‘As I said just a second ago, charge her with what?’

‘Withholding evidence, resisting arrest, to name but two.’

He looked at Joanne, who was standing next to Paul, looking at the floor, her face streaked with tears.

‘I must say, I’ve never seen a more compliant subject, Sergeant.’

‘Well she is now, but half an hour ago she was screaming bloody murder.’

‘That’s not true,’ Ian shouted, his handcuffed arms held lightly by Paul. The sergeant raised an eyebrow at Nell and she knew she’d lost.

‘Are you going to be the one to tell my DCI you’ve let his suspect go, or am I?’

‘You are, Sergeant Jackson, and you might ask him to train his officers not to waste my time while you’re at it.’

Nell didn’t answer. Turning to Paul, she said, ‘You OK to book him in?’ She nodded at Ian.

‘Sure.’

‘I assume you’re going to let us book him for resisting arrest?’ she asked the custody sergeant.

‘That one I’ll do for you.’

‘Much obliged.’ And she didn’t bother hiding the sarcastic tone.

In the office, Nell sat down in her chair and leaned her head back, staring up at the ceiling. The custody sergeant had wound her up so much she needed a cigarette, but feeling in her pocket, she realised she’d left them in the car. ‘Just fucking typical.’

Carla came to the door of Bremer’s office. ‘What?’

‘I’ve just had a run-in with a job-pissed custody sergeant and now I’ve got no cigarettes. And what are you doing in there?’

Carla looked tired. The trademark red lipstick had worn off; it made her look younger.

‘Want me to roll you one?’

Nell couldn’t think of anything worse than a rolly, but her nicotine craving overrode her disgust. ‘Sure, thanks. Join me?’

‘Yeah, why not.’

Outside was cooler than it had been in weeks. Clouds passed the sun, shutting out light before suddenly revealing it again. Nell took a drag of the roll-up.

‘Not bad. Smooth.’ She watched a cloud, the underneath of which carried rain past them, and felt the anger of the last half-hour pass with it. ‘What were you doing in Bremer’s office?’

Carla looked uncomfortable.

‘What’s wrong?’

Carla let out a sigh that felt to Nell as if she was giving in, offloading something into the air, allowing it to drift away with the smoke.

‘I think Gerry is the policeman who saved Mary and the baby.’

‘What? The fat sergeant? Eve’s husband?’

‘Yeah. And I also think Joanne could be Aoife’s baby.’

‘How did you get to that?’ Nell listened as Carla explained the timeline. She wasn’t convinced. ‘But that could just be a coincidence. That Joanne’s the same age. There’s nothing really to link her to Gerry, is there?’

She could tell from Carla’s face there was.

‘Jesus. What is it?’