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Chapters (38)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Chatper One
  4. Chapter Two
  5. Chapter Three
  6. Chapter Four
  7. Chapter Five
  8. Chapter Six
  9. Chapter Seven
  10. Chapter Eight
  11. Chapter Nine
  12. Chapter Ten
  13. Chapter Eleven
  14. Chapter Twelve
  15. Chapter Thirteen
  16. Chapter Fourteen
  17. Chapter Fifteen
  18. Chapter Sixteen
  19. Chapter Seventeen
  20. Chapter Eighteen
  21. Chapter Nineteen
  22. Chapter Twenty
  23. Chapter Twenty-One
  24. Chapter Twenty-Two
  25. Chapter Twenty-Three
  26. Chapter Twenty-Four
  27. Chapter Twenty-Five
  28. Chapter Twenty-Six
  29. Chapter Twenty-Seven
  30. Chapter Twenty-Eight
  31. Chapter Twenty-Nine
  32. Chapter Thirty
  33. Chapter Thirty-One
  34. Chapter Thirty-Two
  35. Acknowledgements
  36. About the Author
  37. Lynda La Plante Readers’ Club
  38. Letter from Author

‘I’m on a bit of a high, to be honest,’ he said. ‘I don’t feel tired. Shall I start on the plans or the paperwork?’

‘Whatever suits you,’ Jane said, with a smile.

‘Documents it is then . . . or should I do a report on the Barry May arrest and my visit to the planning office first?’

‘Do the report. DCS Barnes will no doubt want to read it on Monday. I’ll take the plans home with me and have a look at them over the weekend,’ Jane told him.

*

By seven the office was empty apart from Jane and Boon. She’d finished her report and looked up to see how he was doing. She tried not to laugh, watching his head fall forward and jolt up again as he struggled to concentrate and stay awake whilst typing his report with two fingers.

‘You nearly finished, Boony?’ she asked in a loud voice.

He quickly sat upright. ‘Nearly, sarge. I’m on the last paragraph.’

Jane went to the store cupboard in the corner of the room and removed a large exhibits bag. She picked up the plans from Boon’s desk and put them in the bag.

‘Do you want me to look at the building documents over the weekend?’ Boon asked.

‘Don’t worry, I’ll do it,’ she said, picking up the folder and putting it in the exhibits bag.

‘I know what to look for,’ he said, sounding offended.

‘I’ve not got anything planned for the weekend so I’ve plenty of time to spare. No doubt you’ll be playing football for the Met.’

‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a game against Essex police tomorrow. Inter-police games are always bloodbaths.’

‘Don’t get yourself injured. I need you on my team, fit and healthy.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ he grinned. ‘Do you reckon Barnes will form a full murder squad?’

‘I think he’ll have to. So far, everything points to our victim being murdered between 1958 and 1965, when the convent was sold. That time span means whoever killed her could still be alive.’

‘I hope Barnes puts me on the squad.’

‘I’m sure he will. He’s already let you continue working on the investigation with me. Your knowledge of the case works in your favour. It’s also useful to anyone else who comes on the team. Have a good weekend and I hope you win the game. Be here at eight on Monday morning and we’ll go over everything before the meeting with Barnes. Then you can head off to the magistrates’ court for May’s first appearance.’

*