‘Hey, stop feeling sorry for yourself,’ Elliott replied. ‘Beginners always make mistakes. But the good ones move on and learn from them. Compared to some officers I’ve seen on a range, you did well.’ Elliott looked at his watch. He glanced at Jane and, for the first time since she had met him, he smiled. She was astonished to see how it lit his whole face, revealing a completely different side to him. ‘The most important thing, Jane, is you remained calm and didn’t panic.’

She actually flushed. ‘Thank you very much.’ She noticed for the first time that he had a slight accent. ‘Where are you from?’ she asked.

He gave another one of those smiles. ‘Oh, you detected a bit of the Dorset burr. But I’ve been a long time away from there.’

‘What do you do exactly?’ Jane asked.

He gave a slight shrug of his shoulders. ‘I’m head of security at a customs office in Southampton.’

Jane intuitively knew he was lying. ‘Really? And that means you get access to this place?’

He leaned back in the chair. ‘Well, you know, we have a lot of problems with illegal weapons being brought in all over the UK, so I’m on secondment in London at the moment.’

‘But were you at one time in the police?’

Again, he took her by surprise as he stood up and laughed. ‘This is a bit of an inquisition, isn’t it, Jane? Next you’ll ask me if I’m married.’

Jane stood up. ‘No, Elliott, I was going to ask who gave you all the information about my situation in the Sweeney. I asked Dabs if it was him, but he said he hadn’t spoken to you. My concern is that my career could be damaged by defamatory gossip.’

He turned towards her, but she wasn’t intimidated this time, even though he was a big man. ‘Dabs is a good guy, and he didn’t say anything derogatory about you, Detective Sergeant Tennison. Neither will I. I have a personal interest in your situation, and, just so you know, I’m not married. Now, I’ve got a meeting at Customs House in Billingsgate, so I need to get you out of here.’

*

When Jane got to the station she was disappointed that she would be deskbound, with the job of matching dates and names from Foxley’s diary with the small notebook she had removed from his bedroom. She was also instructed to reconcile his finances, as Foxley had made a multitude of cash withdrawals in the seven months prior to his murder. They were now looking into the possibility that drugs were involved. It would be a long and tedious morning for her, but Spencer seemed to be in high spirits.