“How did—“ Patsy rolled her eyes as Meredith coughed. “It’ll wait.”

Everyone went about their own business until Meredith had watched enough.

“Seaton, grab your jacket.” Meredith jerked his head towards the door and Seaton followed him out, pulling his jacket on as he went.

“What’s going on?” Kent asked.

“No one knows, that’s the second carpark chat they’ve had today. The skipper seemed happy enough when he came back in. “Where did he go?” Linda asked, looking at Patsy.

“I don’t know. He said to do the interview with Tom, he’d be a couple of hours. Louie, did you pick up on the bit about a transfer?”

“I did. It’s not on her record. There’s very little on it other than dates and locations,” Trump replied.

“Hmm. I can’t believe the only person she told was Brendon Cook.” Patsy shook her head. “That’s quite a big thing, she’d only been there six months.”

“Perhaps she did, and no one thought it was important in relation to her going missing, so didn’t mention it. It might not be,” Kent suggested.

“No, it might not, but I still think it would have come up. I’m going to check through Fairweather’s notes again. We might have missed it.” Patsy turned her attention to her computer. “Have you finished that notebook yet, Linda? Might be something in there that Rich French noted.”

“Nearly, and not as yet,” Linda replied.

“Then why don’t you get on with it, rather than wondering what Meredith is doing?” Patsy grinned as Linda huffed.

“You can’t tell me you lot aren’t wondering, too.” Linda pulled the notebook forward.

“We are. But as we don’t know if they’ll be ten minutes or two hours we’re getting on. Meredith will tell us when he gets back.”

“But he knows we like to know. He’s put nothing in the diary and has disappeared twice today. It’s not on.” Linda’s head began moving from the notebook to her screen.

“It’s not. You can tell him when he gets back,” Patsy said.

“What’s up?” Seaton asked as he followed Meredith into the carpark.

“I’ve been to see Sue, and—“

“You’ve what? You had no right to. None. She doesn’t want everyone to know yet. She wants to gather herself. I promised her, Meredith, I bloody promised her.” Seaton clenched his fists and stood square on to Meredith, barely containing his anger at the betrayal.

“She wants you to go home.” It was not lost on Meredith that Seaton had used his name for the first time in the twenty-odd years of working together. He inclined his head. “She needs you with her.”

“She told you that, did she?” Seaton jabbed Meredith’s chest.

“Yes. She said she can’t move for the first hour after you leave the house because she’s paralysed with fear. I told her I was sending you home, so she’s waiting for you. Go home, Tom.”

“Just like that? Super Meredith turns up, and she backs down after months of refusals. Is that what you’re asking me to believe? Because I don’t. What did you say to her?”

“Not much. I told her I would get you compassionate leave, part-time if she didn’t think she’d cope with you being around twenty-four-seven, just until everyone is satisfied that she’s safe. Not sure if I can pull the part-time bit off, but I’ll work it out somehow.” Seaton was still shaking his head and Meredith sighed. “If it helps, I also told her she could kick you out if you were too painful to have around and I’d take you back, and I will, despite the fact you’re an ungrateful bastard.”

“Did you upset her?” Seaton asked.

“Not intentionally, although she stained my shirt.” Meredith pointed at the watermark on his chest. “She needs you at home, Tom. I’m better placed than you to know that what a woman says when they are emotionally wrung out is not necessarily what they mean, and certainly not what they need. Are you going home or what? Because I’ve got calls to make, and a case that needs sorting out.”

Seaton nodded and held out his hand. When Meredith took it, he pulled him into a hug.

“You better not be crying. The shirt will go in the machine, but this suit needs to be dry cleaned.” Meredith heard the sniff. “How many people do you reckon are looking out of the windows at us? You are ruining my street cred.”

Seaton pushed Meredith away. “You never had any,” he said, turning away quickly. “I’ll call you later.” He held up his hand as he walked towards his car.

“Okay, you’re lucky I didn’t want Sue to look at your face with a black eye and a thick lip. That’s usually the result when someone pokes me,” Meredith called.

Seaton turned back round, a smile playing on his lips as he looked up at the building. “Well, if anyone was watching, you really would have lost any street cred you thought you had. It’s embarrassing taking a hiding in front of the troops.”

“We’ll never know, because of my admirable self-control. Speak later.”

Seaton grunted a laugh and shook his head as he turned back to his car. “Self-control. Deluded, Guv. Deluded.”

Meredith watched until Seaton had driven away. At least he was calling him Guv again.

“What have I missed?” Meredith asked as he strolled back into the office.

“Sophie Dawson called. We can see her today as long as we can go to her. She lives in Brentry now,” Patsy told him.

“What time?” Meredith asked as he dropped back into his chair.

“In an hour.”

Meredith pursed his lips as he checked the time. “Okay, call and tell her Trump and I will be with her at two o’clock. Trump, have a look at her statement and interview again. Get a list of questions. I have calls to make.” After scrolling through his phone Meredith jotted something down before taking his phone and leaving the room.

“And there he goes again,” Linda observed.

“Linda, my sweet, we can all see what’s happening. Is it possible for you just to get on with something and leave out the running commentary on DCI Meredith’s movements?” Trump asked.

Linda opened her mouth but seeing the look on Trump’s face, mimicked zipping it shut, huffed and turned back to the notebook.

Thirty minutes later, George walked back into the office. “Nothing but several cups of tea, and a piece of cake Linda would have binned,” he announced, throwing his jacket over the back of the chair. “What a waste of time that was. Who’s Meredith shouting at, and why was he hugging Tom?”

“The shouting could be anyone, but hugging Tom, are you sure?” Patsy asked.

“No, because I wasn’t there. Jack downstairs told me. He thought they were going to have a punch-up at one stage, then they hugged, after which Tom drove off. I thought the shouting was connected,” George replied. “What’s new?”

“The skipper hugging Tom mainly. Do you think Tom is ill?” Linda asked.

“Don’t speculate, Linda. It could be many things. Work, please.” Trump looked at Patsy who gave a small twitch of the shoulders.

Meredith rarely did man hugs, so that was worrying. Patsy didn’t pass comment, instead said, “Meredith is seeing Sophie Dawson with Louie later. If he’s shouting, it’s probably best we get on with some work.”

Another twenty minutes passed before Meredith stormed into the office. “I’m going out and I don’t know how long I’ll be. Hodge, you’re with Trump on the Dawson interview.”

“I’ll put it in the diary, Skipper. Where are you going?” Linda ignored the tut from Louie and smiled at Meredith.

“Round the bend at the moment. Call me if anything happens,” Meredith snapped and left again.

“That doesn’t sound good. It’s nearly one o’clock. Shall we grab a sandwich on the way, Patsy?” Louie asked.

“Now you’re keeping secrets.” Linda’s hands were on her hips. “You’re only doing that so you can talk in private,” she said, accusingly.

“No. I’m escaping before you start speculating again and I become very cross. Patsy?” Louie looked across at Patsy who was already lifting her bag.

“Ready when you are.” She waited until they were in the car before she turned to Trump. “I have no idea, Louie, but let’s find a cafe and we can speculate in private.”

Chapter Twelve

Sophie Dawson opened the door. Mop in one hand, she beckoned them in. “Go on in and take a seat. Only I could choose a repairman who forgets to reconnect the pipes. I’ll be two minutes.”

Patsy and Trump went into the nondescript living room, Trump sat in an armchair, and Patsy perched on the two-seater sofa and looked around.

“It’s very minimalist, isn’t it?” Trump whispered.

Patsy nodded. To her, the room was soulless. White walls and paintwork, grey carpet, grey furniture and not one hint of colour or anything personal. No pictures, or photographs, or rugs or even the odd throw. A television was mounted on one wall, the remote control balanced on the arm of a chair.

Sophie hurried into the room. “Excuse the mess,” she joked. “It’s awful, isn’t it? I’ve only been here a month. New carpet went down a couple of days ago, and I’m itching to make it messy.”

“Or add some colour?” Patsy suggested with a smile. “I’ll be recording this.” Patsy hit the red button and set the recorder on the carpet.

“Loads of colour. But I can’t decide on red or turquoise for an accent, so I’m holding off until I’ve had a chance to settle in. I haven’t got the money to waste on mistakes. But on the bright side, it’s all mine, and the mortgage repayments are less than the rent I was paying, and I was sharing then.” Sophie’s nose wrinkled.

“You didn’t get on with your housemates?” Patsy asked.

“That would be a no. Not in the end. It was okay for the first couple of years with Fred, but then he found love. Really noisy, frequent love, with a girl who was taking away your plate while the fork was still in your mouth and suggesting cleaning products every time she caught a glimpse of your bedroom. I am normal, I promise, but I was losing my sanity and my temper. Lack of sleep does that.”

Trump smiled at her. “You live alone now, I take it?”

“I do. Not how I planned…No. Let’s not go there. Yes, I do. I’ll see how I get on and if I miss the grunts, groans and indigestion, I might let the spare room out. Anyway, you’re not here to listen to me witter on. We should talk about Corina. Shit, where are my manners, do you want a drink?”

“No, we’re fine. Just had lunch. Come and sit down,” Patsy replied.

Sophie took the chair opposite Trump and drew in a breath. “So, what do you want to know?”

“Everything and anything,” Patsy told her. “But let’s start with her love life. You said at the time that Corina didn’t have a boyfriend, although you thought she might be seeing someone. How long had she been single?”

“All the time I’d known her. She’d had dates, but nothing that lasted very long,” Sophie replied.

“Was there a reason for that?” Trump asked.

“Because she was looking for love.” Sophie sighed. “Corina had decided she wanted to settle down. If she hadn’t felt something by the second date, didn’t matter how gorgeous, amusing, or how many orphans the man had rescued, if she knew it wouldn’t end up with happily ever after she called it a day. She wanted the roses round the door, and a pot plant in the window, and didn’t mind waiting for the right man to turn up. But to find him you have to go looking and she didn’t, not really.” Sophie shrugged. “Madness, because she was only twenty-three.”

“You didn’t agree with her?” Patsy asked.

“No. I had, or should say have, a more realistic view of life, and I learned the hard way that even if you meet who you consider to be Mr Right, it might still go wrong. I’m not against taking your time looking for him as long as you’re having fun in the meantime. There are a lot of two-timing, lying…actually, thinking about it, she was probably on to something. She just didn’t test the market often enough.”

“You also suggested that she might have been seeing someone you didn’t know about. Mainly based on a shouted telephone conversation.” Trump glanced at his notes.

“A shouted telephone conversation she denied having. I did some digging on that. It wasn’t her brother, nor any of the friends I knew, nor anyone from work. That made me think it was someone she was seeing. Hence my suggestion.”

“You did this before her disappearance?” Patsy asked.

“Yes. She was being weirdly secretive, so I asked around. Not in your face, like with a witness, just casual, in conversation. I know what you’re thinking. That I might have alerted someone to Corina being less than discreet, and letting others know something they shouldn’t. But I don’t think I did. That did occur to me, so I went back over the conversations I’d had, and I can’t see it. Everyone liked Corina, there was nothing to dislike.”

“That would indicate you considered that if someone had caused Corina’s death, it could be someone close to her.” Trump held Sophie’s gaze.

“Of course I did. You look at stuff like this from every angle. At the time I was asking, I just wanted to know what was wrong with her. When her body turned up, I went over the conversations to check I hadn’t missed something that was off. I don’t think I did.”

“How did you ask DCI Granville?” Patsy asked.

“What do you mean?” Sophie replied.

“He was your boss, so I’m guessing you didn’t go up to him and say, was it you Corina was shouting at?” Patsy inclined her head as Sophie’s brow furrowed.

“No, not quite like that. I was working. The boss came in and we exchanged grunts. He went into his office. He came out to get some coffee and asked if Corina had finished something the day before. I didn’t know, so I told him that and asked if he’d noticed that she’d been a bit off colour. He said something like she’d better not be pulling a sicky the next day because he’d be waiting for it, so I explained she’d just been acting weird, not ill.”

“Did you go into detail?” Trump asked.

“Not really, just said she’d been snappy, making calls that ended with her shouting, then saying nothing was wrong.”

“And his response?” Trump pressed.

Sophie snorted. “He said, standard female behaviour then, and walked away.”

“What about Richard French? How did he respond?”

“Pretty much the same, but not so crass. Said she’d talk when she was ready, and she’d been absolutely fine at work.”

“And Brendon Cook?” Patsy asked.

“Just shrugged and said she’d been okay with him. Look, am I missing something? Do you think someone she knew did this? Banged her over the head and shoved her into the harbour. Because I can’t see it. Why? Even if they’d had a massive row or she’d found out something they didn’t want her to know, they wouldn’t kill her. What could be so important that it led to her being murdered?”

“Is it likely she knew something that would get her killed?” Patsy asked.

“No. No. She’d have told me.” Despite the words, Sophie sounded hesitant.

“But she didn’t tell you what was worrying her. I’m guessing that was for one of two reasons: it might have been too personal, and something she didn’t want to admit, or it could have been about someone you both knew, and she didn’t want to involve you,” Patsy suggested.

Sophie looked at her lap, her lips pursed.

“Sophie?” Patsy moved to sit on the edge of the sofa. “What’s just occurred to you?”

“You know, don’t you?” Sophie asked.

Nodding, Patsy asked, “Know what?”

“Bloody hell. How did you find out? It wasn’t from Bob, that’s for sure. You’re good, I’ll give you that. But it had nothing to do with Corina, and it was all over well before she disappeared.”

“Why don’t you tell us your side of the story?” Patsy suggested.

“It was the standard ill-advised office fling. It lasted a couple of months. Bob had split with his wife, and he was moody. One evening we went for a drink because he needed cheering up, one thing led to another, and we had fun for a while.”

“Why did it end?” Trump asked.

“His wife is very needy. He went back to her.” Sophie shrugged. “I’m a big girl. It was stupid enough sleeping with him when he was single, but I wasn’t going to do it while he was living with his wife. That way a bad reputation lies.”

“And there was no ill feeling?” Trump asked, his eyebrows showing his disbelief.

“No.” Sophie mirrored the raised eyebrows. “We’re grownups and I don’t sleep with married men.”

Trump chose not to mention Cook’s comments about Rich French, reminding her that he was married. “But Granville didn’t see it that way.” It was a statement, not a question, and Trump got the reaction he was expecting.

“Not at first. He didn’t see why we couldn’t carry on. He was there for the kids, not for her. Said she’d lost the plot. I explained the facts of life about single girls and their options, and he finally accepted it was over. Let’s get back on track, because this has nothing to do with Corina. Next question.” Sophie leaned back and crossed her legs.

“Did Corina know about it?” Trump asked.

“She did. It didn’t kill her.” Sophie’s arms folded across her chest.

“What was her opinion?”

“The same as any normal sane person. She thought I was mad. I probably was. If it hadn’t been for the tie pin, she’d never have known.”

“Tie pin?” Trump lifted his own tie.

“Yep, just like that, but not so flashy. He’d left it at the flat, or it had fallen off, but she found it. I said a friend must have left it and I’d give it back. The stupid man wore it to work a few days later. Corina noticed. She asked, and I told the truth. She tore me off a strip, went a bit over the top, I thought. When he went back to the wife, I ended it. We moved on. Everyone was happy.”

“Did the rest of the team know?” Patsy asked.

“No. And even if they did, which they didn’t, because I would have had even more lectures, it wouldn’t have killed Corina. Look, interesting though this clearly is to you, it’s history. It was over ages before Corina went missing, and I was only seeing him for a few weeks. Can we move on?”

“Of course. One last question.” Patsy smiled. “How did it affect Corina’s relationship with Granville?”

“It didn’t. Just like when it ended, it didn’t affect mine with him either. We’re professionals. There was a bit of slap and tickle, and, as I keep saying, we all moved on. All of us. Including Corina. Look, I have to ask, how did you know about it? It certainly wasn’t from Bob.”

“The party, when you wanted his opinion on having another woman’s leftovers. He had a row with his wife about him having an affair. Two and two, you know,” Patsy told her.

“Wow. Congratulations. Perhaps you will find out what happened to Corina. I didn’t know about the row until the next day. Bob wasn’t happy, but like I said to him, you create your own happiness, and he decided to leave it.”

Patsy decided to move on. “Why did Corina want a transfer?”

“What? She didn’t! Did she? No. She’d have said something. When did she apply?” Sophie was genuinely shocked. “Why?”

Patsy considered this for a moment and couldn’t decide how much information she wanted going back to Granville.

Trump answered for her. “I understand there were several reasons, but the one she gave was working for Attila, her nickname for DCI Granville. It seems Corina didn’t much like working for Bob, and if I’m honest with you, we initially thought it might be Corina who’d had the affair with him, not you.”

Sophie looked lost. “But she didn’t say. Why didn’t she tell me?”

“That I can’t say. I can see it’s come as a shock. Given the nature of your relationship with DCI Granville, I’m surprised he didn’t mention it.”

“Me too. Bloody hell, you think you know someone. Did Harry know?” Sophie asked.

“We haven’t asked him yet, although I’m sure he would have said something if he did. Perhaps she kept it to herself. Transfers can take some time.”

“But something must have caused that. She’d been acting weird, she requested a transfer, and then totally out of character goes out to town the night before she had to work.” Sophie covered her face with her hands. When she lowered them, she said, “Her death wasn’t an accident, was it?”

“Possibly not. We’ve a long way to go,” Trump answered honestly. “Is there anything else you want to tell us?”

Sophie shook her head. “No, but I’ll call you if I think of anything. Jesus. I thought this was all a waste of time and resources, you know. Money that could be spent on solving crimes. Now I’m not so sure. Will you keep me posted?”

“Probably not. That’s not the way this works,” Patsy replied, lifting the recorder.

“You’re saying I’m a suspect?” Sophie snorted a laugh. “Give me a break. Why would I call her in missing?”

“I didn’t say that. But I won’t make promises I can’t keep, and we can’t have people calling for updates. I was simply being honest.”

“Okay. On that happy note, I’m guessing you’re leaving.” Sophie clearly didn’t believe Patsy and looked at the recorder in her hand. “For the record, I might have dubious taste in men, but I didn’t kill Corina. Why would I?” She jerked her head towards the door. “Shall I show you out, or was there something else?”

“Nothing at the moment, but please call if you think of anything else.”

Patsy followed Trump to the car. “You did that on purpose,” she said, accusingly.

“What? Mention that Granville was the reason Corina was considering a transfer? Of course I did. If DCI Granville wants chapter and verse from his team once they’ve spoken to us, let’s give them something to tell him. She might be calling him as we speak. If he isn’t involved, he has nothing to worry about.”

“But if he is, or has knowledge he’s not shared, you’ve rattled his cage.” Patsy closed the car door. “It’s an awful thing to say, Louie, but I really do think Corina’s death was intentional, and that being the case, it’s more likely to be linked to work than a random attack, although I can’t put my finger on why. Do you think Meredith is back yet?” Patsy asked.

“Only one way to find out.”

Chapter Thirteen

“Have a seat.” Meredith said as Patsy and Trump returned to the office.

“Will do, but can I have a quick word first, sir?” Trump asked.

“Nope. I’m only saying this once, and you’re all here. Sit.” Meredith swigged his coffee waiting for them to settle. When they had, he was short and concise. “The reason Tom isn’t here is because he’s on extended compassionate leave for the foreseeable. He might pop in from time to time, he might even turn up for a day. If he does, it’s business as usual. He’ll be coming here for some respite, so won’t want to be highjacked every time he arrives.” Meredith shook his finger at Linda, and she dropped her hand. “Unfortunately, the lovely Sue has MS. At the moment, she’s struggling with her balance, and her eyesight has been affected. Tom is going to make the house as safe as he can and give her what support he can while they get their heads around it. They both wanted a get-out clause for him and we’re it. So business as usual when he’s here. I can’t tell you much more than that. He’s still coming to terms with it himself so no calls bothering him, he has promised he will ring you all over the coming week. There is no cure. Sue is only going to get worse, but how soon, and how severely, can’t be predicted. But I have googled it, and there is a chance she could live to an average life expectancy, but she will be disabled to some degree.”

Meredith held his hands up. “That’s it. No questions, I don’t have the answers. Leave them in peace until Tom makes contact. Loopy, stop putting your hand up. No questions. Take a moment if you need to, but then get on with something useful. Trump, you wanted a word. Please tell me I’m not going back to the carpark.”

“No, here will do. It’s nothing private,” Trump replied.

“Yet it was important enough to try to interrupt me? Come on then, spit it out. Everyone is now intrigued.” Meredith sat on the corner of his desk and crossed his arms.

“As you know, Patsy and I have just returned from speaking to Sophie Dawson. It was an interesting conversation during which she confirmed, as we suspected, that she’d had what she described as a brief fling with DCI Granville while he was separated from his wife. It ended when they got back together but was the reason she was taunting him at the party about women who have affairs getting short shrift, so to speak. When we asked why Corina had applied for a transfer, she claimed she didn’t know anything about it. And, knowing that DCI Granville would want to debrief her, I told her it was because of DCI Granville.”

Meredith held back his smile. “Because?” he asked.

“Because if DCI Granville was involved in Corina’s discomfort, be it at work, or perhaps because of Sophie, he should know about it,” Trump replied.

“Very admirable. And? Why don’t you tell us the real reason?” suggested Meredith.

“That was the reason, in part. The other part, of course, was if DCI Granville knew something about or was involved in her death it would unsettle him. If he’s unsettled, we’ll find out about it. Either way, it’s likely that you’ll be receiving a phone call, hence, I wanted to warn you about why he might call.”

“Thank you. We got there in the end. You’ve lit the touchpaper, now we’ll await the fireworks or perhaps see if it was a damp squib. Either way, I’ll be getting it in the ear. I’ll read the transcript later. What were your thoughts, Hodge?”

“I think Sophie had more feelings for Granville than she cares to admit. Not sure they still exist, who knows? But he knew that and wanted to carry on with their affair after he returned to the marital home. They kept the affair under wraps, of course, and it shocked Corina when she found out. We’ll need to firm up the dates, but given her comments to Cook about the reason for wanting a transfer was both Granville and living and working with Sophie, maybe there was more to that shock than finding out her flatmate was sleeping with the boss. I—“

“Do you mean,” Linda interrupted, “that Corina was having an affair with him, too? Nooo!. Because if that’s what you mean, he would have been sleeping with them both at the same time. Who would do that? The risk of getting caught out would be huge.” Linda shook her head. “It can’t be.”

“Someone wanting his cake and eating it,” Kent suggested. “But perhaps he wasn’t having an affair with Corina. Perhaps he wanted one? Is that likely, Guv?”

Meredith raised his eyebrows. “Why are you asking me?”

“Because you’ve met him, you’ve seen his personnel file.”

“This is true. But it doesn’t give me psychic powers, which brings me to guesswork. Loopy, have you not finished with French’s diary yet?”

Linda put her hands on her hips. “I tried to speak to you when you came back. You told me to shut up and sit down.”

“I think you’ll find the term was button it. Okay, what’s the answer to the question?”

“What quest…ah, yes, it’s done. There are some bits I found interesting, you might not, and some might be—“

“Email it.”

“I’ve printed it off for you.” Linda lifted a document from her desk and waved it at him.

Meredith walked across and collected it. “Okay, email it to everyone else. I might miss something. Daisy, when are the others from Granville’s team coming in?”

“Tomorrow. Two should be one after the other. One at nine, the next at ten. Then the one who was on holiday, David English, is in at half one. It’s all in the diary,” Daisy replied.

“He doesn’t look at the diary. Don’t think he knows how to use it.” Linda clamped her hand to her mouth. “Too loud? Oops. Sorry, Skipper, but it’s true.”

Meredith sniffed. “It’s not. But I know you like interfering. This gives you the opportunity. I thought Granville wouldn’t release them until next week. Interesting. So, what’s next?”

“Tom was down to speak to Tyrone Selway with Will in ten minutes. With you two disappearing and Patsy and Louie out, Will was going to do it with George.”

“George should already have finished for the day. I’ll do it. Trump, and Hodge, get your notes written up, one of you two get that interview transcribed. When you’re done, you can call it a day. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, if I don’t see you before. Kent, have you got his original interview handy? I’ll take this as my homework, Loopy.” Meredith waved the document at her. “Kent, let’s get ready for him.”

Once settled in an interview room, Kent opened his tablet and summarised Selway’s interview, and Meredith tutted.

“Nothing of any use,” Meredith complained.

“If he did it, there wouldn’t be, would there?” Kent asked.

“He didn’t do it. He’s not close to home, but I hoped that he might have said something that helped,” Meredith replied.

“You believe the notes Carrington received?” Kent raised his eyebrows.

“That’s Chief Constable Carrington to you, “ Meredith winked, “But yes, and no. Yes, because why bother otherwise? If whoever wrote that note knows nothing, and only wants to stir up a bit of trouble, what’s the point? And, no, because until proven, it could indeed be a fairy story. But at the moment I’m working on yes, because…and here’s a bit of trouble.” Meredith flashed his phone at Kent. “DCI Granville. Although, to be fair, this is probably Trump’s doing, not our pen pal.”

Meredith took the call. “Bob, what can I do for you? I only have a minute, about to go into an interview.” Meredith leaned back in his chair as Granville replied. “I’ve not heard this. Look, I’m doing this interview and leaving for the day. I can come and see you tomorrow…yes, we’re all busy. Up to you. You say when but not today…Okay, give me a shout.” Meredith hung up. “It seems someone has been asking inappropriate questions. Trump’s instincts were correct, and now he has to tell me all about it. I wonder—“ The door opened. “Is our man here? Kent, you can lead.”

Meredith got to his feet and went to collect Tyrone Selway. Once settled, Kent attempted to explain why they’d asked to see him.

“Thanks for coming in, Tyrone. As explained—“

“You’re looking into that copper who drowned. Yes, I know. It was easier for me to come here. I’m working around the corner, so excuse the state of me.” Selway held out his grubby hands and looked down at his paint splattered clothes. “I’m going out tonight, so I haven’t got long. I can’t tell you anything other than I didn’t kill her.”

“Let’s just run over it. Maybe something will come to you.” Kent smiled.

“Hardly. You’ll be lucky if I remember what I told you back then. It was a long time ago,” Selway warned.

“It was. But a young girl died, so let’s give it a go. As I understand it, when Corina left the bar, you were drinking outside with your friends. Did—“

“Yep. Most of us were smokers then. We all vape now, although it will still probably kill us, but it’s easier and cheaper. It was busy inside, and the music was crap, so we decided to brave the cold and sit out under the heaters. Mind you, they’re only any use if you’re directly below them,” Selway informed him.

“I agree. So you’d been outside for a while then?” Kent asked.

“After the first pint,” Selway confirmed.

“From what time would you say?”

“You’re going to ask if I saw her arrive? Yes, I did. She was on her own. You notice these things when you’re single. Although, I’m not now. But I still notice.” Selway winked at the two men opposite him.

“So you fancied her. Did you go inside to see what she was doing, to see if she’d met up with anyone? Girlfriends, boyfriend, her mum?”

“Nope. I’m not a stalker. I just noticed she was a looker. If I’m being honest, I would probably have given the bar a scan if I’d gone back in. But I didn’t, not even for a pee. I was starving, running out of money, and had to get a cab home. It’s why I left. We’d been on a crawl since mid-afternoon, and again, being honest, even if she was interested in me, I was of no use to her. But she wasn’t, and she told me to piss off. I was only trying to help her. Bloody cheek. One of the lads said it was probably her time of the month, and we all had a laugh. I felt guilty when I heard she’d drowned, but I wasn’t chatting her up, just trying to stop her hurting herself. They should have a stripe on that step. It’s lethal.” The grubby hands were raised again. “That’s it. That’s all I can tell you.” Selway looked up at the clock. “Is that it? Only like I said, I’m out tonight and I’ve got to get home and get ready. Don’t want the missus in a strop before we even get out the door.”

“Hang on, one minute.” Kent reopened his tablet and found the footage he was looking for. “In the original investigation, did they show you any of the CCTV stuff?”

“No. All but accused me of pushing her in, though! Bloody idiots.”

Kent showed Selway the footage Meredith had used in the briefing.

“Did you notice this man? He arrives five minutes before Corina, and here she is leaving, and here he leaves, and then you do.”

“Um, I think so. I couldn’t swear to it, but if he was the bloke in front of me, he stopped to make a phone call and I bumped into him. Down by the bridge, whatsit, the one with the trumpet things.”

“Pero’s Bridge?” Kent said.

“That’s the one. He apologised, showed me his phone, and said, ‘women’ and then it pissed down with rain and we both ran into Spoons.”

“You mean the Wetherspoons, the V Shed?” Kent asked.

“Yep. It rained for so long I had to have a pint,” Selway told him. “Music was better in there as well.”

“So neither of you got as far as Pero’s Bridge?”

“Not then. I did once I’d finished my pint.”

“What happened to this man?” Kent kept the questions coming.

“You can’t be serious. How would I know? One, I’m straight, I don’t look at blokes. Two, even if I did, I was soaked and trying to get out of the rain and get a pint. Three, do you know how many people were in there? Hundreds. We just ran for it and did whatever we needed to.” Selway pointed a finger at Kent. “And don’t be forgetting, I can’t even swear it was him.” He lowered his finger and tapped the tablet. “Half the world had coats like that on. The sensible half. The stupid half, like me, thought a hoodie would do it. It didn’t. Bloody soaked. Are we done now?”

Meredith leaned forward. “Almost. So assuming it was this bloke, he stopped, you walked into him, and he turned round and spoke to you. Would you recognise him again?”

“Which answer gets me out of here the quickest?” Selway joked.

“The honest one. Start with his hair colour,” Meredith replied.

“In which case, possibly. He had dark hair, I remember that. Oh, and he was older than me. Other than that, I’d say he was average. But who knows, if I saw him again, it might be different. But what are the chances of that? Especially after what, ten years. I…Oh god, please don’t tell me you’re going to do a line-up. Not today.”

“No, you can go. We will pull something together, though. We’ll be in touch. Do me a favour, speak to the men you were with, ask if they might remember him,” Meredith replied.

Selway was already on his feet. “Will do. Bradley will have something to say. He always does, because he’s a genius. Straight up. He spoke to your lot back then, but didn’t get hiked in like me, but got a visit at home instead. Don’t know why.”

“Because he didn’t leave the bar at the same time or walk in the same direction as you did. Give Kent his number.” Meredith waited at the open door, while the number was found and written down. “And that’s you done. Have a nice evening, hope the missus isn’t in a strop. I’ll show you out. Kent, you can get off home now. See you in the morning.”

Kent thanked Meredith, shook Selway’s hand and headed in the opposite direction.

“You don’t think it was an accident, then?” Selway asked as Meredith opened the door to the reception area.

“I don’t know yet. Open-minded. I’ll be in touch. Tell Bradley the same.”

“I will.”

When Meredith went back into the office, only Patsy remained, and she jumped to her feet and pointed at him.

“Stay right there. We’re going home too. I need chapter and verse on Tom and where you kept disappearing to. Everything else can wait until tomorrow.”

Meredith looked across at his desk. “I’ve got homework over there. I promised Loopy.”

Throwing the strap of her bag over her shoulder, Patsy walked to his desk, collected Linda’s notes, and dropped them in her bag. “I might let you have them later.”

“It’s not six yet. What’s the hurry?”

“We’re going to Amanda and Frankie’s to eat. Peggy said six thirty on the dot or don’t bother coming, and the twins go down at around seven thirty at the moment.”

“Not sure I’ve got the stamina for Peggy. Can’t we just see the grandkids and escape?” Meredith asked.

“Nope, Peggy said it’s been a long time since we had a family meal, and she knew you wouldn’t want to wait until after they went to bed before you ate. She’s doing your favourite.” Patsy turned him to face the door. “Move, you’ve got a lot of talking to do on the way.”

“What’s my favourite? Peggy thinks it’s whatever she cooks that day.” Meredith loosened his tie.

“Which is usually true. You have no loyalty to any particular dish.”

“This is true.” Meredith pulled his keys from his pocket and dropped them into her hand. “You’re driving.”

Amanda was Meredith’s daughter, and Frankie her partner. Their twins were approaching their first birthday, and Peggy, the self-appointed matriarch of the family, although no relation, had moved in to help them out.

On the drive there, Meredith told Patsy about his meeting with Sue Seaton, his conversations with Tom, and his dash to the Chief Superintendent to get Tom compassionate leave.

“So after HR tried to give me the runaround, telling me they’d need a medical report and part-time compassionate doesn’t really work, I lost it. Ashworth was okay, he kind of signed off on it, because while I was there I gave him the people in glass houses talk.” Meredith yawned. “I should be on my sofa with a beer in my hand and a plate of food on my lap by now.”

“Then you wouldn’t see your daughter or the twins. And kind of signed off?”

“He said he’d see what he could sort out. I said I was sending Tom home, and he would be paid. He said he hadn’t heard that. I didn’t tell Tom that bit.”

“Okay, understood. Should I know what the glass house talk was about?” Patsy spotted a parking space. “Blimey, right outside! We’ve not managed that before.”

“Granville’s history. But we’re here now. You’ll have to wait. It was illuminating.” Meredith got out of the car and slammed the door, and Patsy followed him into the house.

“Merriwinkle, you’re early. Is it Christmas? Have aliens landed? No, I know that’s not right, it would have been on the news. They must have sacked you. Do I get a hug?” Peggy held out her arms and Meredith hugged her.

“Only because something smells delicious, and I get to see John and Katy. If it weren’t for that, no, because I do have feelings.”

Peggy released him and held out her cheek for Patsy. “Is he behaving himself?” she asked, ignoring Meredith.

“He is.” Patsy laughed. “They heard his voice, listen, they’re calling him.”

They went to the family room and found the twins on all fours making a dash for the door. They stopped dead when Meredith appeared.

Amanda grinned at her father. “Hello, Gampy. You’ve never been so popular.” She kissed his cheek as he scooped Katy up from the floor.

“I think you’ll find I have, but the twins’ opinions are far more important. Okay, I’m coming.” Balancing Katy on one hip, he lifted up her brother, who had pulled himself upright using Meredith’s trousers.

“Now you’re in charge. I’m going to help Peggy in the kitchen. We’re eating in there tonight as the twins are joining us.” Amanda grimaced.

“No problem. Where’s Sherlock?”

Amanda’s partner, Frankie Callaghan, was a senior forensic pathologist whom Meredith had nicknamed Sherlock when, years ago, he had noticed similarities in several deaths and helped solve a crime. Meredith often took advantage of his relationship with Amanda.

