A red box file marked University Contacts was sat under the window ledge covered with a thin layer of dust. She leafed through the papers and pulled out the file labelled Prevent. The police contact details were on the front. She walked back to the phone and dialled the number.

#

Stoke Newington, London

Gabriel had woken at six and forced herself to go for a run – her first since Chilton Park. Dawn was still two hours away and, although the sky was starting to lighten, the stars were as clear as she had seen them in London’s light-polluted skies. She headed for the park, illegally jumped over the padlocked gate and began her first circuit. She ran for thirty minutes, up and down the park, and by the time she returned to the bedroom, where Ray was stirring, some of yesterday’s anger had been swept out of her head.

In the office, Gabriel threw herself into the massive paperwork that had accumulated over the last two weeks. Was it nearly two weeks since Chilton Park, she wondered as she sat down with a wad of files. The team working on the file for the Chilton and Pall Mall inquests were bombarding her with queries, and Tennant’s office wanted details to feed the ever-hungry media. She recalled her dad moaning about paperwork when she was a teenager. He can’t have had much then, she thought. Wonder what he’d think of all this?

Tennant called at eleven. She tensed when his number came up and contemplated letting it go to voicemail. Another slap down for her or an apology? It could go either way. She snatched at the handset.

‘Listen, Sophie,’ he said, before she could speak. ‘Yesterday. I don’t want to leave it like that. I know that Abu Mujahid is the last person you need to be dealing with right now.’

‘With all respect, sir, the fact that I have history with Abu Mujahid is irrelevant.’

‘Let me say my piece. Yesterday was out of character for you. And I hear you slammed the phone down on one of Ben Thomas’s people at the Home Office the other day.’

‘I’ve got more important things to do than write their sodding reports, sir.’

‘Don’t we all? But let me finish. MI5 tells me you’ve given short shrift to the team working on Abu Mujahid at Thames. That’s not like you. And I’ve picked up things from within SO15. Even the commissioner has asked if you’re up for this.’ Gabriel waited for the ticking off. But instead, Tennant’s tone softened. ‘Look, I’ve not called to give you a bollocking. I’ve called to give you a friendly warning…’

Gabriel bristled.

‘…and to apologise. You were right about Abu Mujahid. You are entitled to be angry that your view wasn’t taken seriously, by me in particular. Yes, I needed you focused – and the fact you were focused on the NRF meant we got the job done. But I’m sorry.’

‘That week could have made the difference, sir,’ said Gabriel.