Paula walked Carol down to the Skenfrith Street car park and her Land Rover. She watched her tail lights disappear then lit a cigarette, shivering in the damp night air. She’d barely smoked half of it when her phone rang. When she saw it was Elinor, she was tempted to send it straight to voicemail. She imagined the arrest was on the news and she couldn’t talk about it yet with Elinor or Torin. But loyalty won over expediency and she took the call. ‘DS McIntyre,’ she said, using their standard code to make it clear they were in work mode.

‘This is only a quickie. I saw the news and I know you must be up to your eyes. But I thought you’d want to know.’

‘Know what?’

‘We’ve spoken to Torin’s dad again. Actually, Torin did most of the speaking. They’ve had a really good chat. He talked about how he feels about his mum. He really opened up. And then I was able to talk to Tom. The upshot is that Tom would be very grateful if we’d have Torin to stay until he’s finished his tour of duty in Afghanistan.’

Paula could hear the genuine pleasure in Elinor’s voice. She wasn’t entirely sure how much of that delight she shared, but she was willing to go along for the ride. She’d never dreamed of a quiet life. Which was probably just as well. She stubbed out her smoke and walked into the warm fug of the station. ‘I’m glad,’ she said. ‘I think Bradfield’s the best place for him right now.’

‘I love you, DS McIntyre. I’ll see you later.’

Paula grunted. ‘I doubt it, the way things are going.’ She walked back into the squad room. And the moment’s respite was over.

Because then an eager detective constable with an unruly mane of ginger curls raised a hand, as if she was in a GCSE maths class. ‘Sergeant, you know how we were wondering how he knew it was safe to dump Nadia’s body in that squat?’

‘Yeah?’

‘Well, I’ve been taking another look at the reports. Taylor’s wife’s maiden name was Waddington. And one of the lads who live in the squat is called Waddington. It’s not that common a name. What’s the betting they were related?’

‘Good work. Check it out,’ Paula said. She glanced across to Fielding’s office. Empty. No surprise there. Hussain and Wood were communing with their computer screens and Cody was on the phone, his expression grave. He put the phone down and smacked his fist on the desk. Startled, everyone looked up.

‘She didn’t make it,’ he said angrily. ‘Marie Mather. She was bleeding internally. They couldn’t stabilise her. Fuck.’