“In the shower. He’ll be here in a moment,” Amanda replied, before heading for the kitchen with Peggy.

“Why do you want Frankie?” Patsy asked.

“I asked him to have a look at Corina’s PM report. A long shot, but something might have been missed.”

“You really must stop dragging him away from his own stuff.”

“Why? Sherlock loves it.” Meredith had perched himself on the edge of the sofa, but now slid down onto the floor, allowing the twins to escape.

“What do I love?” Frankie entered the room and pecked Patsy on the cheek. “Nice to see you, Patsy.”

“ You love helping solve crimes. Did you get a chance to look at the file I sent over? I’m not chasing you. I didn’t even know we were coming here.”

“Looked as soon as I knew you were coming. Otherwise, you would have dragged me away, and then we would have been in for a long evening.” Frankie sat on the floor opposite Meredith and rolled a sponge ball to Johnny. “Johnny learned how to kick the ball today.”

“That’s because he takes after me. What did you find?” Meredith helped Johnny to balance and cheered when he kicked the ball back to his father.

Patsy had been intending to leave but stayed to hear what Frankie had to say.

“Well, the injuries were well documented and detailed. Cause of death was drowning, but she had a serious cranial haemorrhage, so had she not gone into the water that would have needed urgent attention. If not treated she’d have died, whether she went into the water or not,” Frankie replied.

“But? Because I can tell there’s a but,” Meredith said.

“Not really. But I don’t think it was a straightforward stumble, because the angle doesn’t make sense had she simply tripped. Doesn’t mean she was pushed, but let’s assume my leg is the harbour wall and my knee is the post where they discovered the blood, and my foot is Pero’s Bridge, which is the direction you believed she was walking in. Are you following me?”

“Of course. Get on with it or we’ll have Peggy chasing us.” Meredith rolled the ball back to Johnny and stroked Katy’s hair as she snuggled into him.

Frankie raised his knee a little and lifted a stuffed bear to assist. “If she was travelling in this direction,” he said, walking the bear along the outside of his leg towards his foot, “when she reached here, what could have occurred for her to turn and face the other direction because the blood was here?” Frankie turned the bear to face him and tapped the inside of his knee. “Meaning, she didn’t simply fall backwards, because the wound would have been on the right side of her head, or maybe more central.” The back of the bear was thumped onto Frankie’s knee. “She had to have fallen at an angle like this.” Frankie swivelled the bear and thumped it down so its right ear collided with his knee. “You see?”

“You’re saying she wasn’t facing Pero’s Bridge?” Patsy asked.

“No. Had she taken a fall facing in that direction, the blood would be on the other side of the post, or she would have missed it altogether.”

Meredith was nodding. “So the questions are: Why did she turn around? And what caused her to fall? Your theories please.”

“First, it wasn’t a stumble. The chances of her falling backwards had she tripped on something, or simply, I don’t know, gone over on her ankle were negligible. Had that happened, it’s more likely she would have fallen forward and put her hands out to break her fall. Unless, of course, something perhaps hit her on the back of the knees…hmm, unlikely but a possibility. However, my best theory is that she was walking in this direction, someone came up behind her, she turned and they hit her, hence the bruise on her right cheek, this caused her body to pivot a little, she lost her balance, fell backwards, at this angle, which led to her head colliding with the post.” The bear slammed down at the appropriate angle onto Frankie’s knee.

Johnny squealed, snatched up the bear. Their victim was now having its nose sucked.

“Is there another but?” Meredith asked.

“Not really, more another question. Again raised because of the angles.” Frankie held up his hand. “In the absence of Pooh bear, this is Corina. Head, feet.” Frankie pointed first to his fingers and then his wrist. “The victim falls backwards, hits her head at this angle so her feet would end up facing away from the water. Did she try to get to her feet? If so, how? Most people would roll onto their stomach, go onto all fours and push themselves up. If she did that without a hitch, she would have ended up on the safe side of the post. But she had a major head injury. Perhaps she stumbled, or perhaps she tried to heave herself up using the post and lost her grip before she completed the manoeuvre. I doubt you’ll ever know for certain but, in my humble opinion, her head did not collide with that post in a straightforward fall.”

“Your opinion is good enough for me. So, to summarise, Corina is heading towards Pero’s Bridge when a left-handed someone comes up behind her. She turns, gets walloped, falls backwards and, in her dazed state, they push her into the harbour. Correct?” Meredith asked.

Frankie’s head wobbled as he considered this, and he smiled. “Yes. Almost.”

“Hang on a minute. How did you get left-handed?” Patsy asked.

“Because if she was facing her attacker, the bruise would be on the same side as the hand causing the injury. I’m not just a pretty face, Hodge.”

“The jury’s out on that. You haven’t considered a backhander.” Frankie smirked as he moved his right hand from his left shoulder. “Are you ready for us?” Frankie asked when Amanda appeared in the doorway.

“We are.”

As they carried the twins through to the kitchen, Patsy nudged Meredith.

“That was called saved by the bell. You didn’t have to admit not considering a backhander.”

“Oh, I considered it but then quickly discounted it. If our villain is left-handed, it makes our job a lot easier. Although I remain open-minded, of course.”

Chapter Fourteen

Before the briefing the next morning, Meredith took George to one side and handed him a piece of paper.

“Those are the two stations Granville transferred out of. Get me the gossip but keep it under the radar as much as possible. Seems straightforward enough, but then it always does once it’s down on paper. Chief Super wants us to be discreet, so I won’t be covering it at the briefing.”

“Understood. Leave it with me,” George replied.

“Good man.” Meredith slapped his shoulder and clapped his hands as he walked to stand next to the pillar at one side of the room. “Listen up. We have our first interview in soon, so, I want everyone to know what they’re doing. Loopy, get the number of Selway’s mate Bradley from Kent and get him in here next week. We’ll go to him if necessary. Also, do a search and see if he’s got form, and check the socials. Hodge and Trump will speak to DC Binner, Trump and I will take DS Game. Which leaves us with Daisy. You get the tough job because you’re a genius. You are going to mock up what I’m about to tell you about the last moments of DC Corina Jone’s life. It’s now odds-on that she was murdered, so it’s likely to end up in court when we get our man. Assume this desk is the harbourside, this is the post, and this is the water. I don’t know how you’ll do it, but you’ll find a man that can if you haven’t got the necessary.” Meredith talked them through Frankie Callaghan’s theory.

Once done, he walked over to face George and told him to stand up. “I’m assuming that because the bruise was on her right cheek, our suspect will be left-handed.” He lifted his left hand and swung it at George, who ducked out of the way. “Left hand to right cheek. But remaining open-minded, it could have been a right-handed backhander.” He demonstrated again whilst George dodged about, moving his head from left to right. “Either way, it was forceful enough to cause a bruise, and cause Corina’s body to change direction, leading to her head hitting the post. But that could be manslaughter, I hear you shout. Wrong. It would have been manslaughter if she hadn’t drowned. Even if they didn’t push her in, they certainly didn’t help her out or raise the alarm. They knew she would die. Murder.”

Meredith’s face was solemn as he went back to lean on the pillar. “Now we know this, the game has changed. I don’t mind how many toes we step on. Trump?”

“I agree with the theory, And Frankie is rarely wrong, but it still doesn’t mean it was someone she knew, does it?”

“No. But what are the chances of her dashing out of the flat unplanned, presumably to meet someone, and then to leave the bar in a strop only to meet a stranger, who hits her in the face and leaves her to drown? Miniscule. So we’ll stick with the most likely. Corina Jones knew her killer. Loopy, this had better be a sensible question.”

“It is, Skipper. You didn’t tell George what you wanted him to do and there’s nothing in the diary. He’ll only moan if you go off interviewing witnesses and he hasn’t got a job. Sorry, George.” Linda blew George a kiss.

“George has got a job. It’s not going in the diary. Any more questions?” Meredith waited a beat. “Get on with it.”

Patsy returned Andrew Binner’s smile as she sat opposite him. He looked nervous and fiddled with his watch strap.

“Thanks for coming in, Andrew. We’ll be recording this. I’m Patsy and this is DS Trump. Louie.”

“Call me Andy. Who gets to see this? Actually, I don’t care. I know this is about Corina Jones, but will you look into DCI Fairweather’s death too? It needs it. I’m probably speaking out of turn, but he was a good man, and he wasn’t stupid. He didn’t try to get his lighter, he didn’t have the physique for it, and he certainly didn’t bloody jump. I know misadventure was a better result for his family than suicide, but something’s not right about his death, not right at all.”

Binner ran out of steam and slumped in his chair. “Sorry. I needed to get that out there. I made a fuss back then but nothing happened. Got all the usual platitudes and what have you, but absolutely nothing new happened. Nearly jacked it all in because of it. Didn’t want to work for a force that didn’t properly investigate the death of one of their own.”

“You didn’t think it was investigated properly?” Trump asked. “I don’t think that can be true. I know when one is emotionally invested in a case, it’s sometimes difficult to accept the outcome, but do you have specific reasons? For instance, we are investigating a case where DCI Fairweather’s last report to his superior suggested it was accidental death. We’re leaning towards murder. Manslaughter, at the very least. I doubt that sits very well with you, does it? Sometimes you have to accept what is and move on.”

Binner held up his hands before allowing them to fall back onto the table. “No. No specific reason. But the guv was onto something. He was pacing before the morning briefing, and he only did that when it was all coming together. I was expecting him to do a big reveal or maybe tell us something that would solve the case. But we got nothing. Just a summary of what we already knew, and a few follow-ups handed out. Then he paced some more, sat at his desk and went through his paperwork, eventually announcing he was going out and should be about an hour. Next thing we hear he’s supposedly fallen from some scaffolding at Corina’s nick.”

“Do you have an inkling what might have set him off pacing?” Patsy asked.

“No, he just paced. It wasn’t just me, because we all mentioned it when he shut himself in the office. You ask them. When he disappeared, we expected him to come back as the conquering hero. Instead, he came back in a box. I’m not saying he was pushed, although I haven’t ruled that out, perhaps the scaffolding was faulty, and they didn’t want to pay out. I don’t know, and if I’m honest, after all this time it will be like pissing in the wind, but I’d like you to investigate it, because if you don’t try you’ll never know. He wasn’t stupid enough to clamber about on it, and he didn’t jump. Can you speak to your governor?”

Trump held up a finger. “Can you keep a confidence?”

“Of course. I know I let my mouth run away with me at times, but not when I shouldn’t,” Binner replied.

“First, as I’ve already said, we don’t think Corina’s death was an accident, and DCI Meredith has already decided that when we’ve dealt with that as best we can, if he believes DCI Fairweather’s death was connected we’ll move on to that. For us to get to the bottom of either, we need your total honesty. Even if it’s only an opinion. Agreed?”

“Yes, why would I lie? What if it was a cover-up? What if it was some health and safety issue and the force didn’t want to put their hands up? It can’t be the scaffolding company because they’d have hung them out to dry, so it might be that they didn’t put the right signs up, or had agreed access for the smokers, when the scaffolders advised against it.”

Trump found a smile. “Then that’s what we’d find out. But I think it’s unlikely that anyone was given permission to access the scaffolding. I think DCI Fairweather would have known that and taken the risk. Whether or not there were signs, I think we would all assess the risk and apply common sense.”

Binner was nodding. “So you think he was pushed.”

“That’s not what I said,” Trump replied.

“Enough said. Shall we crack on with Corina? I’m happy you’ll do the necessary.”

“Before we come to the investigation itself, tell me what you think about the team Corina was working with at the time. Let’s start with Sophie Dawson.”

“Soph’s an excellent officer. We get paired a lot. She’s got a good nose, can’t understand why she doesn’t put in for promotion to sergeant. She’s more than good enough, and she’s single. Not going to be disappearing on maternity leave as soon as she gets her stripes. Don’t even know if I’m allowed to say that. But Soph is a committed singleton. She told me she’d given up on finding a decent bloke because I was already married.” Binner laughed. “She’s also got a sense of humour.”

“DS French?” Patsy prompted without comment.

“Same. He’s as sound as they come. What you see is what you get. Very calm. Like the Yin to the boss’s Yang. Not much more I can say.” Binner’s shoulders twitched.

“So DCI Granville needs a counterbalance?” Patsy asked.

“Sometimes he needs a bloody straitjacket but yes, he blows when something riles him. Rich, that is DS French, just sort of absorbs it, then shakes it off and moves on. I fall somewhere in the middle. Time and a place, or I suppose, just cause.”

“Does it ever get personal?” Trump asked.

“What do you mean?” Binner frowned.

“When DCI Granville blows, is it general? For instance, if you’d not done something you should have, and that caused an issue, would he tear you off a strip in front of the team, or would he bang about for a while?”

“Oh, he’s practised at tearing strips off, although to be fair, mostly behind closed doors, and usually warranted, just perhaps with a little more venom than necessary. Then he bangs about for a while.”

“Good man to work for?” Patsy asked.

“So-so. I’ve had better. DCI Fairweather, for example. But my first governor was a right nasty bastard, so, yes, in comparison he’s okay.”

“What about Joe Brown?” Trump smiled as Binner’s eyebrows rose.

“He’s a good bloke. He pulls everything together, so we don’t see him that much. Always in the morning briefing, tells us what we haven’t done, then disappears behind his screen. Amazing memory, though. I used to wonder why he joined the force, thought he’d be better off in a university library or similar. Then he started piping up with these little bits of information. Stuff he’d remembered from years before, you know, that warehouse has been robbed twice before, that suspect did five years for aggravated burglary. Good bloke to have around. He’s kind, but built like a brick sh…house, and I’ve often wished he’d been on a couple of shouts with me, because he looks like he’d rip your throat out.”

“Sounds like one of our team. Other than the rip your throat out part.” Patsy smiled. “I know you transferred there when your own team was disbanded. Was that before or after Steve Knight retired?”

“A bit before. He seemed okay, but I didn’t work with him long enough to pass a relevant comment.”

“Okay, thank you. Before we move on to your investigation into Corina’s death, tell me how the team was when you joined them. How did they respond?” Trump asked.

“Not sure what you mean? To us joining them or Corina’s death?” Binner was frowning again.

“Both,” Trump replied.

“Ah, okay, well, first they accepted us. I mean, why wouldn’t they? We were allocated desks, brought up to date on what they were working on, and it was business as usual. Sort of. It was a bit messy settling in because the boss had trouble at home. Not that he said, it was just common knowledge. He kept having to take calls. Soph was still upset about Corina and trying to find a new flatmate, so she was stroppy but mainly directed it at the boss. They had a couple of closed-door shouting matches. I thought they were a bit personal. I once heard her say, ‘Piss off, Bob’. No one calls him Bob. He didn’t react, though, so perhaps he realised she was still emotional. But it soon settled down, and once you got used to the difference in how you were directed, it was no problem.”

“Did you ever mention to the team that you thought DCI Fairweather’s death needed more attention?” Patsy asked.

“Of course. As I mentioned, I got platitudes. I didn’t keep on. What was the point? They weren’t responsible. It was more for those in their ivory towers.” Binner sighed. “Pointless.”

“Okay, moving on. Tell us about the investigation,” Trump said. “Where were you with it? What were the thoughts from the team and, given your beliefs, probably easier if you talk us through from when you opened it to when it was closed. Your thoughts and opinions are welcome. We’ve read the paperwork.”

“We got the call mid-morning, and the guv put a pause on everything else, as you would expect. We spoke to her team, nothing of any use, her brother and her mates. She didn’t have any other close family anywhere near, and no love interest that we knew of, although Sophie and a friend thought there might be something going on, but didn’t know who, if anyone. We had no idea where she went that evening, so the first couple of days were working out from her home in every direction until we found CCTV. Then we did an appeal. Television, online news, socials. We got a few might have seen calls, dotted all over the place and we liaised with her brother and Sophie to find out if there was any reason for Corina to be in those areas. Sophie was adamant that Corina said she was going into town. But which part? Broadmead, the Centre, the harbourside? That’s a lot of CCTV. We had a small allocation of uniforms and we hit the shoe leather. Pain in the arse stuff because the clientele in the evening differs totally from the yummy mummies, pensioners, and sightseers you get during the day.”

“And no luck, I take it?” Patsy asked.

“Not a sausage, until Bradley Canter saw it on Facebook. He called in. As a result, we found out she’d been in a bar in Millenium Square and had given…” Binner clicked his fingers as he bought Selway’s name to mind. “Tyrone Selway the brush off. Now we had a location, we had an area we could concentrate on. We had a team doing a daylight search, another ready to hit the area that night, and, of course, hours and hours of CCTV to wade through. Then a paddle boarder spotted her hand when they fell off. Her body was recovered, PM done. She had minor bruising to the face and arm, and a bloody great gash on her head. The next day, we pieced the CCTV together. We had her going in and coming out of the bar, and on the corner of the square where it joins the floating harbour, and once more before Pero’s Bridge. Then nothing. We knew she’d gone into the water, so we concentrated the search there. They found the blood by sheer luck. We had a bloke in a boat working his way along the inside of the harbour wall, looking for marks. Specifically nail marks. She had algae under her nails. He didn’t find those but he needed a pee, so was going to tie the boat up to that post and get out to find a toilet when he noticed it. We then had the probable entry point into the water and doubled up on people around that area. We had a bloke in a dark hooded anorak. In fact, we had several. But the weather that night kept everyone inside.” Binner let out a sigh. “We questioned Selway and Canter. We spoke to hundreds of people. Other than them, no one remembered seeing Corina, let alone her being pushed into the harbour.”

“So DCI Fairweather thought it was an accident?” Trump asked.

“No. He thought the wound on the back of her head was too severe. If she tripped or slipped, yes, she might have injured herself, like the bruise on the cheek, but he thought the head injury suggested something more violent. Alex, that’s DS Game, suggested it could have been a cyclist, a scooter, or maybe a skateboarder. They come flying along there, and mostly they’re silent. His mother had a terrible collision with a scooter a few weeks before. So we had another theory.”

“So your theories were: An accident, an unreported collision with someone in motion, or she jumped?” Trump asked.

“Or a mugging. Someone tried to grab her, struggle, fall, or pushed in. Couldn’t prove any of it.”

Patsy nodded. “Sounds reasonable, hence the open verdict.”

“Yep. Soph won’t have it that Corina jumped. Said she wasn’t the type, and we found nothing that would suggest she was troubled. But on balance, I agree with her, Soph has good instincts. If the guv had shared what had him pacing, it might have been a different matter. Whatever happened to him, we’d have known what to follow up. But he didn’t.”

Patsy made a note and closed the book. “I think that’s all we have to ask. Is there anything you want to ask us?”

“I’ve asked about DCI Fairweather, so I’ll leave that with you. Have you found out anything I’ve not mentioned?”

Trump shook his head. “Nothing that tells us what happened to her. I would ask a favour if I may, if anything else occurs to you, or anything gets mentioned you think we’d like to hear, please call us.”

“Sure. And you’ll have a word with DCI Meredith?” Binner asked.

“We will. Thank you for your time.” Trump opened the door, and Binner left the interview room.

Patsy looked into the corridor and saw him disappear through the swing doors. “What did you think?” she asked. “Because I think we need to investigate Fairweather’s death now. Unless he is a drama queen, which I don’t think he is, the two deaths are absolutely linked.”

“It certainly looks that way. We’ll see what DCI Meredith thinks, but I’m sure he’ll go with it. The trouble will be convincing the chief super and Elizabeth Carrington. I think they would probably rather not.”

“Which is why Meredith will want to do it. He’ll probably task you with convincing Uncle David.”

Chief Superintendent David Ashworth was Trump’s uncle and took a keen interest in Trump’s career. He hadn’t wanted him to join the CCRT due to the lack of prospects. Trump actively avoided him when possible.

Trump groaned. “I hope not.”

When Binner arrived back at his own station, Granville was in his office on the telephone. The door was closed.

“How did you get on?” French asked. “I put that report on your desk. You might want to get on with it. The boss is on one this morning.”

“Isn’t he always? Can I ask you a question? Make that several.” Binner perched on the corner of French’s desk so he could keep one eye on Granville’s office.

“Yep. As long as they’re quick, I should have left already.”

“Is there any likelihood of Corina having had a ‘you know what’ with the boss, too?”

French tutted and rubbed his chin as he considered his answer. “I doubt it, and I wouldn’t ask anyone else. His walls have ears. Why do you ask? Actually, don’t answer that, not here anyway. What was the other question?”

“Interesting. Don’t worry, we’ll catch up later.” Binner walked towards his desk.

“What was interesting?” French asked.

“You didn’t ask who else. I knew I was…Alright, boss, I’m going to start on the report now.” Binner held his thumb up to Granville, who had appeared in the doorway to his office.

“About time. What did you know?” Granville shoved his hands in his pockets and walked into the main office.

“That it would be pretty pointless questioning me. Nice team though. That Patsy Hodge is a looker.” Binner grinned. “I liked her.”

“I’m sure you did. She’s DCI Meredith’s wife. I hope you were appropriate.” French smiled. “I don’t think you should step on his toes.”

“His wife?” Granville asked. “Why don’t I know that? How do you know that?”

“Thought it was common knowledge,” French replied.

“Not to me. Who wants to work with their wife?” Shaking his head, Granville turned back to Binner. “What was said?”

“You know, just what you’d expect. What had we done? What did I think? I told them what I told you when I joined. The guv, that is DCI Fairweather, didn’t jump, and I don’t reckon it was investigated properly.” Binner shrugged, and a smile played on his lips. “Patsy said she’d speak to DCI Meredith about looking into it again. And if she gets pillow talk too, I’ll keep my fingers crossed. Lucky bastard. Right, I’d better get on with this report.”

“Fucking hell, that’s all we need. Another reason for having everything disrupted. Do you not think the death of an officer in a police station would have been thoroughly investigated? You’re an idiot if you think it would be anything other than a waste of time. Where’s Game?”

“Don’t know. Still there, I’m guessing. He was due in after me. When I first heard they were reopening Corina’s case, I thought what a waste of time, much like yourself, but if they extend it to look into DCI Fairweather’s case too, I’ll be more than happy to help.” Binner sat at his desk and flipped open the cover of the file. “Happy days. Alright, Soph?” Binner called as Sophie Dawson came into the office.

“He returns. How did you get on?” Sophie asked, shrugging her jacket off.

“As expected. Did you know Patsy Hodge was DCI Meredith’s wife?”

“No. Really? What a bugger. That’s him crossed off my eligible list. Louie Trump was nice too, though. Not the same spark, but nice.” Sophie glanced at Granville. “Did you have your say about your old guv?”

“No. No fucking no! This nonsense is wasting enough time. No more talk about it. Get on with some work. Now.”

Sophie tapped her fingers on her forehead. “Sir, does that mean you don’t want a resumé each time we’ve spoken to them? Let’s have a drink after work, Andy. We’ll catch up then.”

Granville jabbed a finger at Sophie. “I said work.” He turned and walked back to his office, leaving the door open.

French looked at Sophie and winked. “Trump is also married. I met his wife. She’s shiny, but very nice.” He lowered his head and grinned as Granville bellowed, ‘Work!’

Chapter Fifteen

Meredith looked up after there was a knock on the door and a wiry man, with a ruddy face and shaved head, pushed it open and held up a hand.

“DS Game re the Corina Jones case. They told me to come up.”

Meredith cursed silently as he went to greet him. “DCI Meredith. Wasted your time, we’re going back downstairs. Kent. Loopy, we do not require refreshments.” Meredith noticed Game’s eyebrows rise as he flung his hand back towards the corridor.

Once settled in the interview room, Meredith started the recording.

“Before we get going, tell me why you looked surprised up there, was it because I was making you come back down or because you’re not getting a hot drink?” Meredith pointed at the water cooler in the corner.

A smile flirted with Game’s lips. “Neither, sir.”

“But you were surprised. If you had any hair, your eyebrows would have disappeared.”

Kent didn’t know where Meredith was going and chewed the inside of his cheek to keep his own smile at bay.

“I wasn’t aware of that.” Game shrugged.

“Yes, you were. I gave my…Okay, I got there. Why were you surprised I was speaking to you?”

“Oh, right. Because if this was the other way round, you’d probably be speaking to me or Rich French, not the boss. Although I suppose he might have met with you because of the rank.”

“Ah. I’ve heard about delegation and losing yourself in paperwork. Doesn’t work for me. Let’s crack on. Other than not getting his hands dirty, tell me about DCI Granville. What’s he like to work for? And then, more specifically, what it was like there when you joined after your team was dispersed.”

Game’s eyes strayed to the camera for a moment. “I’m not sure what you want from me. DCI Granville is a decent copper. He knows what he wants and how he wants to achieve it. He can be blunt, but that’s needed sometimes.”

“Very diplomatic. I’m asking you to tell tales out of school, I know that. Your loyalty is commendable. It’s not nice, very uncomfortable, but I’ve read the postmortem reports on two dead coppers, so I’m not feeling very diplomatic, and I need to know what was happening before and shortly after their deaths.” Meredith forced a smile.

Kent rubbed his forehead. So much for softly, softly. He wondered if Meredith knew something about Game that was putting him on the offensive.

“Is DCI Granville under investigation, or are you looking for gossip?” Once again, Game’s eyes moved to the camera.

Meredith turned and looked up at it. “A straight talker, we’re going to get on well. The recording is for my team only. DCI Granville isn’t under investigation. I’ll also be asking you about the rest of the team. I started with him because you brought him up. You didn’t ask what two officers.”

“Okay, understood. I didn’t ask who because it was obvious. First, Corina Jones died, and then, in the middle of the investigation into her death, DCI Fairweather did. Neither death was expected. I didn’t realise they had been linked, though. I understood you were only looking into our investigation on Corina.”

“I am. But if I took a dive off some scaffolding while investigating another officer’s death, I’m sure I’d be right in thinking my team would ask questions. I’m asking them now. Might be nothing in it, but it will save me doubling back if that becomes necessary. Are you going to answer questions rather than asking them?”

Game smiled. “Yes, sir. DCI Granville is okay to work for. If I had to choose between them, I’d go for DCI Fairweather, because he shared his thoughts in a considered way. DCI Granville gives orders, asks questions, but isn’t as forthcoming or…I’m going to say encouraging as the guv was. I know that sounds soft, but it’s like he has a filter on until something pisses him off, then it’s firework time. Luckily, that doesn’t happen very often, although I think he takes too long to calm down. I’m more a ‘blow your top and then get on with it’ man. When we joined his team, they were as good as gold. He was broody, but had some personal issues going on, but he did his job. Rich French is a good bloke, very capable when he needs to step up and does so without a fuss. Sophie Dawson and the others are competent officers. I’ve got no complaints.” Game held out his hands. “Was it something particular you were after? We were still shell-shocked from losing the guv. Didn’t help having to walk through that carpark every day, but you’ve got to get on with it.”

“Okay, moving on. What was said about Corina’s death?” Meredith asked as he opened the message which had come in from Patsy. He placed his phone face down.

“Nothing much. They knew the score because they were kept informed, not that there was much to inform them about. Sophie asked the most questions because they were flatmates too. Think it hit her hard. DCI Granville didn’t encourage speculation about it. Said something like, time to move forward, which was what Corina would have wanted. He does like a good cliché.” Game allowed himself a smile.

“How was Granville with Sophie? If he wanted everyone to move on, and she was still suffering, did he give her space, or were there clashes?” Meredith asked.

“No clashes that I saw, but the air was definitely cool between them. It’s better now, but I don’t think they like each other very much. If looks could kill and what have you.”

“And what about Fairweather’s death? I understand he was there to see Granville the day he died.”

“Not much once we got past the first hour. Condolences all round, how nice a bloke he was, such a shame. What you’d expect.”

“No one thought it odd?”

Game shook his head. “Not really. There was an investigation, misadventure, and I agree with that conclusion like…just about everyone else. He didn’t jump.”

“You think he was trying to get his lighter?” Kent asked.

“Doubt he was trying to get it, but yes, probably looked over to see what had happened to it and lost his balance. He wouldn’t have tried to climb down.” Game smiled. “He didn’t have the body for it.”

“You were satisfied with the outcome?” Meredith asked.

“Yes. Why not?” Game inclined his head. “Are you suggesting it was foul play? That’s how it sounds.”

“Before I answer that, we were told Fairweather was onto something that day, which probably prompted the visit. Do you know what?”

Game shook his head. “No. Who told you that?”

“Does it matter? And, no, you don’t know what, or, no, he wasn’t?” Meredith asked. “For clarity.”

“No, I don’t know what. But something was bothering him. How it usually worked was, he thought about it, paced up and down, then either made an announcement or ran his theory past us. He was very inclusive. Liked to hear as many opinions as possible.”

“But not on his last day?”

“No. Just said, ‘I’m going out for a couple of hours’ and went. We assumed he was gathering info and all would be revealed. It never happened. What’s your theory?”

“Haven’t got one. Only found out about this minutes ago. Yours? Because it must have struck you as odd. Because it does me.”

“Honestly? It didn’t. I’m as certain as one can be that he didn’t jump, but I never even considered he was pushed, although I was more curious about it when they shelved Corina’s case. I wondered what it was he didn’t share. He was a sharer. Had he told us, the case might not have been shelved. If there was anything, of course. It was all speculation.”

“And as far as you know, everything was okay at home with him? He wouldn’t have been pacing because one of the kids was playing up, or the milkman was paying extra visits?”

Game laughed. “No way. Julie was a gem. They were joined at the hip. The boys were what put the spring in his step. Both bright, athletic, and decent young lads. The guv and Julie had booked flights to Vegas for a karate championship. They hadn’t told the boys because Josh hadn’t even qualified for his place. If, and it really was more, when, he won that was to be his reward. If by any chance he didn’t, a holiday was his consolation prize for doing his best. The qualifier was the weekend after he died. He didn’t jump. He had no trouble at home.”

“Okay, accepted. So something troubling him took him to Corina’s station, and he never came back. We’ll all have to have a think about that. Moving on, did he think Corina’s death was foul play?”

“Not as such. A couple of weeks before, my mum was down there, minding her own business, strolling along the harbour, and stepped into the path of a lad on an electric scooter she didn’t hear coming. He was going full pelt and knocked her off her feet. Broken wrist, chipped elbow, and a leg that looked like it had been skinned. Little bastard kept going. Never even stopped. My best guess, not the guv’s, was something similar could have happened to Corina. She had no known enemies, everyone rated her, and the weather was atrocious. The guv thought it was a good theory, but he wasn’t convinced because we couldn’t find anyone on a bike or scooter, but then depending on which way they went, they might not have been caught on CCTV.”

The furrow on Game’s brow was now permanent and Meredith knew he was thinking about Fairweather’s death being connected to Corina’s and neither being an accident.

“Anything else you think we should know that may not have made it to the closing report?” Meredith asked.

“No. We had nothing. A bloke with his hood up and a lot of rain. Even if the guv had had something else he wanted to check out, I can’t see it would have changed the outcome. Not unless it hadn’t come across our radar before.”

Meredith nodded, his lips pursed. “So, what did you find out about Corina’s personal life? I’ve read the notes, anything that didn’t make it in writing. Gossip, speculation?”

“No. She was a good officer, sister and friend. She didn’t have a boyfriend at the time that we could find, although it was suggested she had something going on with someone. None of her socials or calls showed anything to back that up. To be honest, we did comment that for a twenty-three-year-old, and a good-looking one at that, she led quite a boring life. We checked out the last bloke she had dated, but it was only two dates, months before, and anyway, he was away up north with his new girlfriend when Corina went missing.”

“So why did she apply for a transfer?” Meredith asked.

“She didn’t. You must have seen her file. There wasn’t any mention of an application,” Game replied.

“And no one mentioned it was something she was considering?”

“Not a soul. Who told you that, or was it removed from her file? If so, why? That could have been crucial. Do you think that’s what the guv found out?” Game rubbed his forehead, causing the furrows to undulate. “If that was the case, and you’re calling foul play, I’m guessing that’s why you have so many questions about DCI Granville and the team.”

Meredith didn’t answer the question. Instead, he relaxed back into his chair. “Tell me, how come you’re suddenly here today? I thought you were up to your eyes in new cases.”

“The boss wanted it over and done with, said something like if we got it out of the way this week we could get on with some re…work. And you didn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t think you asked one. So, DCI Granville doesn’t think this is real work?”

“That’s not what I said. Do you think a member of the team was involved in Corina’s death?”

“I don’t know. It’s a possibility. And real work is what you were going to say. Don’t worry, I won’t let on to Granville. You don’t need to mention it in your debrief.”

Game rolled his eyes. “You know about them?”

“I do.”

“Do you think that’s weird? I do. I mean…” Game fell silent, wondering whether he should speculate in front of Meredith.

“We’re all different, Game. I’d probably be the same. I wouldn’t particularly want to know, but the not knowing would irritate me. Don’t read too much into it. Okay, let’s wrap this up so you can get back to some proper work. Anything else I should know that I haven’t asked about?”

“No, sir. But if anything occurs to me, I’ll call it in.”

“I can’t ask more than that. Give DCI Granville my regards. You can tell him as much or as little about our meeting as you like. I won’t be sharing the who said what when I speak to him.”

Back upstairs. Meredith went straight to Linda’s desk and pulled up a chair next to her.

“I want you to make me a new whiteboard. Call it up.” Meredith turned his attention to his notebook.

“How did you get on with your homework, Skipper?” Linda asked, watching him jot notes, a blank screen ready in front of her.

“Didn’t get to it. My next job. Hush, a minute.” Meredith read through his bullet points, added a final one, and handed the pad to Linda. “Here you go. Get it up on the screen.”

“Will do. One by one, or all at once?” Linda asked.

“Let’s be dramatic. You’ll like that.” Meredith winked and got to his feet. “Okay, listen up. I’m guessing you’ve all seen Binner’s interview. Kent, start on it now. I got the headlines from Hodge. The rest of you watch Game’s interview, if you haven’t already. I’m going for a pee. When I get back, we’re going to summarise where we are, and what we haven’t yet done.”

“Like your homework, Skipper? And George isn’t back from wherever he might be.” Linda grinned.

“Exactly like that. I’ll bring George up to date when he gets here. Nice of you to worry about him, though.”

Chapter Sixteen

Meredith stood next to the screen. He waited until he had everyone’s attention.

