So, through gritted teeth, Thrupp had logged a written authorisation for the surveillance, citing that Hetherington had been temporarily uncontactable. He had tweaked the timecode in the report to make it look legit so it could be used as evidence in the court case, where both of the suspects received custodials. Harper was sure that the DI would be pleased after that. But no. He could barely look her in the eye. During the process for submitting evidence, the super had questioned the report, but had signed it off because it was Thrupp, his old pal and golf buddy. It was embarrassing, though, for both men, and Thrupp was still angry about having to ask a favour in a way that made him look unprofessional. She reckoned he planned to stay angry until the end of time. Once everyone had stopped congratulating Harper, she’d been punished, restricted to desk duties for eleven weeks, and only escaped a disciplinary by a whisker.

She wasn’t sorry, though. Even after all of that, she knew she’d been right to do what she did, and what’s more she knew she’d do it again, or something similar, if her intuition was strong enough.

The babies, though. The babies muddied the waters, and she knew it. So much so, that she wasn’t certain she could read the signals properly. She couldn’t tell if she felt so strongly about this case because a criminal needed to be apprehended, or because there were babies in potential danger.

“Jo, get your stuff.” It was Thrupp.

“What's up, sir?”

“There’s an incident down at Kelham Island. Uniform have been dealing with it but they need our input. You can drive.”

“What’s going on?” It was unusual for a DI to be summoned to an incident. It only happened when there was something high level, like a hostage situation, or something to do with organised crime, where strategic leads were required on the ground.

“Some kiddie on the roof of one of the disused factories. Reported initially as a suicide attempt. Apparently it’s escalated.”

“Escalated how?” said Harper.

“It’s not enough to kill yourself, is it? Not when you can take out a building and a whole load of members of the public, too. Couple of police officers, maybe, for extra points. He says he’s got a bomb, and he wants a bloody helicopter.”

“What’s the helicopter for, sir?”

“I don’t know, do I? Sounds to me like he wants to blow one up. Jesus. I don’t have time for this.”

Harper pocketed her notebook and swung her bag over a shoulder before jumping up and heading for the door.

“Wait,” said Thrupp.

“What is it?”

“Change those ridiculous bloody shoes. Now.”

“Sorry, guv.”

“Did you go out in those this morning?”

“Um,” said Harper, slipping the rubbery five-toes trainers off and her sensible shoes on. “No?”

Thrupp shook his head almost all the way to the lift. She started to jog to keep up with him, his enormously long legs giving him an advantage when it came to striding.