Hawkins squinted at the page, recognizing the V-shaped line with a dot either end, but unable to make out the spidery writing below. ‘What does it say?’

‘I was right about it being alchemical, anyway.’ Julia’s eyes traced the curve of the image before she returned Hawkins’ gaze.

‘It means purified.’

35

‘Well, Detective.’ Simon Hunter ran a hand through typically ragtag black hair, having listened patiently to Hawkins’ round-up of the latest developments. ‘You definitely know how to pick ’em.’

She smiled. ‘Surely the extremists are more interesting.’

‘Once in a while, perhaps.’ Hunter glanced nervously around the lift, apparently uncomfortable with its ponderous ascent. ‘Except with you around, Antonia, extreme is increasingly normal these days.’

There was a jolt and a ping, then a muffled female voice announced that the lift doors were opening, at least seven seconds before that became the case.

Hunter sagged as the panels edged open, trading chivalry for speed in his eagerness to exit the large metal box that had carried them to the second level of Becke House.

Hawkins followed him out into the rear corner of the Serious Incident Suite, a large open area that took up most of the building’s top floor. To their right, groups of pale desks were clustered near banks of investigation boards in four distinct areas, each assigned to a different ongoing investigation. Many of the workstations were manned by Met officers staring intently at PC monitors or laptops. And at the far end of the room, a knot of semi-familiar faces huddled around a senior DI, clearly involved in some kind of strategy briefing.

‘Just for the record,’ Hunter glanced back at the lift as Hawkins caught him up, ‘if I go before my time, have me cremated, would you?’

‘Of course.’ She opted not to ask what he thought people were incinerated in.

They crossed the incident suite in silence, as Hawkins assimilated this new information about Hunter. She had worked with the psychological profiler on various multiple murder cases since being promoted, temporarily at first, to Chief Inspector. Yet this was the first time she had seen him show fear, especially over something so mundane; odd for someone who spent his days dealing with individuals who wilfully took lives. But then Hunter’s profession – decoding the mindset and likely imminent behaviour of functioning psychopaths – was based on understanding motivation. Killers, however detached from reality they might be, generally had what they considered to be justifiable cause, so understanding those trigger points sometimes allowed experts like Hunter to predict their actions: predictions that often played a pivotal role in their detention. There were many motivations for murder, but there was always a reason behind it. The more consistent a person’s activities, however extreme, the more predictable they became.

If the cable holding a lift snapped with you inside, that was just bad luck.