“I hope everyone is up to date because I’m ready to speak. If you’re not, you can catch up later. This might all be obvious, but I need it on here, not in here.” Meredith moved his finger from the screen to tap the side of his head. “Because if we are looking close to home, as our pen pal suggested, everything is pointing at DCI Robert Granville being very much involved somehow, and he may well be. But there is no evidence to suggest that, only bits and pieces of information, telling us he’s unfaithful to his wife, has a temper and is arrogant. That doesn’t make him a killer. And I also know it’s only been a week, but nothing is gelling properly. And Fairweather’s death is clouding the issue. If it was as obvious as it appears and Granville was involved in either death, someone would have worked it out. Maybe that’s what happened with our pen pal. Who knows? Certainly not us. We are in danger of missing something or not asking the right questions of the right people, because I’m certainly getting tunnel vision. I’m going to run through what I feel we need to do, and sometimes why. Bear with me. When I’m done, you can ask questions or make suggestions. That includes you, Loopy. I don’t want to be distracted by that hand popping up and down. Are you ready?”

“Skipper!”

“Let’s get going then.”

The first bullet point, along with a list of names, came up on the screen.

INTERVIEWS

Bradley Canter

Steve Knight

Joe Brown

Tamsin Burton

David English

“These are the people we still need to interview. English is in this afternoon. Before he arrives, I want a list of questions that we need to ask of all these, even if we don’t think they will be able to answer them. Loopy, hand down! Such as, was it common knowledge that Granville was having an affair with Sophie? Do they think Corina did? What was going on in Corina’s love life? We know she had a few dates. Who were they? Did anyone speak to them? Should we? Perhaps one of those was miffed at being dumped because he wasn’t Mr Right. Did Fairweather know about them? And so on. Loopy, next.”

TIMELINE

“I want a timeline put together from when Corina joined Granville’s team right until Fairweather died. We don’t know most of the dates, we’re just accepting they happened. I want details. When was the affair with Sophie? When did Corina find out? When was Corina’s last boyfriend dispatched? When did Corina say she wanted a transfer? Had she told anyone other than Brendon Cook? What date was Granville’s get-together? Etcetera, etcetera. French’s notebook should help with some of that. Right through to who was spoken to and when regarding Corina’s death. From here on in, every time someone mentions something, as near as damn it, I want the when nailed down and we add it to the timeline. You can even colour code it, Loopy. You’ll like that. Next.”

EVIDENCE

Phone records

Notebooks

Diaries

Socials

“I want those notebooks from both teams, which, if nothing else, will help with the timeline. I also want diaries. Corina’s, if she had one, Granville’s, Fairweather’s. We also need phone records on all three. I want them cross-referenced for the same numbers, and any queries raised to be investigated. For instance, we don’t know who Fairweather spoke to in the twenty-four hours before his death. No, expand that to the week before. We find out, we log it. I want the socials for Corina and all her team gone through with a fine-tooth comb. I understand coppers use aliases to avoid the public, find them, and get key events added to the timeline. Weddings, funerals, birthdays. It might help them remember other dates if we can ask, was that before or after the wedding, etcetera. Next.”

“Skipper, can I—“

“Nope. I’m nearly finished. Yes, I know we would have done all this in time and I know some of it has been covered, but before I have the next conversation with DCI Granville, I want Corina and Fairweather’s final timeline. I know you all think I’m a bull at a gate, but I’m not totally stupid and a man’s reputation, perhaps his career, is at stake. I don’t mind making him uncomfortable, but most people believe there’s no smoke without fire. We won’t create smoke without good reason. It might not be him and by focusing too hard on him, we might miss something about someone else. A comprehensive timeline might reveal who else it is we should look at, and then the same applies. Next.”

REPEAT

“When we’ve done all this and spoken to our remaining witnesses and any others who might pop up, we speak to everyone again. Ask questions we missed the first time around, get corroboration on our timeline where it’s needed. Next.”

PEN PAL?

“While we’re doing all this, we need to work out who the pen pal is. If we can find them, we will take a huge step forward to solving this. We’ll know why they wrote to Carrington. I’m leaning towards the notes being genuine, not a trouble-making exercise. I think there is something to be solved. This isn’t a wasted effort. Two police officers are dead. We’re going to find out why. Now questions. Loopy, you can kick us off.”

“You covered it. So, you can tell me I told you so. But on the questions thing, we need to ask Sophie what she was arguing about with Corina in the lift. And find out why DCI Granville felt it necessary to give Corina a hard time”

Meredith winked at Linda. “Consider it said, and we do. Okay, to save us doubling up on stuff, set some documents up so everyone can access them. We’ll have a list of general questions, and one for individuals with questions only they can answer. Also, just one timeline on a spreadsheet in columns. Start with the date Corina joined the team, and go about a week after Fairweather’s death, have a column for everyone we speak to, or the investigating team did, and, of course, a column for Corina. Fill in anything we already know, like the date Corina told someone she didn’t like married men. And then give access to all.” Meredith looked around the team. “Anything else?”

“I’ve got some questions we need to put to Rich French following the other interviews, such as did he know about Sophie and Granville, but I’ll put them on the central document,” Patsy said.

“Good. You can be in charge of collating the questions everyone gets asked. Anymore immediately?…Good. After English this afternoon, who have we got in next? Don’t tell me to look at the diary.” Meredith pointed at Linda.

“Tamsin Burton on Monday afternoon, Joe Brown and Bradley Canter on Wednesday morning, and Steve Knight on Thursday afternoon. And that’s it. We will have spoken to everyone on the original list.”

Meredith nodded. “Okay, plenty of time to work around everything.”

“What about George? Do we need to add whatever he’s working on?” Linda asked.

“Not at the moment. It might not be relevant. Now, I have my homework to do. The rest of you have a think, and Linda will let you know when you can start populating the documents.”

Trump held up a finger. “The only other thing you need to consider is that you’re going to need a warrant to get DCI Granville’s phone records and diaries if he doesn’t agree. Even then there’s still a chance he wouldn’t deliver. As he’s the one in the spotlight at the moment, they are crucial.”

“I had considered that, which is why I want full concentration on this between now and, say, Wednesday. I should be able to avoid him until then. Depending on how we do, I should be able to demonstrate the necessity by then. We can get the notebooks in the interim, can’t see how he could refuse that. But I doubt they’ll be winging their way in. In fact, ring them all as soon as we’re done here. Do Granville last and say we’ll pick them up on Monday morning. I wish it wasn’t bloody Friday or we could have done it tomorrow.”

Trump agreed, and Meredith walked to his desk. He had skimmed the notes from French the night before, but he now needed a detailed look.

The team set to work, and when he’d read through the notebook French had provided, making his own notes, he started again. After the second read through, he snapped the book shut and read through his notes. Slipping his notebook into his pocket, he pulled on his jacket.

“I’m going out. I’ll grab a sandwich on the way because I don’t know how long I’ll be. Trump and Hodge can interview English. If I miss George, tell him I’ll call him later. Yes, Loopy, what is it?”

“Is this an outing I can put in the diary, or one of your disappearing acts?”

Meredith rolled his eyes. “I’m going to camp out in the chief super’s office, then depending on how long that takes, I might go over to see Granville’s team, and I hope you’ll have spoken to them all regarding the notebooks by then. I’m only going there to repeat the urgency.”

“Then that’s what I’ll put in the diary, but I thought you wanted to avoid DCI Granville until next week, and you never volunteer to speak to Uncle David,” Linda replied.

“It’s not voluntary, it’s necessary. The super is out of Bristol next week. The iron is still hot. I’m striking.”

Linda opened her mouth to reply, but Meredith merely shook a finger and left the room.

Meredith ate his sandwich, listening to Ashworth’s assistant, Liz, field calls. Each time she gave his schedule to someone, she glanced at Meredith, and he smiled at her. Meredith had just bitten into his doughnut when the door to Ashworth’s office opened.

“Meredith, you have ten minutes.” Ashworth held up a finger. “Not now, Liz. Let me get Meredith out of the way.”

Meredith dropped the doughnut back into the bag and winked at Liz as he followed Ashworth back into his office. Ashworth stared at the bag Meredith dropped onto his desk.

“There’s one in there for you if you want it.” Meredith said as he sat in the chair Ashworth was pointing at. “I need some warrants. I might not have to use them, but they are needed, so I thought I’d pop in before you disappear.”

“For?” Ashworth asked.

“Telephone records and, in some cases, diary access. For both teams.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I? Why?”

“I doubt it. But you gave me the case. You knew I’d do it properly. It’s getting messy, and the only way to avoid more gossip than it’s already creating is to do a blanket grab now. Up front, right at the beginning, everyone included.”

“Explain.”

“Granville had an affair with Sophie Dawson. His wife knew about it, or about an affair. We assume it was the one with Sophie. Corina found out about it and didn’t approve. Corina and Granville butted heads regularly. It appears most of his team knew, or had guessed, something was going on. Yet, Granville discouraged personal relationships in the office. Sensible, present company excepted, but hypocritical. Corina told Brendon Cook she was applying for a transfer. I can tell by your expression that hadn’t been made formal. We’re building a timeline of her last movements and those of Fairweather. It will be from the time she joined that team to Fairweather’s demise. It won’t hurt, and it’s crucial we can see who spoke to who when. Who met with whom, when, and hopefully what happened next. I’d like that in my possession before people start to delete things. Possibly.”

“You think Corina’s death was intentional, and an officer was involved?” Ashworth asked.

“I think we all think that’s a possibility. My gut is telling me yes, but I have no evidence to support that. I’m going to ask for private diaries, too, because I already have one from DS French, voluntarily given, and it was useful. Some people don’t use them, I don’t, and some may but deny it. But I need to ask. Should anyone refuse, we’ll need a warrant.”

“Who are you expecting to refuse?”

“Granville for one, mainly because of Sophie Dawson, but who knows what else it might reveal? Not necessarily related to Corina, but he might have other secrets he wants to keep. Not necessarily criminal, he might simply not want another team digging around in his personal life.”

“Tell me, Meredith, if this had happened to you before your marriage, how would you have reacted?”

“I’d like to think I’d have led by example and handed over the goods without a fuss, despite my busy social life.”

“Can you do things without making a fuss? I must have been on holiday that week?” Ashworth smirked. “That or you’d have been showing off. How certain are you this is necessary and you’re not just making a point?”

“Very, and I have no point to make. Look, sir, I don’t know what you think I might be up to, but—“

“DCI Granville has a similar temperament to you. He also has a similar history. Have you rubbed each other up the wrong way? I hope this isn’t let’s see who has the biggest nonsense. I—“

“I’m offended you think I’d ask for this if it wasn’t necessary. I believe it is. And, believe it or not, I’m doing this to protect Granville’s reputation, as I know he might not be involved, despite the way things are looking. But someone in that team is involved, if only our pen pal. Should I speak to Chief Constable Carrington? Would that be easier?”

Meredith was becoming irritated. He had no real opinion on Granville one way or the other. Any thoughts he had were becoming clouded by other people’s opinions. He knew that the way things were going, Granville would, at the very least, be regarded suspiciously, however innocent he might be. “Look at it this way. If we get this from everyone, no one person is under suspicion, and we get a more accurate account of Corina’s life. I suppose the bottom line, as always is, if you have nothing to hide, what’s the problem?” Meredith pulled the bag forward and retrieved his doughnut. He offered the bag to Ashworth, who shook his head.

“Wait outside. Don’t disappear.” Ashworth pointed at the door.

“I won’t drip jam on your desk, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Meredith joked.

“Meredith, get out.”

Meredith went out and joined Liz in the reception area.

“I hope you haven’t upset him again,” she commented, as he sat down.

“Me? As if.”

It was almost thirty minutes before the door opened again.

“Stay there. They’re being sorted. Liz, bring those files in.”

Another hour passed and Meredith kept himself occupied by scrolling through the updates on their system. Between them, Linda and Daisy had created everything he had requested and had been the principal contributors to the timeline. Things were taking shape.

Ashworth’s door opened, and Liz jerked her head. “Chief Superintendent Ashworth will see you now.”

Meredith nodded and found Ashworth sitting, his elbows on the desk, and fingers steepled. He looked at Meredith over his glasses.

“Don’t sit down, you’re not stopping. You can pick the warrants up at the magistrates’ court. They’re expecting you. Tread carefully, Meredith.”

“Always do, sir. Have a good weekend.”

The court was short-staffed, and Meredith joined the queue to see the clerk. He collected the warrants and headed for Granville’s office. It would be gone five by the time he got there. He called Trump from the car.

“Uncle David says hello, and I’ve just picked up the necessary warrants. I’m on my way to Granville’s now. You’ll be there at ten on Monday morning to pick up the necessary. Get Daisy to access both teams’ system diaries before I get there and do whatever needs to be done in case anything is deleted. While she’s doing that, ask her if she can work out who, since Corina’s death, has accessed them and why, and let’s get the request in for the phone records. I’d like that underway before I break the news. Once that’s done, tell that lot to go home. Eight o’clock start on Monday. If Hodge wants to wait for me there, tell her to message me, otherwise she can get a lift home, and I’ll see her there. How did it go with English?”

“Interesting, but not earth shattering. Do you want to know now?” Trump asked.

“Nope. I’ll look at it later. I’m almost there, but I’m not intending to do anything other than to ensure they know it’s not voluntary,” Meredith replied.

“Understood. I was going to say have a good weekend, which I hope you do, but you will call if anything happens, won’t you? I’d rather hear it from you than from Uncle David.”

“I take offence that you think anything would. I’m hanging up now, Trump.” Meredith smiled as he ended the call. He intended a whirlwind visit but understood why Trump was concerned.

Meredith pulled back his shoulders and, pushing open the door, walked in. His arrival went unnoticed for a moment, then Game spotted him and called a hesitant greeting.

“Afternoon, DCI Meredith.”

The bustle of work stilled, and everyone turned to look at him. Meredith glanced into Granville’s office and raised a hand in greeting to Granville, who was on the phone, before turning back to the team.

“I know you’ve already been contacted, but I was in the area so thought I’d pop in to ensure there were no misunderstandings. On Monday morning, DS Trump will arrive with a large box and expect to collect everyone’s notebooks. For clarification, for members of her team that’s from the first day Corina started in this department to the week she died. For those investigating her death, from the day you opened the case to the month after. I can see you’re surprised, but I assure you it’s necessary as we want a detailed timeline of events for Corina. If any of you keep diaries, other than the system ones, they will also be required. Corina’s death is as likely to be connected to her social life as her work life.”

Meredith was aware Granville’s call had ended, and he was now standing in the doorway to his office. He ignored him. “So if you kept a note of social events that Corina attended, even if it was just around the corner for a pizza or a pint, we need to know. Ninety-nine percent of it will be useless to us, but it will build a picture, and who knows that one percent might reveal what really happened to her. We will also require access to phone records of Corina’s team.” Meredith paused as the officers before him shifted in their chairs and exchanged glances.

“To what end?” Granville asked, leaning on his doorframe and crossing his arms.

“Not sure how much you caught, Bob. We’re putting together a detailed timeline. Most we can pick up from notebooks and diaries, but that won’t give us a full picture. Even having calls to and from Corina won’t necessarily solve this, but it will help.” Meredith smiled. “I’m sure none of you will object and will understand that we are looking for patterns and or actions out of the ordinary. We don’t care if you call your granny at six every night or wait until the other half has gone to bed before you call a sex line. We only need data relevant to Corina.”

“So you believe Corina was murdered?” Granville asked.

“Not quite, but I’m getting there,” Meredith replied. “As the chief super said earlier, it’s not looking promising, so why wouldn’t anyone cooperate? I’m sure at least one of you might think you have a reason to withhold, but when this is all done and dusted, you’re welcome to come over and see what we did with your data. Anything not required for any resultant court case will be returned or destroyed. Has anyone got any concerns they’d like to raise?”

Everyone remained silent, and Granville coughed. “I think they need time to consider this, don’t you? Perhaps ask again on Monday?”

“Sorry, I hadn’t quite finished. There is no consideration involved.” Meredith held up the envelope. “I have warrants for all that I’ve asked to see. This is a courtesy call, and yes, confirmation that your full cooperation is obligatory. I’ll leave them with DCI Granville if you’d like to check them. Oh, and one last thing before I leave you to enjoy your weekend, some additional queries have already come up, so we will need to see some of you again. But that won’t be until the end of next week. That’s it. Thanks for your time. Bob, I’ll leave these with you.”

Meredith walked forward, the envelope held out, but Granville ignored it and with a jerk of his head, stepped back into his office.

“A word, if I may.”

Meredith nodded and followed him in. Once behind his desk, Granville held out his hand. Taking the envelope, he dropped onto his chair, and slid out the contents, leafing through them as Meredith leaned against a filing cabinet.

“Take a seat, Meredith.”

“Haven’t got time. Somewhere I need to be.” Meredith smiled, although Granville hadn’t looked at him as he leafed through the documents.

Granville thumped the warrant with his name on it. “Me too? Seriously? Ashworth approved this?”

Meredith shrugged. “The length of time he had me sitting outside with Liz, I’m guessing Carrington was involved. Look, mate, we just want to find out what happened to Corina. This will help. Don’t take it personally.”

“Don’t take it fucking personally? Is that what you just said? And you can drop the mate, pal. I hear you’ve been poking around in my private life, which had fuck all to do with Corina, and now you think my telephone records will help you? Let me tell you—“

Meredith stepped forward and stood in front of Granville. He kept his voice low. “You have an audience. It’s no skin off my nose, but you might want to lower your voice. I’d also get some blinds for the glass. In the old days, mine were up and down like a dog’s hind leg. Look, I have got to shoot but give me a couple of hours to get finished, then give me a call and we’ll arrange to meet. Without the audience.” Meredith looked out at Granville’s team and shook his head at Sophie, who, unlike the others, had not lowered her head. She grinned at him, causing Granville to emit a low growl as he saw the exchange. Meredith turned to look at him. “Is that acceptable?”

“Don’t know until I calm down. But very much on the record, my personal life is of no concern to you. I didn’t kill Corina. I don’t think Fairweather’s death was foul play, but if you and team magic say it was, it must be, and I didn’t kill him either. When I’ve decided I might call you. Maybe. Now, if you don’t mind, you can fuck off.”

Meredith saluted. “With pleasure.”

Chapter Seventeen

Patsy placed the bowls on the counter next to the hob. “So, the interview with David English was pretty useless. He was on a two-week holiday when Corina went missing and had only been involved for the final week or so before Fairweather died. The only thing he said which was newsworthy was also cryptic. But the telephone records might shed some light on it.”

Patsy held out a bowl and Meredith ladled the stir-fry into it.

“Keep talking,” Meredith instructed, overloading the second bowl.

“Two days before Fairweather’s death, he was arguing with someone. He only caught the tail end, but Fairweather ended the call by saying, ‘I understand your point of view and I’ve heard your concerns, but I would be negligent if I didn’t follow it through. It has to be done.’ Or words to that effect. Unlike French, English didn’t write it down. Blimey, they sound like a school curriculum. English then asked what was going on, and Fairweather said nothing to worry about. He only remembered it because he knew we wanted notebooks, and he checked through them before he came in, and has left them with us. He’d written, ‘follow up with the DCI’, and that reminded him. And that’s it.” Patsy forked food into her mouth. “This is delicious.”

“Of course it is. I made it. Although, this isn’t enough to satisfy a hungry man. What time, date, mobile or landline?” Meredith asked.

“Two days before, so the seventeenth of November. The best he could do with time was after eleven and before two. He had an interview at two fifteen and had arrived back at the office at eleven. So it narrows it down. He didn’t know if it was a landline or mobile because he had his back to Fairweather until he asked the question.”

“Let’s hope it was his mobile, or will their system break it down to extensions? If it does, do we know which one?” Meredith asked.

“I don’t have the answer to any of that. I’ll find out on Monday. Everything else is on the timeline, which is beginning to take shape, but of no particular use at present. Tell me more about Granville. It sounds to me like you’re…I don’t know…beginning to feel sorry for him. Or maybe you don’t think he’s involved. Which is it?”

“Neither. Personally, I don’t mind being the subject of gossip, I’m used to it. My temper is related to things that matter. I don’t take a scattergun approach. It’s targeted. I don’t think Granville’s is. If we push the wrong buttons, other people will come into his firing line, and that might make them hesitant about being honest with us. Particularly if they don’t think whatever they know is important.”

“Do you think he’ll call you?” Patsy asked.

“I hope not. I’d like that timeline to hand, but if he does, I’ll hear him out. My money is on him not calling. Now, it’s time for you to keep your end of the bargain. You promised to rustle up something sweet. Hopefully, with a few more calories than the wonderful stir-fry you demanded, and I lovingly prepared. Especially if you are insisting on going to the gym at the weekend.”

“We don’t have to go at the crack of dawn. When I spoke to Tom, I told him we’d be there around midday. I’ve been online and booked Jared. So we can get up late, have breakfast, gym, shower, Tom, lunch, relax.”

“Fabulous. I can’t wait. I’ll be in the living room. Where’s your tablet?”

“In my bag. I take it we haven’t finished work.”

Meredith left Patsy in the kitchen, collected her tablet from the hall and settled himself on the couch. He opened the files on the death of Jamie Fairweather. He looked up as Patsy entered the room ten minutes later. “If Fairweather was pushed, it wasn’t by Granville. Granville’s assessment of Fairweather going down as he was coming up was correct. First time I’ve checked. Look at this. This is the CCTV footage from reception.”

Placing the bowl she was holding on the table, Patsy sat next to him, resting her head on his arm as he started the clip and gave a running commentary.

“Fairweather enters the station at ten twenty-two. Duty officer buzzes him in. Three people come into reception. And at ten forty, French leaves the station. The three people leave reception pretty miffed by the look of it, and a young couple come in. At ten fifty, Granville comes in and at ten fifty-one…” Meredith handed the tablet to Patsy. The young couple were signing paperwork when the door opened and a distraught man shouted, ‘Someone just fell off the roof’. The young woman’s hands covered her mouth, as a uniformed officer appeared behind the first man and shouted to the duty officer that he’d called an ambulance and needed help to secure the carpark. “So, unless Granville travels at almost the speed of light, he would have been going up the stairs as Fairweather fell from the scaffolding.”

“What other CCTV is there?” Patsy asked.

“Just one section. This is the corridor that leads off the main staircase.” Meredith clicked the button. The image was of a long corridor. “You can see the gents’ toilet to the left, the ladies’ further down to the right, and a fire escape leading to the scaffolding platform at the very end. At ten thirty-nine, Fairweather appears and goes into the gents’. He leaves at ten forty-one, looks both ways and heads for the fire escape, leaving the door slightly ajar. Let me speed it up a bit. Watch, in the twelve minutes before his death, only one female officer enters that corridor. She goes into the ladies’ and then leaves five minutes later. No one else went down that corridor and through that door.” Meredith sighed. “We need to check out the extent of the scaffolding platform and make sure no one else could have accessed it via another route. Someone may have pushed him, and now we know it wasn’t Granville. We need to establish if that was even possible. That may have been the only access to the scaffolding on that level. But not until we have our timeline. We deal with Corina Jones first.”

“You were right to protect Granville,” Patsy said.

Meredith switched off the tablet and placed it on the table, lifting the bowl Patsy had brought in.

“I’m not protecting him. Just being sensible. What is this? Banana and custard? I haven’t had that since I was a boy.”

“Needs must. It’s the best I could do. Fruit, which is good for you, and tinned custard rammed full of calories, not so good for you. Shall we stop talking about work and watch a film?”

“If we must. Nothing with any of your fancy men in, let’s have something with a story.”

“A Disney film?”

“Behave, Hodge. Or I shall take control of the remote.”

By the time they arrived at the gym the next morning, Patsy had given in to Meredith’s complaining, and agreed on only doing a half-hour workout, followed by a swim and the steam room. Meredith groaned with pleasure as he lay out on a bench in the steam room.

“Finally. Relaxation. Just what one should expect at the weekend.”

“You didn’t get up until gone nine and had a hearty breakfast. We’re going to have to see Tom and Sue next and have lunch afterwards. They’ve got enough on without us turning up late,” Patsy told him. “I hope Sue doesn’t mind us going round.”

“She said she wanted to see you, because she was worried about you but hadn’t wanted to add her troubles to what you were already dealing with.”

“Bless her. We’ll stop on the way and buy some flowers. Do you think Tom will want an update?”

“Possibly, but he’s been looking at the files remotely,” Meredith replied.

“How do you know that?”

“Because Loopy told me they’d been spying on us while we were in New Zealand. She said she knew we’d be back because we kept opening the files. She showed me how to check. Then she told me Tom was too and asked if that was a good thing. I didn’t know how to answer that. Is it, do you think?” Meredith asked.

“On balance, I’d say yes. He’s used to working endless days that interfere with family life. Now he hasn’t got that. Perhaps he just needs the stimulation to keep the grey cells lively. My hands are prune-like. I think I’m going to shower and buy you a coffee before we head over there.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll stay here for another ten minutes. You take so long getting yourself sorted.”

As a red-faced Meredith headed for the changing room twenty minutes later, Sophie Dawson entered the pool area. He guessed by the double take that she’d recognised him, but not wanting to get into conversation, he pretended he hadn’t seen her. She, however, made a beeline for him.

“DCI Meredith, how’s the investigation going?”

“As well as can be expected. It’s still early days. Be better once we get the timeline done. We’ll need to speak to you about that in more detail once we get it populated. You knew Corina better than anyone, so we’ll be in touch to firm up on the specifics, I’m sure. Now, if you’ll excuse me, the wife is waiting. I’d better get my skates on.” Meredith stepped towards the changing room door, and she put her hand on his arm, leaving it there as she spoke to him.

“He has two phones, you know. Bob does. Had to get one when Fran got suspicious. He keeps it in his car. I wasn’t sure if you knew or not.”

“I haven’t spoken to him about it, but I’ll check. I’m sure you can let me have the number.”

“Of course. I haven’t got it with me.” Sophie held out her arms and looked down at her body. “Nowhere to put it in a bikini.”

“You’ve got my number. You can text me. Now, I really must go.”

“Oh, I think I have your number. Will do.” Sophie grinned and walked to the edge of the pool and dived in. Meredith had gone by the time she’d resurfaced.

Meredith omitted the mild flirting as he updated Patsy. “And the only way to get the records is to let him know someone has told us about it. It will take him seconds to work out who. It will be interesting to see how he reacts.”

“It will. But she must know that. Perhaps she doesn’t care. Have you considered that she might be our pen pal?”

“I’ve considered them all. She’s just moved up a couple of places. We’re nearly there. Let’s agree there’s no talk of work unless Seaton brings it up.”

When they arrived at the Seatons’, his daughter Jane opened the door.

“Hello, Uncle Meredith, hi, Patsy. They said you were calling round. Dad’s up in the bathroom putting some handles in. Mum’s in the living room.” She waved a piece of paper at them. “I’m off to the shops. I might see you later.”

Meredith popped his head around the living room door. “Hello, Sue, how is it today?”

Sue Seaton smiled at him as she got to her feet. “Good. Come here.” She gave Meredith a hug. “Thank you.”

“Save any thanks for a couple of weeks’ time. It’s not been long enough for you to get fed up with him yet. I’ll pop up and see him. Make sure he’s not blowing anything up.”

Patsy laughed as Meredith headed upstairs. “I’m not convinced Meredith can even use a screwdriver, you know.”

“Then it will be the blind leading the blind. How are you, Patsy? Are you glad to be back?”

The two women fell into conversation about their struggles over the last year. Upstairs, Meredith was sitting on the side of the bath, Seaton on the toilet, discussing the case.

“I’ve got to be honest with you, Guv, it’s been impossible not to follow the case, but now I’ve got the bit between my teeth, I am going to take a fortnight off.”

“Seaton, you can take as long as you like. Nothing is more important than Sue,” Meredith replied.

“I know. You’ll get no argument from me about that. Weirdly, she seems a little better. She’s not dropped anything the last couple of days. Before we go down, tell me, what happened when you went to Granville’s office?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Linda put it in the diary. It said: Skipper, then CS Ashworth with loads of questions marks, then Granville with a string of exclamation marks. But there’s been no update on the system.”

Meredith gave a brief overview. “And something else you won’t know. I bumped into Sophie Dawson at the gym this morning. She told me Granville has a second phone his wife doesn’t know about, and indirectly that she’s not averse to mucking about with married men.”

“What? With Patsy there?”

“Patsy was in the changing room. I told her my wife was waiting and escaped.”

“Glad to hear it. Wide berth, Guv, wide berth.”

“I’m insulted you felt the need to tell me that.” Disappointed, Meredith shook his head.

“Told you what?” Patsy appeared in the doorway.

“That he has to make sure you don’t work too hard,” Seaton told her.

“Thanks for your concern, Tom. I’m fine. I’ll let him know if he steps out of line.” Patsy looked at Meredith.

“I’m sure you will.” Tom had a feeling Patsy had heard more than she was letting on. “Did you come up to see my handiwork?”

“No, to get Meredith’s phone. Sue wants to see the video of the twins. I hear you have news on that front. Congratulations, Granddad.”

“She told you. Jane won’t be happy. She didn’t want to let anyone know yet. But thanks, I’m made up, as is Sue.”

Meredith pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to Patsy as he stood up. “That’s brilliant news. Nothing like it, mate. Better than having your own kids because you can give them back and escape.” Meredith shook Seaton’s hand and slapped his shoulder.

“It’s why Sue told you, I expect. She’s hoping she won’t be too bad for cuddles by the time it arrives.” He shrugged, the edge taken off his happiness.

“On which note, Sue said she’s feeling stir crazy and has suggested we might all go for a meal tonight,” Patsy told them.

“What? Really? Blimey, that’s a first. We usually have to carry her out of the house if it’s not a doctor’s appointment. She doesn’t want to risk embarrassment by tripping or dropping something. Please tell me you said yes.” Seaton looked from one to the other. “I could do with a night out myself.”

“In which case, how could we refuse? That okay with you, Hodge?”

“Of course, I’ll go and sort it out and leave you two to carry on talking shop.” Patsy headed back downstairs.

“She heard, didn’t she?” Meredith rubbed his brow.

“I reckon. But she also heard that you were insulted about me telling you to avoid her. Crisis averted, I reckon. Get someone else to deal with her next time. I could murder a cup of tea. Do you fancy one?”

“You’re changing the subject.” Meredith smiled.

“I am. Come on.”

Meredith followed Seaton downstairs.

“Do you girls—“

He almost bumped into Seaton as he suddenly stopped mid-sentence in the doorway when Patsy held up her hand.

“I’ll have to speak to Meredith. We’re out at the moment, busy day, and out again later this evening. Ah, he’s here. I’ll ask him…you’re on speaker phone now. He can hear you.” Patsy held the phone at arm’s length.

“Meredith. We need to talk. Sooner rather than later. I understand you’re busy today. I’m happy to come to you.” Granville’s voice filled the room.

Meredith walked into the room and perched on the arm of a chair. “We do, Bob, yes. I’m sure Hodge has told you we’re about to grab a late lunch and then we have shopping to do, and we’re out this evening. I’m afraid it will have to be Monday.” There was no way Meredith was giving up his lazy Sunday.

“Where are you having lunch? I’ll meet you there. I’ve been golfing this morning, and I could do with something to eat.”

Meredith looked at Patsy as he rolled his eyes, and she nodded.

“I haven’t been told. I’ll leave you to make the arrangements with Hodge. And, word of warning, I don’t like indigestion, so I hope there won’t be more shouting, and I’ll be on the clock.”

“Thank you. Where would you suggest we meet, Patsy?” Granville asked.

“Well, we’re near Westbury Village at the moment. Do you know it?” Patsy asked.

“I do. I’m not far from there. You tell me where and when.”

Patsy looked at her watch. “What about the Grupo Lounge, or Number Seven in thirty minutes?”

“Number Seven, it’s quieter than Grupo. See you there at half past. Looking forward to seeing you, Patsy.”

Patsy hung up and looked at Meredith. “You don’t look happy.”

“I’m not. I have no timeline yet, but I do want to see his face when he realises his secret phone isn’t so secret.” Meredith turned to Tom. “Better not stay for that tea. Sorry, Sue. This will be a flying visit.”

“Don’t apologise. I’m seeing you later. Even though I know Tom will want to question you about your meeting. He’s doing well, so far, although I’ll bet you were talking about work upstairs.”

“Guilty as charged. Hodge, if you’re ready, we can get our order in before he gets there. That way I’m guaranteed to get something to eat before he gets wound up.”

Granville walked into the kitchen and looked at the sandwiches his wife had prepared.

“I’m sorry, I have to go out. I’ll have those for supper.”

Fran Granville nodded. “Why aren’t I surprised?” Pulling open a drawer, she lifted out a roll of cling film. “Not to worry, I have some shopping I need to do. Is there anything you want while I’m out?”

“That was a surprising response. No, thank you. I thought you went shopping yesterday?”

Fran put the wrapped plates in the fridge. “I did, but I forgot some bits for the roast tomorrow. “Might as well do that as eat alone.” She walked past Granville and headed for the stairs. “I’ll change these trousers, though. Wouldn’t want to be seen in public dressed like this, and my hair’s a sight. I’ll put it up.”

A few minutes later, Fran called goodbye, and the front door slammed. Granville watched her drive off.

Granville glanced at the door as he laced his shoes. That had been easy. No questions about why, where, and who with. Fran must have something on her mind, whatever it was, it wasn’t the nightmare he was living.

“What do you think he wants to talk to you about? Just the phone records?” Patsy asked and moved her teacup so the waiter could place her plate down. “Thank you.”

“Don’t know now. I would have said yes, but if he’s got a phone for his extracurricular activities, I’m not sure. And good shout, this omelette is good. Don’t look now, but he’s just walked in.” Meredith forked more food into his mouth and nodded at Granville, who waved as he walked to the counter. When Granville arrived at the table, Meredith pointed to a vacant chair. “Take a seat. Sorry we didn’t wait, but as I said, we’re on a mission today. So what can I do for you?”

“No problem. Straight for the jugular, then? I think you know, but if you need me to spell it out, I’m here for two reasons, mainly to ask you both for your discretion.” Granville’s eyes moved to look at Patsy. “And your team’s, of course. And to ask what’s happened for you to get the warrants. I understand that yesterday was neither the time nor the place. Apologies for the bout of temper.”

“No apologies needed. Understandable, I suppose. Discretion is guaranteed, unless it becomes necessary to divulge things.”

“Necessary, how?” Granville’s words were clipped.

Meredith frowned. “Necessary as in, it’s evidence for the case.”

Granville leaned forward, his knuckles white as he gripped the table. “I don’t know how many ways to say this. I did NOT kill Corina, or Fairweather, for that matter. Are you intentionally trying to wind me up? I’ve heard you can be an awkward bastard, but not for the fun of it. Does it amuse you?” Granville turned to look at Patsy. “Perhaps you could explain.”

