Jessica paused for a moment. ‘No, Sir.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

Aylesbury nodded slowly, his eyes darting across her as if trying to read her thoughts. ‘Cole says Wayne Lapham has been bailed. I think we all know we don’t have enough to keep him in.’ Jessica nodded but said nothing. ‘I think you should go home for the weekend and then we might need to talk again on Monday, yes?’

‘Yes, Sir.’

Jessica was back in the exact position she had been in what seemed like barely hours ago – sitting with her feet underneath her on the sofa in her flat, mulling over yet another shambles. It was now early afternoon and the flat was once again empty. Caroline had left her a note on the coffee table in the living room.

‘Gone to lunch and shops. Call if you want to join us. X. C.’

Jessica didn’t fancy either lunch or shopping. She wondered how many more times she could mess something up before someone stepped in to remove her from the case. There were already rumours the Serious Crime Division were looking to swoop in to hunt the ‘Houdini Strangler’. The SCD had been set up a few years previously and dealt with a wide range of crimes. No one in CID was really sure whether what they were working on would fall under the remit of the SCD. Certainly any larger gang crime would usually be referred to them but a lot seemed to come down to how busy the SCD were at any given time. It was often felt that, if they were having a particularly quiet month, they would look for anything decent CID were handling and then take the case on themselves in order to not have their budget cut. They were just one in many confusing layers of law-enforcement where Jessica often felt not even those involved knew who answered to whom. Everyone just fought hard to make sure their own departments looked busy and successful when the time came for budgets to be allocated.

She only knew two things about the upcoming week. First, she would be in Aylesbury’s office first thing on Monday, probably for a dressing down, possibly to be taken off the case and maybe to be suspended outright. Second, she was due in court on Tuesday to face Peter Hunt again. She hoped she would make a better go of it second time around.

Thinking ahead to her court date, she figured now was as good a time as any to phone Harry. It was pushing six months since they had last talked. She flicked through her phone’s list of contacts and pressed the call button when it got to ‘Harry Thomas’.

It rang once. Twice. Jessica was about to leave a message, as she had done many times, when the line clicked and went silent for a moment. ‘Hello,’ came a voice from the other end.

‘Harry?’

‘Yeah.’

‘It’s Jessica . . . I . . . I didn’t think you’d answer.’ Silence. ‘Are you okay?’ she continued.

‘How’s the case going?’

He clearly didn’t want to make small talk but would have seen coverage of the ‘Houdini’ case in the papers and on the news.

‘Not great.’

‘Aye, it’s a weird one . . .’

Jessica had no idea what came over her but, for the second time that day, she broke into tears. ‘Oh, Harry . . .’ He didn’t say anything but she tearfully continued. ‘I don’t know what I’m doing. Things are a mess. We’ve had no leads, no idea how these killings link together and then, when we finally make a connection, I blow it. I let Lapham get away and, even when we got him back, I screw it up and he’s back out again.’

‘You got him back?’

‘He walked into the station with Peter Hunt this morning.’

‘Hunt?’

‘Yes.’

‘What a shitbag.’

Jessica laughed slightly through the tears. ‘That’s what I said.’

‘You said that?’

‘Yes.’

‘To him?’

‘Yeah.’

Jessica could hear Harry laughing. Huge belly laughs and snorts. And then she was giggling too. She had barely heard Harry that happy even when they worked together. ‘What did he say?’ Harry managed to ask in between the guffaws.

‘Nothing really. He didn’t get a chance to say anything.’

Harry continued to laugh. ‘That is bloody fantastic.’

Jessica grabbed a box of tissues from the table and blew her nose, the tears now gone. She smiled and tried to stop herself joining in but Harry’s laugh was infectious. It took a while until both of them had finally stopped. ‘Are you okay, Harry?’

‘Me? Yeah, I’m just a stubborn, silly old man. Don’t you worry about me, detective sergeant.’ He had never had the chance to call her that before. It sounded good. He sounded proud.

‘We all worry . . .’ Harry said nothing, so Jessica swallowed before continuing. ‘What happened in court?’

Harry didn’t reply for a few moments and she wondered whether he would but then the answer came. ‘Nothing. He wound me up.’

‘He winds everyone up.’

‘Kid’s gonna get off.’

Jessica didn’t want to acknowledge that, not knowing if it was true. ‘What would you do with the case, Harry?’

‘Link the bodies. People don’t kill at random, not really.’

‘We thought Lapham was the link.’

‘Do you still think that?’

‘No.’

Harry paused again. Jessica didn’t know if it was deliberate or if he simply didn’t have anything to say. ‘Some people will do anything to get themselves ahead, detective sergeant. Or get revenge. Everyone has a dark side. You’d be surprised what can bring it out.’

His statement sounded ominous and Jessica didn’t know how to respond directly, so she changed the subject. ‘Do you know I’m in on Tuesday?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you fancy a drink afterwards?’

‘Are you buying?’

‘Of course.’

‘I’ll see you there then.’

19

Considering what happened between Jessica, Wayne Lapham and Peter Hunt had occurred behind closed doors, even she was impressed at how quickly the news had travelled around the station when she arrived on the Monday morning. As she walked through reception, it felt as if all eyes were on her. People were smiling but Jessica found it unnerving. She was so used to the gloomy ‘It’s Monday and whatever investigation we’ve got going on is in a complete mess’ looks that she didn’t know how to react to it all. She didn’t even bother to check in with anyone on the front desk, or visit her own office, she headed for the stairs and the DCI’s office.

She could see him sitting behind his desk and he looked up to notice her walking past the window before she had a chance to knock on the door. He beckoned her in and indicated towards the seat opposite him. His grey suit looked sharp and newly pressed, while he had a stern, harsh look on his face.

‘DS Daniel,’ was his greeting, as ever. Jessica sat and waited for her boss to speak. ‘On Saturday, I had a very brief conversation with Peter Hunt. Despite it being my day off, I had a further, much longer conversation with Mr Hunt yesterday over the phone. Today, I came into the station to be given a letter that had been hand-delivered by Mr Hunt for my attention.’ He paused for a moment, ever the showman. ‘Would you like to guess the contents of either those conversations or the letter?’

‘No, Sir.’

‘In that case, I should give you some good news and bad news – first the bad. Mr Hunt has alleged that in the interview room on Saturday, you threatened his client, Mr Lapham, with violence. He further alleges that your conduct was completely out of order throughout that interview and that you called him . . .’ The DCI paused, pulling a letter out of an A4 brown envelope. He scanned down through its contents then continued. ‘. . . that you called him a “shitbag”.’

He looked up from the letter straight at her. ‘How do you answer that?’

She didn’t answer him directly but instead said: ‘What is the good news?’