Roy Grace said nothing. Sometimes silence was the best reply, especially when dealing with a total asshole like Cassian Pewe.

After several moments, the ACC said, ‘Roy?’

‘Sir?’

‘Did you not hear what I said?’

‘Yes, I heard.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’

Pewe’s voice was becoming increasingly high-pitched, as it always did the angrier he got. ‘A married woman goes missing, which happens all the time. But you, in your infinite wisdom, take it upon yourself to deploy half the resources of the Major Crime Team on one woman who’s been gone barely twenty-four hours?’

Calmly and quietly, Grace replied, ‘As I’m the Head of Major Crime you either have to accept my judgement when I decide to elevate, based on the evidence I have, what might seem to be a routine enquiry into a crime-in-action, or else replace me if you have no confidence in me. Personally, I’m fine either way – sir.’

Roy Grace knew Cassian Pewe was well aware that he had an open offer to move to the London Metropolitan Police in a Temporary Commander role, which would put him on equal status to Pewe. He was confident the idiot would back off. He was right.

‘If you have good reason for what seems to me to be complete overkill, perhaps you might have had the courtesy to brief me first,’ Pewe said sullenly.

‘I’ve been a little busy today,’ Grace replied, a tad facetiously. ‘Forgive me for putting the police ethic, to serve and protect, above informing you what was happening. But with a possible crime-in-action and, in my view, a life at stake, I thought you would be big enough to park your ego and let me get on with my job.’

He could hear the barely restrained fury in Pewe’s voice. ‘Don’t push me, Roy.’

Push you? Grace thought, mindful of Guy Batchelor’s notebook sitting on the desk in his little office at home. I’ll push you. All the way over the cliff edge, like I should have done when I had the chance but instead I hung on to you to save your sodding life and risked mine doing it.

‘I’m not pushing you, sir, I’m merely trying to do my job. I appreciate that, under some circumstances, we would wait longer after someone was reported missing by their partner before elevating it to a misper enquiry. But in my judgement and after my risk assessment, we’re not looking for a misper.’

‘Really, Roy? So what are you looking for exactly?’ Pewe whined.

‘Proof of life – sir.’

25

Monday 2 September

There was a long silence. Finally it was broken by the ACC’s voice.

‘You’d better be right,’ Pewe retorted lamely.

Roy then ran through the lines of enquiry his team were following and gave Pewe an update. ‘So actually, sir, I hope I’m wrong,’ Grace said.

‘Meaning what exactly, Roy? You’re a homicide investigator through and through. Don’t pretend otherwise. I know you, and what you and all homicide investigators like more than anything is a good murder – what do you call it – a Gucci murder? You’re not hoping she’s alive at all, are you?’ he said snidely.