Patsy placed her cutlery down. “I’ll do my best. We are as certain as we can be that Corina’s death was connected to her life and not random. That may be her love life or her work life. For us to find out who and why someone would want that, we have to build an accurate timeline. It’s coming along nicely but has too many gaps. Having a complete set of phone records from her team, and we hope information from her dates, although they’ve yet to be tracked down, will provide us with a fuller picture. You know how this works, and no disrespect intended, I’m surprised you’re asking. And—“

Granville smiled and held up a hand of apology as he interrupted her. “Because any calls from the team to Corina would also register on her records. Why do you need ours too? And, Patsy, what would they tell you? We call each other, it could be for work, social, or just for a moan. I can’t see how they will help.”

Patsy was nodding. “Because there are patterns. For instance, if you called Corina at, say, seven o’clock on a Sunday evening, did you call any of the others? Was there a case that needed urgent attention? In isolation, anything that happened on Cornia’s number means nothing. Looked at as a bigger picture, it could mean so much more.” Patsy glanced at Meredith, who understood the unasked question and he nodded. “Which means we’ll also be getting a warrant for your other phone.”

Granville opened his mouth to answer and snapped it shut as the waiter placed his food on the table. He grunted his thanks and waited for him to leave before raising a finger. His mouth snapped shut again as his wife placed her hand on his shoulder.

“I thought it was you. Why didn’t you say you were coming to the village? I could have given you a lift.” Fran held out her hand to Patsy. “Fran Granville. Sorry to interrupt, but I could murder a coffee.”

“Patsy Hodge. Nice to meet you. Join us. We’ve finished with the work stuff now.”

Meredith half lifted himself from his chair and shook her hand. “Meredith. Take a seat. We’re not stopping long as we have shopping to do. I’ll call the waiter.”

Fran took the chair next to her husband. “I did wonder what had him ignoring his lunch. I should have guessed it would be work.”

Granville raised his eyebrows but didn’t comment as the waiter approached. Granville ordered the coffee as he watched Meredith and Patsy prepare to leave. He hadn’t had his say, although what could he say?

“So, what’s so important to drag you all together on a Saturday after golf? Do you two work with Bob?” Fran asked.

“No. We’re from the CCRT. We’ve reopened the Corina Jones case. Just needed to tie up some details,” Meredith replied.

Fran’s hand flew to her chest. “I…Oh, gosh. Poor Corina, such a sweet young thing.” She glanced at her husband. “Bob didn’t say. Why are you reopening it? I thought it was an accident.”

Meredith got to his feet. “And it still might be. Early days. Now we really must dash. Nice to meet you, Fran, thanks for your help, Bob. No doubt we’ll speak next week.”

Goodbyes done, Patsy and Meredith headed for the car.

“Well, he has a type. Fran has to be as tall as Sophie. What did you think?” Meredith asked.

“Same as you. Judging by Fran’s reaction, and what Granville didn’t have time to say, something was going on with Corina too. We need to get those records. By the way, while I had your phone, Sophie sent through the number so we can get the warrant if he doesn’t cough up on Monday. She also left you a wink and told you to call her if needed.”

“It won’t be. Have you been eavesdropping?”

“No. I was just coming to ask for the phone. But it drops Sophie back down the list of pen pal possibles. Would she be so blatant if she was looking for justice?”

“Perhaps I’m irresistible.” Meredith grabbed Patsy’s hand. “It shouldn’t need saying, but I have no interest in anyone but you.”

Patsy smiled at him. “Don’t want to dent that ego, Meredith, but as irresistible as Granville, French and who knows who else, her interest does seem to be dependent on them wearing a wedding ring. You might only be there because you’re taken. Perhaps she doesn’t want to be settled. Weird, don’t you think?”

“Not really. I spent a misguided youth only seeing women who wanted nothing from me other than a bit of fun. Some people don’t want to be tied down. Now, of course, I’m delighted to have you as my padlock,” Meredith said, referring to their Paris trip when they had attached a padlock to the Pont des Arts Bridge.

“Glad to hear it. Think we should go home so you can show me how delighted.”

“With pleasure.” Meredith climbed in the car. “Last work-related question of the weekend,” he said, rolling his eyes as Patsy laughed. “Did he make a phone call to Corina at seven on a Sunday?”

“No. It was ten thirty on a Sunday night. I’m betting the others didn’t get one.”

“If that’s the case, and he had a second phone, why didn’t he use it?” Meredith asked.

“I don’t know. The plot thickens.”

Chapter Eighteen

Meredith concluded the briefing. “Granville has promised to send the records across as soon as they come in. He’s not happy. Be grateful you have me. I wouldn’t want to be in his line of fire today. I know it’s unnecessary, but I’ll say it anyway, the man may be at the bottom of your Christmas card list, he hasn’t even made mine, but cheating on your wife and messing about with one of your team does not make him a criminal. Do not lose sight of the bigger picture. We need evidence. We also need to find our pen pal. That would save us a lot of legwork.”

“Sophie Dawson has got to be a good shout, surely?” Will Kent asked.

Meredith began to answer, but Patsy spoke over him.

“I don’t think so. Possible but not probable. I think she has a different agenda. I think she’s trying to hurt Granville and reveal his secrets. It’s the why I’m not sure about. To embarrass him, maybe. To let his wife know the scale of his infidelity. Who knows? Perhaps she wants him back and thinks this might do it. But if she was our pen pal, why not just add a line to the letters? Ask Granville about his other phone would do it. I could be wrong, but Sophie Dawson didn’t strike me as the subtle type.” Patsy glanced at Meredith. “She’d be far more up front about what she wanted.”

“A sound theory, Hodge. But again, no one is ruled out without evidence. Loopy, remind me what we’ve received so far.”

“Full access to the team system diaries. Phone records in from Rich French and Joe Brown. The others should come in over the next day or so. Daisy has already started work on them, and I’m logging Rich’s diary. We’ve also got the notebooks from David English to go through. We’ll be busier once Louie gets back with whatever the others have brought in.”

“Okay, so a boring few days of inputting material. As we now have access to their system diaries, Hodge can make a start on Granville’s team, and Kent you can do Fairweather’s. George, go through the notebooks from English. I doubt there will be much in there. Trump, get over to Granville’s and call me if there’s any resistance. That’s it. Let’s get to it.”

The team fell silent as they worked through the information they already had and added to the timeline. Meredith looked at it now and then. So far, it wasn’t much help, but he was confident it would be useful. Trump returned with a box load of notebooks and reported he’d had no resistance or omissions. Granville hadn’t been there but had left his notebooks for collection. Meredith tasked Linda with working out how to distribute them for logging.

When Tamsin Burton arrived, he called across the office to Patsy, “Hodge, you can do this one. I’ll sit in.”

Tamsin Burton nodded continually as Patsy explained why they’d asked her to speak to them. It was clear she had something to say.

“Yes, I know. Harry called. He’s Corina’s brother, but you know that.” She hit her forehead with her palm. “Sorry, I’m so nervous, but excited and sad at the same time. Harry said for you to reopen the case, something must have come up, although you’re not sharing what. He now thinks Corina was most likely murdered, which accounts for the sad bit. It’s almost like losing her again, but if that’s the case, you’re the people to find out who killed her. I know it’s been a few days since you’ve seen him, but are you making progress?”

Although Meredith had told Patsy to take the lead, he smiled at her. “It’s moving along slowly. Why don’t you tell us what you want to get off your chest?”

“How do you…is it that obvious? When you called me, I was working away in Cornwall, that’s why I couldn’t come in last week, so I called Harry and he said…I won’t repeat that bit, so I’ve been overthinking everything about those last weeks before Corina died. When I spoke to the police originally, I think I said I thought she might be seeing someone, but I didn’t know who.” Tamsin held up a hand. “I still don’t, but I think it was someone at work. It had to be. About six weeks before, we’d gone for a run on the Saturday, and were due to go out for dinner that night. We went back to the flat as we always do, and Sophie was there. She was on a day off. I started to tell her about the restaurant, and Corina, who was standing behind her, did this,” Tamsin drew her index finger across her throat, “and shook her head, clearly knowing what I was going to say, so I didn’t invite her. When I left, I asked Corina if they’d fallen out. She said not yet, but don’t hold your breath. I then asked her probably too many questions, given Sophie was only in her bedroom, and she told me to shut up, she’d tell me later, and that it was complicated. You see?” Tamsin paused for breath.

“I think so. Why don’t you tell us what you thought,” Patsy replied.

“When a girl tells you something is complicated, one, there’s always, always got to be a man involved. Add that to she might fall out with Sophie, then it’s got to be about a man at work. It’s got to be, hasn’t it?”

Meredith cleared his throat. “Being a mere man, I almost get there was a man involved bit, but you lost me when you assumed that it had to be someone at work because Sophie was involved, and not that she was seeing Sophie’s ex or something similar. If I’m honest, without her saying so, how do you know it wasn’t because Sophie never took turns cleaning, or hadn’t paid her share of the rent?”

Tamsin’s eyes widened and she looked at Patsy for support, clearly unimpressed with Meredith’s grasp of the situation.

Patsy grinned. “You’ll have to explain it to him. But before you do, I’m assuming you didn’t go to dinner that night, you said you were due to go, and then tell us what the fallout was with Sophie.”

“Corina cried off. Said she’d been called into work, and we rearranged to see each other the following week. It was a brief conversation because she had to go. When I asked on the Wednesday, she said she’d been mistaken, and everything was cool. I tried to get more out of her, but she wasn’t having that conversation. Then the next time I saw Sophie, she asked what the restaurant had been like. I told her we hadn’t gone because Corina got called into work, and she laughs and says, ‘oh no she didn’t, but she went out’ and we decided she had a secret man. So…” Tamsin looked at Meredith, who shrugged. “So, why not tell us? It’s because of who it was. And if she didn’t want either of us to know, you have two choices. Don’t worry, I’ll spell it out. One, he’s married, discounted because Corina wouldn’t waste her time, not unless it was Ryan Gosling, and two, it’s someone Sophie knows, and Corina didn’t want her involved because it was awkward or embarrassing. Work. Now do you see?”

“I’m going to say yes, but if my team jumped to that many conclusions, we’d be having words. I’ll need to know what date that was. Will you be able to pin it down? And I don’t suppose either of you bothered asking where she’d gone?” Meredith replied.

“Of course we did. She said it was something and nothing and—“

Tamsin stopped speaking when there was a knock at the door. George handed Meredith a note. Meredith’s eyebrows rose as he smiled. He handed the note to Patsy, who responded in much the same way, but nodded at him.

Meredith smiled at Tamsin. “Something’s come up, I’m going to leave you with Patsy. Thank you for your help. We’ll do everything we can to get to the bottom of this. Hodge, we need dates.”

Meredith left them to it and walked with George to meet his unexpected visitor.

“How did he seem?” Meredith asked.

“Edgy. When I told him you were interviewing, he said this won’t wait and would it be easier if he came to find you? I wrote the note and said I’d ask. Thought he was going to follow me down here for a minute. He’s in the carpark.”

Meredith stopped walking. “The carpark? Do you think I’ll need you to hold my jacket?”

“All joking aside, if the look on his face was anything to go by, I wouldn’t be surprised. Do you want me to come out with you?” George nudged Meredith. “I’m almost hoping I’m needed.”

“I’ll tell you what. You stand inside and watch, then you can run out if it becomes necessary. You can run, can’t you?”

“I can certainly speed walk. Will that do you?”

“Back to work, George. I’m a big boy.” Meredith laughed.

“And he’s got the bit between his teeth.”

George pulled open the door and watched Meredith skip down the steps, his hand out.

“Bob, I wasn’t expecting you today. What’s so urgent I had to leave an interview?”

Granville stepped forward and took his hand, pulling Meredith a step closer. “Not sure where to start. Can we go somewhere else? I’m not doing this here.”

Meredith glanced over his shoulder at the building. “Do you mean the carpark or the station?”

“Both. Don’t care who drives or where we go.”

Granville was bouncing on the balls of his feet, and Meredith knew he had to keep him talking. Pulling his keys from his pocket, he pointed them at his car.

“Is alcohol required?” he asked as he opened the door.

“Not enough in the world, but we can give it a go.”

Meredith drove to a nearby pub. “They have a garden. I doubt it will be busy on a Monday afternoon. Will this do you?”

“Good a place as any.”

They walked into the bar.

“Do you want food?”

“Don’t think I could. I’ll have a pint of the real ale.”

They carried their drinks to the garden and chose the table in the corner. Other than an elderly couple with a spaniel, they were the only customers out there. Meredith wondered how to open the conversation, when Granville pulled off his jacket, removing an envelope from the inside pocket before laying the jacket carefully on the bench next to him. He slapped the envelope on the table and left his hand resting on it.

“It’s warm out here. Do you know what this is?” Granville asked.

Meredith glanced at the envelope. There was nothing written on it. He shrugged. “If I wanted to be amusing, I’d suggest a confession, but I’m guessing that would be incorrect.”

“Ha! So close, yet so far.” Granville drummed his fingers lightly on the envelope as he looked Meredith in the eye. “How good are you at your job? Has your clear-up rate been down to good police work, or are you one of the lucky bastards who always land on their feet?”

“Bit of both, but it’s not always the feet. I’ve got the scars to prove it. What’s in the envelope?”

“My resignation. But I realised if I hand this in I’ll look guilty, I’m not. I didn’t kill Corina, and I had nothing to do with Fairweather taking a dive. So, I need to know if you think Corina was murdered, and if you will catch the bastard. Sure, I can take retirement, but like you, I’m not ready yet. And it would seem like I was jumping before I was pushed. I don’t want that. I take it Sophie told you about the phone. Was it pillow talk?” Granville asked.

“So, it was the discovery of the phone that led to you writing that.” Meredith pointed at the envelope with his glass before taking a sip.

“Of course it fucking was. You didn’t answer my questions.”

“Then I shall. I think Corina was murdered, and I will do my best to bring whoever it was to justice. My team is good, the best. We’ll get the job done if it’s doable, and I know you didn’t kill Fairweather. I’m not bedding Dawson, because one, she’s a suspect and two, more importantly, I’m married. I—“

“Don’t give me that. I’ve asked around, I’ve heard the rumours, no, no. Not rumours I’ve heard the facts. I reckon you’ve had more women than I have. Wasn’t Patsy working for you? I can see the attraction. We are but human, so don’t judge me.”

“She was. But I wasn’t married. She left the force so it wouldn’t be complicated. Her decision, not mine. But we’re not here to talk about me. I know my shortcomings. I’ve moved on, grown up. But I’ll tell you what, I wouldn’t be resigning if all I did was get a leg over with a member of my team. However awkward that might have played out.”

“So you’re not sleeping with Sophie?” Granville asked.

“No, I’ve just said. Would it make it easier for you if I were? I’m not sure why it’s so important.”

Granville’s chin lowered. “Because I love her. I think. Who knows, perhaps it’s the wanting what you can’t have. Whatever it is, it’s driving me crazy. She drives me crazy. It’s madness. I envy you your happy ever after, Meredith, I truly mean that.”

Meredith was glad Granville was still staring into his lap as he rolled his eyes. He’d had no idea what this meeting was about, but he never for one moment thought it would be about unrequited love. Meredith wasn’t comfortable doing touchy-feely stuff with blokes, particularly blokes he didn’t know very well, so he remained silent.

Granville tilted his head to look at him. “Are you not going to laugh?”

“I haven’t heard anything funny yet. You could leave your wife. She must know you don’t love her. I take it Sophie called it a day because you wouldn’t.”

“That’s the fucking irony. I would. Sophie doesn’t want me. It was just a bit of fun to begin with, you know what it’s like. An unplanned liaison, which was good. Too good. Then a second, and before you know it, you’re having a full-blown affair. Then, one night, Corina is there having a drink with the team, Sophie was visiting her mum. We’re all tipsy, joining in the crack, having a laugh, eventually everyone leaves, and it’s just me and Corina. And I make a pass at her. I kiss her. She says no thanks. We’ve had too much to drink, and we go home. Separately. I swear on my kids’ lives, that’s all that happened. But then she finds out about Sophie. And she’s so mad. Seen nothing like it. She wasn’t offended on her own behalf, but Sophie’s.” Granville emptied his glass. “Another?”

“No. You carry on. I’ll finish this one slowly. I’m driving.”

Meredith watched Granville hurry down the slope to the bar and pulled out his own phone. He messaged Patsy and sipped his pint as he considered what he’d heard. When Granville returned, he asked his first question before Granville was seated.

“So, Corina finds out you’re…in a relationship with Sophie, and the shit hits the fan? Why was she so offended?”

“Why is this important to what happened to Corina?” Granville asked.

“I’m asking the questions. You don’t want to tell me?”

“It’s complicated.” Granville rubbed his hands over his face.

“Try me.”

“Corina tells Sophie she knows, she more than tells me she knows, she was a feisty bugger, all but punched me, and Sophie lets Corina talk her into ending it. I wasn’t happy. My reaction probably fuelled her anger.”

“Some might say she talked some sense into her. You were married. You didn’t offer what any normal woman would want. A weekend lover is not usually at the top of the list of wants. Particularly if your eye is still roving, and worse that it targeted her flatmate.”

Granville paused mid sip and lifted the glass away from his mouth. “Not true. Why did you use that phrase? Why weekend lover? Why not mistress?”

Meredith shrugged. “I heard it caused a bit of bother for you, probably stuck in my mind.”

“You heard? Don’t know why I’m surprised. That was Sophie rubbing it in. In the song she says it’s the best she can do. Sophie said she could do better. She’s probably right. Seems my team like talking about me.” Granville’s chest rose as he dragged in a breath. “I’ve fucked up big time, haven’t I? But I didn’t kill Corina.”

“So you keep saying. What are your phone records going to tell me?” Meredith asked.

“That I called Corina that night. Oh, shit.” Granville looked old when he looked directly at Meredith. Ten years older than he had a week ago when he’d strolled into Meredith’s office all full of bravado. “Can I trust you?”

“You can trust me to do the right thing. If you think that’s bringing Corina’s killer to justice, then yes, you can. If you think I might blur the lines on anything your secret phone might chuck at me, then no,” Meredith replied.

“Thank you, that’s all I ask. I called her that night. I met with her that night. Fuck, I even threatened her, probably caused the bruises on her arm, but I did not kill her. I did not fucking kill her.” Granville blinked rapidly. “But it will look like I did. The cops scanning the CCTV didn’t see me come or go, because it was too long before and too long afterwards, so I kept my mouth shut. No one knew about the phone, so I was in the clear. No reason to declare I was there because I didn’t do it. Now…now you do know about the phone, and it looks bad. If I were in your shoes, I’d be dancing a jig. So here I am, asking you, no, begging you if you like, to do a proper job. And even as I ask, I don’t know if you can after all this time. I don’t know if they kept the CCTV that will show me arriving about half an hour before, and leaving…I don’t know, probably half an hour, maybe even an hour later, by which time she was already dead.”

“If that’s true, you’re an idiot. Stupider than I can comprehend. Did it not occur to you to tell Fairweather? What’s the worst that could have happened? A few coppers sniggering at you? Had you told him, he would have expanded the search, he’d have confirmed your alibi. You must have realised that.”

“Of course I did. I almost told him several times. At one point, he asked me if I was holding back information. He saw I was on the verge of saying something but had changed my mind. I was being selfish. My wife hadn’t found out about Sophie. No one knew other than Corina. He didn’t know about the phone. If I spoke up, the relationship with Sophie would be public, the wife would find out, and what would I gain? An alibi for a crime I didn’t commit and wasn’t even suspected of committing. And now you come along, and Sophie gets talkative. It was Sophie, wasn’t it?”

Meredith ignored the question. “Are you still seeing her?”

“I wish. No, I am currently simply married. I am not having an affair.”

Meredith nodded. “But you would be given the chance?”

Granville shook his head. “No. Not since Sophie. I meant what I said about her. You want to know the truth? Even if Corina had responded differently, I’d like to think it would have been only a kiss. I can see from your face that you don’t believe me. But it’s what I tell myself.”

“I accept that you love Sophie, or think you do, but why prolong the agony by keeping her on your team? Why not move her on, or ask for a transfer yourself? Yes, you’d get kicked for being so stupid, but you’re both seasoned coppers with good records. They wouldn’t want to lose one of you. Or is there something else I don’t know? You might as well tell me. I’ll find out, anyway.”

“Two reasons. First, Fran. Before I got this job, I’d been inappropriate elsewhere. It was a fiasco. When we moved here, I promised it wouldn’t happen again. That was before I’d met Sophie. Fran told me if it happened again, I was on my own. No her, no kids, no home. Sophie was worth that risk. But add to that, Sophie’s demands once she’d dumped me. She told me she liked her job, and could put up with me, but if I ever tried to move her on she’d tell Fran everything. I offered to leave Fran, and she laughed in my face, told me too little too late. So there I was, then Corina died, and I felt I could do fuck all about any of it.”

“I don’t know Fran, she seemed like a nice lady, but if it’s over, other than the kids, who must be grown up, and the mortgage, why don’t you simply put her out of her misery? Why drag it out? It seems to me that your marriage is destined to fail. Why not give her the opportunity to meet someone else? That’s what a decent person would do.” Meredith thoughts were with Patsy. She’d done just that, thinking it was what was best for him. He wondered if he’d have done the same had the roles been reversed. He doubted it, so he softened his tone a little. “Who knows, you might meet someone else too?”

“Like I said, I’m a selfish bastard. I don’t hate Fran. She’s not a bad wife, and she’s a great mother. And let’s not forget, she’s put up with me this long, and she seems happy enough these days. I’m ashamed to say it, but if I can’t have Sophie, she’ll do.”

Meredith emptied his pint. “You’re right, you are a selfish bastard. So, you’ve got that off your chest, I’ll go away and check it out. If you’re telling the truth, you’ll be in the clear. I won’t cut corners, because if you didn’t do it, I’ll still want to catch who did. You can do with that, whatever your conscience tells you to.” Meredith tapped the envelope. “What were you wearing that night?”

“Jeans, a white shirt, and a green gilet.”

Meredith nodded. “I’ll be in touch.”

Meredith walked away, leaving Granville staring into his beer. He hadn’t offered him a lift back, and Granville hadn’t asked for one.

Linda looked at Patsy. “Tell me again what the skipper’s text said.”

Patsy tutted. “I’m having a drink with Granville. I might have to drink too much to drive to keep him talking. You might have to pick me up.”

“Hmm. Difficult one. What if he confesses, then withdraws that and then complains that the skipper got him drunk and put words into his mouth, or worse, made it up and forced him to sign a confession? Either way, drinking with DCI Granville isn’t wise.” Linda screamed as Meredith suddenly spoke.

“I had one pint. Don’t judge me.”

“Skipper, don’t do that. You’re like a ninja. I prefer it when you’re bellowing. What did he say?”

Meredith now had the attention of his team.

“He said he didn’t do it. Did we get anything useful from Tamsin Burton?”

Patsy shook her head. “Not really, although I agree with her. It was someone at work.”

“Possibly, but probably not in the way you think,” Meredith replied.

“But, Skipper, he sent the call records for his secret phone. They arrived here just before he did, and before you and he went off drinking. Do you know who he called that night?” Linda asked.

“Corina. He also met with her, and thinks he might be responsible for the bruising on her arm. But he claims he got there half an hour before her, so before she left her flat, and didn’t leave the bar until nearly an hour after she’d left, so well after her head hit that post and she went into the harbour. Tomorrow, we will all come in and you and Daisy will find out if he’s telling the truth. He was wearing jeans, a white shirt and a green gilet. The rest of us will carry on working the timeline, because if what he said was true, we still need it. If it’s not, we’ll know.”

“I’ll start right away.” Linda’s fingers danced on her keyboard.

“Stop. Just update the diary so Seaton will know, then pack up and we’ll have an early night. Tomorrow may be a long day, depending on what you find. I’m not answering any more questions, save them for tomorrow and I’ll give you a blow by blow. Hodge, get your coat.”

“I don’t have one. Have you seen the weather outside?”

“Then walk this way.” Meredith held his hand towards the door. “Eight sharp,” he called before allowing the door to close behind them.

Meredith told Patsy about the conversation as they drove home.

“I’ve been that man, in a different way, granted, but I still hurt people I shouldn’t have, and I know not always intentionally, but the fact of the matter is I did. My actions caused unnecessary hurt. But you know that, I’ve told you. As I listened to his explanations and excuses, I hated myself even more for not being better than him, and it was all I could do not to punch him for showing me how I’d failed.”

“Meredith, your mistakes, your misjudgements were a long time ago. The life you lived was different then, and certainly different to his. People make all sorts of poor decisions and mainly for the wrong reasons. But know this, Johnny Meredith, you’ve always been a good man, your intention was never to hurt, and you tried to right your wrongs.” Patsy reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Look at it this way, if you’d made different decisions, we would never have got together, and that would be wrong. We were meant to be, me and you, Johnny. Whatever you think about the past, you can’t change it. And look at all the good you’ve done, you saved me. And I could list all the other things that you should be proud of but you know what they are.”

Meredith didn’t answer, remaining silent. Patsy left him to his thoughts. He still hadn’t spoken when they reached home. He parked on the drive and opened the front door, waving his hand for Patsy to pass.

“Are you not going to speak?” she asked, kicking her shoes under the telephone table.

“Conversation is the last thing on my mind. Upstairs now.” Meredith slammed the door and pointed to the stairs.

“But you haven’t eaten. Are—“ Patsy grinned.

“Yet. I haven’t eaten…yet. You’re still talking, Hodge. Upstairs. Now.”

Chapter Nineteen

The team spent the next two days populating the various documents. Corina’s timeline was filling up, and until the last four weeks of her life, the patterns of events and calls were almost predictable. They had discovered the footage of Granville arriving at the bar as he’d said, but not of him leaving. If the original team had it, they hadn’t saved it and the chances of finding it after all this time were slim. At two thirty on Wednesday afternoon, Meredith called for silence.

“Listen up. We have Joe Brown in at three o’clock, and Bradley Canter at four. Stop whatever you’re doing and look at the timeline. What do we need to ask them? I’ll take Brown with Kent, and Trump, you and Hodge do Canter. Daisy, give them a selection of stills, he might be able to verify Granville’s movements. Yes, Kent?”

“Granville admitted meeting her, and he told you he probably caused the bruising on her arm. He didn’t say why he’d grabbed her, and to be quite honest, Guv, I’m finding it difficult to work out why you didn’t ask him. Everything is screaming that he’s involved. Calls at weird times, trying to pull her, her finding out about his affair with Sophie Dawson. He probably coughed up about the meeting because now he’s in our sights, he couldn’t rely on us not finding a witness who saw him grab her in the bar, which is why he’s admitted that bit. Why haven’t we pulled him in to apply a bit of pressure? Am I missing something?” Kent asked.

Meredith pursed his lips before answering. “Because he’s a DCI. When we get him back in here, we are going to know everything it is possible to know about all of it. I won’t speak to him again until we can put his back against the wall and take aim. Anything less, and we might miss. We can’t afford that. Because then he might walk and we would have made it possible for a man guilty of murder to carry on serving as a police officer. I’m not prepared to risk that. We keep digging. Actually, Loopy, start another timeline for Granville. Last three months of Corina’s life through to Fairweather’s death.”

“On it, Skipper,” Linda replied. “You think he did it, then?”

“I don’t know. No evidence. We have to find that evidence.”

“You don’t think he did it,” George announced. “I do, but I know you too well. Copper or not, you’d have had him in here daily if you thought he did it. What I can’t work out is why we’re now doing a timeline for him.”

“I don’t know how to answer that in a different way, George. So I’ll say it very slowly. I. Don’t. Know. If. It. Was. Him. But, and it’s a big but, he’s the only bugger we have anywhere near it, so we’ll plod on. Is that good enough for you?”

“It’ll have to be. I’ll look at what we’ve got before the interviews, shall I?” George winked at Meredith.

“If you could.”

Joe Brown sat opposite Meredith as Kent closed the door. He was as huge as described, and his short-sleeved shirt revealed one arm so heavily tattooed no bare skin was visible.

“Thanks for coming in, Joe. I won’t beat about the bush, as I know you had little to do with Corina on a daily basis, but we’ve discovered certain things which need explaining. I’m going to tell you where we are, then I’d like you to consider what I say, and then give me your thoughts.”

“Sounds intriguing. Corina was a lovely girl. I hope you’re not going to tell me anything horrible about her.” Joe’s huge hand pushed his fringe to one side. “I hope I can help, although I doubt it, but everyone is caught right up in this, and they’re getting distracted. I was called a nagger this morning, never been called that before.”

“Anyone in particular distracted?” Kent asked.

“All of them. I’ll probably join them once I’m done here.” Brown laughed. “I don’t know why I’m laughing. This is so far from being funny.”

“I think that’s probably true. Let’s see how you do. As you know, we’re building a detailed timeline of Corina’s life since she arrived in Bristol. For the first four months, it’s predictable. New job, new flat, work, the odd date, pizza, nightclub. Then she finds out that Sophie Dawson, her friend, her colleague, and her flatmate, has been having an affair with the boss. The same boss who also made a pass at her. She’s not happy, has a row with Sophie and later Granville. During this time there’s a party at said boss’s house, during which Sophie winds things up using the words of a song about a mistress, and Granville and his wife have a barney about his infidelity. I can tell you know some of this. How am I doing? Do you want to add anything?”

“I knew about Sophie and the boss. Because I’m always buried in the paperwork, they tend to forget about me until they need something, so I caught enough snippets of conversation to work it out. To be fair, I thought they did well hiding it. I also worked out Corina knew, although couldn’t work out why she was so upset. Didn’t realise the boss was stupid enough to go for Corina at the same time. Do you think he has a thing about tall women? Or was it the challenge?”

“I said the same about them all being tall. You didn’t hear the fallout with Corina then?” Meredith asked.

“No, and I didn’t know about the row at the party until afterwards. I saw Sophie’s performance. It was like watching a car crash. You wanted to close your eyes but had to see how bad it would get. I don’t think Fran knew, though. She rescued Sophie from the boss and was really kind to her. I don’t think anyone is that good an actress.”

“How did you find out about the row?”

“God, I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.” Joe screwed his eyes shut. “Still makes me cringe thinking about it.”

“I can see that. What happened?” Meredith asked.

“After the fireworks, and Fran calming the situation down, I thought we could do with a distraction, and when I’ve had a drink, I fancy myself as a bit of a crooner, I got the karaoke going. I was first up, and Soph was up next. She chose ‘I Will Survive’.” Joe rolled his eyes. “Dave, that’s my partner, had no idea about their affair ending, and without causing a fuss, I couldn’t do anything to stop it. Anyway, a few sing songs, me more than most, and then Corina wants to go home. Sophie refuses unless she does a duet with her first and they settled on ‘It Ain’t What You Do’. That needs three of you, says Dave, so he grabs hold of Fran and shoves a mike in her hand. It was bloody awful on every level. The boss actually walked away. Then Sophie says let’s do another one. Fran and Corina are objecting, and Dave puts on…” Joe clicked his fingers, trying to remember. “It’ll come to me, anyway it was a Supremes song and all about love, and none of them knew the words, and Corina didn’t even know the tune. It was horrendous. Dave stopped it halfway through and asked for suggestions, and Fran just pointed at him and said, ‘No’. Corina and Sophie left shortly after. ‘Stop in the Name of Love’, that was it. Brendon told me about the row between the boss and Fran on the Monday.”

Meredith raised his eyebrows. “What was the fallout?”

“None for the girls, that I know of, but I don’t know how the boss fared with Fran. But when Brendon told me about the row, I realised what we’d forced Fran into, I was mortified. She’s a nice lady. But Dave wasn’t to know. None of them knew. Other than parties involved, and of course me.”

“Do you think Granville had an affair with Corina?”

Joe was shaking his head. “No. I concur he would have jumped at the chance, but my instinct tells me she knew she could do better. She was young, pretty, vivacious. He was…I’m going to say approaching middle-age because I’m there myself now, and he’s married with two kids. He might be a fantastic lover, but you’d have to give it a go to find out, and I don’t see why she’d bother trying. She wasn’t stupid. Corina knew her attributes but chose not to use them. Not at work anyway.”

“You seem to have given this a lot of consideration,” Meredith observed.

“People watcher, and I did a psychology course when I was younger. I’d say Corina had many thoughts about the boss, and none of them were carnal. She was not alone,” Joe replied.

“You don’t like him?” Kent asked.

“We get on fine. He doesn’t mince his words, you know what he’s asking of you, and he gives praise where praise is due. He’s not top of my list to socialise with, but I’m not looking at the clock wondering when I can escape either.”

“Talking of which, did you know Corina wanted a transfer?” Meredith asked.

Joe shook his head, and his mouth opened a little. “No, I didn’t. Have I lost my touch on the people watching front?”

“Doubt it. Don’t think anyone did. Anything else you think we should know?” Meredith replied.

“No. Not concerning Corina’s death. I could bore you to death with my musings on the humans working in that building, but I doubt any of it is relevant to Corina.”

“Okay, I might come back to you on that. Let’s move on. Were you at work on the day DCI Fairweather died?”

“I was. I was with him minutes before. He was waiting for the boss and Brendon. But I’m sure you know that. I heard you were investigating that, too. Office gossip.”

“I’m not. Not officially, but it’s on my radar. When an officer dies in the way Fairweather did, it raises questions.” Meredith’s shoulders twitched. “Instinct tells me it wasn’t suicide. Many of those who knew him tell me he knew his limitations in clambering about on scaffolding. I’m interested. Did you speak to him?”

“No. French did. I nodded a greeting. I was on the phone for the time he was in the office. I didn’t know he’d gone until the boss came in and asked where everyone was. Then he left too, muttering about people buggering him about. Five minutes later we hear someone has fallen, jumped, perhaps pushed,” Joe raised his eyebrows, “because that’s where it was leading, then we had to wait for the who to filter up. It was a shock. I only met with him once. He seemed a decent bloke.”

“Did everyone in the team think that?” Kent asked.

“Yes. And everyone was on side. Corina hadn’t been with us that long, but long enough that we wanted to make sure it was an accident, and she wasn’t pushed, and again rumour is telling me you’re erring on the side of the latter. I don’t think the boss would do that. He might not be the most loyal bloke in the world, but I can’t see him doing that, because then there would be the why. The only answer being he didn’t want anyone to find out about him and Corina, and I don’t think there was a him and Corina. Do you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. I’ll find out, though. Perhaps he didn’t want anyone finding out about him and Sophie and he thought Corina would end up telling someone she shouldn’t.”

