She was the one who made sure the builders were cleared away from the scene, and she was the one who made them promise not to talk to the press. And, when they broke that promise, she was the one who single-handedly drove off the first journos who turned up. Well, all right, not single-handedly, but it was her idea to send Danny on patrol to make sure no one tried to sneak in the back way.

She used the time while they waited for backup to make meticulous notes in her logbook, and by the time DCI Jordan got there she was able to hand everything over in a professional manner. She’d been sure the DCI was impressed with her. She even managed to corner Doggett when he arrived and, although he was his usual misogynistic, racist, shitbag self, she was pretty sure he was impressed with her, too. At that moment she’d known, like you did sometimes, that this was it. This was her chance. This was her way in.

And then the bastard Adam Tyler shows up.

Why her? What the fuck has she ever done to him? She never joins in when the others slag him off back at the station. In fact, if anything she’s always felt a bit sorry for him, the way they take the piss out of him because he’s gay and because he’s good. Too good, from what she’s heard. He shows them up, and doesn’t give a shit about doing it. They call him Homo-cop: part faggot, part machine.

But maybe they’re right, not about the gay stuff but about the other. Maybe he is a coldhearted bastard. Never mind the fact he looks like a prettier Jake Gyllenhaal, even with that scar on his face. All the girls fancy him even though they can’t have him. To think, she’s even defended him in the past! Only to take abuse from the lads because they thought she fancied him as well. Well, maybe she did fancy him a little bit, but that’s not the point. The point is she won’t be fucking defending him ever again, that’s for sure. Bollocks to him!

She sees him standing by the window inside the incident room and makes a promise to herself. No matter how fit he is, if he’s screwed this up for her and she ends up having to work with the fucking dog handlers, she’ll find a way to pay the bastard back. If it takes the next thirty years, she’ll find a way.

—

During the course of one sleepless night, Lily grows more and more certain her hiding place in the drawer of the bureau is dangerously exposed and obvious. What if Edna should suddenly need a stamp and, noticing some crease or turned corner in the lining paper, should decide to investigate further? Never mind that Edna hasn’t betrayed the slightest inclination to correspond with anyone for a good twenty-five years or more, what if today is the day that changes?