‘Not yet, no. He has…’ Baker pauses. ‘He’s been through a lot, and nobody followed the Stevens inquest more closely than Robin. Let’s just say I don’t want to open old wounds for no reason.’ Baker leans across the table again, and Freya feels herself wilt slightly in his stare. ‘Will that be a problem?’

‘No, guv, absolutely not.’

Her DCI clasps his hands together with satisfaction. ‘Good. I’ll tell Butler that you’ve been reassigned for a week, some boring admin project that he won’t question. Report to me, and only me. And you can speak to Dr Harper.’

‘Steph’s on it?’

‘She’s reviewing the medical findings. Between the two of you, I have faith you’ll find anything we missed. If it’s there.’

He nods and turns away. Freya takes that as her cue to leave.

She stands out in the corridor and looks at the file in her hands. She feels a slight thrill of excitement. This is hers, and hers alone. Her own little investigation, and a perfect chance to prove herself. It’s going to be fun.

If only she didn’t have to lie to her boss. If only she didn’t feel so damn disloyal.

29

Robin walks away from the coffee shop in a daze. Someone knows something. But what? What could they possibly know?

He drives home, as thoughts rush through his head. He parks badly, almost hitting the cars either side. With shaking fingers, he opens the door to his house, locking it behind him. He walks quickly up to his bedroom, closing the curtains, then, fully clothed, he bundles himself into his bed.

When he wakes, it’s dark. His house is silent. He feels hot, fully dressed under his duvet and kicks it off, lying there for a moment in the black. He has no idea what time it is. He’s left his phone downstairs; he feels weary, too tired to pull his head up.

He’s felt like this before. A week after Georgia and the twins died, he remembers the overwhelming feeling of nothing. Not despair, not depression, just a blank where feelings should have been. He had no energy to eat, to get up, to answer his phone. In the end, Neal Baker came to his door. His boss, the big man himself, broke in and found him, skinny, weak, lying in his filthy house. Baker made calls, efficient and decisive, and checked Robin into the Priory.

Robin emerged a month later, prescriptions for different drugs clutched in his hand. Better, but still grieving, and Baker allowed him back to work under his watch, where Robin had stayed. But he knew Baker still kept a close eye on him, ready to shift him to administrative duties or sign him off sick if required.