We’d barely got through the front doors of Ffyvells, when Liv turned a rancid green and clutched at my arm. ‘I feel ill,’ she said, through gritted teeth, as we headed to the lifts.

‘It’s your own fault,’ I said, steering her into the open doors of the nearest one. ‘You’re a one-woman crime spree.’

She managed a rather more shame-faced giggle, but looked so woebegone I couldn’t be cross with her. She was wilting on the spot and, as the lift began to ascend, she turned even greener.

‘Come on,’ I said, as it opened at our floor. ‘Just get to your desk. I’ll go up and get you a coffee.’

‘Eugh.’ She followed me out and past Pascale’s desk towards her own. Just as we passed Max’s office, he came out. He had dark shadows under his eyes, and looked almost as pale as Liv.

‘Grace,’ he said. ‘I trust you’re planning on staying today?’

‘Yes, Max,’ I said, flushing. All I could think of was Jimmy’s words about the ad campaign being rushed through. That was designed to delight Max, and I hoped fervently that it would be at least the weekend before the first ads were launched.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘And Liv – I have corrections from yesterday.’

She didn’t respond for a moment, just looked at him, her eyes widening further and further. When she did speak, it was to put her hand to her mouth and say, ‘I’m sorry, Max – I’m going to be sick.’

He looked from one of us to the other. ‘What is this?’ he said. ‘Have you two moved to shift work, and forgotten to tell me?’

Liv shook her head briefly, before bolting in the direction of the Ladies.

I was left, facing Max.

‘This,’ he said, finally. ‘Has got to stop.’

I nodded. ‘Sorry, Max.’

‘The Grewer account is on your desk.’ He turned and went back into his office without another word. He sounded more weary than angry, and I felt guilty. I knew already my mind wasn’t going to be on my work, and there seemed nothing I could do about it. I sat at my desk, determined to do my best to concentrate.

‘Come on, Grace,’ I told myself, aloud, as I sat down and opened the Grewer files. ‘You can do this. Just put your mind to it, and forget about him.’

‘Yes,’ said Max, from over my shoulder. I hadn’t even heard him coming over, but he was standing behind me, a sheaf of documents in his hand. ‘Forget about him. Or forget about me – your decision.’

I took the papers without a word and set about the work of the day.

    Nineteen

Him

‘Please Sir.’ Rick’s voice came high and fast through the line. ‘I know you don’t owe me anything, but I’m begging you. They’ve let me go. I told them I did it, but they won’t keep me in.’

‘Well,’ I said, not following. ‘That’s good news, isn’t it? For you, at least.’

‘No, Sir,’ he was practically gabbling. ‘You don’t understand. It was her father. The girl’s. He came in – I saw him – and spoke to that woman. She came in straight after, and told me I was free to go.’

‘So?’ I was still tired from the night before, and his words weren’t making much sense. ‘Giles said he wasn’t pressing charges.’

‘That’s what I mean,’ he said. ‘I’m not safe. I even admitted killing Charlotte, and they still let me walk.’

‘Where are you?’ The magnitude of his words was finally sinking in.

‘Still at the station.’ It sounded like he was starting to cry. ‘I don’t know where to go.’

‘I’ll be right there,’ I said. ‘Wait for me outside.’

I dressed quickly, and made my way down to the car park. It didn’t sound promising and the quicker I got there, the better. If Rick had admitted killing Charlotte, it meant I was finally off the hook. But it wasn’t just that. The fact that he was free to go smacked of skulduggery of a political nature, and I didn’t like it. Not one bit.

It was still rush hour, though, and the traffic was obstinately slow all the way. By the time I got there, I knew Rick would be climbing the walls. It served him right, of course, but he’d been one of my men, and the trouble he was in now was grave and personal. He deserved to pay for what he’d done to Charlotte and Felicity, but it had to be clear and above board, for both our sakes.

When I finally pulled up outside, he was nowhere to be seen. I jumped out the car and, after looking everywhere outside, went into the station. I couldn’t see him in there, either, and I could feel panic setting in – the chill of it sending a shiver up my spine as my heart began to race.

I went up to the front desk. ‘I’m looking for a Rick Palmer,’ I said to the young officer behind the desk. ‘You had him in custody – let him go an hour or so ago.’

‘Just a moment, Sir,’ said the officer, and turned to his computer. ‘Yes, he was released. I’m afraid I can’t tell you where he is now.’

‘Can’t? Or won’t?’ I could hear my voice rising, as the blood rushed in my ears. ‘Who took him?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t help you.’ The officer shrugged. ‘He left of his own accord, as far as I know.’

Of course he did. I’d told him to wait for me outside. I felt myself go limp.

‘Where’s DI Brown?’ I said, not wanting to see her, but knowing I had to.

‘Just a moment, Sir.’ He turned away, putting his phone to his ear.

It felt like hours until she appeared, standing there at the entrance to the custody suite, one hand on her hip and her eyebrow raised. I was almost pleased to see her. ‘Where’s Rick?’ I said, not caring who else was listening.

‘Come through,’ she said, pursing her lips. ‘It looks like your day’s begun as badly as mine.’

We went through to the interview room.

‘Why did you let him go?’ I said, as soon as she closed the door.

‘I had nothing to hold him on,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Believe me, I’m no happier about it.’

‘You have no idea,’ I said.

‘About what?’ She frowned. ‘What have I no idea about?’

I paused for a moment, not knowing what to say. ‘You shouldn’t have let him go,’ I said, finally.

‘I had nothing to hold him on,’ she said. She sounded tired, and sat down heavily in the seat I’d seen her in so many times before. ‘It wasn’t for the want of trying.’

‘But he blackmailed Felicity Flint,’ I said. ‘She’s in a coma.’

I knew it wasn’t enough, before she even spoke.

‘No charges have been brought,’ she said, sounding as frustrated as I felt. ‘I tried to bring charges, despite Mr Flint’s refusal to press them, but…he paid me a little visit earlier this morning.’

I almost asked more, but I knew it wasn’t worth it. We both knew how that little interview would’ve gone and, right now, the most important thing was to find Rick.

‘But he admitted killing Charlotte,’ I said. ‘He told me. Was he lying?’

‘Yes, and no,’ she said, heaving a sigh. ‘He did admit killing her.’

‘And?’ I didn’t follow. If he’d admitted it…

‘Why did you let him go, then?’

‘Because he didn’t do it.’

I didn’t speak for a moment - just sat there as her words slotted into place in my mind. Then, finally, I understood.

‘Ah, I see,’ I said, slowly. ‘The power of the Home Office. Your career versus their satisfaction. I suppose it wasn’t much of a choice.’

‘It wasn’t like that,’ she said, looking away from me. ‘You’re not listening.’

‘I don’t need to.’ I looked out the window at the bleak morning street. ‘I know Giles. So what are you going to do? Frame me for it?’

She stood up. ‘You’re still under investigation, as are many of her other clients.’

‘I was never a client,’ I returned, angrily.

‘Semantics, Mr Fforbes.’ She spoke smoothly, now she was back on familiar ground. ‘We have a record of your abuse of her. Whippings…canings…’

‘All consensual and at her explicit request.’

She gave a disinterested shrug. ‘We both know you assaulted her, even if the charges were withdrawn.’

I couldn’t help a smile at this. ‘Christ, you must love Giles Flint.’