From somewhere in the building she could hear the sound of water dripping. The water supply would have been turned off at the stop tap. She guessed it was residual rainwater from a roof damaged by fire and time now exposed to the elements.

As she stood in the doorway she saw that the corridor ran the length of the building, splitting it in half. When she looked to her right the walls were painted an off-white. A film of dust was visible in places but was untouched by the fire.

To her left, the wooden beams supporting the floor above were exposed and blackened. The door frames were charred and only a few patches of paint remained on the walls at low level. Wires and cables hung exposed from between the beams.

Debris and fallen ceiling tiles littered the corridor floor. The damage appeared to worsen as it travelled further towards the edge of the building.

Kim stepped back into the kitchen and surveyed the damage again. The wall units closest to the door were mottled with the marble effect of scorched wood. The doors of the fridge and freezer had buckled and were hanging off but the area closest to the six ring cooker sat beneath a light covering of soot.

She opened the door of the wall unit closest to the cooker. Rodent droppings fell onto the hob. A piece of A4 paper was tacked on the inside of the door. The print was still visible. It listed the names of girls on the left hand side and a grid indicating the allocated chore for the week.

Kim paused for a moment. Her hand reached up and touched the first few names. She had been one of these girls, not here and not then but subconsciously she knew every single girl on the list. She knew their loneliness, their pain, their anger.

Kim was suddenly struck by a memory from foster family number five. In the small box room at the back of the house she would hear gentle coo-cooing all through the night from the house next door.

Each time the racing pigeons were released she would watch them, willing them to fly away, escape their captivity and be free. But they never did.

Places like Crestwood were the same. Occasionally the birds would be set free but they always seemed to fly back.

Like prison, release from a children's home came with farewells that held hope and good wishes but never finality.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a siren in the distance. She clambered onto the work surface and bent herself through the window onto the top of the bin and down on to the ground.

She dragged the bin to the fence just as the siren and the car engine died.

‘Morning, Kelvin, why the blues?’ Bryant shouted.

Kim rolled her eyes and stood against the fence.

‘Had a report that someone was seen inside this building.’

Great, the police were here for her.

Bryant chuckled. ‘Nah, it’s just me snooping around. Caught a shit job today babysitting this bloody digging crew and I was just curious about what was behind here.’

‘But you’ve not been in the building?’ the constable asked doubtfully.

‘No, mate, how stupid do you think I am?’

‘Fair enough, Detective. I’ll leave you to it.’

The constable began to walk away but then turned and took a couple of steps back. ‘Shit job from your boss, Detective?’ he asked.

‘Who else?’

‘Gotta tell you, Sir, you have the condolences of most of the station having to work with that ballbreaker.’

Bryant chuckled. ‘You know, if she could hear you, she’d probably agree.’

‘She is a bit cold, though, eh?’

Kim nodded from behind the fence. Yeah, she was happy with that.

‘Nah, she’s not as bad as you think.’

Kim almost growled. Yes, she really was.

‘In fact, she was only saying the other day that it would be nice if you guys struck up conversation with her now and again.’

She’d bloody kill Bryant. Slowly.

‘No problem, Sir. I’ll bear that in mind.’

As the constable walked away he transmitted back to the control room that the premises were all in order.

‘Bastard,’ Kim spat through the fence.

‘Oops, sorry, Guv. Didn’t realise you were there ... listening.’

Kim stood on the bin, and exited the area the same way she’d entered.

She landed on her feet but fell into Bryant and knocked him sideways.

‘Oh, sorry,’ she said.

‘On the scale of genuine apologies, I’d rate that at minus seven.’

‘Detectives,’ the professor said, appearing beside them. ‘We’re ready to begin.’

Bryant caught her gaze and held it as the professor turned and walked away.

‘So, did you learn anything on your illegal fact-finding mission?’

. ‘Contrary to the written report, that fire did not start in the kitchen.’

Eighteen

Kim caught up with the professor as he neared Bill and Ben, as she had nicknamed his volunteers.

‘Doctor Matthews has done an initial survey of the soil to find there is a large clay content.’

Not much of a surprise in the Black Country.

‘Such conditions affect the performance of ground penetrating radar so we’re going to start with a magnetometer.’

‘Gesundheit,’ Bryant offered.

The professor ignored her colleague and carried on speaking to her as though she had a clue. Kim rarely questioned the expertise of others. She trusted people to do their jobs effectively and she expected the same in return.

‘The magnetometer uses sensors to measure the gradient of the magnetic field. Different materials can cause disturbances and this particular tool can detect anomalies caused by disturbed soils or decayed organic materials.’

Bill started walking towards them with Ben behind. To Kim, he looked like something from The Terminator. Over his shoulder rested a black strap fixed to a metal rod approximately six feet in length that he held horizontally at waist height. On the front tip of the pole was a second rod fixed so he carried a giant letter T. Attached to each end of the smaller rod were sensors. Black cables travelled to the reader strapped around his waist and a black canvas holdall was fixed to his back.

‘We’ll start down there at the bottom edge and work in straight lines. A bit like how you’d mow the lawn.’

Kim nodded and the three of them moved away.

Doctor Matthews and his assistant had retreated to the warmth of the car.

‘You gonna be okay with this, Guv?’ Bryant asked.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ she snapped.

‘Well, you know ...’

‘No, I don’t know and if you feel the need to question my capability, take it to my boss.’

‘Guv, I would never do that. It was a question asked out of concern.’

‘I’m fine, now leave it alone.’

She never talked about her past but Bryant knew she’d spent time in the care system. He didn’t know the things that had happened to her there. He knew she had a mother who was a paranoid schizophrenic. But he didn't know the repercussions of that. He knew she’d once had a twin brother but he didn’t know how he’d died. Only one person knew all the events of her past and she was damn sure it was going to stay that way.

The phone in her pocket rang. It was Woody.

‘Sir?’ she answered, expectantly.

‘Still waiting, Stone. I’m just checking that you remember what we talked about.’

‘Of course, Sir.’

‘Because if you act against my instructions ...’

‘Sir, please, you can trust me.’

Bryant shook his head.

‘If I don’t have the authorisation in the next couple of hours stand Professor Milton down and thank him for his time.’

‘Yes, Sir,’ she said. Thank God he didn’t know about Doctor Matthews.