‘So the vixen’s got claws, has she? Flash bitch! If she’d spoken to me like that I’d have punched her in the mouth.’

A female voice from a nearby table said, ‘Very macho, Spencer. Sure you ain’t the rapist? I hear the victim had a broken nose.’

‘Get stuffed!’ Spencer went back to his cronies and sat down.

‘Bloody women. Whoever it was who let them in the force in the first place wants psychiatric help. As for that Burrows . . . Uppity cow!’

‘She’s been put in charge of the murder and rape, so you’d best get used to it.’

Spencer looked at the speaker. ‘Well, let’s see how well she does, shall we? Personally she gets on my wick.’

‘Maybe that’s what’s wrong with you, Spencer. She won’t be getting on your wick.’

Everyone laughed.

Spencer picked up his cup of tea and with his free hand shoved his middle finger under the other man’s nose.

‘Spin on it, Fisher.’

Fisher grinned.

‘Only if you ask me nicely!’ He fluttered his eyelashes suggestively.

Spencer drank his tea down. Bloody women. It would take a rape to bring out their true colours. He wouldn’t mind but the silly bitch O’Leary had probably been asking for it.

Kate Burrows sat in her office and tried to calm down. She admitted that she had been hard on Willis, but he got on her nerves. Most of the plain clothes at Grantley CID got on her nerves. She rubbed her hand over her face. She had been on the receiving end of discrimination since she had joined the force, it was an occupational hazard. But this lot here . . .

She turned her attention to the file in front of her. She wanted every bit of information imprinted on her brain. As in most of the cases she worked on, she wanted to be more knowledgeable than her male counterparts. She began to read.

A little while later there was a tap on her door.

‘Come in.’

The door opened and Willis walked into the room.

‘Yes?’ Her voice was clipped.

Willis nodded. ‘Ma’am, Superintendent Ratchette would like to see you, if you’re not too busy.’

‘Thank you, Willis.’

She watched him turn and walk meekly from the room. Mentally, Kate licked her finger and chalked one up to herself.

‘You wanted to see me, sir?’

Superintendent Ratchette smiled at her as she entered his office.

‘Sit down, Kate. I suppose you know that we have had the nationals on to us already?’

She grimaced. ‘I didn’t know, but I guessed it wouldn’t take long.’

‘Well, as usual they’re making a nuisance of themselves. We must try and contain this as much as possible. Hopefully this is just a one-off thing. It’s all we need, especially with Christmas not two weeks away.’ Superintendent Ratchette’s voice was tired and Kate felt sorry for him.