“Well, if you find out he had anything to do with her death, I’ll be the first in the queue to give him what he deserves.”

Meredith nodded. “Okay, I’ll let you get back. I hear you have the smash and grab at Cabot Circus to solve.”

“Yep, and it’s messy. The two that spoke had Geordie accents.”

Meredith got to his feet and held out his hand. “Thanks for coming in, and I’d appreciate it if you’d keep the details of our conversation to yourself. Oh, before you go, anyone in the team left-handed?”

“Not that I can think of.” Meredith winced as Joe gripped his hand. “I’d like to say a pleasure, but you know. As to gossip, I listen to it, not deliver it.”

Meredith flexed his fingers. “Good man.”

Three rooms away, Trump shut the door to the interview room and Patsy smiled as Bradley Canter settled himself. He grinned back at her.

“Glad I came now.” He glanced at her hand, saw her wedding ring but decided to ignore it. “We could have done this over a drink, you know.”

Patsy looked at Trump. “I can see Tyrone was right. This is going to be a waste of time.”

Trump sighed and pulled out the chair next to her. “I’m afraid you might be right.” He turned his attention to Canter. “Is it even worth me asking any questions?”

Canter smirked. “I don’t know until you ask them. What did Tyrone say? He’s full of shit, you know. Go on, try me.”

Patsy clicked the tablet in front of her and turned it to face Canter. The short clip showed Granville entering the bar. “Do you recognise this man?”

Canter was nodding before the recording stopped. “I do. I don’t know who he is, but he was there the night your girl ended up in the harbour.”

“You seem very sure of that,” Trump commented.

“That’s because I am. Although, if I’m honest, I thought he was one of you lot.” Canter leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest as he crossed his legs. He smiled. “Ask me another.”

“Why are you so sure it was that night?”

Canter tapped the side of his head. “I’m a lazy genius who doesn’t know how to harness my abilities.” He looked at Trump. “Don’t smirk, it’s true. I was monitored for years. That genius comment doesn’t come from me, but from the specialist.” He used his fingers to make speech marks around the last word. “But with greatness comes trouble. You’ve probably seen my record. Frustration brings trouble. I couldn’t harness the frustration, either. I’m better at that now.”

“Okay, start at the beginning. I’m not sure I’ve met a genius before. Please explain in basic language so I can understand it.” Patsy gave a smile of encouragement.

“Don’t patronise me. It’s not necessary. I’d like to carry on liking you.” Canter tilted his head. “In my world, it’s a small jump from like to loathe. I’ve no patience for people who try to manipulate me. It’s frustrating. I prefer simple and straightforward, hence my continuing friendship with Tyrone. He’s as simple as they come. Says what he means, because he’s too slow to do anything else. And he’s one of the few who make me laugh. I like laughing. Don’t do it much, though.”

“I apologise, but I do need to understand. Would you try to explain it so I can understand it?”

“As you asked so nicely, I’ll keep it simple. My brain doesn’t process what’s going on around me in the same way others do. When I was a nipper, my mum thought I was having nightmares because sometimes I couldn’t sleep because my brain wouldn’t shut down, and I’d get tired and frustrated because all I wanted to do was sleep. I saw sleep therapists, doctors, got drugged, all sorts, nothing helped. I was naughty at school.“ His fingers produced speech marks around naughty.

“Rarely picked up a pen, yet I still learned everything my mates did. Stuff goes in and stays there. If it’s new information, it stays in there once I’ve worked out where it goes, but that takes time, because first I have to work that out. So I get distracted. Or naughty. Or frustrated, because someone keeps talking or asking or pushing. And despite my best efforts, the doc says it’s a jumble in there. But it’s there. For instance, I only watch anything once, you know, films or telly programs. There’s no point in any more than that because I remember line by line what’s coming next. They tested me. Made me watch loads of stuff, then asked me questions about it. I thought the doc was going to…” Canter smiled at Patsy. “Let’s say get too excited. After the third set of tests, he tells me I could be anything I wanted if I put my mind to it, if I could harness the information, but that’s also the problem. My mind doesn’t want data to be put anywhere. It just does its thing. I’m used to it now, and don’t get so frustrated now I understand what’s happening, but it’s still irritating. I prefer to listen to music, because although repetitive, it’s kind of soothing. Anyway, long story short, because I knew I was coming in here and why, I had a think, and he was there.” Canter tapped the screen, where the now blurred image of Granville remained.

“Fascinating. Like a photographic memory without an easily accessible index,” Trump commented. “So, te—“

“Nicely put. If I ever bother to go back to the doc’s, I’ll steal that. But fascinating it’s not. Not if you have to live with it. People don’t understand why you contradict them or why you are such a smartass. I gave up explaining it to most people years ago.” Canter barked out a laugh. “When we were broke, me and my mates used to drive for miles to pub quizzes that paid cash, and we’d win most of the time.”

“If true, and I’m not doubting you, why not do a job that would reward you for your skill? Or why not go on Who Wants to be a Millionaire, and cash in?“ Trump asked.

“Is the question everyone asks.” Again, Canter tapped his head. “Because I’m not in control, because although if I’ve ever had that information I’d be able to drag it back up eventually, it takes its time. Sometime minutes, sometime hours, and I get frustrated if it’s more than a few minutes, because I know it’s there, but I can’t find it quickly enough and then I can’t stop thinking about it. The weird thing is, I know what I don’t know almost immediately. And I’d also get either frustrated or distracted, wondering why I don’t know. Best left alone. Honestly, mate, it’s a curse, not a gift. I’d love to be as simple as you lot, but I’m not, so managing the warehouse suits me fine. It’s easy enough that I can ‘space out’ as my mum calls it, but it pays enough to keep me in new trainers.”

“As DS Trump says, it is fascinating. Let’s go back to this man. Tell me what information you have stored on him.”

“He arrived about eight o’clock and went inside. About twenty minutes later, he came out with his drink and looked up and down. He was obviously waiting for someone. Jimmy asked him if he’d been stood up. He checked us all out before he answered, you know, assessed us, and decided it was too much trouble to tell him to mind his own business, so he just said, ‘I hope not’, and went back inside. Then the girl who does the local weather on the news came in, and she—“

Patsy could see where he was going, so she interrupted him, “Did you see him again?”

“Yep. Me and Jimmy were the last there. He was sitting at one of the tall tables, looking pissy, when I went in to get a drink. He was on his own. That was just after nine thirty because Tom had left to catch the nine forty-five bus home. Jade, his girlfriend, was on one because they were going to the parents’ for Sunday lunch. He left twenty minutes later, just before we did. He—“

“Did you see him with this girl?” Patsy found the recording of Corina arriving at the bar.

Canter only glanced at it. “No. Saw them both arrive, and both leave but separately. And I only went inside once, and he was on his own.”

“Do you remember this man?”

Patsy moved on to the recording of the man who had big feet and had left the bar minutes after Corina.

“Yep, he got a call from his wife or girlfriend.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he answered his phone as he left, and said ‘I’m leaving now, get your kit off, you’d better be ready.’ I suppose it could have been a boyfriend. But it’s not him. I know you think someone might have attacked her and pushed her in. It wouldn’t have been him.” Canter shook his head as he spoke.

Patsy agreed with him but asked, “Why do you say that?”

“Because she was rushing, he was strolling, and he was happy. On a promise. He was going to get sex. What could have happened between them for him to do that?” Canter shrugged. “Common sense.”

“But he left in the same direction as Corina?”

“Yes. But so did Tyrone. He didn’t do it either. I didn’t see more than that because I stepped back under the heater. Then Tyrone left. Then it started hammering down.”

“Okay, I think we’re done for now, unless you can think of anything that might help us?” Patsy asked.

“No. Sorry.”

“Given your abilities, we might need to speak to you in the future. Just to clarify details. Would you be happy to do that?”

“Of course. We could do it over that drink.” Canter smiled.

“Now you’re teasing me,” Patsy replied. “One last question, just because I’m curious. Why did you think the first man was a police officer?”

“The way he assessed us. The way he considered how to respond. Just his attitude. A lot of coppers assessed me in my troubled youth. They either patronise you, try to be your best mate, or bully you. None of it works. You just need to be straight.”

Patsy nodded. “Accepted. I wasn’t trying to patronise you. I was attempting to verify the truth of what you were saying. We get spun all sorts of stories, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate. Being straight, there will be no drinks. You’ve seen my wedding ring, I’m happily married. Perhaps in another life, because you seem like a nice man trying to exist in a world that expects you to function differently. I can only imagine the frustration. For me, personally, it’s been a rewarding experience. And I like a straight talker too. Come on, I’ll show you out.”

When they got back to the office, only Linda and Meredith remained.

“Where is everyone?” Patsy asked.

“Sent them home. It’s messy, it needs simplifying, and I need to think about it. I’m starving, as is Loopy, and we’ve agreed we’re going to the Italian on the way home. Then you and I are going to have an hour looking at what we’ve got and come up with a fresh plan of attack for tomorrow morning. No gym tomorrow. They’ll be here for eight.”

“In which case, I’ll get my bag.”

Chapter Twenty

Meredith tapped his pen on the side of his mug, and the team fell silent.

“Despite burning the midnight oil, I haven’t solved it, but I do have a plan of attack for the next two days. I know we’ve still got a way to go before we have completed the timeline, and we will go back to it, but we need some key answers now. We need to find out if Harry Jones knew Corina wanted a transfer. Whatever her reasons, I can’t see why she wouldn’t have discussed it with him. We also need to speak to everyone in both teams and find out if any of them are left-handed.” Meredith held up his own hand to stop George commenting. “We also need to find our pen pal. Hodge suggested three contenders. Hodge.”

“Harry Jones, although I think he might have confessed it was him when we were questioning him, so he’s bottom of the list. Sophie Dawson, I’ve put in second place, because I believe she would have mentioned the secret phone in the letters, so, if she is our letter-writer, why didn’t she? And top of the list is Andrew Binner. He caused a stink when they closed Fairweather’s case, and it was the first thing he asked us to do before we’d even started the interview about Corina. Perhaps he suggested Corina’s death wasn’t dealt with properly as a means to getting Fairweather’s death looked at again. What do you think?” Patsy looked around the team.

“I agree it could be any of them, but writing the notes didn’t guarantee DCI Fairweather’s case would be reopened. If the skipper had stuck to his plan, we wouldn’t even be looking at it now. We were only going to do that if Corina’s death was foul play. What if we’d decided she fell over and rolled into the harbour? Unless you think he knows something he’s not shared, it’s a bit of a long shot. Sorry, Patsy. And what about Rich French? He was her partner. He’s as good a guess as Binner,” Linda responded.

“Because other than a useful aide-mémoire, he doesn’t really feature in Corina’s life, does he?” Patsy replied.

“I don’t think you can say that, Patsy. He was her partner. Just because he wasn’t having her round for Sunday lunch with the family doesn’t mean they weren’t close. You build a bond with your partner. You’re with them more than the wife most days. That said, I don’t think it’s him, because like you said about Harry, why not tell us once we’d reopened it?” George tutted and looked at Meredith. “Who do you think it is?”

“I’d say I don’t know, but you wouldn’t believe me. Sticking with the Fairweather case, I want you and Kent to speak to whoever you need to and find out the design of the scaffolding around the building. Entry points, platforms, etcetera, and find out how anyone might have accessed the third-floor level without going through the fire door used by Fairweather, if that was even possible. I also want to know who was in the station at the time. Then I want to know what they were doing there. I know it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be a start. Someone who shouldn’t be there might stick out like a sore thumb.”

“That’s a long shot. There might be people there who don’t want to be, but who would be in a police station that shouldn’t be?” George asked.

“Once again, I don’t know. Hopefully, that’s what you’re going to find out. I’ll have to let Seaton know that you’ve replaced him in questioning my judgement and asking stupid questions. Can we move on, or have you got another one?” Meredith asked.

“Just trying to help. You carry on.” George smirked.

“Thank you. Now to the incomplete timeline. Hodge duplicated it and then took out what we judged to be simply noise at this stage. In hindsight, we should have stuck to the key players and added if and when we felt it necessary. The uncluttered version tells me that if Corina was killed intentionally, the string of events during the last six weeks of her life led to her death. And that being the case, a police officer is responsible, because we have got no one other than her team, her brother, and Tamsin Burton anywhere near her during that time. I don’t think it was either of the last two, and Granville is front and centre at all times. I’ll get Loopy to send you a copy, but there are still questions and dates we need an answer to for it to move us forward. Sophie Dawson can answer most of them because, like Granville, she was right in the middle of it. Yes, Daisy?”

“I can’t believe Sophie killed Corina, so as she knows better than anyone what was going on, I think that also puts her higher up the pen pal list than Binner.” Daisy’s cheeks flushed, as they always did when she spoke to the team. “And, if those most involved in her life are DCI Granville and Sophie, then perhaps Sophie found out something that incriminates Granville, but she wasn’t sure, didn’t want to get herself in trouble, so she wrote to the Chief Constable. Maybe? I’m probably way off.”

“No, you’re not. That’s one theory, and it’s a good one. Might even be correct. Because, for the best part, we only have Dawson’s word for what was going on in Corina’s life. Perhaps Dawson followed Corina when she went out? That’s why Trump and Hodge are going to interview her today.” Meredith turned his back and began writing on the whiteboard. “ Loopy, get this copied for the file. This is the list of questions we have for Dawson. Think about it and let Hodge know if there is anything else we should add.”

Questions for Dawson:

When did the affair with Granville begin & end?

Is it ongoing, or have there been lapses?

Why did she call Granville before Corina got to the bar?

Did she know that Corina was going to meet him?

Why did Granville give Corina a hard time?

Why did she tell us about Granville’s secret phone?

What was the argument in the lift about?

Date of the tie pin.

Is it possible Corina told anyone else? (It seems the affair was an open secret.)

Reveal pen pal?

Meredith turned back to the team. “Once we have the answers to these questions, we’ll bring Granville in. But I want to be sure that we are absolutely on the money, because before I do, I’ll have to brief the chief super and probably the chief constable too. That won’t be fun, so I need to have all the answers. Talking of which, I might as well share these now, add to it as and when you think of anything.” Meredith turned several pages in his notebook and listed his questions for Granville on the board. “This is what we have so far.” He turned back to the board.

Questions for Granville:

Why did he grab Corina in the bar?

What did he threaten her with?

Why did he give her a hard time generally?

Is it possible Corina told anyone else about the affair? It seems the affair was an open secret.

Exactly what happened when he ‘kissed’ Corina?

When did he make a pass at Corina?

Did he know Corina wanted a transfer?

How did he know Fairweather wanted to speak to him? (no phone records between the two for that day)

“I’ve been pondering the missing phone call. I thought it was possible that Fairweather left a message he’d be coming in to see Granville. But there are no calls from either Fairweather’s mobile or his station phone to Granville’s station or mobile for the forty-eight hours before. Much like Corina, it seems there is a way of making or receiving calls that don’t register. It’s certainly a conundrum,” Trump observed.

Linda jumped to her feet. “FaceTime. FaceTime calls don’t register on your call log. WhatsApp do, but not FaceTime. I knew that. Why didn’t I remember it?” Linda rapped her knuckles against her forehead. “I think I’m losing my touch, Skipper. I’m sure you can still find it, they might not have looked.”

“Don’t go all dramatic, Loopy, I had a late night. So, is that true? Anyone here use FaceTime?” Meredith asked.

“I do. Two secs, Guv.” Kent tapped away on his phone and looked at Daisy as her phone vibrated on her desk. “Answer it. Let’s see what happens.”

Daisy answered it, said hello, and hung up. The call showed on neither’s history on their phones, but it did register on the FaceTime app.

Meredith looked at Linda. “You might have done it again, Loopy, better late than never. The only flaw in your theory is that I can’t see Fairweather using FaceTime. He was in his prime, much like me, and I haven’t got it.”

“No, but I have. When Amanda can’t get you on WhatsApp, she FaceTimes me. It’s your main way of communicating with the twins and Peggy, of course,” Patsy told him.

“I stand corrected. Another question for everyone.” Meredith turned back to the whiteboard.

Do you use FaceTime?

Who in the team uses FaceTime?

Did Corina have FaceTime?

“What are you looking for, Linda?” Patsy asked as Linda’s fingers tapped away at her keyboard.

“One moment…Yes, I didn’t think so. Corina used Twitter as was and WhatsApp. There were a few other apps, but not Facebook or FaceTime. Her messages were checked on both. Nothing,” Linda replied.

“Could she have deleted it? And if she did, can we find out?” Trump asked.

“I don’t know, but I’ll find out.” Linda made a note.

“Okay, I think we have just solved one issue, fingers crossed. And as Fairweather had teenage sons, I concede it is highly likely that he used it, although why would he call Granville that way? So, another task for Daisy and Loopy, find out who in Corina’s team used it as a way of communicating. Let’s crack on. Hodge, call Dawson and get her in here ASAP. If anyone knows if Corina had it, she will. Kent and George get answers about the scaffolding, Loopy and Daisy, phone round and asking about FaceTime and left-handers. That’s your lot.”

Meredith walked back to his desk and a few moments later Patsy followed him.

“Hodge, you look like you’re going to tell me something I don’t want to hear.”

“No, just questioning my judgement.” Patsy raised her shoulders.

“Which is marginally better than questioning mine. Spit it out.”

“I think you should call Sophie and do the interview with Louie. I think she’ll be more forthcoming with you. Especially if you flatter her.”

Meredith pursed his lips as he considered this. “Are you suggesting I should flirt? I don’t know if I’m more shocked at that, or the fact that you think a woman described as a good, effective police officer would be shallow enough to share secrets because a handsome and charming man is giving her the eye. You don’t rate her?”

Patsy shrugged again and tried not to smile. “I know flirting doesn’t come naturally to you but I think you could pull it off. I don’t know whether I rate her, because I haven’t worked with her, but, and it’s the all-important but, she enjoys winding Granville up. She will jump at the chance to let him know she’s coming to see you and then wax lyrical about the meeting afterwards. You like it when suspects get wound up. What do you think?”

“I think it’s a…It’s French. Let me get this and I’ll speak to Dawson.” Meredith lifted his mobile and snapped his name.

“DCI Meredith, I need to speak to you. Things are getting out of hand. Sophie Dawson turned up for work with a thick lip. And whilst she won’t talk about it, I think I know who did it. Can we speak this morning, because I can grab an hour?”

Meredith grinned at Patsy as he replied, “Where is Dawson now?”

“Upstairs at her desk,” French replied.

“Okay, you get over here as soon as you can. You’ll be speaking to Hodge. I have something else on.”

“I’ll be there in half an hour. Thanks.”

“Before you go, have you been corresponding with the chief constable?” Meredith winked at Patsy as she put her hands on her hips.

“How did you know?” French asked.

“Can’t take the credit for that. Someone suggested it. Don’t tell Dawson or Granville you’re coming here. I’ll sort it out later if there’s any trouble.”

“Thank you. I’m already in the car.”

Meredith laid his phone down slowly. “You’re seeing French shortly. TRUMP!”

Patsy winced as Meredith bellowed across the office. “You don’t need to do that, you know. None of us are deaf.”

Trump walked across to join them, and aware the others were looking, Meredith got to his feet.

“Loopy, I owe you a drink. French is our pen pal and is on his way in to speak to us because Dawson turned up with a thick lip this morning. So, Trump and Hodge will speak to him, and I’ll be speaking to Dawson.” He held up a hand as Linda got to her feet. “That’s your lot, no questions. We’ve all got jobs to do.”

“You think Granville hit her?” Trump asked, dropping the senior officer’s rank for the first time.

“As sure as I can be. He’s besotted with her. Don’t think she would have needed to push many buttons given what we’ve heard about his temper. I reckon things are going to move quickly from here on in. When you speak to French, full disclosure. If he doesn’t volunteer what we know, tell him and get his opinion. He’ll have one, and it will be worthy of consideration.” Meredith picked up his phone. “I’ve got a call to make. Get ready for French.”

“Sophie or the chief super?” Patsy asked.

“Sophie Dawson. I’ll save Uncle David. We’ll know more once we’ve spoken to these two.”

Granville walked out of his office and marched across to Sophie Dawson’s desk.

“I called you. A word in my office, please.” Granville spoke quietly, aware that the office had fallen silent. His team was hanging on his every word. That had always pleased him. Now he knew better. He knew anything that happened now would make its way back to Meredith. “Sophie!” he hissed through gritted teeth.

Sophie looked up at him and forced a lopsided smile. The bruise on her top lip making it inflexible. “I was busy. What do you need?” she lisped.

“I need you in my office as requested.” Granville swung his hand towards his office.

“Have I done something wrong? Am I in trouble?” she asked, her louder than necessary voice causing his frown to deepen.

“No. But I’d like—“

“Oh, it’s DCI Meredith. I must take this.” Sophie winced as she attempted another smile. “DCI Meredith. What can I do for you?…You want to see me? How intriguing. When? I’m all yours.” Sophie’s eyes never left Granville’s as she spoke. His hands became fists as she got to her feet and slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “No problem, just pushing paper here. I’ll leave now.” Sliding her phone into her back pocket, she jerked her head towards the door. “DCI Meredith wants me. I’ll be back once he’s finished with me.”

“Sophie, I—“

“What? Are you suggesting whatever it is you want to bollock me about is more important than investigating the death of Corina?”

“Be careful, Sophie, don’t push your luck. I’ll see you later.” Granville kept his voice low and watched her leave. He looked around the office as the door closed behind her. “Where’s French?” he asked. His team didn’t have an answer for him, so he went to his office and called him. “French, where are you?”

“On my way to see DCI Meredith. He called, and as I’m only chasing calls this morning, I thought I’d get it out of the way. You were in with Joe, so I left you to it.”

Granville hung up without a reply. “FUCKING MEREDITH!” he bellowed as he dropped onto his chair. He didn’t see Binner lean across his desk and whisper something to Game, before wandering over to speak to Joe Brown, because his eyes were closed, his fists clenched, and he was trying to resist the urge to destroy everything within range.

Chapter Twenty-One

Trump closed the door and sat next to Patsy. He smiled at French before hitting the record button.

“Interview with DS Richard French, present are Senior Investigator Patsy Hodge, and DS Louie Trump. DS French believes he knows something about the death of Police Constable Corina Jones in 2015. An open verdict was recorded at the inquest. DS French wrote to Chief Constable Carrington suggesting a crime was committed. He has come to us voluntarily and will now recount what he knows and give his opinions on events both before and after the death of Corina Jones. He is aware this interview is being recorded and that anything he says may be used as evidence in any subsequent trials. DS French, explain to us how you come to be sitting here today.”

French screwed his eyes shut and clasped his hands behind his head for a moment. Allowing his hands to fall on the table, he drew in a breath.

“This might jump about a bit, but I’ll start before Corina died. Some of this is fact, some hearsay, some, just as you suggested, my opinion. First, I should say that at the time this happened, and call me naïve, but I had no idea Sophie was having an affair with the boss. Not when it was going on.” His eyes shot to the flashing light of the recorder. “That’s DC Sophie Dawson and DCI Robert Granville, until something happened between him and Corina. One day he was just the boss who occasionally wound her up, the next Corina could barely bring herself to talk to him. I don’t know what happened or how serious that was, but I think he wanted more than she was prepared to give. I’ve worked that out since, but at the time, I assumed he’d made a pass at her or suggested something inappropriate. She handled it, didn’t want to discuss it, so I left what I thought had been dealt with alone.”

“How did you reach that conclusion? Because if something similar happened here, I wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that DCI Meredith had been inappropriate. I would assume he’d either given someone a talking to about, I don’t know, some shortcoming, or denied them something they’d asked for. Something must have happened or been said to suggest that. What was it?” Trump asked.

“Yes, sorry. Not used to being on this side of the desk. We’d managed to get a conviction on a particularly nasty thug, and the boss said the drinks were on him. Sophie was on holiday, which we all said was a shame because she’d been the one who arrested him in the first place. Anyway, we went for a drink. As always, what was going to be a couple of drinks turned into a bit of a party, and we ended up going to a local restaurant. Cost me a fortune, had to get a taxi home and then back to work the next morning.”

Rich French dropped his keys on his desk and looked across the office.

“Morning. How’s your head this morning, Joe? What time did you get away? Do you know how much I’ve spent on taxis? Next time the boss suggests going for a drink, make me take the car home first. Is there coffee on?”

Joe Brown held up an energy drink. “Don’t know. I needed something more potent. My head is just fine, thank you. Nothing a double dose of paracetamol couldn’t sort out. Don’t think we stopped long after you left. I shared an Uber with Karen, because she lives around the corner. You should be more worried about Corina. We left her and the boss to it. It was gone eleven.”

“Oh god! We’ve got a lot on today. Don’t know what she’s like with a hangover. Is there any food around? I’m starving.”

“Not that I know. You’ll have to go to the cafe and get something. Actually, while you’re there, could you grab me a bacon roll?” Joe asked.

“I’ll wait for the boss to get in first. If he’s got a sore head, it might sweeten him up a bit,” French replied.

“Who needs sweetening up?” Granville asked as he strode into the office.

“Morning, boss. Joe suggested you might have a hangover. I was going to buy you a bacon roll to keep you happy.” French laughed as Joe protested his innocence.

“And I’ll accept it. But no hangover here, I’m not a lightweight like you lot. Where’s Brendon and Corina? We need to crack on. You can feed everyone later.”

“I’m here. I’ve just been talking to Benny, and—“ Brendon Cook was cut short by Granville.

“No time for your gossip. Get yourself settled. Briefing in five.” Granville disappeared into his office.

“Where’s Corina?” Cook asked. “She’s never late.”

“She stayed out drinking with the boss. He’ll probably let her off. You shot off early. Not like you,” French replied.

Cook smirked. “I had someone more interesting to see. And just because he was with her, that won’t make a difference. He won’t be happy if he’s got to start without her. You know what he’s like with Corina.”

Corina hurried into the office. “What who’s like with me? You making up gossip again, Cookie?” Dropping her coat onto the chair, Corina looked around. “No coffee?”

“I hear you were out late with the boss. How did that go?” Cook grinned at Corina.

“Meaning what? We finished a bottle of wine and went home? How do you think it went?” Corina demanded.

Cook held his hands up. “Bloody hell, calm down. You know what you two can be like. I wondered if you managed not to shout at each other. Jesus, take a pill and chill, Corina.”

Corina ignored him. “I’m going to get some coffee. Does anyone want one?”

“No. Should have arrived earlier if you wanted coffee. Sit down, shut up the lot of you. Let’s get on,” Granville said as he walked to stand by the incident board.

Corina dragged her chair out and sat down.

“First off, Corina tells me we still haven’t had the forensic results on the Green case. Who was supposed to be chasing that? Whoever it was, get on with it. Corina, I want the notes written up from yesterday and on my desk before you disappear. They should already be there.”

“And they would have if you hadn’t insisted we all go out,” Corina snapped, a flash of colour appearing on her neck.

“Sniping already? Did you have a late night?” Granville grinned at her. “Oh yes, you did. You’ll have to get used to that and learn how to cope with it.”

“I can cope. You’ll have them before I go out.” Corina crossed her arms across her chest.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Granville completed the briefing and disappeared back into his office.

“Are you alright?” French asked Corina.

“Yes, why?” Corina looked over her screen, frowning at French.

“Because you are unusually quiet. You didn’t challenge the boss once, after you told him why he didn’t have your notes. Do you need some help?”

“No. What I need is coffee. Do you want to make it?” Corina replied.

When French returned with the tray of mugs, Corina was in Granville’s office, her report in hand. He left her coffee on her desk and took Granville’s in to him.

“Normal service resumed,” he muttered as Corina’s exasperated tone reached him.

“You’ve got to be joking. That wasn’t what I said.” Corina stood arms akimbo, with her back to French.

Granville glanced at French. “Corina, calm down, don’t make a mountain out of molehill. I’m not in the mood for this today. Leave the report and get on with some work.”

Corina slapped the report on his desk. “Oh, sorry, sir. I clearly misunderstood. Won’t happen again.”

French raised his eyebrows as Corina spun around and narrowly missed bumping into him. The sarcasm was dripping from every word she spoke, and he waited for Granville to call her back and reprimand her.

Corina glared at French, her cheeks flaming. “Excuse me!”

She pushed past him, causing the hot coffee to splash over his hand. Granville rolled his eyes and tutted, and seeing that Granville was giving her some slack, French put the coffee down and hurried away, not wishing to get drawn into conversation. He sat at his desk and looked across at Corina. She looked furious, so he kept quiet until she’d had drunk some of her coffee.

“We’ll make a move once we’ve finished our coffees. I could do with being out of here today,” he said.

“Good plan, me too.” Corina smiled and held up her mug. “You make the best coffee. You should do it more often.”

They left half an hour later. Corina had only spoken when someone addressed her. Clipping her seatbelt in place she huffed out a sigh.

“Bad night?” French asked.

“I do not have a hangover, but if it makes it easier for you, then yes, awful. Fucking awful.” Corina closed her eyes. “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap. Just glad to be out of there.”

“I thought you did well today. You didn’t argue with him. Not much anyway.” French laughed and glanced at her. Her eyes remained closed, but her chest rose as she drew in a breath to temper her response.

“It’s not an argument he needs, it’s a kick in the danglies. Total bastard. Change the subject.”

“Did something happen last night?” French asked.

“Like what?” Corina demanded.

“I don’t know. Did he pull you about something, or try to give you a pep talk, being as heavy-handed as only he can be? You’re wound up and unusually quiet for you. Where’s the happy, I’ve always got something to say Corina gone?”

“Don’t patronise me, Rich. I’m not in the mood. Let’s stick to me having a hangover, and you telling me again how wonderful your life is.”

“What’s wrong with your life? You’re doing a job you love, you’ve got a nice little setup with Soph. You’re young, single, and the world is waiting for you.”

Corina turned her head to look at him. “You’re a sweet bloke, Rich. If you ever get divorced, I’ll consider taking on a single dad, but really, just concentrate on the driving.”

“Never going to happen. I know which side my bread is buttered. But thanks for the offer, appreciated.” French laughed. “Are you seeing anyone at the moment?”

“Fucking hell. Will you leave well alone? I do not need a good seeing to. I’m happy as I am. Or I was. Don’t make me hit you, Rich, because it will be directed at the wrong person and I might damage that pretty face of yours.”

“Did he do something, the boss? Did he try it on or something? Because when I left, everyone was having a good time, but Joe tells me you and the boss were—“

“Stop the car. Stop the car, now!”

“Calm down, I’m not stopping the car. I’m looking out for you. Whatever happened, or perhaps didn’t, but whatever it is, you should talk about it.”

“Nothing happened. I’m hungover. Now leave it alone or stop the car. You’re turning into Cookie and making stuff up.”

French knew something was troubling her, and it wasn’t a hangover. But he’d tried. He decided to see how she seemed over the next few days and then maybe try again. He held up a hand.

“I’ll shut up. But you know where I am.”

“I do. Looking over my shoulder every minute of every day. Your concern is appreciated but unnecessary. I’ll buy lunch. Turn left at those lights.”

“She was okay for a couple of days, then something happened, and she was more challenging than usual. The boss could do little about it because she only did so when she was in the right. It was more the way she said stuff and the way she looked at him. Sophie was also being awkward with him. But it was different. Soph was more sarcastic than challenging and never in briefings. It’s difficult to explain. I thought it was only a matter of time before he blew. I did actually feel a bit sorry for him at one stage. Neither of them were doing anything so wrong that he could discipline them. He got stroppy occasionally, but not as much as expected. And then she died. I should have tried harder, because it was so obvious that something had happened that night.”

“I doubt you could have changed the outcome. Don’t beat yourself up. What date was this dinner?” Patsy asked.

“Eighteenth September. I looked that up before I came.”

“Did you know she told Brendon Cook that she was going to apply for a transfer?” Patsy asked.

“No. Not until yesterday. It’s a nightmare in the office at the moment. Even Joe has become involved in the gossip, more listening than sharing, but every time the boss walks out the door, someone has something to say, and we all stop work to listen. Especially when Soph isn’t around. The current consensus is that the boss killed Corina.” French shook his head and raised a hand, which he allowed to drop back onto the table. “Is that what you think?”

“It’s looking like a strong possibility. What reasons are being suggested as to why he would do that?” Trump asked.

“Two main ones, neither of which we can believe, because killing her just seems so extreme. First, and most serious, is he did something worse than inappropriate, and Corina kept quiet initially, then suggested she might do something about it. That would explain her animosity towards him, and not caring what he thought about it, and now we’ve added the request for a transfer to back that up. The second is that she found out about his affair with Sophie and he just got fed up with her rubbing his nose in it. Like I said, Corina challenged the boss a lot with arguments she’d considered. She never did it for the sake of it, so he rarely had an argument to counter hers. Or if he did, he didn’t use it. That in itself would be unusual. He didn’t make DCI by being subtle. He knew she didn’t approve of the affair, so he might have seen that as a threat, especially if he had been inappropriate.” French’s hands were back behind his head. “Both are difficult to believe but doing this job you know people who have been killed for a lot less.”

“What do you think about those theories?” Patsy asked.

“Honestly? I don’t know, but I don’t think Corina would have kept her mouth shut if he’d raped her. I would have doubted that even if he’d just grabbed her arse or something. She really didn’t like him. She would have caused a fuss. But I’ve given it a lot of thought, and Corina liked her job. She liked Bristol. Perhaps she considered keeping quiet initially because she didn’t want to lose that. We all know that these types of charges don’t always end up in court, and even then, they are so difficult to prove. Had she pushed it, would she even have been able to remain a police officer? Would she want to deal with the details having been made public, and the gossip that would surely follow? But once I found out someone thought he’d killed her, I realised I’d missed so many clues that might prove that to be the case, so thought I should raise the alarm. But what if I was wrong? By that time, I knew about him and Sophie, and it all sort of fell into place. I couldn’t leave it, and I didn’t want it to be buried again. I knew about the success here, and that Chief Constable Carrington was a fan, so rather than go via the normal channels, I wrote to her.”

“And when no one started asking questions, you threatened the chief constable with the press.” Trump raised his eyebrows.

French rubbed his hands over his face. “Yes, I know, I put my head in a noose, but if Granville killed Corina, and then DCI Fairweather died because of his investigation into her death, which looks very possible, I was hoping she’d overlook that. When I asked for a job with the CCRT, DCI Meredith told me if I took a job here, I’d never get promoted. I doubt I ever will now anyway, so nothing to lose. It was because of Corina’s death I asked him to consider me.”

