“She’s not a suspect yet. There’s no evidence to suggest she did anything to that man. Ruby would never do anything to hurt anyone. She’s a loving, gentle person. And anyway, he deserved it.”

He threw up his hands. “My point exactly. You can’t be objective.”

“But sir, I—”

“Fred West was someone’s little boy, you know. Ted Bundy’s mother said he was the perfect son.”

“This is nothing like that. Why are you—”

“No arguments. You know what’s right, Jo. Don’t force me to suspend you, because if it comes to it, I won’t need much persuading.”

“Couldn’t I be kept on as an advisor? Even unofficially? I’ve got more of a chance of talking her round. For instance, she’d hand the kid to me, if it came to it.”

He hardened his expression, ignoring what she’d said. “I’ll send you your new case in a day or two. Why don’t you take a couple of days off? Have a nice rest, a Christmas break. Gather your thoughts.”

“But—”

He held up his hand, his palm facing her. “Stop talking. Get your stuff. Go home.”

She crossed her arms. “Did you tell the chief constable yet about what happened this morning when your delay in communication meant that man could assault that porter?”

The DI stepped toward her and waggled a finger in her face. “Don’t threaten me, Joanna. I can guarantee it will not end well for you.”

They locked eyes for a tense few seconds.

“Fine. I’ll go.” She grabbed her jacket and picked up her satchel. “Who are you putting in charge?”

“Steve Atkinson can hold the fort for now. I’ll keep a close eye on proceedings. Don’t worry. We’ll find the fugitive.”

“Before he finds Ruby and Leonie? How can you be so sure? You saw what he did.”

“It’s not your concern anymore. You need to leave it to us now. Go home.”

“Not my concern?”

“Would you like to speak to a family liaison officer?

Harper didn’t trust herself to speak. She stalked from the room without another word.

CHAPTER

41

NOW

Ruby

Tuesday, December 25

AT FIRST LIGHT, Ruby was woken by a scream. She opened her eyes to find Leonie standing by the wood burner, her hand in front of her face, mouth wide, eyes wide, shock and pain and outrage all at once. The child inhaled quickly and began crying her silent cry, in which the only noise came from snatched breaths in between each soundless sob. Ruby jumped from the narrow bed and picked her up, held the small hand and turned it over, looking for what was wrong.

“Did you touch the stove, honey? Did you burn yourself?”

Sam thundered from the other end of the boat, topless and sleep drunk. “What’s going on? Is she hurt?”