He could see it was true that she was having a hard time. If it had been him, if he was going through a really bad week at work, he would have taken a long walk on the moors, whatever the weather. There was nothing like a good blow to clear the mind and make you feel better. There wasn’t any point in suggesting it to Diane Fry, though. Or was there?

‘So what do I do?’ he asked.

‘I told you, Ben. Get her out of the office.’

‘I’d better go now. She’s back.’

WHEN FRY CAME out of her interview, she found herself looking at her colleagues differently. Who had said what to Superintendent Branagh? Where did the disloyalty come from?

First, she eyed Gavin Murfin. Murfin grumbled, but would never stick his head above the parapet. DC Becky Hurst and DC Luke Irvine were young, they hadn’t been here too long, but they might be intimidated by Branagh into blurting out whatever she wanted them to say.

Of course, it might have been another DS on the division. Rivalry wasn’t unknown in E Division, though she couldn’t think who she’d offended. Not recently, anyway.

She looked further down the room. Cooper was the man who’d actually offered her his support, made quite a point of it, in fact. Had he been feeling guilty, trying to deflect suspicion? Or was he actually biding his time, waiting for her to slip up, looking for a chance to take the credit for himself? She knew he resented the fact that she’d gained promotion ahead of him. Maybe he’d never got over it, and had been seething ever since. Fry wondered if Cooper was really that devious. When he offered support to her face, was he stabbing her in the back at the same time?

She drew in a deep breath. A bit of extra oxygen could make the brain sharper, keep her alert. And she needed to be alert right now, more than ever. Fry had never felt so isolated. And she didn’t know where the threat might come from.

Perhaps she was being left to handle this suspicious death on the assumption that she’d mess up and strike another black mark on her PDR. But responsibility didn’t work like that in the police service – she was supposed to be supervised by more senior officers, and if things went monumentally wrong, they would be expected to take a share of the blame. The best thing she could do would be to refer upwards as often as she could, ask advice, consult her DI on the most minor decision, make sure he was fully informed at every stage. And record it. That was important. Keep a log of every action, and who she’d discussed it with.

But wait. Was that what they wanted her to do? Were they hoping that she would lose confidence, that she would prove herself incapable of taking responsibility, devoid of initiative, unable to make the smallest decision on her own? Hitchens couldn’t have planned that, it was too clever for him, too devious. But Branagh . . .