But now she no longer had the power of the job on her side, she’d have to exploit Scott’s skills if she wanted to see justice done. Crucially, there was no doubt in Carol’s mind that someone had to speak for the two dead women. Fielding wasn’t doing that and because she wasn’t, Paula couldn’t. Somebody had to fill the breach. Getting Tony off the hook was merely the first step on a journey to the truth.

All these high-flown ideals were a perfect distraction. The more Carol wrapped herself in the flag of justice, the less she had to consider her feelings for Tony. The notion that she was reaching for a way to bridge the distance between them was one she would have dismissed with contempt if she’d allowed herself even to admit it as a possibility. It wasn’t about forgiveness. It was simply that she didn’t want him in her life.

Driving into Bradfield was a strange sensation. It had been months since she’d travelled city streets and although she could still easily navigate routes that used to be second nature she felt like a tourist following a map she’d learned by heart. This had been her home for years but she had cut her ties and already there were changes to the traffic flow. Nothing major; the odd lane change at junctions, an alteration of priorities at traffic lights. Enough to make her a stranger.

She pulled into the multi-storey car park in Skenfrith Street five minutes early. The sixties brutalist structure was stark in the fluorescent lights. It was past eleven and there were few cars left on the ground level. Carol parked her Land Rover Defender in the middle of a strip of empty slots and got out. Her footsteps echoed on the stained concrete like a clichéd movie soundtrack. She leaned against the front of the Landie, feeling a faint flutter of nervousness. She was a woman alone in a deserted late-night city-centre car park. When she’d been a cop, the simple fact of that status had acted as a protection. Now, although it made no sense, she felt distinctly more vulnerable. Even her choice of clothes contributed to that element of risk. She’d grown accustomed to the aura of strength and competence that came from her new work clothes. Donning her former work uniform of suit and blouse and low heels made her much more of a target for passing predators. She hoped Bronwen Scott wasn’t going to be late.