‘They have ATMs,’ said Cooper. ‘You know – cash machines.’

‘Yes, I know what an ATM is. Wait – you’re on the plastic crime initiative.’

‘Did you forget?’

‘No, I’ve been a bit busy this morning, that’s all.’

‘Something on?’

He heard Fry hesitate. ‘Don’t get excited. Just something I’d like you to take a look at when you’re finished. Get away as soon as you can, will you?’

‘Are you going to tell me what it’s all about?’

‘A house fire last night. Multiple fatalities.’

‘Where?’

‘One of the Edendale estates. The Shrubs, I think they call it.’

‘I know where you mean.’

For all the time she’d served in E Division, Fry still didn’t seem to know the area all that well. Perhaps she didn’t think it was worth the effort because she wasn’t intending to stay long enough. Yes, that was the impression she gave. A visitor caught in a depressing stop-over while she waited for a connection to somewhere better.

Cooper remembered a few of the initial reactions to Fry when she’d first transferred from West Midlands. ‘A bit of a hard-faced cow’; ‘Could be a looker, but she doesn’t bother’; ‘Too tall, too skinny, no make-up’; ‘Stroppy bitch’. None of them had been fair, of course. But Fry hadn’t done much to make herself popular with her colleagues. In fact she seemed to relish her image.

In the background, he could hear Judson answering a question. ‘A blank piece of plastic, embossed and encoded with a stolen account number. Some of these plastic crime merchants practically steal your identity.’

‘Can you hear me, Ben?’

‘Yes, you mentioned a fire on the Shrubs.’

‘Great. Well, three deaths. A mother and two children.’

‘Evidence of suspicious circumstances?’

‘Not yet. But . . .’

‘You’re expecting some?’

‘We haven’t had the forensics yet. But I want to know if you’ll be around.’

‘OK,’ said Cooper, trying not to sound surprised. ‘I’ll see you back at the office after the session with Steve Judson. Is that OK?’

‘Yes, that’s absolutely fine.’

When he ended the call, Cooper frowned. Somehow, Fry hadn’t sounded her usual self.

Judson caught his eye across the group and raised an eyebrow. ‘They get your PIN by focusing a camera on the keypad,’ he was saying. ‘At the end of the day, they retrieve discarded receipts. They match up the time of your withdrawal with the tape from the camera, and they’ve got both your PIN and your account number. They can produce a duplicate card and make fraudulent withdrawals as easily as if they’d stolen the genuine card. And you won’t even know anything’s happened until you see your next bank statement. That’s more than bingo – it’s the jackpot.’