You truly are a sleeping beauty. Didn’t want to wake you as I know you must be tired after the long hours you’ve been working. Have to be at a site survey for 8 a.m., so need to pop home and get changed. Thank you for being so understanding. I will never let my past come between us again. I think I’m falling in love with you, Jane Tennison . . . Love, Nick xxxx

Jane smiled, and as she got ready for work, a warm glow stayed with her. She arrived at the incident room just after eight. It was already full, as officers on the inquiry completed their reports for the meeting with DCS Barnes. She checked the fax in-tray for the Canadian odontologist’s report and quickly scanned it. He was in no doubt that Melissa Bailey was the victim. Although it wasn’t in itself a big step forward, it would allow the coroner to release the body to her parents and they could take her home. It was a sad thought, but in some ways comforting that after years of heartache they could finally lay her to rest and know she was at peace.

Jane sat at the desk opposite Boon who was reading over their report.

‘Morning, Boony. Anything you want to add to the report?’

‘No, it looks fine to me,’ he replied with a hang-dog look.

‘You all right?’ she asked.

‘I got stood up by Becky. I sat in the effin’ pub for an hour waiting for her.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe something important came up and she couldn’t get hold of you?’ Jane suggested.

‘I tried calling her, but there was no answer. I thought she might have gone out with her flatmate instead . . . or another bloke,’ he said glumly.

‘Have you tried ringing her at work?’

‘Yes, but she’s not in yet. I knew it was all too bloody good to be true. I feel like she’s just used me to get information about the investigation.’

‘I doubt that’s the case. Becky did take you to meet Annette Gorman, which led us to Julie Dorton and Sister Margaret, after all.’

He perked up a bit. ‘I guess so. I’ll try calling her again after the meeting.’

Jane told him about the foxglove seeds.

‘Bloody hell. As if strangling and stabbing Melissa wasn’t enough. The foxglove stinks of Mother Adele’s handiwork.’

‘Not necessarily. She might have warned others about the danger of handling or digesting the plants, thus innocently passing on her knowledge – possibly even to Meade, who was a regular visitor to the convent.’

‘Fair point,’ Boon said.

‘I spoke with Melissa’s father in Canada last night,’ Jane said. She told Boon about her conversation with Lawrence Bailey.

‘So, Meade also lied to him about knowing Melissa. The evidence against him is definitely mounting.’

*