“Explain?” Patsy asked.

“Although it was so long ago, I knew that if I didn’t speak out, and Corina had been murdered, her death would go unpunished. You’ve proved that needn’t be the case so many times. My lack of interfering when I knew she was troubled may have, in part anyway, helped her killer get away with it. Working here would help me right other wrongs.”

“Interesting, and yes, it is rewarding. So, to the crux of the matter. You’re sitting here today because you believe that DCI Granville is responsible for Sophie Dawson’s injury, and because you wrote to Chief Constable Carrington. What started this ball rolling? Why do you think Granville killed Corina? Actually, before you answer that, why do you think her thick lip came from him?” Patsy asked.

“When she turned up this morning obviously everyone noticed and Cookie asked what had happened. She said, ‘You should have seen the size of the door! Just kidding, nothing dramatic. I slipped on the treadmill at the gym.’ She’s been going to the gym lately, so we left it. But after he’d done the briefing, the boss walked past her desk and asked if she was okay. She gave him the finger, and he just turned and went into his office. Whatever had gone on between them in the past, he’d have still pulled her unless he didn’t want a fuss made. I asked her outright, quietly, because I didn’t want to embarrass her, but nor did I want her to end up like Corina. She just shrugged, and I called DCI Meredith.”

Patsy nodded. “Okay, let’s go back to why you think Granville might be responsible.”

“Because I overheard a phone call. I’d been out taking a statement, and I got back late, and thought everyone else had gone home. I went in to pick up something I’d left at the office and the boss was on the phone. I didn’t even know he was there until his phone rang. I couldn’t hear what was being said until he raised his voice, and he said, ‘Not again. For Christ’s sake. I didn’t, and for the record, I didn’t kill her either.’ Then he must have hung up on that caller, because I heard him order some food. He realised someone was in the office and came to see who. I held up my package and told him I wasn’t stopping. He nodded and said, ‘I thought it was Corina. She’s not done that report yet.’ Then he went back into his office. I couldn’t get it out of my mind. He denies killing someone, then gets the name wrong and says Corina instead of Sophie after Corina had been dead all these years. It wasn’t much of a leap.”

“When was this?” Patsy asked. “We’ll need to see if we can find out who he was talking to.” Patsy glanced at Trump as their phones pinged one after the other. “Oh, excuse me. I’d better check.” She read the message from Meredith and looked at French. “DCI Granville has just resigned.”

“Fuck. It was him.” French ran his hands over his face. “What now?”

“He’s certainly making it look that way. Now we carry on with the investigation,” Trump replied. “You were going to tell us when Granville made his faux pas with the names.”

“Fifth of July,” French answered.

“You seem very sure of that. Was it in your notebook?” Patsy asked.

“Probably. But it was the day before my daughter’s birthday, I’d gone back to the office to pick up her present. Can you find out what’s going on? Will you arrest him now?” French asked.

“Not sure. DCI Meredith was supposed to be interviewing Sophie any time now. That might have changed. We’re done here for the moment. We’d better see if we’re needed. Thanks for coming in.” Trump got to his feet and held out his hand.

French took Trump’s hand. “Do you mind if I hang around to see what’s happening?”

“Come with us. You might have to keep anything you find out to…Do you want to get that? It might be connected,” Trump asked as French’s phone rang.

French answered the call. “Brendon, is this urgent? Oh, go on then, what’s happened?” French fell silent as he listened to the response. When he hung up, he looked at Trump. “The boss slammed his door and called someone. There was a lot of shouting, then banging around and he appeared with a carrier bag. Alex Game asked him what was going on and he said, ‘I just quit. You’re in charge.’ When Alex asked him what he meant, the boss asked if he was stupid, and said, ‘I quit. Effective immediately.’ Then stormed out.”

Trump nodded. “This way.”

Meredith was watching the interview with French when his phone rang. He glanced at the screen and groaned, choosing to ignore the call.

“Loopy, if Uncle David calls, I’m interviewing. She should be here by now. That’s probably him now.” Meredith placed a finger on his lips as the landline to the office rang.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, Skipper,” Linda told him and she picked up the call. “Oh, hello Uncle David, how are you? Oh, right. The skipper is interviewing at…Okay, I’ll see if I can get him…Oh. He’ll want to know that. I’ll go and find him…yes, yes, I’ll get him to call you straight back.” She looked at Meredith. “You need to call him. DCI Granville has just resigned.”

“Bugger, he knows.” Meredith pursed his lips and considered the implications before walking to his desk. “I think this might be a carpark call. I won’t be long. Carry on working. It’s now more important than ever.” Taking the cigarettes from his drawer, he left the office. Once in the carpark, he lit his cigarette and blew smoke skyward before hitting the call button. Chief Superintendent Ashworth gave him no time for a greeting.

“She must have told you. You’ve never called back this promptly. What the hell did you say to him?” Ashworth demanded.

“I haven’t spoken to him, but I do have Sophie Dawson en route for another interview. She turned up to work with a thick lip this morning. It’s believed to be courtesy of Granville. What did he say to you?”

“Believed? Did he do it or not? That would answer a lot of questions,” Ashworth snapped.

“That I don’t know yet. I got a tip-off. I’ll ask her when she gets here. What other questions have you got?”

“Too many for this conversation. I want you in my office first thing. In the meantime, get me a report across once you’ve spoken to DC Dawson.”

“I can’t promise first thing. It depends on what Trump and Hodge have got from French, and what Dawson has to say, and whether you think Granville is a flight risk. I think that’s a possibility, but you know him better than me.”

“Christ, Meredith, do you think he killed Corina Jones?” Ashworth asked.

“I think it’s highly likely, yes. On the bright side, he didn’t push Fairweather off the scaffolding. I’m still working on that one. Are you okay for me to bring him in, or do you want me to wait until we see what the rest of the day chucks at us?” Meredith took a drag on his cigarette.

“What time is Dawson due in?” Ashworth asked.

“She should have been here by now. Perhaps Granville’s departure has held her up. Perhaps she’s with him. I can’t answer these questions because I’m talking to you.”

“Don’t push your luck, Meredith. Speak to Dawson and then, if necessary, bring him in. Keep me posted, before you go looking for him, and not after the event,” Ashworth snapped.

“Will do. You seem agitated with me, sir. So I would politely remind you that you chose the CCRT to look into this, and knew that a police officer might be involved. I can only work with the evidence that comes my way. Can I go now?”

“First thing, Meredith. I’ll update Carrington.”

Meredith took his final drag and stubbed out his cigarette, texted Hodge and Trump, and went back inside. When he walked back into the office, he found them standing at Hodge’s desk with French.

“How was Uncle David?” Hodge asked.

“Not enough time. Dawson should be here by now. I’m hoping Granville hasn’t convinced her otherwise.” He turned to French. “If you call her, do you think she’d speak to you?”

French shrugged. “Fifty-fifty chance, I’d say, what with the boss’s news. It’s possible she’s with him.”

“Better than mine then. Stay there. Trump, and Hodge, get over to Granville’s home address and pick him up. If his wife is about ask her if he uses FaceTime. We couldn’t find a Facebook account for him.”

“Are we arresting him?” Patsy asked.

“If he doesn’t come voluntarily, yes. You can use murder and assault. If he’s not there, see what else you can get out of the wife. She knew he was having an affair with someone. Let’s see what she has to say.” He turned to look at French, who had raised a finger. “Yes, French.”

“He uses FaceTime. Gets angry sometimes when his kids call him on it.”

Meredith nodded and looked at Linda, who was following the conversation. “Get on to Uncle David. I want a search warrant for Granville’s house. We’ll go back when we have it. Don’t mention we’re going to pick him up.”

“He said no, didn’t he?” Patsy asked.

Meredith wagged his finger at her. “If I don’t answer that question, I won’t have to lie. Shouldn’t you be somewhere else? French, take a pew and call Dawson. We want to know where she is, and why she’s not here, and what she knows about Granville’s resignation.”

French nodded and sat at Patsy’s desk. Louie fixed his camera tie pin on his tie and patted it.

“Ready when you are, Patsy.” he said, slipping a set of handcuffs into his pocket. “Hopefully, these won’t be needed, and he’ll come quietly.”

“We can only hope. I think we’d better get going, Meredith looks like he has a toothache.” She laughed and followed Trump to the door.

Meredith strode to catch her up, grabbing her arm and pulled her to face him. “I know this will piss you off, but if he gets nasty, stand back and call in the cavalry. No heroics, leave that to Trump.”

Patsy patted the side of his face. “Not pissed off, disappointed. Your reminder was unnecessary. May I go now?”

Meredith looked past her at Trump, who was hovering at the top of the stairs. Trump held up a thumb. “You may. I will apologise in private later,” Meredith whispered.

“You might, if you’re lucky,” Patsy replied and followed Trump down the stairs.

Meredith went to stand behind French and listened to the end of the conversation.

“Honestly, I don’t know, Soph. But it looks that way. I’m with DCI Meredith now. Come here, he’ll be able to answer your questions better than I can. Look, do you want me to come and get you? Are you okay to drive? You sure? Okay, see you in ten.” French turned to Meredith. “She’s on her way in. Ten minutes.”

“Yes, I got that much. What did she have to say?” Meredith asked.

“She was on her way here when Brendon called and told her about the boss. I suppose I should stop calling him that. Anyway, she asked why Granville had resigned, so Brendon gave her his theory. She called Granville. It didn’t go well. She’s upset because she’d never even considered that it could have been him.”

“Too upset to drive?” Meredith asked.

“She says not, but she was a bit of a mess.”

“I’m not surprised. Stick around until she gets here. She might be grateful to see a friendly face.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Trump stepped forward as the door opened and Fran Granville smiled at them.

Trump held up his ID. “Mrs Granville? DS Trump. Is your husband at home?”

Fran frowned and looked at Patsy. “Hello again. Bob isn’t here. He’s at work.”

Patsy stepped forward. “May we come in?”

Fran’s hand flew to her chest as she stepped backwards. “Yes, of course. What’s happened? Why are you here?”

“I’ll explain as best I can once we’re settled. Where would you like us?” Patsy asked.

“In there. Is Bob okay? Oh god, just tell me.” Fran hovered in the doorway. “Where is he?”

“We thought he might be here. According to his team, he appeared to be distressed this morning, then handed in his notice and walked out. Chief Superintendent Ashworth has asked us to find him. Has anything been troubling him lately?”

“Are you suggesting some sort of breakdown? And it’s work. Always work. You never switch off. You know that better than anyone, because you even had him come and meet you on a Saturday lunchtime, when he should have been with his family.” Fran jabbed her finger at Patsy.

“He asked to meet us. We had to fit him into our day. You know that because we had to dash off.”

Fran frowned. “But he said…but why? You don’t even work with him.”

“No, we’ve reopened the investigation into the death of Corina Jones. We told you and you said she was a nice girl. Do you remember?” Patsy asked.

“Are you patronising me? Well, forget it, I’ve had a lifetime of putting up with copper speak. I put it to you, and I would suggest and the like. Yes, I bloody remember. The question was, why? I understand you needed to speak to him, he was her boss, but I don’t understand what was so urgent after all these years to disappear on a Saturday lunchtime, and I don’t understand why Ashworth would send you to look for him. So, I’ll ask again, why?“ Fran looked Patsy up and down and her nose wrinkled. “Did he come running because you gave him the eye, or flashed a bit of leg? Because he’s a fool for a pretty face.”

“I didn’t, no. That was only the second time I’d met him and I was with my husband. And—“

“Well, there’s a turn-up. He told me that and I thought he was lying. I suppose I should apologise to him. I was wrong. Another first. Let’s go back to the why you? Why not Alex or Rich?”

Patsy hoped her irritation with how she was being spoken to didn’t show. “Because we think it’s to do with the case.”

“Corina Jones? Why?” Her frown back. She dropped into an armchair.

“I can’t give you too much detail, as it’s an ongoing investigation, but your husband was very much involved with Corina’s life in the weeks before she died. We’ve been speaking to him and others about that, and that has upset him. We also believe he may have assaulted DC Dawson in the last twenty-four hours, although we’ve yet to speak to him about that.”

“Sophie? Assaulted Sophie? Don’t be ridiculous. What did she say?” Fran demanded.

“She’s being interviewed at the moment, so we don’t know. Do you know Sophie well?” Trump asked.

“I suppose so, as well as you ever know your husband’s team. The odd do, party, wedding. She seemed like a nice, if a somewhat dramatic woman, so I’m not sure if I’m surprised that she’d make this up.” Fran shrugged.

“You don’t think he would have hit her?” Trump asked.

“No. Bob would never hit a woman. We’ve had some humdinger rows, and he’s never lifted a finger. What could she have done to cause that?” Her eyes narrowed. “Do you know?”

“You’re assuming it must be her fault?” Trump inclined his head.

“I am. She must have seriously provoked him if he did assault her.” Fran was nodding. “It must have been serious, but I’m sure you’re wrong. I need to call him.”

“And you can, just a few more questions.” Patsy assured her. “Did you know Corina Jones?”

“A little. She wasn’t there long. Why?”

“I wondered if your husband had said anything about her while they were working together. We’re told they always seemed to be at loggerheads,.”

“Perhaps she was too outspoken for him. And loggerheads, just now you as good as told me they were having an affair. Or is that not what very much involved means?” Fran asked.

“So he did speak about her.” Trump smiled. “That’s what we’re hearing.”

“And what else are you hearing? So far you’ve suggested he hits women and now that he was having an affair with a junior officer. I think I’d like to speak to him now.”

“We didn’t say that. Has someone else suggested that?” Patsy asked.

“No, of course not.”

“Yet at the party, which both Sophie and Corina attended, just before you sang with them, you were accusing him of having an affair. From what we understand, it was quite a heated argument. We were also told that you had to rescue Sophie when he got angry with her.” Trump grimaced. “We’re told he grabbed her and forcefully dragged her away from the party. So you see, for us, it’s not such a great leap from grabbing her arm to hitting her. But we don’t know him. Who was he having an affair with?”

Fran flicked the air with a sweep of her hand. “That was me, overreacting. I’d had too much to drink. Must have done to get up and do karaoke.”

“Yet, you believed it to be true, and only minutes ago described him as being a fool for a pretty face,” Trump replied.

“Taken in by. Doing favours for. Not having an affair.”

“Fran, this is very serious. A girl was murdered, another assaulted, and now your husband has resigned and disappeared. Who did you think he was having an affair with: Corina or Sophie?” Patsy asked.

“Sophie? But…are you telling me he was having an affair with Sophie?”

“I’m not telling you anything, Fran. I’m asking you a question. If it was neither of them, who did you think it was?”

Fran was shaking her head. “Sophie? Really? That girl has been in my house too many times, if that’s the case.”

“Fran, you clearly didn’t think it was Sophie. Did you think it was Corina?”

“I didn’t think it was anyone, just someone. Too many late nights, too many feeble excuses, too many showers when he shouldn’t have needed one. Look, I’m going to ask you to…” Fran stopped speaking as the front door opened.

Patsy looked into the hall at the startled face of Bob Granville. “DCI Granville, we’d like a word, please.”

“It’s Mr Granville now, and you can fuck off.” Granville stepped out of the door, which slammed behind him.

Both Patsy and Trump jumped to their feet and headed for the hall. Trump turned the catch, but the door had been locked. He looked at Fran, who had her hand over her mouth.

“Keys. Now, please.” He held out his hand.

Fran lifted a set from a hook and selected the correct key with a shaking hand. Inserting it into the lock, she opened the door. Trump ran outside to see Granville’s car turning out of the street. He pulled out his phone as he went back into the house.

“Take a seat, Mrs Granville, I need to make a call.”

Fran allowed Patsy to lead her back to the living room.

“Linda. Is DCI Meredith about?”

“No. He’s with Rich and Sophie Dawson. Louie, you’ll never—“

Trump interrupted, “No time Linda. I’ll text him. Speak later.”

“What’s happened?”

“We were speaking to Mrs Granville when her husband came home. Told us where to get off and locked us in. He’s driven off. Not sure whether DCI Meredith wants us to put an alert out. Don’t interrupt him, I’ll text. We have a few more questions to ask here and then we’ll be back. Any news on the warrant?”

“In hand, but I haven’t had word yet.”

“Okay. I’ll see you soon. I have to go.”

As Trump walked into the sitting room, Fran Granville got to her feet.

“No more questions. I’d like you to leave now.”

“Understandable, but—“

“No buts, out! Now! Am I under arrest? Do you have a warrant to be here? No. So would you please, please, go.” Her voice broke. “I need to think about this. Maybe tomorrow. But not today.”

Trump nodded and reopened the front door. As Patsy walked past, she put her hand on Fran’s arm. “I’m sorry. This must be awful for you. If you do speak to your husband, please urge him to speak to us. He’s clearly not in a good place at the moment.”

Fran nodded and as Patsy stepped out of the house, she asked, “Was he…is he having an affair with Sophie?”

Patsy paused. “I can’t answer that for you. You need to speak to your husband.”

“So he was.” Fran slammed the door shut.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Linda put the phone down. “Skipper she’s downstairs. Room ten.”

Meredith got to his feet. “French. We’re on. Loopy, round up some sandwiches. I’m starving.”

“Will do. Will Rich be staying for lunch?”

“Why are you asking me? He’s standing in front of you.”

“I didn’t ask him because if you don’t want him to stay and hear your next briefing, you’ll be rude and kick him out. I was trying to save him that embarrassment.” Linda looked at French and tutted. “Rich, even if he does kick you out, which is a possibility, I’ll buy you some lunch and the skipper will be paying. What would you like?”

“Anything for me. I could eat a scabby horse on a bad day. I don’t want to be any trouble.” He glanced at Meredith. “And I wouldn’t be embarrassed. Disappointed, but not embarrassed.” He winked at Linda, who grinned at him.

“I’ll bring in some coffee and cake before I go. Skipper said you liked the last one.”

“If you two have finished flirting, can we get on?” Meredith asked, walking to the door.

When Meredith opened the door to the interview room, Sophie Dawson nodded a greeting, but when she saw French follow him in, her chin quivered and she got to her feet. Rich pulled her into a hug.

“No mucking about now, Soph. You know how this works, no holding back, no half-truths. If Granville killed Corina, you need to be totally honest.”

Sophie blinked and drew in a breath before patting his chest. “I know.” She looked at Meredith. “Can he stay? He might as well hear it from me rather than wait for Cookie to make something up.”

“If he wants to. He knows you a lot better than me, and he wants what happened to Corina solved as much as I do. French, if you’re staying, shut the door and let’s get on with it.”

French sat next to Meredith. Sophie’s mouth attempted to smile.

“You two look very comfortable there. Have you switched teams, Rich? If my life wasn’t such a god-awful mess, I would make a crack about it being very unfair to send two such handsome men in to interrogate me, but on a serious note, DCI Meredith, did Bob do this?”

“I don’t know. I’ll tell you the highlights of what I do know, and you can fill in the blanks. When we’re done, you’re going to come upstairs and, to the best of your knowledge, give me some more dates. I would tell you just to tell it as it was, and not to be embarrassed, but I don’t think you do embarrassed, do you?”

“Oh, I do it, I just don’t let it show. I also do hurt, betrayed, tantrums and absolutely effing fuming, but I have to survive in a man’s world, so I’ve learned to keep myself in check.” She drew in a breath. “Go on then, tell me the story so far.” She lifted her hand and wiped away the spittle from her lip. “This is a bastard. Do you know how hard it is to have a good cry with a thick lip?”

“We’ll get to that. First, tell me what Granville said when you called him earlier?” Meredith asked.

“I asked him if it was true. He said what did I think, I’d made his life a fucking misery, and I was now on my way to tell the golden knob more tales. That’s what he calls you. Then he told me to fuck off and hung up. I don’t think he likes you. In fact, I know he doesn’t.”

“Thank you. I’m wounded, but I’ll live. Can I start now, or have you got any other asides you’d like to throw in?” Meredith’s eyes twinkled.

“I don’t blush either. You may begin.” Despite her words, two dots of colour had appeared in the centre of her cheeks, and she looked away.

“Corina Jones was transferred to Bristol and partnered with French. She didn’t like living in a cupboard, so she accepted an offer of a room in your flat. You got on well. But not well enough for you to tell her when you began an affair with Granville. I’m guessing you didn’t tell anyone. He didn’t know.” Meredith jerked a thumb at French.

“Not something you boast about. Whatever your occupation, sleeping with the boss never goes down well,” Sophie told him.

“Then, for a reason which escapes me, on the eleventh of September, Granville invites you to a party at his house. You cause a scene, his wife rescues you, then has a major row with him accusing him of having an affair, although not with you, and she’s humiliated by having to do karaoke with the pair of you. I’m assuming, despite his return to the family home, your affair runs on quietly in the background. On the thirteenth September someone calls Corina, probably inviting her out, and she asks if his wife is coming. French witnessed that call and saw her reject several others. Then things step up a level, when on the eighteenth of September, you go off on leave to see your mum for a few days. The team get a good conviction, and Granville takes them out to celebrate. They all have a skinful and leave one by one. Last men standing were Granville and Corina. What happened we don’t know. French here has some theories from rape to sexual assault, but that’s all they are, theories. Granville told me it was merely a kiss, which Corina immediately regretted, as did he.” Meredith paused for comment.

“Carry on, please. I’ll make any corrections when you’re done, if that’s okay?” Sophie asked.

Meredith nodded and read through the next page of notes. “During the week after the kiss, you have a liaison at your flat with Granville, and Corina finds the tie pin, you give it back to Granville, he wears it to work, and the cat is out of the bag. Corina is furious, and she confronts both of you, but Granville really has to take it between the eyes and absorb it. Almost literally caught with his trousers down. I hear you both gave him a hard time, and he could do bugger all about it. On the twenty-sixth of September, Corina bails out of a dinner with her best mate, and won’t tell either of you where she’s been and gets caught out in a lie about having to work. Things then quieten down, other than giving Granville a hard time by challenging him. I don’t know if you were still sleeping with him then. You claimed it was over when he went back to his wife. I don’t think so, because what about the tie pin? But our timeline isn’t complete yet, so I’m keeping an open mind, but on the fourth of October, Corina is overheard having a shouted argument with him, where she accuses him of leading you on, hence my reluctance to believe your version of events. On the twenty-third of October you overhear her having a raised voice conversation. On the twenty-fourth she skips out on you and goes to meet Granville near Millenium Square.”

Sophie gasped. “I didn’t know that.”

“It’s true. He told me himself. Said he was probably responsible for the bruises on her arm, but not her face, and he didn’t kill her. We have CCTV of him entering the bar, and a witness who saw him leave well after she did. But he might have left earlier and gone back without our witness seeing him. We’re checking CCTV. Corina died shortly after leaving that bar, and you, knowing something was amiss, called it in.” Meredith drew in a deep breath. “How did I do?”

“Almost accurate for the bits I know. You looked like you had something else to add. Do you? Cookie also told me you’re joining dots and adding the death of DCI Fairweather to this.”

“I have some questions I need answered. As to DCI Fairweather, I’m still looking into that, but Granville didn’t push him, he was coming into the station as DCI Fairweather fell. Let’s put that aside. Would you like to give your version of events now?” Meredith asked. “We can end with what happened to your lip, because you weren’t at the gym this morning.”

“How do you know that?” Sophie asked.

“I asked. I thought you might lie.” Meredith shrugged. “So, over to you.”

“Can you ask your questions first? It might fill in some of your gaps, and I need to get my head around this. So, you don’t think DCI Fairweather died because he was working on Corina’s case? Driving here, I thought Bob had killed both of them.”

“I never said that. I said Granville didn’t do it.”

French sat up straight. “Then who else? Who do you…” He looked at Sophie, whose eyes widened. French held up his hands. “Sorry, I’m not here to ask questions.”

“What? You think I did it? Me? Why would I?” Sophie demanded.

“I think nothing without evidence. But I have to look at everyone involved. You were having an affair with Granville. You lived with Corina. Something happened between Corina and Granville. Fairweather was investigating Corina’s death. He died at the station where both you and Granville are based. If I drew a Venn diagram, your name would feature quite a lot. Hence my request for a meeting. Shall I ask my questions, or do you want to give your version of events?”

Sophie glared at him. “I killed neither of them. Ask away…Sir.” Her nose wrinkled and her fat lip rose as she hissed the title through clenched teeth.

Meredith’s phone beeped. He read the text he’d received and tapped out a response before flipping through his notebook and scanning his questions.

“I’m going to read them all out together, because one might cancel out another. We can always play catch-up. Is that okay with you?”

“Whatever you want, just get on with it. Please. Sir. You’re wasting time.” Sophie linked her fingers and rested her hands on the table separating them.

“If this is what Granville had to put up with from the pair of you, I’m surprised he didn’t take a jump off the scaffolding himself. Okay, because I hate time-wasting, when—“

There was a thump at the door, and he nodded at French to open it.

“Thanks, Rich. Better late than never, I got sidetracked, and…I’ll just leave this here.” Linda flashed a quick smile at Meredith, who didn’t look amused. “Daisy has done the lunch run. It’s ready when you are, but I know you…I’m gone.” She grimaced at Meredith who had cleared his throat, and with another smile for French and Sophie, Linda left them to it.

“Help yourselves. I’ll read this list out. When did the affair with Granville begin and end, or is it ongoing? If it’s not ongoing, have there been lapses? If so, when? Why did you phone Granville when Corina left you in the bath, and before she got to the bar? Did you know it was him she was going to see? Why did you tell us about Granville’s secret phone? What was the argument in the lift with Corina about? What date did Corina find the tie pin and then put two and two together? Is it likely that Corina told anyone else about your affair?” Meredith closed his notebook. “Do your best.” Meredith lifted a cup from the tray and loaded a slice of cake onto a plate. He nudged French. “Help yourself. We might be here a while.”

Sophie lifted a mug from the tray, added milk and sugar, and attempted to smile at him. “Do you want them answered in order?”

“Any way you like,” Meredith replied, biting into the cake.

Sophie sipped her coffee and closed her eyes for a moment. When she looked back at him, her distress was evident. “It began just after Corina moved in. He had separated from his wife then, but a few months later he went back to her. I ended it, but yes, there were lapses. We’re good together. I’m human, not a saint. But it was over before Corina died. I’ll explain that when I give you the order of events. Your understanding is wrong in places. I called him when Corina left to see if she had gone to see him. I’ll come to why later. He didn’t answer, so I left a message. I don’t know about the exact date of the tie pin fiasco, but it was after the party and after the kiss.“ She emphasised the word kiss and snorted, so Meredith jumped in.

“It was more than a kiss?” he asked.

“I haven’t finished answering your questions, yet. Sir. May I continue?”

The look of defiance was back, and Meredith waved his hand. “Of course. I apologise.”

“If Corina didn’t tell Harry or Tamsin, who else would she tell? One of the team? I doubt it. If Rich didn’t know, then neither Brendon nor anyone would have known, as she wasn’t particularly close to any of the others. Not to tell them that. Other than the dates you asked for, which I could guess at, but you probably know them better than me. How did I do? Sir.”

“Not bad. You can drop the attitude, you know. It has no effect on me and must be exhausting. I can see your distress. You’re allowed to be upset. Relax, lower those barriers, and tell me your version of what went on in the final months of Corina’s life.” Meredith gave a small smile and held her gaze as he nodded for her to begin.

Sophie drew in a breath and screwed her eyes shut. “I won’t cry,” she told him as she fought to control her emotions.

“Good, I haven’t got a hankie. When you’re ready. I’d say I’ve got all day, but Granville’s done a runner, so I should probably be elsewhere.”

Sophie’s head jerked up. “How do you know that? He could just be drowning his sorrows. He might be a self-centred bastard, and there are a lot of you about, but he’s a good copper. Resigning won’t have been easy for him.” She glanced at French, who nodded agreement.

Meredith tapped his phone. “We were questioning his wife when he arrived home. He told my officers to eff off when they said they wanted a word, locked them in the house and drove off.”

“Shit. He killed her, didn’t he?”

“Not the actions of an innocent man, granted. You were going to tell me what happened from your viewpoint. Let’s get that out of the way.”

“He made his interest known about a week after he left his wife. It was a Sunday, Corina was working, and he turned up with a black bag full of washing and asked if he could use the machine. We didn’t know he’d left home then. He put his washing on, I made him breakfast, and we talked. We got round to the why he’d left and…let’s just say he does a good line in my wife doesn’t understand me. By the time the washing was dried and folded, our affair had begun. He was staying in a Premier Inn and that’s where we used to meet. It was fun. The sex was good, and outside of work he’s different. Human. We got together about twice a week, sometimes more. After a couple of months, he suggested we should live together.” Sophie threw her hands up. “Two months, a lot of sex, but two months. I told him he was jumping the gun and what about work? I like my job, he liked his. Guess who would have got the short end of that arrangement? I’ll leave out the discussions, but a week later, he went back to his wife. Said she was threatening all sorts. The kids wanted him to go home, and it was cheaper than the hotel.”

“Cheaper than a hotel? Classy,” French muttered.

Sophie nodded. “Not exactly what I said when he suggested we carry on seeing each other, but close enough. He said if I didn’t want to live with him, and only wanted him for sex, he couldn’t see my problem.” Sophie sighed. “I did my best to stick to my guns, but as DCI Meredith suggested, there were lapses. Then we went to the party at his place. During the evening, everyone was in the conservatory, and I saw Fran standing with her hands on her hips, looking into the house through the kitchen window. She looked so mad. So I went in through the dining room, and he had Corina pinned up against the breakfast bar.”

“So that’s when he made a pass at her?” Meredith asked, and when Sophie nodded, added, “Tell us what happened.”

Granville held up the bottle of wine as Corina entered the kitchen.

“Come for a refill? Me too.” He topped up her glass but instead of giving it back to her, placed it on the breakfast bar. “Stay there, you’ve got…there we go.” He brushed a stray hair from her shoulder, replacing his hand as the hair floated away. “You look very beautiful tonight, Corina. You always look so lovely. But I’m sure you know that.”

“Thanks. But this is embarrassing, boss. How much have you had? I’d better get back.” Corina tried to step away, but he moved in front of her, pressing his body against hers and pinned her to the breakfast bar.

“I’m not drunk, Corina, I’m deadly serious. You must know what you do to me. What you must do to most men.”

“Boss, seriously, your wife is outside, the team are out there.”

“They’re having fun, and Fran, she’s probably pissed. What would you do if I kissed you?” Granville moved his face closer to Corina. “Those lips are driving me crazy.”

“Knee you in the nuts if she’s got any sense.” Sophie marched into the kitchen. “You really are a sleazy piece of work. What about my lips? Don’t they drive you crazy? Are you okay, Corina?”

Corina escaped and grabbed her wine. “All good. The boss has had one too many.”

“Yes, he has.” Sophie shoved her glass towards Granville. “I’ll have another. Think I might get drunk tonight. Are you drunk, Bobby boy, or were you being serious?”

Granville held up his hands. “Guilty as charged. Ladies, I apologise. Perhaps I’d better go on the wagon.” His hand shook a little as he filled up Sophie’s glass. “There you go, Sophie. Now, shall we get back to the party and brush this stupidity under the carpet where it belongs?”

Corina nodded and hurried away, choosing to sit with Joe and his partner. Sophie knocked back her drink and held out the glass.

“Another.”

“Take it easy, Soph. It was just a bit of fun.”

“Don’t lie, Bob, or I might tell Fran about the type of fun you like. Fill my glass up.”

Granville did as requested and as Sophie turned to leave, he grabbed her arm. “Be careful, Sophie. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

“I’m always careful. It’s you who seems to like danger. Well, guess what? You’ll be walking on eggshells all night. But let me warn you, if you go near her again, I’ll bring your world crashing down. She’s a nice girl. She doesn’t deserve to have you muck her about.”

Granville nodded, a smile playing around his lips as he stepped closer. “You didn’t want me, but I can’t have anyone else. Is that what you’re saying? Let’s meet tomorrow to talk about it. Same place.”

Sophie pushed him away, his wine sopping on his shirt. “In your dreams. Fuck off, Bob. You wouldn’t like me to make a scene.”

Granville watched her walk away. After a few minutes, he picked up his own glass and went to join the party. Sophie was aware he was watching her, so kept topping up her glass and toasting him. About an hour later, Joe’s boyfriend was taking charge of the music and chose an Odyssey track. Sophie tilted her head and listened to the lyrics before snorting loudly. She looked at Corina.

“Weekend lover? Is she mad? Who would want the leftovers?”

“No one sensible. Sit down, Soph, you look like you’re going to fall over.”

“I’m fine.” Sophie swung her glass back and forth. “Look, never spilt a drop. Anyone? Why would any woman make do with second best?”

Several laughed, some agreed with her, and Corina told her to sit down again. Granville marched across to her quickly and grabbed her arm, yanking her away from the main party. He placed his mouth close to her ear.

“Behave or go home,” he hissed.

“Get off me.” Sophie tried to yank her arm free.

“Look at me. I kid you not. Behave or this will end in tears. They won’t be mine. You’re making a fool of yourself.”

“Let go. You’re hurting me.” This time, wine slopped from Sophie’s glass over her arm as she tried to free herself.

“I’m warning you, if—“

“Bob, let her go. You’re hurting her.” Fran placed a hand on her husband’s chest and pushed him away. “That’s enough. Come on, Sophie, you’ve got wine on you, let’s go and clean you up.” With a cutting glance at her husband, she led Sophie back into the house.

The party continued with no one taking much notice, and Granville telling everyone to not let her drink any more.

“I’ll put the karaoke on. We’ve got four microphones. Prepare your vocal cords people.” David rummaged in the box under his chair.

“Karaoke. I love karaoke.” Sophie came back into the conservatory and Corina jumped to her feet.

“I’m calling a taxi. Let’s go home. I’ve had enough.” Corina placed her hand on Sophie’s arm.

Sophie pulled her into a hug. “Me too. I love you. But before we go, you’re singing with me.”

Despite Corina’s protests, the others clapped encouragement, and Sophie and Corina gave a mangled version of a Bananarama song. When it ended, Corina failed yet again to convince her to leave, and they even dragged Fran into the next song. It was worse than the first song, and this time Corina’s attempts to leave were successful. Once in the taxi, Corina grabbed her hand.

“Thank you for sticking up for me. That could have been embarrassing. What was the boss thinking?” She lay her head on Sophie’s shoulder.

“His dick. Isn’t that all men think about?” Sophie burst into tears. “I hate men. I fucking hate men. Do you know that?”

