The problem was that she knew that time was now very limited for her father and that every day was valuable from this moment onwards. Instead of calling Rick she could call Frank and quit this assignment so she could spend more time with her father. She knew Frank and Dale would be hugely disappointed and the last thing she wanted to do was let them down. But she was sure they’d be able to find someone else to take her place.

It was a tough quandary and she was massively conflicted.

Her phone suddenly rang in her hand. She recognised the caller’s number as Dale’s. Hesitating a moment, she answered it.

‘Hello Dale.’

‘Hi Bailey. How are you?’

‘Okay.’

By the brief silence, she could tell he was a little nonplussed by her taciturn response, but she had too much on her mind to worry about the niceties of social interaction. She waited for him to say whatever it was he was calling her about.

‘Er… well, I was just calling to let you know that the murder investigation team have managed to locate a key witness. A homeless man who was in the vicinity of the car bomb. They’ve brought him in to answer a few questions. If you’re interested, I can get them to hold off starting until you get here.’

She sat there silently for a few moments, mulling over whether to jack in the job right now whilst he was on the phone.

‘Bailey, are you sure you’re okay?’ he asked, a tone of concern in his voice.

‘Yeah, I’m fine.’

‘It was just that it occurred to me that this homeless guy might have some information that could be of use to you in some way. You never know, right?’

She chewed her lip, torn by indecision. Should she quit the job?

‘Bailey?’ he said.

‘Sure, Dale,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I’ll be there in half an hour.’

12

Bailey stood behind the one-way glass peering into the interview room at the two detectives from the murder investigation team as they prepared to question the homeless man. They’d introduced themselves to Bailey a short while earlier – Detective Sergeant Adam Blake, who was white, and Detective Sergeant Joseph Charles, who was black. Both were clean-shaven and wearing smart suits, in polar contrast to the grimy bearded man swathed in tattered rags who was slouched opposite them across the table.

Dale, standing beside her, had shot her the odd curious look when she’d arrived, having clearly detected that something had been up with her over the phone, but he hadn’t pressed her and for that she was grateful.

‘When are you planning on getting in contact with Rick?’ he asked expectantly.

She gave him an oblique look. ‘When I’m ready.’

She was almost on the verge of telling him that she wanted to pull out of the operation, but couldn’t quite bring herself to disappoint him. Instead, she turned her attention to the scene on the other side of the glass, allowing it to distract her from having to make that momentous decision.