Kelly could smell him. His familiar body scent took her back to a memory that dripped with regret.

‘Suppose everyone will get what they want today. And then we can all go back to normal,’ he said.

Kelly bit her tongue and willed herself to look at him. She spotted a defence barrister behind him, who took his arm gently and asked him to join them. He eyed her suspiciously, as did the whole defence team, as if she were a smear on their campaign, and Johnny gave his apologies.

She breathed again and Ted placed himself in front of her, blocking her view of the defence team.

‘Coffee?’ he asked. She nodded. They were standing right beside the machine and Ted leant over, putting his credit card against the reader and punching in codes for a cappuccino. Finally, she spotted the prosecution barristers and they approached her though the crowd. Suddenly she was with allies. She wished she’d let Kate come. The feeling of being outnumbered was overwhelming – anyone would think she was attending a high-profile retrial, or some kind of controversial case where a huge miscarriage of justice was about to take place, not a murderer getting what he deserved.

An announcement signalled that the court was ready, and a rush of pushing and shoving ensued. The public gallery had been packed to bursting every time she’d been in: vultures circling over the details of death. It made her question everything about what she did. She had staff going off sick all over her department, the strain of too much work and too few resources was pinching them all so tightly that they struggled for air. The reputation of the police in the press had reached an all-time low; morale was in tatters. Maybe it was time to get out.

But this was all she knew. Her gut told her what to do and always had.

They took their seats and watched the jury file in, and then stood for the judge to enter. At least in here she was able to breathe because no fucker was allowed to talk apart from the poor bastard in the stand.

Ian Burton never took the stand. He kept his secrets with him, and she knew he always would. She’d met enough serial offenders to know that he was the type who loved the power of withholding information. She drained her coffee and wished she’d got another, if only for something to do with her hands.

She felt a burning sensation in her neck on the right side and realised that Johnny was staring at her. She turned her face to meet his as they all sat down. She kept her eyes on his and continued to look at him as he sat. There was no way she was looking away first.

He did.

She turned back with satisfaction. It was childish, she knew, but it felt good.

Chapter 4