Jennings sighed heavily. ‘Come on in then. The bare bones only, mind, and you can make yourself useful for once,’ he said flatly. ‘I want you to put out an appeal for anyone in the vicinity of the accident in the early hours of yesterday morning to get in touch. Or anyone who has any information on the victim, especially any contact details for his next of kin.’

Duncan shot her a triumphant wink as the inspector closed the door behind him, and Trudy, defeated, returned to her desk.

She knew she shouldn’t feel unsettled, but she did. Duncan Gillingham and trouble seemed to go hand in hand, and she was feeling defensive of her case. It might not be the most exciting case in the world but, at the moment anyway, it was all hers and she didn’t want Duncan butting in.

She brooded all the time the reporter was in her superior’s office, and when he came out she was careful not to look at him. Had she done so, she’d have seen the speculative and appreciative look he gave her and so wouldn’t have been so surprised when, instead of walking past and heading for the front door, he headed for her again instead.

‘So how are things with you?’ he asked, casually leaning one hip against her desk. He craned his neck to try and read the piece of paper in her typewriter, and she angrily pulled it out, ripping one corner. Which meant she’d have to fill in the form again.

She swore at him – but only under her breath.

‘Things are fine, thank you,’ she said shortly.

‘Fancy coming out for a drink with me?’

‘No.’

‘Oh, come on,’ he cajoled. ‘You know you like me really. And after all that excitement we had over that dead May Queen last year, I thought we’d become friends, at least.’

Trudy sighed and bent her head more industriously over her typewriter, knowing he wouldn’t take the hint even as she did so.

She was right – he didn’t. ‘Why the cold shoulder, Constable Loveday?’ she heard him ask, his voice rich with suppressed laughter. ‘Isn’t it chilly enough as it is, without that?’

‘Go away,’ Trudy said tiredly.

‘After you agree to have a drink with me.’

‘Have it with your fiancée,’ Trudy said pointedly.

*

Duncan winced at this direct, palpable hit. ‘You know, one day …’ he began, with some heat, but didn’t bother to finish the thought. Instead, he glanced at the telephone on her desk and casually extracted his notebook from his pocket and wrote its number down.

Knowing that he had to make the lunchtime deadline if he wanted to get his piece into the early edition, he reluctantly gave her a jaunty salute and wandered off.