Kate heard Caitlin before she saw him. Since the news had spread about him working on the case, the whole of the station had been in a state of excitement. She groaned inwardly. He was like something from a Boy’s Own comic. A real macho man. She stayed seated until the excitement wore off. Caitlin’s loud Irish accent boomed over everyone’s heads.

‘Sure Jesus, would you let a man get some air here!’

Everyone was greeting him. He was a living legend. Poor old Fabian and Spilsbury weren’t even in the running where Caitlin was concerned. He made Sherlock Holmes look amateurish! Kate saw his bulky form moving towards her desk. She had worked with him once before, when she had been a Detective Sergeant. After she had been introduced to him he had sent her to get him a cup of coffee, but not before patting her behind. He had solved the case with a male DS and a DC. Or that was how it had looked on the final report. Kate fixed a smile on her face.

‘Katie! How are you?’ His voice sounded genuinely pleased to see her. She stood up and held out her hand.

‘Chief Inspector Caitlin.’

He looked old. Kate was shocked. The man looked positively ancient. His head was nearly bald, his full mouth had that loose-lipped look peculiar to ageing men, and his startling green eyes were now watery-looking. The lids were wrinkled above them like old venetian blinds.

‘You don’t look a day older than the last time I worked with you.’ The Irish burr was more pronounced than she remembered. ‘I’ve been hearing great things about you, great things.’

Kate smiled.

Caitlin pulled up a chair and sat down opposite her.

‘As we’ll be working together, I thought we could share a desk. Make it more personal.’

Kate felt the smile freeze on her face. The smell of Teacher’s and cheap cigars wafted across the confined space and she cringed inwardly.

Caitlin settled himself in the chair.

‘Now what’s this I hear about this madman driving an Irish Ford?’

Kate’s heavy brows knitted together.

‘I’m sorry? An Irish Ford?’

‘An O’Ryan . . . Orion.’

Kate burst out laughing, causing many pairs of eyes to focus on her. Caitlin laughed with her. He leant across the desk in a confidential manner, scanning the room shrewdly. He tapped his nose.

‘You can call me Kenny.’ He nodded at her and Kate realised with growing dismay that the man was drunk. She forced the smile back on to her face.

‘Whatever you say. Now shall I fill you in on all that I have?’

Caitlin leaned back in his chair. Opening his coat, he took out his handkerchief and blew his nose loudly.

‘You do that, Katie. The sooner this bastard’s caught the better.’

Well, they agreed on that much anyway. Taking a deep breath, Kate started to talk.

Chapter Twelve