‘I’m not at liberty to tell you why, except to say that it is a Special Branch matter. I’m not sure who you are reporting to, but if you want to contest this, it needs to go up to the chief constable.’

Gillard, tipped off by the two PCs, had emailed a request for details of the Special Branch interest in Leticia Mountjoy from Chief Constable Alison Rigby. If there was something bigger going on involving her, he needed to avoid treading on any sensitive toes. He assumed it was unlikely to concern her involvement in probation work, but couldn’t imagine what else it might be. Witness protection was a possibility, perhaps. He waited in his office doing paperwork after the end of his shift, hoping for a reply. It was gone seven and he was about to give up when the chief constable rang him. ‘Craig, I’m sorry I can’t give you the information you requested. But trust me, it’s much less exciting than you might imagine.’

Feeling frustrated and dissatisfied, Gillard logged out, locked his office and drove home. When he got there at eight o’clock, Sam was sitting in front of the TV, fully dressed. This was good news. The last few times he’d come in at this hour, she’d been in a bathrobe with little sign she’d strayed far from bed. ‘How was your day?’ he asked.

‘It was good. I’ve been to the gym, and my one-to-one psychotherapy was really helpful today. Have you made any progress on the dead man in the river?’

He was pleased that she had begun to ask about his work again. Sam’s near-death experience in an abduction a few months ago had put her into a very dark place mentally. The psychologist said that her therapy was going well, and the group PTSD talk sessions were certainly helping to exorcise her personal demons. He had noticed that she seemed a little less clingy than she had in the early weeks, too. He adored holding her, and feeling her close, but sometimes her need for it had been a little too intense.

‘Are you feeling well enough to come with me to see Trish tomorrow?’ he asked. Gillard’s elderly aunt had been in a coma in Redhill Hospital for weeks. The bleed on her brain had been stopped, but she was still in a critical condition. Although the nursing staff said she was completely unaware of her surroundings, Gillard had found time to drop in to see her twice a week. She wasn’t his favourite person, but even when unconscious she managed to exert a powerful feeling of guilt over him.

‘Yes, why not?’ Sam said. ‘I’m prepared for horror stories. I’m going to watch Panorama tonight, about Neville Rollason,’ she said proudly.