‘Well, we’ve had three, haven’t we? One mugging, a couple of joyriders and that group of masked kids trying to break into the chippie. I’m not sure what the other crews have had.’ Yvonne thought about the spate of petty crimes all committed by youths wearing horrible rubber masks, and gave a little shiver. ‘Those things are obscene. I just wish we knew where they were coming from.’

‘Yeah, it’s weird, isn’t it?’ Niall went to the coffee machine and sorted through his pocket for some change. ‘Started with a few school kids wearing them to scare the shit out of each other, and now they are all over town. Someone must know what the devil’s going on.’

Yvonne accepted the coffee that Niall handed to her. ‘Thanks. I need this. Let’s hope we’ve seen the last of them for this shift. Those masks give me the creeps.’

‘Collins! Farrow! You’ve got a shout! Now!’ The sergeant’s voice echoed down the corridor and into the messroom.

Yvonne grabbed her hat and jumped up. ‘Bugger! Grab that bloody ton of hardware off the floor, Niall. Here we go again!’

As Yvonne and Niall chased more masked hooligans around the town, Nikki walked slowly down the corridor to CID. She was very early, but sleep had evaded her, and seeing the dawn rise over the nick was distinctly preferable to spending one more waking moment in her miserable flat.

She could hear the murmured comments of the officers on duty, but she did what she normally did and ignored them. She didn’t need a crystal ball to know what they were saying. News travelled fast through the station and she had a fair idea that a book had already been opened on how long Old Nick and Holy Joe would last as a team.

Nikki pushed open the door to her office and decided that she would not be placing a bet. She took off her jacket, flung it over the back of her chair, and went straight back out to get a coffee. She wanted some time to herself before her new sergeant arrived. She just wished they’d let her go solo. When she worked alone, she was at her best. Now they were pairing her with … Nikki stared at the steaming brown liquid dribbling into the beaker and wondered. With whom, exactly? She knew very little about Joseph Easter. As the Super had said, everything she knew had come straight from the messroom, and that was not the most reliable source. As she picked up the beaker and placed it in a holder, a wry smile crossed her face. And if Sergeant Easter believed everything he heard about her via the grapevine, he would probably be expecting to meet Medusa herself.