Ian Bennett opened the office door for her before she even reached it.

“DS Cabbot,” she said, fishing for her warrant card.

“It’s all right,” said Bennett, smiling. “I believe you. Come on in.”

She followed him into the small office.

“So this is what the well-dressed young policewoman is wearing these days,” he said, looking her up and down.

Under her navy-blue raincoat, which hung open, she was wearing boots, black tights, a short denim skirt and a white sweater, none of which she felt was particularly weird. What did he expect? A uniform? A twinset and pearls?

Bennett was younger than she had expected from the voice on the telephone, probably about her age, early thirties, with thick curly dark hair and more of a tan than you can get hanging around Yorkshire in winter. He looked as if he played sports to keep in shape, something that involved a lot of running around, such as tennis or squash, and while his salary probably didn’t stretch as far as Armani, he was wearing high-end designer casuals that must have set him back a bob or two. A mobile phone bulged ostentatiously from the pocket of his zip-up suede jacket. Annie guessed that the BMW she had parked next to was probably his.

“So this is what the well-dressed young yuppie-on-the-go is wearing to impress the girls these days,” she countered, aware as soon as she had done so that it wasn’t the best way to start an interview. Big problem, Annie: You’ve never been able to suffer fools gladly, which gives you at least one thing in common with Alan Banks. Stop thinking about him.

SecuTec had only a small office at Daleview, where Charlie Courage had spent his nights on guard duty. Annie glanced around and saw that he’d had a small television for company, along with facilities for making tea and a microwave oven for heating up his midnight snack. The office was too small for the two of them, and it smelled of warm plastic. Annie sat on what would have been Charlie’s desk and Ian Bennett leaned against the opposite wall by a company calendar. Like so many of those things, it showed a buxom, skinny-waisted smiling blonde in a bikini. She was holding a spanner.

Bennett flushed at her insult. “I suppose I deserved that,” he said, running his hand over his hair. “I always say something silly when I meet an attractive woman. Sorry. Can we start again?”

Annie gave him a low-wattage smile, the kind she reserved for the masses. “Best all round,” she said.

Bennett cleared his throat. “I’m afraid I can’t tell you very much,” he began. “I didn’t know Mr. Courage well.”

“When did he last work?”

“Sunday night. He was on the four-to-midnight shift.”

“Are you certain? Did you see him?”

“No, but he logged in. I mean, he has to log in with us so we know someone’s there.”

“How does he do this?”

Bennett pointed at the desk beside her. “Computer.”

“Could someone else have done it? Pretended to be him?”

“I suppose it’s possible. But they’d have to know his user name and his password.”

“I see. Was this the shift he always worked?”

“No. Other days he worked from midnight till eight in the morning.”

“Was he the only night watchman?”

“No. It works like this. Every day the units are open, we have the other security guard, Colin Finch, work four to midnight and Mr. Courage work midnight till eight, when the units start opening in the morning. Then, when we get to Sunday, they alternate. Colin does four to midnight Saturday, Charlie does midnight to eight. Then Colin does eight to four, and so on.”

“I see,” said Annie, who remembered the horrors of shift work very well indeed. Most of the time she hadn’t known whether she was coming or going. “So Colin Finch would have seen Mr. Courage when they changed shifts at four on Sunday?”

“Yes. I should think so.”

“Can you give me his address?”

“Of course.” Bennett fiddled with the computer and gave Annie a Ripon address. “He’ll be in at four today, though, if you’re still around.”

Annie looked at her watch. It was half past two. “Did you know that Mr. Courage had a criminal record?”

The question seemed to embarrass Bennett. “He had? Er, actually, no, we didn’t know.”

“Surely a security firm like yours runs checks on potential employees?”

“Normally we do. Yes, of course. But this one… well… it seems he slipped between the cracks.”

“‘Slipped between the cracks’?”

“Yes.”

“I see.” Annie made a note in her brand-new notebook. What she actually wrote was, “Don’t forget to pick up something for dinner at Marks amp; Sparks,” but Bennett wasn’t to know that. “Have there been any incidents at the park over the past few months, since Mr. Courage started working here?”

“No. Nothing at all. As far as SecuTec is concerned, Mr. Courage seemed to be doing his job well.”

“Nothing gone missing?”

“Nothing.”

“The other tenants, are they all satisfied?”

“Yes. As I said, we’ve had no problems, no complaints at all. I don’t suppose it’s something you police ever consider, but have you thought at all that Mr. Courage might indeed have gone straight, as they say? I mean, just because a man makes a couple of mistakes, it doesn’t mean he’s marked forever, does it?”

Annie sighed. This wasn’t going to work, she could tell. “Mr. Bennett,” she said, “why don’t you leave the recidivism-versus-rehabiliation argument to people who know what they’re talking about and just answer my questions?”

He smiled. “I thought that’s what I was doing. I mean, I’ve told you there were no problems. I was only suggesting that it might indicate Mr. Courage had changed his ways. You do believe that criminals can change their ways, don’t you, Detective Constable Cabbot?”

“It’s detective sergeant,” Annie corrected him, adding a silent “pillock” under her breath. “And I’m merely suggesting that we’ll get you back in your Beemer and on your way to your next meeting much faster if you simply answer my questions.”

Bennett fiddled with his mobile, as if hoping it would ring. “Carry on,” he said, with a drawn-out, long-suffering sigh.

Annie smiled to herself. He would no doubt tell his guests at tonight’s dinner party or whatever about his brush with police brutality. “What exactly were his duties?” she asked.

“He was supposed to walk around the park, check doors and everything once an hour. To be honest, though, it wasn’t much of a job; there wasn’t a lot for him to do.”

“I shouldn’t think so with all these modern security gizmos. Why bother hiring a night watchman at all, then?”

“It was a matter of appearances, really. The tenants like it. Believe it or not, no matter how many sophisticated alarm systems you put in place, people always feel a bit more confident if there’s human being around.”

“That’s comforting,” said Annie. “I don’t suppose I need to worry about Robocop much anymore.”

“Sorry?”

“A joke. Never mind. Carry on.”

“Oh, I see. A copper with a sense of humor. Anyway, having someone on the premises discourages vandals, too.”

“What about a dog?”

“They can be effective, but you can’t just leave them alone. Besides, there’s the whole problem of lawsuits if they actually bite anyone.”

“How did Mr. Courage get the job?”

“He applied through normal channels. I must say, he seemed credible enough.”

“The mark of a master criminal.”

“You’re joking again?” Bennett smiled.

Annie didn’t smile back. “Mr. Courage was paid by check, am I correct?”

“Actually, no. His wages were paid directly into his bank account.”

“Were there ever any cash bonuses?”

Bennett frowned. “Cash bonuses? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Cash in hand.”

“Certainly not. That’s not SecuTec’s policy.”

“And no money has ever been reported missing by any of the businesses operating out of this park during the period of Mr. Courage’s employment as night watchman?”