‘Not when they’re covered in spilled Weetabix, they’re not.’ Saying this reminded Charlie of who she was talking to. He’ll get no illumination from my pristine office. Nothing about Kerry Gatti was pristine. He was the same self-satisfied slob he’d always been. There was an open briefcase at his feet. He’d wedged it between his legs.

Charlie pushed her lime cordial and soda over to him. ‘I’m going to get a real drink,’ she said. Kerry opened his book as she stood up. Maybe he really did want to read about black holes. If only he would fall into one.

At the bar, Charlie showed her police ID to two young men standing beside her. ‘For twenty quid each, I need you to start giving me a hard time,’ she told them. ‘Loud enough for the whole pub to hear. Accuse me of pushing in.’

‘’Ey?’ said one, slow on the uptake.

‘Let’s see the money, then,’ said his friend. Checking Kerry was busy with Stephen Hawking, Charlie gave them each a £20 note. They started laughing.

‘Is that the best you can do?’ she said. She didn’t need Oscar-winning performances from them, only a bit of high-volume aggression. They looked the sort who ought to be able to manage it. In the end, Charlie had to threaten to nick them for theft—taking her money under false pretences. Finally, one of them—the marginally brighter one—started yelling at her. Too loud, really hamming it up, but it didn’t matter. Charlie let him insult her and threaten her for about half a minute, then backed away from the bar, saying, ‘Look, forget it. I don’t want any trouble.’ As she walked back to the table, he shouted obscenities after her. Earning every penny, the fucker. Charlie heard the barman threaten to bar him if he didn’t pack it in.

‘What was that about?’ Kerry looked amused. ‘Where’s your drink?’

‘Not worth it,’ she said tersely.

‘Liver going by the name of Lily these days, is it? I’d heard as much. Come on, give us your money, I’ll go for you.’

‘I’m not giving you fuck all.’ Charlie restrained herself from asking what he’d heard. Was he referring to her transferring out of CID? Did people think that was down to fear? ‘If you want, you and your sponsor can buy me a vodka and orange.’

As soon as he’d gone to the bar, she put both her feet around his open briefcase and pulled it over to her. Inside, there was a copy of a book called Voice and the Actor, season two of The Wire on DVD, an iPod, some CDs—Rush, Pink Floyd and Genesis—and two thin blue envelope files. Charlie opened one and saw the name Aidan Seed. She froze for a second, unused to having things happen the way she wanted them to.