When he had finished, he strode away leaving her sprawled on the bed. She waited until the door closed behind him before bursting into tears. For now, all she could do was suffer. He had drawn all the strength out of her, and now even the sound of his breathing in bed beside her at night was enough to shatter her will. But one day she would summon the strength to resist him. She made that promise to herself. Only when she was out at the shops, or walking along the street, did her terror abate. She never felt safe inside the house.

1

1

Geraldine wasn’t currently involved in a murder investigation, where her position as a detective sergeant working in serious crime often placed her. There was still plenty for her to do, like questioning a young delinquent who had threatened an elderly man with a knife. Geraldine adopted a friendly tone. The boy was less likely to talk freely if he felt intimidated. He looked several years younger than his nineteen years, was articulate, and seemed intelligent enough to know what he was doing. After questioning him for some time, Geraldine finally worked out that his victim had berated the youngster for spraying graffiti.

‘He was bang out of order calling the cops on me. I got every right to express myself.’

‘By threatening a stranger with a knife? How is that expressing yourself?’

‘I know my rights,’ the youngster insisted.

Geraldine dropped her relaxed approach and spoke severely. ‘Everyone has the right to walk along the street without being attacked.’

‘But he wasn’t just walking along the street. He was interfering with my right to express myself.’

‘Your right to express yourself doesn’t stretch to vandalising property and threatening to stab someone, and your victim wasn’t trying to suppress your right to free speech,’ Geraldine said. ‘He was protecting his property from your graffiti.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with free speech,’ the youth persisted. ‘I should be able to say whatever I want to anyone I like.’

‘You know perfectly well that you’re missing the point,’ Geraldine said.

‘But how else am I going to get them to listen?’ the youth burst out angrily.

‘Who?’

He shrugged. ‘I dunno. The government, the council, everyone in power. They don’t do anything to help us.’ He leaned forward. ‘My mother and her boyfriend threw me out on the street the day I turned sixteen and left me to fend for myself. I’d be dead now if a homeless shelter hadn’t taken me in and given me somewhere to stay. And now the council want to cut their funding.’ He was nearly in tears. ‘The council are the ones who should be arrested, not victims of their cutbacks like me.’

That evening, over supper, Geraldine discussed her day with her boyfriend and senior officer, Ian.

‘Are you defending what he did?’ Ian asked.