“No. I think you quite like them, but not the boss. Are you getting snot in my hair?” Corina sat up and pulled Sophie in to her. “Stop crying, Soph, you’ll look like shit tomorrow.”

“So, if that’s when he made a pass at her, what happened at the restaurant, do you know?” Meredith asked.

“Oh yes. And the phone calls that she rejected were from him. Corina told me all when she found the tie pin, which was after the restaurant, by the way.”

“Hi, honey, I’m home.” Sophie kicked off her shoes and walked into the living room. “I’ve had a bitch of…are you still in your PJs? How the other half live.”

“I am, but in my defence, I made a lasagne for dinner and cleaned the bathroom, and emptied the dishwasher. Madam need only collapse.”

“You’re the best flatmate, do you know that?” Sophie dropped down onto the sofa next to Corina. “What’s new?”

“Nothing much. Not unless you’re interested in the Pope visiting America. I’ve started reading The Girl on the Train. It’s good so far. Living up to the hype.”

“All very boring. I need more stimulation than that.”

Corina snorted. “I think you’ve had enough stimulation for one week. Or perhaps not.” Corina leaned forward and picked up a tie pin from the table. “I know this isn’t yours. Do you wait until I walk out of the door before you get a man in?”

“What can I tell you? You left me alone and went off to work without a thought for me. I had to do something.” Sophie snatched the tie pin. “I’m going for a bath. Put the oven on.”

Two days later, Corina waited for Sophie to get out of her car. She marched up to her and poked her shoulder.

“You’ve been sleeping with the boss.”

“Don’t poke me. I have not. We’re going to be late for the briefing. He won’t like that. Come on.” Sophie tried to walk past Corina.

“The briefing where he’ll be wearing the tie pin I found at the flat? That briefing?”

“Oh shit. What can I say? I’m a horrible person. I was weak.” This time Sophie got past Corina, who marched into the station with her.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Corina asked as Sophie jabbed the call button for the lift.

“Because.”

“Because what? Because you should have. Soph, I can’t believe it.” Corina covered her face with her hands, dropping them as the lift arrived. They stepped back to allow someone to step out.

“Because it’s over. Sort of. Because it’s my business and not yours. But mainly because I’m a bloody fool, but I know that, so I don’t need you pointing it out. Are you getting in here or not?”

Corina stepped into the lift, and the doors closed.

“You’re having an affair? But I slept with him when you were at your mum’s. Jesus.”

“You did what!” Sophie was shouting. “Last week?”

“How was I to know? If you’d told me, I wouldn’t have. YOUR FAULT!”

“You slept with him! What a bastard!”

“Keep your voice down. We don’t want the world to know we’re forming a fucking hareem.”

“But both of us. He told me he loved me. Fucking loved me. ARGH!”

“Hush we’re there.” The doors opened. “Morning, Sarge.”

“Girls.”

“He’s not a nice man.” Sophie looked at French. “Look at your face. You’re such a nice bloke. They’re not all like you, are they?” She looked Meredith in the eye.

“No. Some are total bastards, some make mistakes, not all are the same. So then the two of you set about giving him a hard, and I’ll add very deserved, hard time.”

“Not intentionally. Not really. We both had it out with him. That was fun. Then we both had a private word. A line was drawn, and we decided we were grownups, he was a bastard, we were stupid, but life goes on. After that it was just sort of as and when the need arose, and he needed reminding he wasn’t so clever. Corina was better at that than me. But I didn’t think he’d go as far as to kill her. I sometimes thought he enjoyed the sparring. He’s odd like that.”

“We can’t prove that yet. It’s all circumstantial at the moment.”

“But a hell of a lot of circumstances,” French muttered.

“Understatement of the year,” Sophie replied. “What else do you want to know?”

“If your story about what happened before Corina left that night is accurate, why did you think she would be with Granville? Why did you call him? Had Corina also had lapses?”

“It wasn’t a story, it was accurate. I called him because she’d disappeared once before. She lied to Tamsin about having to work and told me she was going out with Tamsin. It was just the once, but I thought she’d probably gone to see him. I asked. She denied it. But what I said about it being out of character was true. So where else would she be going? I called to warn him off. He didn’t pick up, and as you’ve now told me that she did meet with him, you can understand why he didn’t. I left a message. It was nasty, told him the home truths he’s heard many times before, and that I’d fuck up his life if he hurt her. Corina wasn’t as tough as me. She wasn’t in love with him, but she felt like a fool for being taken in by him. Don’t we all? She was embarrassed, hurting, and if she was going to see him, that would have led to more hurt.” Sophie closed her eyes. “Poor Corina.”

Meredith inclined his head. “But if you thought she was with him, why all the phone calls and why report her missing?”

“Because they were both ignoring me. I really was trying to warn her off. But I got really wound up thinking about them together, ignoring all my calls, despite the many promises we’d made to each other. So I hounded her and thought that if I set the alarm bells ringing it would cause them a little embarrassment, at the very least. But when I got into work the next morning and he said she’d probably turn up wearing the same clothes but she never did, I was glad I had, even if it was for the wrong reason. I’m not an angel, DCI Meredith, but nor am I a monster.”

“No. That goes for most of us, I think.”

“Except Granville.” Sophie nodded at French. “I’m sorry, I should have told you. I know you were trying to help her, and I told her to keep her mouth shut.”

“For the right reasons, though, Soph. What a bloody mess. But even after hearing all that, why kill her? What did she say to him that made him kill her? Even if she threatened to tell all, he wouldn’t be the first, and certainly not the last.”

“True. But time is romping on, and I have an ex-DCI to track down. Tell us about the lip.”

“He didn’t hit me. He asked to meet me last night, and he sounded desperate, so I went. He tried to tell me what I should say to you when you spoke to me again. I told him that anything that happened between us was private, and he should know better than anyone that I don’t tell tales out of school. I may have said it in a more suggestive manner than that. He grabbed my arm, I pulled away and fell into the wall. There were witnesses. We were in the pub across the road from my flat.”

“Thank you. Right, we’re done here. Sophie, anything else you’d like to share?” Meredith asked.

“I think that’s enough, don’t you?”

“Maybe. I need you to come upstairs and look at some dates. This would have been a lot easier if you’d told the full story the first time,” Meredith replied.

“I didn’t think it would make a difference. I didn’t know she’d met him that night, even though I suspected it, and I definitely didn’t think he killed her. Not for one minute did I think that. I’ll try with the dates, but honestly, if you say that’s when it was, I’ll believe you. I don’t write stuff like that down because I just remember. Although not ten years later, and you have my phone records, so you know as much as I do.”

“Okay, we’ll leave it there. But if he tries to get hold of you, I want to know about it. I’d ask you to convince him to come and talk to me, but that might wind him up. Please don’t tell him you think he killed Corina.”

“He won’t call me, but if he does, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thanks. French, there’s sandwiches with our names on them somewhere. Grab that cake before someone else gets hold of it.” Meredith headed up the corridor.

“Yes, Boss.”

Meredith stopped walking. “It’s Guv, not Boss,” he called and continued his journey as French grinned and picked up the tray.

“What was that about?” Sophie asked as she followed French down the corridor.

“I don’t know. But keep your fingers crossed.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Meredith walked back into the office and looked at Patsy. “What did he say?”

“To wait and see what Sophie said, then you were to take whatever action you thought appropriate, and let him know, but that he still expected to see you for a full update tomorrow morning.”

“Buck passing.” Meredith picked up a sandwich. “Any news from Kent and George?”

“Not as yet. They would have called if they had anything crucial. What are you going to do about Granville?”

“Wait for the warrant. I’m not wasting time chasing about all over the place, and it’s a bit soon to do an appeal.” Meredith looked at French. “What do you think?”

French shrugged. “At the moment, I’d say it depends on whether you want him dead or alive. He’s clearly unbalanced, and if he killed Corina, he knows you’re closing in. He might think it’s not worth getting caught, because he knows what would await him if he’s jailed. Do you think he’s likely to have his passport,? Did he go to work knowing what he was going to do? Did he pack a bag?”

Meredith looked at Patsy again.

“I don’t think he did. His wife was genuinely shocked. If he did, why did he come back to the house? From the little I’ve picked up about him, it wasn’t to say goodbye or even sorry. Or perhaps it was. Perhaps knowing Sophie and French were coming here, he decided to be honest. She might know where he’d go, though. But I doubt she’d welcome me or Louie back. Can we chase the warrant?” Patsy looked across to Linda.

“I know Uncle David loves me, but you can’t give me all the rubbish jobs. Tell ’em, Louie. Anyway, it takes hours, but you do have to call him, Skipper. And, if you tell him what’s what now, you might get out of seeing him tomorrow.” Linda grinned when Meredith grabbed another sandwich and groaned.

“Loopy, stop being logical. It’s not like you. French, eat. If this warrant isn’t ready, you’re coming to charm the wronged wife.”

Taking his sandwich, Meredith collected his cigarettes and left the office.

“Where’s he going?” French asked.

“Carpark,” Linda replied. “When the skipper is dealing with stuff he doesn’t want to, he goes to the carpark with his cigarettes. Patsy will tell him off when he gets back. He’ll apologise and promise to give up, then the whole thing starts again.” Linda wound her finger in a circle.

The door opened and Seaton walked in. He looked at everyone standing around, the abundance of food that Linda had purchased, and held out his hands.

“What’s going on? The guv is marching around the carpark with a sandwich and a fag, and you lot are up here having a party.”

“Tom, how are you? How’s Sue?” Linda asked. “You’re obviously not here for work. The skipper wouldn’t approve of jeans.”

“All goodish. Getting there. Alright?” Seaton nodded at French. “I take it I can help myself. I’m out on errands, so thought I’d pop in and say hello. Now, I’ll eat. You can tell me the latest.”

Trump laughed and pointed at Seaton. “DCI Meredith might be back, but you sounded just like him again. How far have you got?”

They spent the next ten minutes updating Tom as Meredith paced the carpark.

“Meredith, what news?”

“Not much that’s new, except Granville did more than kiss Corina. The two girls worked it out and gave him hell. He didn’t give Dawson the thick lip, but he warned her about saying too much to me. Calls me the golden knob, apparently. George and Kent are trying to work out what, where and who with the scaffolding, so we have the full picture, and Trump and Hodge have managed to upset his wife. So I need a warrant to see if he’s got his passport with him. French thinks he might do something stupid if he sees his face on the news.”

“Do you think he did it? It’s certainly looking that way.”

“Him or Dawson. Yes. I need to speak to him again.”

“Dawson? Why Dawson?”

“Because taken at face value, she’s the last person anyone would expect it to be. She’s admitted she only raised the alarm because she thought Corina must have gone to see him, and as they were both ignoring her calls, she decided to stir up trouble. What if she followed Corina? Who knows, that bar might be a favourite meeting place for Granville and she made a lucky guess. Saw them together. They had a row once Corina left and Corina ends up in the harbour. Jealousy. Simple as that. Fairweather might have suggested this, and she pushed him off the scaffolding. Or Corina fed up with Granville bothering her, which he had been before he got into her knickers, perhaps gave him some form of ultimatum. We still haven’t found any evidence that he left the bar before Canter saw him leave, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t. We didn’t even know he was there until he told us. It’s all theory at the moment. I have no evidence to prove any of it. Maybe Corina did fall in accidently after knocking her head, and Fairweather was stupid enough to try to recover his lighter. We might never know. But to help me find out, I need that warrant to search his house, and I need to find him. That’s where it is, and with all due respect, you dragging me into your office to blame me for what another copper might have done is a waste of my time. Sir.” Meredith smiled as he said the last word, knowing the hell the two girls had put Granville through.

“And when do you think it might be convenient for you to see me?” Ashworth asked.

“Never is the truthful answer, because you’re either bollocking me or giving me a case I don’t want. If we carry on like this, Granville’s might not be the only resignation you’re getting today.”

“Yes, you’ve made that threat before. I continue to live in hope. You say French said Granville might try to what? Kill himself? Is that what he said?”

“Yes, as he pointed out, if Granville killed her, and knows we’re on to him, would he want to spend the rest of his natural behind bars with blokes he’d put there? Don’t think I would.”

“Hmm. Fair point. What do you think of French? I’ve put Game in temporary charge for the time being. He’s been Granville’s second for a while. Hope he’s not cut from the same cloth. They haven’t got that much on, but I could do without this.”

“Do without what? An officer murdering another officer because he was shagging two of his team at the same time. I think you’re lucky he resigned.”

“I don’t need you to point out the obvious, Meredith. I need you to answer the question.”

“French seems like a sound officer. His opinion is considered, he pays attention to the details of a situation. Although, having said that, he didn’t realise what Granville was up to, so he might still be a bit wet behind the ears. If you’re asking what I think you’re asking, he could lead a small team. He actually asked for a job here in CCRT. Proving I can’t be that bad.”

“He doesn’t know you.” Ashworth tittered at his own humour. “I’m speaking to the chief constable later. Who knows, Meredith? She might offer you the job.”

“And I’d respectfully decline. Tell her that because it’ll save everyone’s time.”

“I will. The trouble is, I don’t think we’ve even got a suitable DI to move across, let alone a DCI. Bloody nuisance, the whole shooting match.”

“Well, she’s saving on Granville’s salary. Perhaps you should promote someone. But if you don’t—“

“Louie, you mean. Hmm, food for thought.”

“No, I meant Game or French or some other bugger from somewhere else, but yes, Trump could do it. I’m going now before I say something else I regret.”

“Keep me posted.”

Meredith hung up and lit another cigarette. Angry with himself for making a suggestion that led to the possibility of losing Trump, and angry with himself because he was being selfish. Given it was highly likely he’d lose Seaton, he didn’t want Trump to go at the same time. He might just punch Granville when he caught up with him.

“I don’t know what Uncle David said, but the skipper’s off the phone and still smoking, although he’s stopped stomping about now.”

“Linda, do you have no other work you can do, my sweet?” Trump asked. “How’s the FaceTime search going?”

“Slowly. And I’m having a lunch break. But if you’d like me to get on with it, I’ll leave you to clear this lot up,” Linda retorted. “I don’t know why the skipper doesn’t get on with Uncle David. He’s so lovely.”

French was following the conversation and frowning. He guessed Uncle David and the chief super were one and the same, but couldn’t work out whose uncle he was. Certainly not Meredith or Linda’s. He decided not to ask.

Linda finished stacking the plates. “I’ll cover these and leave them in the fridge. If you’ve got to go chasing after Granville, it might be a late night.”

“What might?” Meredith asked.

“Skipper, how do you do that? You are a ninja! You were smoking two seconds ago. Two cigarettes. Patsy won’t be happy with you.”

“Then don’t tell her. Where is she?” Meredith asked. “Seaton, where did you come from? Please, please tell me I’m not going back into that carpark again. Don’t think my lungs will take it.”

“You’re alright, Guv. Relax. Flying visit. Well done. I was just congratulating the team. You’re almost there. Just need that last piece of the puzzle.”

Linda nudged French. “That’s what the skipper says when he thinks he knows who did it but needs the last bit of evidence. If it weren’t for you lot being able to walk in without notice, that board would be a list of questions.”

Meredith leaned over and took a sandwich from the tray. “What Loopy is trying to say is that she’s the one who usually finds the last piece, so you can congratulate her. Seaton, did you need me?”

“No, Guv, you get on. All being well, you might see me on Monday.”

Meredith beamed. “At last, some good news. Come on, French, you can drive. Trump, I want a list of questions on that board when I get back. Loopy needs inspiration. And try to get an update from Kent and George. Not like them to maintain radio silence for this long. I want to know if Dawson was in the building the day Fairweather died. And if that bloody warrant gets sorted, pick it up pronto and get it over to me. When Hodge returns, get her over to Fairweather’s wife. I take it we’ve not heard back from her?”

“Not yet, no. Do you want me to go with her?”

Meredith pursed his lips. “No, suggest it, though. I think she’d have something to say about that. It is only a grieving widow. French, we should be on our way.”

As French drove out of the carpark, he asked, “Was it bad news from the chief super, then? Why did they all ask Tom how he was? And whose uncle is the chief super?”

“That’s a lot of questions.” Meredith pulled his phone from his pocket.

“Just getting my bearings. You don’t have to answer. I’m naturally nosy.”

“Not a problem. First, it’s always bad news when Ashworth wants to talk to me. He’s Trump’s uncle, so I usually delegate to Loopy, because Trump avoids him like the plague, and Loopy thinks he loves her, so likes speaking to him. How do you think she got the nickname? Tom’s wife has recently been diagnosed with MS. He’s on leave getting the house sorted, as much as he can. It was a shock for both of them. Anything else?”

“How do you want to handle Fran?”

“You have a think, and we’ll discuss it. I’ve got a call to make.” Meredith waved his phone.

“Will do.”

Meredith scrolled through his phone and hit the call button. The answer service picked it up. Meredith sighed.

“Bob, it’s Meredith, or golden knob, as I believe you prefer. What’s going on? First you resign, then you do a runner. If you were telling the truth, and are innocent, you’re certainly not acting like it. If, of course, you lied, because I now know you’ve told me a few porkies, don’t be a wanker. I’ve heard some very unsavoury things about you, but none of them told me you were a coward. Come in, or if you like, call me before there’s more music than necessary to face. You don’t want your kids seeing your face on the six o’clock news.” Meredith hung up. “Do you think he will?”

French frowned. “Did you hear me when I said he might do something stupid? That’s what I think. He might.”

“I did hear you, and I gave it due consideration. I lied just then. I think he is a coward, and it takes guts to top yourself. If he had any balls, he would have dealt with those girls differently. He was in the wrong, but he had a job to do. The job comes first in all but the most dire of situations. He compromised that by letting them take the piss. They were justified, and I’m actually quite pleased they gave a little shit back to him, but he should have told them to grow up, shut up or ship out. They were consenting adults. He was their boss, even an idiot knows that rarely ends well. And, as he was continually putting his marriage on the line, he also knew the consequences of getting caught. If I’m wrong, I’ll probably regret it, but that doesn’t happen often, so I won’t lose any sleep yet. Why are you smiling?”

“Because you’re probably right. I did wonder why he didn’t blow a fuse sometimes. And, as I understand it, Patsy used to work for you.”

“She did. But I’m me, and he’s not. And I wasn’t married when we got together, and if I’d have treated her like Granville treated them…I can’t finish that sentence because I wouldn’t have. But I haven’t always been a saint. So far from it, I’m ashamed of myself. But I’ve always had the balls, golden or not, to put my hands up to my failings. I’m hoping he’ll do the same. Time will tell. Any more questions?”

“Just one. Was the overprotective thing with Patsy to do with the Deacon case?”

“Expand.” Meredith shifted his body to look directly at French.

“Sorry. I’ve pissed you off. Ignore me.”

“No, you haven’t. I’m interested, and yes, you are very nosy. Probably makes you a good detective. Tell me why you asked that.”

“Because before they went to Granville’s house, you told her to keep out of the way if it kicked off, and then Trump asked if you wanted him to go out with her. But you know that’s why I asked.”

“And you think that was being overprotective?”

“Not for a husband, but yes, probably for a boss.” French shrugged. “Not judging, just being honest.”

“That’s what she says, but in the time I’ve known her, she’s been shot, run over, been caused to miscarry, kidnapped and damn near killed by Deacon. She’s my dire circumstance. The job will never take precedence over her. If I’d had my way, I’d be mowing the lawn, or learning how to paint gloss without it running, but she put her foot down and refused to resign. The deal is she never goes out alone, which she did on most of those previous occasions. I think the novelty is wearing off for her. But it isn’t for me. Why am I telling you all this? Stop asking questions and tell me how you think we should approach this meeting?”

“That was the last one. I think we should be gentle with Fran. She loves him, she’ll be scared, and very defensive if she thinks he has killed Corina. And however he’s treated her in the past, or how much she does or doesn’t know, she’s stuck with him. So we need to come at it as though we are trying to help him, not lock him up and throw away the key.”

“Okay, I’ll let you do the talking.”

“Okay, but two more questions. Both to do with the case.”

“Go on then. You talk more than Seaton.”

“Why do you want a warrant to search the house? What is it you’re hoping to find after all this time? And do you really think Soph could have killed Corina and Fairweather?”

“I want his laptop or computer or any other phone he might have stashed. We have no record of how he knew Fairweather was coming in to see him. Fairweather didn’t call Granville at home, on his mobile or even the station in the two days before he died. They must have communicated somehow. As for Dawson, I once arrested a sweet old lady for murdering several people. Nancy thought her sister had been murdered and not committed suicide. Turned out she was right. But to get my attention, because no one would listen to her, she kidnapped one of my officers So, yes, I do think a woman is capable of that. Sophie Dawson isn’t even a sweet old lady. She’s a savvy police officer who would know how to cover her tracks. Time will tell, and I think that time is fast approaching, fingers crossed.”

“Enough said. It’s the white one on the left.”

French led the way to the front door, which opened before they reached it.

“Rich, what’s going on? Bob isn’t answering my calls. I think…Oh it’s you.” Fran Granville spotted Meredith and stopped speaking.

“I’m afraid so, Fran, may we come in?”

Fran looked hesitant and French stepped forward and placed his hand on her arm.

“Come on, Fran, this has to be done.”

“I know. Come on in. I’ve been worried sick.” Fran stepped back into the hall.

“Thank you, I’ll put the kettle on. Which way is the kitchen?”

“Straight ahead.”

Meredith lifted the kettle and filled it at the sink. He looked out at the conservatory and thought about how awful it must have been for Fran to watch her husband propositioning Corina. He flipped the switch on the kettle and nodded at French, who was sitting at the table with Fran, his hand over hers.

“There’s no easy way to say this, Fran, but evidence in connection with Corina’s murder has thrown up some questions that the boss needs to answer. And I’ll be honest, it’s not looking good, but we won’t know how bad until he answers those questions. It’s clear you haven’t heard from him since he locked you in, so how was he this morning? I’m worried about him.”

“He’ll land on his feet, he always does. You don’t need to beat about the bush, because I know he was having an affair with her, and now I know about Sophie, too. He invited them both to this house. My home! But this morning he was the same as usual, grumpy.”

“What did you talk about?”

“Are you not going to tell me how sorry you are? How the wife is always the last one to know.”

“Would it help?” French shrugged. “I am sorry, of course I am. I only found out myself about Corina today, and Sophie when they reopened the investigation. We’re all reeling about it, but yes, I’m sorry for you, but it doesn’t help.”

Fran looked at Meredith who was dropping teabags into mugs. “Why didn’t you leave well alone? Do you know what I’ve done for that man, what I’ve had to put up with? But we might have survived it. Not now. There’s no coming back from this.”

“It won’t help, but I didn’t choose it. I don’t get to choose. Why don’t you answer Rich’s questions, and we’ll see if we can limit the damage.”

“How? How can you do that?” Fran looked at French for guidance, but Meredith answered.

“If he doesn’t come in, or at least call in, we’re going to have to go public. Your kids don’t want to see their dad’s face on the telly.”

Fran’s hand covered her mouth.

“Did he take his passport with him? Is it here?”

Fran jumped to her feet. “You think he’s going to slink off into the sunset? He’d better bloody not. He needs to pull his shoulders back and take some responsibility for the hurt he’s caused. Stay there.”

The two men listened to her run up the stairs.

“Ask her about a computer and then any other phones he might have. If we get lucky, we might not need that search warrant.” Meredith placed the mugs on the table and ladled sugar into his own as Fran reappeared. She handed Granville’s passport to French.

“You’d better keep hold of that. He might come back.”

French slid it into his pocket. “Thank you. Did he have a personal phone, you know, one he could use without work calling him all the time?”

“I know about the phone you’re after. I’m not as stupid as he thinks and he’s not as clever as he thinks he is. He keeps it in the boot of the car. But he’ll have it with him. Although, I don’t think he’s using it at the moment.”

“You’ve checked it?” French asked.

“Of course. That’s how I found out about Corina. If he is using it, he’s deleting everything again. What else do you need to know?”

“Computers. Do you have a laptop or a computer that he uses?”

“Yes, in the front bedroom. We use it as a study. Why?” Fran asked.

“Standard procedure. They’ll want to go through his emails.”

“He doesn’t use it much. Take it. I do everything on my phone these days.”

“Are you okay with us doing that now?” French asked.

Fran’s shoulders twitched. “Why not? My life is already a shambles. You must think I’m weak, and I want to hate him so badly, Rich. I don’t know why I’m so frightened of losing him. You know I’ve tried so hard to keep him, and now you might take him away. I think I’d rather he died. How awful is that?” Fran tore some kitchen roll off and dabbed her eyes. “A bloody shambles is what it is.”

“Fran, I have to ask, but around the time Corina died, can you remember him acting strangely? Doing anything out of the ordinary?” Rich asked.

“We had a row about her, so he was stroppy with me. We were barely speaking, and I might as well tell you now, if you don’t already know, of course, he was out the night she died. When he came home from work the next day, he told me she’d disappeared, and when they found her body, he asked if I was satisfied now. And do you know the awful thing? I was.” Fran lowered her head. “I’m sorry.”

“No need. Where did he tell you he’d been on the night she died?” Meredith asked.

“Out. It was a standard response when I was angry. Every time I knew he was up to something, I’d tell myself not to get wound up. To stay calm. I rarely managed it, so I ranted, and he grunted one-word answers,” Fran replied.

“Did it ever occur to you he might have hurt her? Has he ever hurt you? I hear he has a temper.” Meredith kept his voice low and steady.

Fran shook her head. “Not intentionally. No.”

Meredith thought about Sophie Dawson’s thick lip. That hadn’t been intentional, if she was telling the truth. “Do your children still live at home?”

“No. Why? He’d never hurt them.” Fran looked disgusted at the suggestion.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t, but he might be with them, and we’re going to have to make a move. It would be better if you had someone with you,” Meredith replied.

“No, I don’t want anyone here. The minute you walk out that door, I’m going to have a major tantrum. Better done in private. I’ll be okay. I’ll call them later.”

“If you’re sure, I’ll leave my card. Call me if you need me. If only to ask questions I can’t answer. If Bob does get in touch, tell him to contact us.” Meredith slid his card across the table. “Now you show French where the computer is and then jot down the children’s names and addresses for me.”

Meredith pondered what she’d said as they went upstairs. It was looking more by the minute like Granville had done it. Tutting, he collected the cups and took them to the sink to rinse them. Fran appeared behind him.

“Rich has gone to the car. You don’t need to do that. I guess I’m not cooking his dinner tonight, so I’ll need something to do.” Fran pushed him aside with her elbow.

“Habit. I’m well trained. That’s a lovely conservatory. I’ve always fancied one, but our house is big enough for just the two of us. Might have got round to it if we’d had kids.”

“Well trained and no kids. She looked the type to have everything under control. Not like me.”

“Fran, you know the affairs probably have nothing to do with you, not personally. Bob’s decisions are made about him, for him. He wouldn’t still be here if it was about you. Yes, it’s selfish and hurts you, but if it was your fault, he’d be long gone.”

“Don’t defend him, and as for gone, he’s gone now.” Fran gripped the sink and stared into the conservatory.

“All loaded, Guv,” French said as he came back into the kitchen.

“Have you got the addresses?” Meredith nodded as French waved a folded sheet from a notebook. “Then we’ll be off, Fran. Get someone in to be with you after you’ve had your tantrum. Don’t forget you have my number.”

To Meredith’s surprise, she threw her arms around him, clamping his arms to his side.

“Thank you. I won’t shoot the messenger. You’re a good man.”

Chapter Twenty-Five

Patsy pulled up outside the pretty stone cottage and sighed. The traffic had been a nightmare and taken her far longer than she’d allowed. She hurried up the path.

“Is it Patsy? I’m over here.” Julie Fairweather pushed herself to her feet and pulled off her gardening gloves. “I expect you got stuck in those roadworks on Bath Road. Everyone does. After you.” Julie pushed the door open, dropped her gloves onto the telephone table in the hall, pointed into the living room and waved at the armchair. “Take a seat. Jamie’s been dead almost ten years, so I’m not sure how I can help.”

Patsy sat down. “Thank you, yes, the traffic was horrendous. Thanks for allowing me to come at such short notice.” She pulled out her tape recorder. “Do you mind?” When Julie shook her head, she hit the record button. “Do you remember anything about the Corina Jones case?”

“Some, yes, of course. It was his last case. But although he shared the odd snippet, I doubt I’ll be able to remember any details.”

“It’s more how he worked it, really. I understand he used FaceTime, is that correct?” Patsy asked.

“It is. Yes. But not for work. God no. I would have explained that to the chap who called, but you know what waiting rooms are like. Jamie didn’t like it, but the kids did, so sometimes he had no choice. Why would you think he used it for work, and even if he did, how could I help? Do you want a drink?”

“No, thank you. I should have explained. We have reopened the Corina Jones case, and we think DCI Fairweather was close to solving it. It’s why he was at her station on the morning he died. It might seem odd, but his team thinks he was on to something, because he was pacing, and he only ever paced when he was close to solving the case.”

Julie was nodding. “Correct. He nearly wore a hole in the hall carpet on many occasions. I used to tell him he should claim for a new one on expenses. He never did, of course.”

“Ha! I doubt it would have been paid. My husband goes into the garden with a packet of cigarettes,” Patsy replied.

“I expect that’s because he’s organised and charges his mobile. Jamie was useless. He’d never claim for the landline either. Used to spend hours out in that hall. He’d tell me he did it to avoid watching the rubbish I had on television, but he was a workaholic. Never switched off. I hope yours isn’t that bad.”

“Mine’s lucky, I work with him, so most of the time I’m in agreement,” Patsy replied.

“Work with him? Well, I’ve never heard of a husband and wife team before. Don’t you get fed up with him?”

Patsy smiled. “I don’t think I’ll ever reach that point. But back to Jamie. Did he make a lot of work calls on your landline?”

“I’d say every day, it probably wasn’t that bad, but not far off.”

Patsy smiled. “That explains it. He was due to meet one of Corina’s teammates on the day he died, and we couldn’t trace any calls to them or to the station. Would you mind—“

“Oh yes. I seem to remember him saying. He was sitting there watching the television with me, and he jumped to his feet. I asked if he’d been bitten as he moved so fast. He said, ‘Only by knowledge, I hope. Fingers crossed, but I need to speak to her’. Then he was out there, pacing up and down. I didn’t ask, because I didn’t want to interrupt my programme.”

“And that was the night before he died?”

“It was, yes. It was his last night and I left him down here snoozing and went to bed with my book, and he was up and out before I’d woken up. That was almost the last conversation we had. Other than me telling him to go to bed, and him saying he was thinking. I always wished it was something more poignant, you know.” Julie’s mouth drooped, and she sighed.

“I’m sorry to drag your memories back to then.” Patsy reached across and patted her hand.

“Don’t be. I enjoy thinking about him. I’m going to be a granny, you know, so I can’t wait to have someone new to speak to about him. I’m hoping it’s a boy. Sam says he’s going to name the baby Jamie whatever gender it is, but I want a boy. He might look like him.”

“Congratulations. I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you. Now—“

“Yes, you can have copies of the telephone records, although I don’t know how to get them that far back. Was I right?”

“You were. I wish all witnesses were like you. We’d solve cases in half the time. All I’ll need is a copy of your phone bill. You might get a call asking to give us permission.”

“Would it be easier if I gave you the password to the account? I know you won’t change anything.” Julie asked.

“Even better,” Patsy replied.

“Wait there.”

Julie returned minutes later with a copy of the phone bill. Patsy photographed it and noted the password, before thanking her and leaving her pulling her gardening gloves back on.

Once in the car. Patsy connected the recorder to her tablet and called the office.

“Only me, Linda. I’ve spoken to Julie Fairweather, and he used the house phone. The traffic on the Bath Road is a nightmare, so I’m sending the recording across. There, done. When I hang up, I’ll send you a copy of her phone bill. Password on the account is Jamie, one, four, six, exclamation. She said to ring if we have any issues. Wish me luck with the traffic. How did Meredith get on?”

“Okay, he’s on his way to see what the holdup is with George and Will. Said he might need to bang some heads together. He got the addresses of DCI Granville’s children and Louie is on the way to see the son, and then on to the daughter. I’ll warn him about the Bath Road, because she lives in Brislington. It’s at times like this we really miss Tom.”

Patsy logged into the system as Linda was bemoaning being short-staffed and checked the location. “That’s not far from here. Fifteen minutes, traffic willing. I’ll go. There’s no point in Louie dragging himself all the way out here when I’m almost on the doorstep. I’ll just text that bill to you and I’ll be off.”

“Patsy, don’t do it. The skipper will be so mad if you go off on your own.”

“I’m going to see another female. Linda, get off the phone, and don’t huff like that. I’ll take the blame.”

“Yes, but what if he’s there?” Linda asked.

“What do you think he will do? Kill me in front of his daughter? He’s not Deacon, Linda. We don’t know that he’s killed anyone yet.”

“I don’t like it, Patsy. I don’t like it at all.”

“I’m not asking you to. I’ll ring when I get there, and when I’m leaving. How’s that?” Patsy asked.

“Not good enough, but you won’t listen to me, will you?”

“No. Meredith owes me an apology, so this will cancel it out. Now get off the phone. I wasn’t lying about the traffic. I’d like to get home before bedtime tonight.” Patsy hung up, sent the text, and set the satnav for Gemma Granville. She wondered if Linda would phone Meredith, but knew she’d probably be with Gemma Granville by the time Meredith knew about it.

It took her a while to find a parking space. She then had to work out how to access Gemma’s front door. The house was set high above the road level, and access was via steps at one end of the row of houses hidden behind a curved wall. Patsy tried the bell, which didn’t sound, so used the tarnished brass knocker. She waited a few moments and then knocked again.

“Hang on, hang on!” A female voice called from inside before the door was opened by a young woman in cutoff jeans and a tie-dyed T-shirt, with half a head of foils. “Yes?”

Patsy held up her ID. “Gemma Granville?”

Gemma leaned forward and squinted at the ID. “Haven’t got my glasses on. Sorry, as you can see, I’m busy. Just tell me what you want. Whatever it is, the answer is going to be no, so…hang on.” Gemma pulled her phone from her pocket. “Mum, what’s wrong, you sound…what do you mean the police? He is a police officer. I…Hang on, don’t hang up.“ Gemma returned her attention to Patsy. “No, thank you.” She closed the door.

Patsy strolled back to her car. Wherever Granville was, he wasn’t with Gemma. She called the office.

“Patsy, that was quick.” Linda huffed out a stream of air. “That saves us both a telling off. I take it she wasn’t in?”

