‘Jazz, please,’ she smiled, thinking how pleasant it was to look up for a change. This man’s stature made her feel petite.

She’d guess Jonathan was in his late twenties. His features were such that he could not be called traditionally handsome: his blue eyes were too close together, set above a long and hawk-like nose. His face was gaunt, his cheekbones like razors, giving him a hungry, bohemian look. But he was an attractive man, nevertheless.

‘Shall we?’ Jonathan indicated they should walk.

‘Yes.’

Jonathan set off at a lick. Jazz struggled to keep in step with the pair of long legs that ate up the ground beneath them.

‘It’s very good of you to spare the time to see me.’

‘Well, I’m not sure what help I can be, but I’ll do my best.’ Jazz smiled, following him down an alleyway.

He stopped in front of a pub Jazz knew well as a popular student watering hole.

‘Okay to go in here?’ He stared at her hard.

‘Fine,’ she nodded, and followed him through the door. The pub was empty and Jazz took a seat in the corner, whilst Jonathan went to the bar to order the drinks.

‘White wine for you, not sure what it’s like, though.’ Jonathan put a glass on the table and sat down opposite her, cradling a pint in his large hands. ‘Cheers.’ He clinked his glass against hers.

‘Cheers,’ Jazz smiled back and took a sip. The wine erred on the side of vinegar. ‘So, fire away and tell me what you want to know.’

‘Right.’ Jonathan drew a small tape recorder and a notebook out of one of his capacious coat pockets.

‘You’re recording this?’

‘Yes, if you don’t mind. I can just take notes if you prefer.’

‘It depends on what you’re going to ask me.’

‘Nothing particularly outrageous. My dissertation, as your father might have told you, is on the state of the criminal justice system in the new millennium. I’ve prepared some questions for you.’

‘I feel a little like one of my suspects when I haul them in for questioning.’ Jazz indicated the recorder. ‘Go on then. Do me good to see what it’s like on the other side of the fence.’

‘Okay.’ Jonathan switched the recorder on.

‘You’re meant to caution me now, ask if I want a solicitor present.’ She smiled at him.

‘I suppose I should,’ he nodded. ‘Right, the first question I want to ask you is whether, in your position on the front line of apprehending criminals, you’re satisfied with the current justice system?’

Jazz bit her lip. ‘Did my father tell you this is my pet subject?’

‘No, but surely it must be the bane of every officer’s life to spend months on an investigation, arrest the alleged perpetrator, then watch him walk free from the court on a technicality?’

There was a pause before Jazz replied. ‘Jonathan, there are two ways I can do this. If you’re naming me in your dissertation, then I would toe the party line. If you’re not and we turn that thing off, I can give you a much more honest overview. Now, which would you prefer?’