‘You do know we have a seven a.m. briefing tomorrow? I’ll come in early to bash out my report. Did you get anything from Julia Summers?’

Jane was hesitant. ‘Maybe, maybe not. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

As she replaced the phone, Tyler came out of his office and looked at her, shaking his head. ‘You’re becoming a permanent fixture here, Tennison. I have you down as off-duty.’

Jane packed up her bag. ‘Yes, sir. I just wanted to finish a report.’

Tyler folded his arms. ‘Anything I should know about?’

‘I’m not sure, sir. I need to do more work tomorrow.’

He nodded. ‘Well, you get off home. There’s a briefing at seven a.m. That’s for all the team.’

Jane filed her report and left the station. By the time she got home, it was after 10 p.m. She made herself some cheese on toast and finished a half bottle of wine from the fridge. She had one message blinking on her answer phone. It was Dexter. ‘Hi, I was just passing by and wondered if you fancied a bite to eat?’

Jane replayed the message and realized it had been made earlier in the evening. It was too late to return his call. She felt quite pleased about it, though, and promised herself that the following evening she would call him back. She went into the bathroom and was just reaching to turn on the bath and empty some relaxing bath salts into it when her phone rang. She rushed to pick it up, thinking it must be Dexter.

‘Hello?’

‘Jane, it’s Dabs. Just checking in. Sorry if it’s a bit late. But Joan said you called a couple of times and I was just a bit concerned that something was wrong.’

‘No, nothing wrong. I was actually just going to tell you . . . ’ She hesitated to mention that her relationship with Elliott had really moved on. Instead, she told Dabs that she had received her membership card for the rifle club.

‘That’s good. You probably won’t get the main door code until the next time you go.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘You have to memorize the number and if you write it down you have to eat the paper. Security, you know.’

‘I’ve been trying to contact Elliott. I’d like another session with him, but he never answers his phone. I wondered if you had a work number for the customs office he works from?’

‘No,’ Dabs said quickly. ‘Look, don’t do that. Leave it with me. He might be in Devon if he’s not still in London. I’ll get him to call you.’