Patsy gave a résumé of the conversation. “So I’m as sure as I can be without searching the house, that not only is he not there, but she had no idea why he might be.”

“Well, I’m just glad you’re on your way back. Got to go, other line ringing. Daisy’s in the loo. Bye.”

Patsy smiled and slid her phone back into her bag and started down the steps to the road. As she cleared the last one, Granville grabbed her elbow. His fingers dug into her flesh, and she winced as her heart pounded.

“Keep walking, Mrs Meredith. Don’t mind if I call you that, do you? More personal. Or shall I call you Patsy? You can call me Bob.”

“What do you want? Are you coming in with me? Meredith is expecting you.” Patsy was surprised at how calm she sounded despite her heartrate.

“I try not to swear in front of ladies, so let’s leave it at no. This way.” Granville tried to lead her away from the road.

Patsy stopped walking. “My car is the other way. I don’t think so.”

Granville’s grip tightened on her arm and he forced her forward. “Let’s go for a walk. I want to talk to you. There’s a park up here.”

Despite the pain in her arm, Patsy stopped again. “Forget it.” She looked around. There were no pedestrians, and the wall built around the curve of the steps shielded them from the road.

“I won’t hurt you, Patsy. Relax and keep walking. Your husband has had a chat with my wife. I’d like a chat with you.” He tried to force her forward again, and she yelped as her arm was twisted behind her.

“You’re a liar, Granville. That hurts, but you’re going to have to hurt me more than that if you want me to listen to you. Was it an accident? Corina’s death. Is that what you want to tell me?”

Granville relaxed his grip. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t intentional.”

Patsy saw the man jogging towards them and turned to face Granville. She might have a chance of escape, but when the man trotted out of sight, she decided to reason with Granville. “If you’re serious about not hurting me, let me call Linda. I just told her I was on my way back.”

Granville hesitated for a moment and smirked. “What the hell, go on then. I’ll have said my piece by the time Meredith or the cavalry get here. Might even have time to slip away.” Granville released her arm.

Patsy rummaged in her handbag, while in there she hit the record button on the recorder and checked a zip tie was in the pocket near the top of the bag. She pulled out her phone.

“Put it on speaker,” Granville instructed.

Patsy did as requested and they listened to the sound of ringing.

“Patsy, I thought you were coming back. Has something happened?” Linda asked.

“You could say that. Granville was waiting for me. He’s insisting we go for a walk in…what’s the name of this park?” she asked Granville.

“Victory Park. That’ll do. We should press on.” Granville pulled on her arm, and she fell into step with him.

“Oh my God. The skipper is going to go apeshit, when he—“

Releasing her elbow, Granville snatched the phone and hung up. “There, everyone now knows where you are.” He handed back her phone.

Although she had relaxed a little, when Patsy replaced the phone, she pulled the zip tie from the pocket and, folding it in her hand as best she could, shoved her hand in her pocket. “Look, my car is around the corner. Can we just sit in there and talk? You can have my keys.”

“No, because my car is on the other side of the park. I might decide I don’t want to be fitted up.”

“That’s what you think we’ll do?” Patsy asked as he took her elbow again. This time, she didn’t resist.

“That’s what I think Meredith will do. I can see the circumstantial evidence looks damning. He likes results. He doesn’t like me.” Granville grimaced. “Don’t know why? I was listening to my messages when I saw you knock on Gemma’s door. Your husband called me a wanker, and my wife asked why she didn’t marry a man like him. Did I say something amusing, Patsy?”

“First, Meredith would never charge anyone unless he was convinced they’d committed the crime, and second—“

“Oh my, please don’t further sing his praises. You’ll have me weeping for doubting him,” Granville sneered.

“As I was saying, and second, he doesn’t like you because you remind him of him. It might be a while back, but it still shames him. Although, to the best of my knowledge, he never slept with two members of his team at the same time.”

“Ah, you know about Corina. Perhaps he didn’t get the opportunity. It wasn’t planned and it was a mistake. Sophie said she didn’t want me, Corina responded to my advances. I’m weak. Meredith is obviously made of stronger stuff.”

“Actually, I think his expression was something about shitting on his own doorstep, but we’re not here to talk about Meredith, are we? What do you want to say?”

“I didn’t kill Corina. I met with her that night because she was driving me crazy at work. Sophie was bad enough, but Corina was like a thing possessed. Fran thought we were having an affair, we weren’t. It was a one-off, so I tried to appeal to her better side. I thought a bit of neutral ground, and a calm conversation, might do the trick.”

“But it didn’t work?” Patsy asked.

“The exact opposite. She threatened to bring a complaint against me for sexual harassment, saying she felt she’d had no option but to sleep with me. And to tell my wife about Sophie and generally ruin my life. I grabbed her arm. Yes, much like I’m holding yours, you’ll probably be bruised too. Anyway, I told her to do her damnedest, but if she thought I would come off worse than her, she should think again. I would tell how she dished it out on a plate for me and then made threats because her performance wasn’t cutting it. I told her Sophie would back me up and that Sophie thought she’d slept with me out of jealousy.”

“I bet that went down well.”

“Lead balloon time. She pulled free, told me to go forth, and left. And here’s the thing, I would have followed her, but there were a bunch of yobs outside, and I knew she would call on them. So I drank up, ordered another and pondered my fate. I was almost relieved the next morning when she didn’t turn up. And if I’m brutally honest, although I didn’t want her dead, I wanted her out of my life. There’s a bench over there. Shall we take the weight off?”

Granville steered her towards the bench.

“What about Sophie?”

“What do you mean, what about Sophie?”

Patsy sat on the bench, and Granville released her arm. She held it above her head and flexed it.

“I asked, what about Sophie?”

Granville sat, but turned his body to face her, tucking one leg beneath the other.

“Do I have to spell it out?” Patsy asked. “Surely it’s obvious?”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Loopy, I only spoke to you ten minutes ago. I’m on my way back. What do you want?”

“Don’t go mad, but Patsy is with Granville.” Linda paused, waiting for the explosion, but Meredith’s response was eerily calm.

“He came in. I wasn’t expecting that. I would have liked to—“ Meredith had misunderstood.

“No, Skipper. Not here, and not willingly. He’s taking her to Victory Park in Brislington. But he let her—“

The explosion arrived. “Not fucking willingly? How did she put herself in that position? Stay on the line. French, do you know it?”

“Yes. Going there now.”

“You can’t be. You’re driving too slowly. Floor it, and keep you hand on the horn. Don’t kill anyone.”

“Don’t need the horn.” French flipped a switch, activating the siren and grill lights. The traffic ahead pulled to one side to allow them through.

“Linda, get some units on the way. Now, tell me why she was in Brislington, and why she went with him.”

Linda spoke quickly, bringing him up to date. “That’s all I know. You called me Linda. It wasn’t my fault but be mad with me and not Patsy.”

“I’m bloody livid with the pair of you. Get off the phone.” Meredith hung up and dialled Patsy’s number, it rang until the answer service picked it up. Cursing, he called Granville. The same thing happened. Meredith hit French’s arm. “Give me your phone, he might speak to you.” French handed over his phone, and Meredith cursed as that too was ignored.

“Five minutes, Guv. Stay calm.”

Meredith glanced at him. “I am calm. I do calm better when I’m so fucking livid. In fact, I get calmer. It’s when I’m at my most dangerous. Now shut up, and drive.”

“So he thinks Sophie may have done it? I hadn’t considered that. Can’t see it, but I can see why he thinks so. Yes, Corina shat on both of us, she certainly had motive.”

“What? Explain that! Corina, the girl who was giving you the cold shoulder until you wore her down, and slept with her before telling her about you and her best mate? Exactly how did she become the villain? She didn’t even know about Sophie.”

“How could she not know? She was trying to ruin me. I didn’t force her, you know.”

“No, but you flattered her, plied her with alcohol, and didn’t put her in the picture about your other extramarital activities. Her threats were justified.”

“Meredith didn’t do any of that to snare you, of course,” Granville sneered. “Don’t answer it,” he snapped as Patsy’s phone rang.

“Actually, he was a total pain in the arse in the beginning. Gave me every crap job he could think of. I was almost at the point of asking for another transfer. Then he broke his ankle.” Patsy smiled at the memory.

“Ah, how sweet, did you play Florence Nightingale and have a good bedside…Oh, he wants me now.” Granville rejected the call. “Sophie didn’t do it.”

“You sound very sure of yourself. How would you know if you stayed in the bar drowning your sorrows?”

“Because, when she…Rich French this time. Better late than never, actually too late.” Granville rejected that call too.

“You were telling me why you thought Sophie was innocent.”

“Because when she called me, having heard all the salacious gossip, she called me a lot of names, all of which she’d called me before, but this time she meant what she said because she believed I’d killed Corina. No going back there. I loved her, you know.”

“I’m sure you did. So much so that you slept with her best friend. You see, I don’t think you know what love is. I don’t know if you killed Corina or not, but I almost hope it was you, so your wife or any other woman come to that are free to have a decent life. Fran seems like a nice woman, she’s attractive, and with you locked up I don’t think it would take her long to find someone who actually cares about her.”

To Patsy’s surprise, Granville lunged forward, grabbed her shirt, and pinned her against the backrest of the bench as he pressed his knuckles into her breastbone.

French abandoned his car on the double yellow lines on the edge of the park and ran into the park behind Meredith.

Meredith slowed to a trot as his eyes scanned the park. “I’m giving you fair warning, French, that Granville is going to resist arrest, and I’m going to have to take him down with force. You might want to walk so you don’t have to witness his arrest.”

“You’re alright, my eyesight’s been playing up. There they are. Now stay calm, they’re just chatting.”

“If you tell me to stay calm one more time, I might have to arrest you, too.”

French was mid laugh when Granville grabbed Patsy. “Oh shit.”

“Don’t you say that. Shut your mouth! Fran would never go off with someone else. Ever! Do you understand me?”

“Let me go.”

“You’ve really pissed me off.” Granville pressed his knuckles harder, and Patsy winced. “Did that hurt, you…Argh.”

Patsy pulled her arm back and then threw it forward with all the force she could muster, bringing the flat of her hand smashing into Granville’s face. She grimaced at the crunching sound. Granville yelled and released her as his hands flew to his face. Patsy jumped to her feet, wrapped her arms around his head, and pulled him to the floor. His struggle was hindered by one leg being tucked under the other. With him now face down on the floor, she grabbed Granville’s hand, bent it as far back as it would go, resulting in another growl of pain, and raised it up towards her twisting it away from his body, while she put a foot between his shoulder blades.

“Robert Granville, I am arresting you on suspicion of murder. You do not have…” As she completed the caution, she was wondering how she would get his other hand up and secure the zip tie. She was almost relieved when Meredith spoke.

“Do you need assistance, Hodge?”

“Better late than never, Meredith. Come to steal all the glory?” Patsy asked.

“Something like that. We’ll talk about it later. French, cuff him.”

“French! Fucking French?” Granville turned his head and looked at their feet. “Fran told me you called him Guv.”

“Yes. Me.” French patted his pockets. “They’re in the car. Can I have yours?” French held his hand towards Meredith.

Meredith shook his head. “Same. Hodge, where are yours, in your bag, all the way over there on the bench?” He glared at Patsy, who rolled her eyes.

“No. DCI Meredith, I had planned ahead. I was going to use this.” She pulled the zip tie from her pocket. “Not so heavy as cuffs. Easily accessible, if you go prepared, of course. Would you like to borrow mine, Rich?” She held it towards French, her eyes never leaving Meredith.

Rich grinned and stepped forward, and taking the zip tie, yanked Granville’s other arm up. Granville bellowed out expletives and then a few more as the two men yanked him to his feet. The small crowd that had gathered gasped, and some applauded.

“Where’s your car, Hodge?” Meredith asked.

“A fair way away. Where’s yours?”

“Just outside. But French was driving. I was going to suggest we take him back in yours. French could get back to his own job.”

“We can. Ex-DCI Granville enjoys walking.” Patsy smiled at Granville. “Don’t you?…Oh. I don’t think he likes me anymore,” she added as Granville spat blood at her feet.

“Don’t fish for flattery, Hodge. Everyone likes you. Take him away, French. I need a word with Hodge.”

Meredith waited until the two men were a few yards ahead and went to collect Patsy’s bag. He handed it to her. “Can I just say—“

“No, Meredith, you can’t. Not unless you want your nose to look like his.” Patsy slung the strap of her bag over her shoulder.

“In which case this will have to do.” Meredith pulled her to him and kissed her. The watching crowd applauded again, causing French and Granville to turn.

“For fuck’s sake, kill me now.” Granville turned away and started walking faster.

“Oh, here they come.” French waved his arm at the two uniformed officers running into the park and waited for Meredith and Patsy to catch up. While Meredith gave them instructions, French smiled at Patsy. “Nice move. You saved DCI Meredith a job.”

“Yes. He overreacts sometimes. For me, it was necessary. I bet that was a nice car ride.” Patsy flexed her wrist. “I think I’ve damaged something.”

“It was okay. He’s an interesting character. I’ve had a good day, considering.”

Meredith walked back to them as Granville was taken away. “Considering what? Your boss abducted one of my team? Let’s hope you don’t have too many of those. Hodge, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

“I thought it was self-explanatory. Granville wanted to claim innocence. He lost his temper when I told him a few home truths and assaulted me. I arrested him. If we’re lucky and crossing your fingers it worked, I should have caught most of it on this.” Patsy pulled the recorder from her bag and switched it off. “That’s better. I doubt anyone would want to hear my response to any other explanations you might want.” Her eyes flicked to French. “Including French.”

“Then I’ll save them for later. French, thanks for your help today. Much appreciated. Going to be a messy few weeks while it all settles down.”

“Am I dismissed then? I was hoping to watch the interview.”

“It will probably be the same old story, and I don’t think we’ll be able to hold him. The one witness we have who puts him in that bar also has him leaving well after Corina went into the harbour. I was hoping for more evidence before we got to a formal arrest, but one of my officers will insist on going it alone, despite promises to only go out partnered up, the result being she puts herself in danger and makes arrests before we’re ready. But you’re welcome to come in.”

Patsy stopped walking. “So we are doing this here?”

Meredith turned to face her. “If you like. I was just bringing French up to speed.”

French stepped closer. “I’ll pick up anything else back at the station. Shall I meet you there?”

“Probably for the best, Rich. Call Linda on the way. Let her know we’re coming. I might not get the opportunity.”

French nodded and turned away.

“Hold up, French, I’ll escort Hodge to her car and then I’ll come with you. You’ll get me back there faster than she will. She obeys the rules when she’s driving. Hurry up, Hodge, I’ve got a suspect to interview.”

Patsy’s lips twitched, but she maintained a straight face. “Good luck with that. He doesn’t like you. You’d be better letting Louie speak to him.”

An hour later, Granville’s face had been cleaned up, but his shirt remained stained with blood from his encounter with Patsy. Mike Wild, the duty solicitor, was consulting with him. Meredith was sitting at his desk, staring at the whiteboard. The office was unusually quiet. George and Kent had still not returned, and the others were more than aware of the tension between Patsy and Meredith. Meredith’s pen tapped against his cup.

“We’re missing something. We have all the pieces, Loopy. There’s no more to find. We’ve got something in the wrong place.”

“I don’t know, Skipper. Why would he resign and then lock Louie and Patsy in the house? Why do you think it’s not him?” Linda asked.

“It might be. But something is missing. It’s too neat, it was too easy and too obvious. That never happens. And, if it were as we’re assuming, why didn’t Fairweather get there? He had longer than us.”

The phone rang as George and Kent walked in with a box.

“What a bloody day that was. My back is killing me. So, what’s news?” George asked.

“Two secs, George. Skipper, they’re ready for you.”

Meredith got to his feet. “What’s in the box?” he asked as Kent placed it on his desk.

“The station logbook, which includes the day of Fairweather’s visit. And, finally, the original list supplied to the investigating team on the comings and goings. And you won’t like this, but the scaffolding had platforms on the top three levels because the pointing was being done on the brickwork at the same time. There was one access point from the building, the door Fairweather and other smokers used, but there were ladders from the carpark and in several places on each level leading up to the next. Anyone could have come up and down the different levels because of the windows and the ladders. Smokers didn’t always bother to take a trip down to the carpark. The contractor said the platforms were littered with dog ends every morning. Most would have been caught on camera at some point, but there were black spots because who would want to break into a police station, and, anyway, no one knows where the footage is. We’ve asked them to look again.” Kent patted the box.

“Was Sophie Dawson in that day?”

“Give us a break. Do you know how hard it was getting this? I thought we’d done well. Has someone upset him?” George asked.

“Pass it over here, Will. I’ll look. I know what he’s going to say.” Patsy cleared a space on her desk.

“So someone has upset him. Don’t take it out on us, Meredith. And what who’s going to say?”

Meredith shook his head. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Mike Wild held out his hand. “DCI Meredith, nice to see you. From what I hear, this will be a quick one.”

“How’s the family, Wild? Getting any sleep?” Meredith asked.

“It’s getting better, but not enough. How are the twins?”

“Nice though this is, can we get on with it? I’d like a shower and something to eat pronto. I’ve done nothing wrong.” Granville rapped the table with his knuckles as he spoke.

“Oh yes, Robert Granville, I am arresting you for the abduction and assault of Patsy Meredith.” Meredith continued with the caution as Granville shook his head and laughed.

“Hardly. Have you seen my face?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I’ve also seen the bruises on her arm and chest, which have been documented, the missing button on her shirt, and listened to part of the recording.”

“What recording? And if there is one, you will know there were no threats made, and I told her I wouldn’t hurt her.” Granville crossed his arms.

“And yet you did, as the bruising proves. Now, what shall we talk about first? The murder of Corina Jones or the abduction and assault of Hodge? You choose.”

“Corina. This is all I’m going to say, so listen carefully. I didn’t murder Corina. I met with her, we argued, I grabbed her arm and probably caused the bruises found there. But I didn’t leave that bar and follow her. I didn’t hit her over the head, and I didn’t push her into the harbour. Charge me if you want, but I know you have no evidence to prove I did it because I didn’t. Shall we move on to Patsy? Such a lovely woman, packs a punch too. Bet she keeps you on your toes in all departments.”

“Oh, she does. But you’ll hear no complaints from me.” Meredith smiled and looked at Wild. “I think he’s making sure I’m up to it. Not sure how much he’s told you, but ex-DCI Granville feels he needs to prove his virility to the world. Perhaps he’s trying to find a woman who tells him he’s good at it. Who knows? But he was sleeping with not one, but two of his team, while married, and I suppose there might have been more. When the two officers in his team found out they gave him a hard time, he had to suck it up, but Corina was a little more challenging than he could cope with. He called her and demanded she meet with him. She did, and she died after having the argument he just mentioned. But enough about our sex lives. Why did you force Hodge to go into that park with you? She offered to bring you here, and she offered to speak to you in the car. What were you hoping to achieve in the park?”

“My car was on the other side of the park. I had no intention of coming here because it would get us nowhere. Is getting us nowhere. I merely wanted to reiterate my innocence to someone who might listen. Once done, I could get in my car and far away from you lot, who, by the way, I allowed her to call. Why would I have done that if I intended hurting her?”

“I don’t know. To wind me up, perhaps? Your plan failed. She can look after herself as you found out. So I don’t believe you. But moving on, why did you resign? Everyone is shouting that you jumped before you were pushed.”

Granville rolled his eyes. “Yes. That was it. I wanted to wind you up.”

“Not the actions of an innocent man,” Meredith suggested.

“And yet they were. Call me odd.”

“I have a lot of names for you, and odd isn’t one of them, nor is golden knob.” Meredith raised his eyebrows. “So, back to the park. What were you hoping to achieve?”

“I’ve said. Now, you’ve arrested me for something you can prove. Charge me, lock me up overnight, if it makes you happy. The magistrates will bail me, and I’ll see you in court, eventually. “ Granville looked at Mike Wild. “Did I miss anything?”

“You didn’t. DCI Meredith, unless you have some new evidence you wish to put to Mr Granville, it seems there is little point in carrying on this interview.”

“But we haven’t spoken about Sophie Dawson yet. Was she at the station on the day Fairweather died?” Meredith raised his eyebrows again as he looked at Granville.

Granville frowned as Wild jumped in.

“Who is Fairweather, and what’s he got to do with this matter?”

“DCI Jamie Fairweather was the officer investigating the death of Corina Jones. He died at the station she was based in. Fell, or was pushed, from scaffolding erected to repair the building. He’d made a breakthrough in the case. In fact, so sure was he that he told his wife he’d worked out who did it, but he needed to speak to her. He then used his home landline to call the then DCI Granville to arrange attending the office the next day. He needed to speak to her. Unfortunately, his body hitting the carpark after falling from a great height negated that meeting. But Granville may be able to enlighten us. Who was the ‘her’ he needed to speak to? And what was she likely to tell him?“ Meredith leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out as he linked his fingers behind his head.

Granville was frowning, his lips pursed, and his eyes moving from side to side as he considered this. “I’ve had enough. Hands up, I killed her. I killed Corina. Now lock me up and fuck off. I want a word with my brief.”

Meredith nodded. “Ten minutes, because I too want a shower and something nice to eat.”

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Meredith walked back into the office. “Did you watch? He caved too easily. Do you think he’s protecting Dawson?” he asked no one in particular as he looked around the office. “Where’s Hodge and Trump?”

“Gone to pick up Bradley Canter. Patsy saw where you were going with the questioning and suggested Louie might like to go with her. Sophie Dawson was in the station that day. She wants him to tell us if she was around the bar, too. We heard about the park,” Kent told him.

Meredith nodded. “Loopy, where’s your cake? It’s probably going to be hours before I get something substantial to eat.”

“Sorry, Skipper, I gave the last piece to Rich. He eats almost as much as you do,” Linda replied.

Meredith looked at French. “I knew I should have sent you home. Does that lot mean anything to you?” he flipped his hand towards the whiteboard.

George got to his feet. “Well, I can see this might be a long night, alright if I toddle off now? You can’t afford to pay me overtime.”

“Yep. See you tomorrow, George. French, you didn’t answer the question.”

“No, I don’t know anyone in the team who is lefthanded, but they tell me it could have been a backhander. So…” French shrugged. “As soon as Patsy saw Sophie had logged in that day, she was off, so yes, it could have been Sophie. But for my money she doesn’t fit the gain columns. What did she have to gain? She would fit the emotional, but why? Did she do it out of jealousy? Again, why? Corina wasn’t a threat to her, unless she was still sleeping with him. You need to ask him that. But he won’t tell the truth, not if he put his hands up to protect Sophie. Perhaps he did do it. Let’s hope this bloke Canter is some sort of genius. Shall I carry on where Patsy left off? I feel like a spare part at the moment.”

“If you like. Loopy, order some pizza. I don’t think we’re…wonders will never cease, it’s Hodge.” Meredith picked up his phone. “Hodge, nice of you to keep in touch. What do you need?” As Patsy spoke, Meredith sat up straight and clicked his fingers. “Kent, get your car keys, French, you’re going with him. You two take over where Patsy left off. I’m going back down to Granville. Hodge, pizza is on the way. Bring him in. I want a written statement.”

Kent and French had jumped to their feet. “Where are we going, Guv?”

“To pick up our killer, I hope. I’ll tell you on the way down. Loopy, don’t forget the pizza.”

Meredith rapped on the door to the interview room and walked in. “Sorry, to interrupt. Are you done? Because I have a few more questions.”

Wild shook his head. “My client won’t be speaking to you again, DCI Meredith. He’s adamant.”

“But you’ve given him your best advice?”

“I have.”

“Good, then make yourself comfortable, I’ll do the talking.” Meredith hit the red button. “Interview recommenced at five thirty-two. Present are Robert Granville, Michael Wild and DCI Meredith.”

“Bob, you are a bastard, but it appears you are not totally selfish and are trying to redeem yourself. We both know that, and you deserve more punishment than that which might come your way, but we both know you didn’t kill anyone. Am I correct?”

“No comment.”

Meredith looked at Wild. “I hate it when you tell them to do that. I’ll carry on. Do you know where Hodge went, almost the minute I left the room?” Meredith paused, waiting for Granville to answer. There was silence for a while. “That was a question, so it’s the part where you say no comment.” Granville slammed his eyes and tutted. “Okay, down to me, then. She went to pick up a witness. The same witness who saw you enter the bar before Corina, and the same witness who saw you leave after she had gone into the harbour. How can that be if you’re now claiming you killed her? Your turn.”

“No comment.”

“As I thought. You could say you left by the other door and for some reason the CCTV didn’t pick you up. Or, you could say you left via the same door as Corina, but he didn’t see you. But we have CCTV from the other exit, you didn’t use it in the thirty minutes after she left. We checked. So you could claim he was wrong. But he’s not. Because our witness is special. He has an irregularly wired brain. Everything that goes in stays there. He’s been tested, he has scientific tests to prove his reliability, BUT, I hear you shout, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t taking a pee, which he did and saw you in the bar alone, after Corina left, or maybe he was looking the other way as you sneaked out and back in again. Am I right? Would that be an argument you’d pursue?”

“ No comment.”

“But guess who he did see? Guess who he saw who had both the motive and the opportunity, and was the her who Fairweather wanted to speak to?”

Granville’s frown deepened. “No comment?”

“Guess who we’re on our way to pick up and charge? Go on guess, it’s the least you can do. It’s all your fault, after all.”

“No fucking comment.”

“How will she take it, do you think? Will she be meek, roll over and accept her fate? Or will she put up a fight?”

“No comment. I killed Corina. You can talk to whoever you like. I did it. She might say she did to protect me, but once she knows I’ve copped for it, she’ll withdraw any confession. You’ll still get your conviction.”

“Ah, but I believe Hodge told you I only want the actual villain. It’s convicting the right man, or woman in this case, that I want. Although, I agree you should also be locked up. It proves you do love her, though. I’ll confess I doubted that. Bloody hell, Bob, what a mess. Don’t make it any worse.”

“Could it get any worse? Tell me how it could get any worse?”

“Because she probably killed Fairweather, too. If she admits it, and you cop for Corina, you’ll both go down. What would be the point?”

Granville closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “No comment.”

Meredith’s phone beeped, and he got to his feet and looked at Wild. “She’s on her way in. About ten minutes. Talk some sense into your client. Interview suspended at five forty-six.” He hit the button, and the red light stopped flashing.

“I’ll certainly speak to him. But I don’t know who is coming in. Are we speaking about Sophie Dawson?”

“No. His wife. Fran Granville. And before he tries for mistaken identity by our witness, because both women are of similar appearance, he has a type, Sophie Dawson is blonde, whereas poor old long-suffering Fran Granville is a redhead.”

Granville gave a roar and lunged across the table. Meredith jumped back and pointed at Granville. “Don’t give me a reason, Granville. There’s nothing I’d like more. But Mike still thinks I’m a decent bloke.”

“Then he’d be wrong.” He looked at Mike Wild. “I killed Corina Jones. I’m not saying another word. I’d like you to get out there and wait for my wife. She didn’t do this.”

Meredith sniffed. “I’ll leave you to it, but Granville, too little, too late. As is often the case. Excuse me.” The door clicked shut behind him.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“She’s downstairs with Mike. She didn’t shut up until we got here.” Kent held up a recorder. “Got most of it. Daisy, get back on their computer. She said she’d warned Corina time and time again. Must have done it on FaceTime. What else is new?”

“She was at the station on the day Fairweather died. She was in a restroom on the third floor, the window of which overlooked the scaffolding platform. It’s possible she climbed out when she saw him, did the deed, and climbed back in. We’ll need to check that window in relation to the platform, because it might be a stretch. Hodge will ask once she’s finished being told not to comment,” Meredith replied. “As Granville has said he did it, he’ll be held overnight. What else did she have to say?”

“She didn’t set out to kill her, but she didn’t believe Corina when she told her they weren’t having an affair, but she heard Granville mention the bar before he went out. So she went to see if it was Corina. When it was, she followed her and challenged her. They rowed, and Fran slapped Corina, who lost her balance and hit her head. Corina was still cursing, so she pushed her in. She didn’t think she’d drown, and said she would have helped her, but Corina tried to swim to the other side. We didn’t mention DCI Fairweather. Oh, and before I forget, although it’s on here, her bumping into you in the cafe was no accident. She’d heard Granville speaking to Patsy. Thought he was at it again,” Kent replied.

“Guv, it’s here. It’s in her archived chats.” Daisy’s eyes searched her screen. “Corina was polite to begin with, then it got nasty, then she ignored it.”

“Good news. You look like you want to say something, French. Spit it out.”

“I do. Fran is left-handed. I didn’t connect her to it earlier but remembered how she moved the pad when she wrote the addresses down. You were right about that,” French said.

“I’m always right. Just getting this lot to admit it gives me trouble, and—“

“Skipper, you know that’s not true. I told you this might be a woman.” Linda wagged her finger at Meredith.

“You did. But that’s when we were discussing Yeti man. But because it will make you happy, I stand corrected, and you were right.”

There was a tap on the door, and Mike Wild appeared.

“Just to let you know, I’ve finished with her, and it will be a no comment interview. But I’m sure you knew that might be the case.”

Meredith pointed at the recorder still in Kent’s hand. “We’ve got enough. A little late for that. Come on, let’s lock her up for the night and get you off home. We’ll pick up in the morning. I’ve got an appointment. Trump and Hodge will do it.” He looked at the team. “You lot can go home. Eight sharp. I have to be with the chief super at nine. Thanks for your help today, French. Don’t know what tomorrow holds for you, but I’m told dealing with all this shit is character building.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” French replied and said his goodbyes to the team.

When Meredith returned to the office, only Linda and Patsy remained. Linda jumped to her feet.

“I’m going now, Louie is waiting, but I wanted to remind you two of what you said about each other before you go home.”

“What we said?” Patsy asked. “Linda, we’ve barely spoken today.”

“Not to each other, about each other. You said you couldn’t see a time when you’d ever get fed up with the skipper, and he told Granville that he had no complaints about you. Ever. Just remember that when you get home. Now he’s looking at me like that again. I’m going before he calls me Linda.”

Patsy flopped back against the pillow. “That was the day from hell. Tomorrow won’t be much better.”

“I don’t want to talk about it. We’ll deal with that tomorrow. She confessed to French when they arrested her, going no comment won’t help. It would be nice to know if she pushed Fairweather, though,” Meredith replied as he flopped down next to her.

“I wonder if Granville suspected her all along. He didn’t mention she was in the station at the time, but did anyone ask that question? There again, she was on the log as a visitor but who would suspect her? If she did it, I hope she confesses, but it’s unlikely. We’ll just have to hope that she gets a decent sentence for Corina and have to accept it as punishment enough. Not good enough, but without evidence…Why do you think he’s taking the blame? Guilt?”

“I thought I said I didn’t want to talk about it. But yes, guilt. I suppose he had a line he wouldn’t cross. She did what she did because he lied and cheated, she punished the wrong person. Now, stop changing the subject. You have some explaining to do.”

“I do not and have you forgotten what Linda said? No complaints. You’re always grumpy when you have to see the chief super. There’s no need to be. None of this was your fault. You’ve done nothing wrong this time. He might have a new case for you.”

“I doubt it. Not sure how we could run it with two men down. Although I bet he’d expect me to. Anyway, it’s not me that did something wrong. You owe me an apology.”

Patsy pushed herself up on her elbow. “What do you mean, two men down? Who? Tom, but he’ll be back. Who else?”

“Me if you don’t stop talking. But I’m not convinced Tom will be back. I wasn’t getting positive vibes when he called earlier. And Trump. They have cut back so much there’s no one to step into Granville’s shoes. So Uncle David suggested Trump. Trump would be an idiot not to take a promotion that sees him in charge of his own team. He could run that lot with his eyes shut.”

“But what about Alex Game and Rich? Wouldn’t they be in the running?” Patsy asked.

“You’d think so, but they’re not related to Uncle David. Trump had better not ask for my advice. I’d hate to lie to him. Whatever happens, it won’t be the same without those two. You should let me retire, so I don’t have to cope with it. That’s what a good wife would do.”

“Johnny, you can retire. I’d miss you. Whatever is left of the team would miss you, and that makes me sad. But if it’s really what you want, you must do it.” Patsy yelped as Meredith rolled over and pinned her down.

“Are you telling me that despite what happened today, you still wouldn’t jump ship with me if I asked? And you still haven’t apologised.”

“Can I apologise before I answer that question? I don’t want to ruin your apology for me.”

“If you must. Anything to shut you up.”

Thank you for reading Close to Home. I hope you enjoyed Meredith & Hodge’s latest cold case. If you did, I’d be grateful if you would be kind enough to leave a review on Amazon when you have a moment. Constructive reviews are invaluable to authors. If you would rather contact me personally, the details are below. If you want to read more of my work, you can grab a free ebook copy of The Making of Meredith, the prequel to the Meredith & Hodge series, if you sign up for my mailing list at: https://www.mkturnerbooks.co.uk/about

ABOUT ME

I escaped the corporate treadmill in 2010. I began writing quite by chance when a friend commented, “They wouldn’t believe it if you wrote it down!” So I did. I enjoyed the plotting and scheming, creating the characters, and watching them develop with the story. I kept on writing, and Meredith and Hodge arrived. Then, in 2017, the Bearing women took hold of my imagination, and the Bearing Witness series was created. In 2023, it was The Little Compton Mysteries and I am currently working on the JJ Jenson series. In between all the new ideas, I do, of course, keep going back to Meredith & Hodge.

I am married with two children, two grandchildren, and a German Shepherd, Ted. We live in Bristol, UK.

I would love to hear from you, and can be contacted here:

Website: https://www.mkturnerbooks.co.uk

Meredith & Hodge Series

The Making of Meredith

Misplaced Loyalty

Ill Conceived

The Wrong Shoes

Tin Soldiers

One Secret Too Many

Mistaken Beliefs

Quite by Chance

Family Matters

Not If You Paid Me

A Measure of Guilt

Meredith & Hodge Bear Witness

Web of Deceit

Error of Judgement

Chance Encounters

Enough

Gone

A Fatal Assumption

Close to Home

Bearing Witness Series

Witness for Wendy

An Unexpected Gift

Terms of Affection

Meredith & Hodge Bear Witness

Little Compton Mysteries

The Murder

The Abduction

The Burglar

JJ Jenson Series

An Ill Wind

To Kill Two Birds

Too Many Times

Others

Who Killed Charlie Birch?

The Cuban Conundrum

Murderous Mishaps

The Recruitment of Lucy James