‘Nothing lately though and they wouldn’t be hanging around in this weather – well, I suppose in a vehicle they might but it’s a long shot, they tend to come on these pedigree dogs by chance and grab them then.’

‘Will you please shut the fuck up about dog snatchers? And K wants to talk to you, he’s getting dressed. Take him a coffee.’

‘How’s his knee?’

‘Not terminal.’

As he went out, Simon touched her shoulder. ‘Sorry, sis. We’ll find the little bugger, don’t worry.’

‘OK.’ Simon handed back the phone to the Chief, after reading the newspaper clip. ‘So, Dr Shenfield resigned before he was pushed. Were all these cases ours? I’ve worked with him quite a lot.’

‘We’ll find out. But he did the PM on the junkie from the Starly flat.’

‘That didn’t show anything unexpected . . . heroin overdose, self-administered.’

‘Has the body been released?’

‘God yes, they’ve had the funeral – last week I think. I accompanied the sister to ID him and it was all going forward from there. Are you worried it wasn’t kosher’

‘Not necessarily but go over to BG, there’ll be an on-call pathologist. Try and dig out some answers.’

‘All right, though technically . . .’

‘What?’

‘I’m off duty. It could wait till tomorrow morning.’

‘I don’t want this hanging around, Simon.’

‘Understood, but weekend’s not the best time day to request info.’

‘All right. I take it you have important plans?’

‘Finding Wookie. Cat isn’t going to rest until we have closure one way or another. I could put someone onto the Shenfield thing, but if we leave it till tomorrow I’ll find out a lot more myself. If there’s anything going on the medics will close ranks as usual, but I know a fair few to talk to. Drink that and then I’ll help you get downstairs, before I go out dog hunting again. Leave no stone unturned.’

‘How much luck do you think you’re going to have this time?’

Simon shook his head as he heard Cat coming upstairs.

Twenty-Two

‘Adam Iliffe.’

‘Morning, Adam. Simon Serrailler.’

‘Now let me guess . . . you need a big favour, there’s a body you want us to fast-track up the queue – right?’

‘Wrong. Can we meet up?’

‘Talking of that queue. Full day.’

‘This evening?’

Adam sighed. ‘All right, seven? Can’t be too long, there’s a new infant at home.’

‘That’s great. I don’t want to keep you from – him? her?’

‘Him. Jacob. It’s OK, I know you – it’ll be urgent.’

‘Bit confidential too.’

‘As ever. Right then, my village pub. Won’t be busy on a Monday at that time. The Wheatsheaf at Castlesett.’

‘Know it. Thanks, Adam. and it’s my shout.’

‘I should bloody hope so.’