'Why don't you change the book from within?' I asked.

'Change without permission?' he replied, shocked at my suggestion. 'That would mean rebellion. I want to get the C of G's attention but not like that – we'd be crushed in less than a chapter!'

'But if the inspectorate haven't been round yet,' I said slowly, 'then how would they even know anything had changed?'

He thought about this for a moment.

'Easier said than done – if I start to fool with the narrative it might all collapse like a pack of cards!'

'Then start small,' I proposed, 'change yourself first. If that works, you can try to bend the plot slightly.'

'Y-esss,' said Jack slowly. 'What did you have in mind?'

'Give up the booze.'

'How did you know about my drink problem?'

'All maverick loner detectives with domestic strife have drink problems,' I commented. 'Give up the liquor and go home to your wife.'

'That's not how I've been written,' replied Jack slowly. 'I just can't do it – it would be going against type – the readers—!'

'Jack, there are no readers. And if you don't at least try what I suggest, there never will be any readers – or any Jack Spratt. But if things go well, you might even be in … a sequel.'

'A sequel?' repeated Jack with a sort of dreamy look in his eyes. 'You mean – a Jack Spratt series?

'Who knows,' I added, 'maybe even one day a boxed set.'

His eyes gleamed and he stood up.

'A boxed set,' he whispered, staring into the middle distance. 'It's up to me, isn't it?' he added in a slow voice.

'Yes. Change yourself, change the book – and soon, before it's too late, make the novel into something the Book Inspectorate will want to read.'

'Okay,' he said at last, 'beginning with the next chapter. Instead of arguing with Briggs about letting a suspect go without charging them, I'll take my ex-wife out to lunch.'

'No.'

'No?'

'No,' I affirmed. 'Not tomorrow or next chapter or even next page or paragraph – you're going to change now.'

'We can't!' he protested. 'There are at least nine more pages while you and I discuss the state of the body with Dr Singh and go through all that boring forensic stuff.'

'Leave it to me,' I told him. 'We'll jump back a paragraph or two. Ready?'

He nodded and we moved to the top of the previous page, just as Briggs was leaving.

Jack did indeed get it and Briggs departed.

He shivered in the cold and looked at the young DS again. 'Mary Jones, eh?'

'Yes, sir.'

'What have you found out so far?'

She dug in her pocket for a notebook, couldn't find it so counted the points off on her fingers instead.

'Deceased's name is Sonny DeFablio.'

'What else?'

'Your wife phoned.'

'She … did?'

'Yes. Said it was important.'

'I'll drop by this evening.'

'She said it was very urgent,' stressed Jones.