Carson turned into a steep terraced street as a short cut, the hill so sharp that the houses looked like they were leaning against each other for support, clinging onto the slope. Laura’s feet dug into the mat, phantom-braking as the car raced towards the junction at the bottom. The lights were still showing red, but they started to change just as they got closer. There was just the first flicker of a green light as Carson flew through, brightened by the orange flicker of sparks as the exhaust caught the tarmac and the hill bottomed out.

Laura knew they weren’t far away, some of the landmarks were familiar now, as the terraced strips gave way to the gentle curves and leaves of suburbia, and then Carson swung into the bright new boxes of Joe’s estate before coming to a halt behind Joe’s car.

‘You better do the talking,’ Carson said. ‘It’s time for a gentle touch.’

The front door opened before Laura could get there, Joe Kinsella blocking her way.

‘How is she?’ Laura said.

Joe shook his head. ‘Not good. And I know why you’re here. You want her to be examined for forensics, but she won’t go, and I’m not going to make her.’

‘Why won’t she go?’

‘Right now, she’s embarrassed, violated, and doesn’t want to think of her intimate examination being read by her colleagues,’ Joe said. Laura was about to say something, but Joe held up his hand. ‘I know what you’re thinking, that she has nothing to hide, but that’s how she feels right now.’

Laura nodded and sighed. ‘I understand, but that isn’t why we are here, and it’s not just a get well visit.’

Joe looked confused. ‘What do you mean?’

‘We think we know who Rachel’s attacker is,’ she said. ‘A police driver called Peter Williams, although he is really Shane.’

Joe’s mouth opened in surprise, and then he looked down, and Laura could almost see the thoughts racing through his mind. Then he looked up.

‘Of course, it makes sense,’ he said, his eyes wide. ‘Not a low-ranking police officer, but someone who floats around the police station, overhearing stuff, the person you never notice coming into the room. Mr Invisible. So have you got him?’

Laura grimaced. ‘That’s why we need to speak to Rachel.’

‘What do you mean?’

Laura reached out to Joe and placed her hand on his. ‘Joe, I’m sorry, but I think Rachel knows who her attacker is. I think she recognised him.’

Joe shook his head. ‘She would have told someone.’

‘She already has,’ Laura said. ‘Don Roberts.’

Joe looked surprised at that. ‘Why would she do that?’

‘Revenge, Joe. She knows what Don Roberts will do to him, and we think Don has already got him. I identified him from the footage when Doctor Barker came to the station, and no one could have leaked it so soon. So the only way Don could have known is if Rachel told him.’

Joe’s look darkened, and he glanced into the house. ‘She wouldn’t do that. She’s a cop, she knows the rules.’

‘She’s also hurting,’ Laura said softly. ‘Let me speak to her, just to check.’

Joe looked like he was going to object, but Laura saw in his eyes an acceptance that what she had said made some sense. He gave the door a push and then stepped to one side.

The house was in darkness when Laura went in. The curtains were drawn, and whatever light there was came from the flicker of a small candle on a table in the corner of the room.

Rachel was sleeping on the sofa, or so it seemed. She was wrapped up in a blanket, her blonde hair fanning out over the edge of the cushion.

‘Rachel? Hi, it’s me. How are you?’

Rachel turned over so that she could see Laura, and then began to sit up.

‘No, please don’t get up,’ Laura said, her voice soft and low. As Rachel’s face caught the glow of the candle, Laura thought her eyes looked swollen and puffy from crying.

Rachel settled back down and then turned to look at Laura.

‘I’m not ill or anything,’ she said. ‘I’ve just taken a shock, that’s all.’

‘It’s not a sign of weakness,’ Laura said.

‘That’s how some will see it.’

‘Not the ones that matter,’ Laura said. ‘Take some time, make yourself right.’ When Rachel didn’t respond, Laura said, ‘We know who it is.’

Rachel stayed still for a moment, and then she looked at Laura. ‘Who is it?’

‘A police driver called Peter Williams,’ Laura replied, watching Rachel carefully. There was no look of surprise, and Laura thought she saw something else. Relief? ‘But you know that already, don’t you?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘We think Don Roberts has taken him. We don’t know where, but we need to find him before he kills him.’

Rachel took a deep breath, and then said, ‘I hope you fail.’

‘You told Don, didn’t you?’ Laura said.

Rachel stared at her, but Laura didn’t blink, didn’t waver, and then Rachel looked away, drawing the blanket around her shoulders.

Laura reached out and put her hand on Rachel, but it was shrugged off.

Joe appeared in the doorway, just a silhouette against the light shining in from outside. Laura nodded at him, by way of confirmation of what she had found out, before she headed for the car. Joe didn’t look at her as she went past.

Carson followed Laura outside, and when they were in the car, Laura nodded and then looked away.

Carson banged the steering wheel in anger and then simmered for a few seconds, before he snapped, ‘We need to find Roberts.’

Laura thought she saw Joe looking out of the window as Carson sped off.

Chapter Sixty-Five

It was dark, almost pitch black, as Jack approached the DR Security building. The street lights further along were broken, the glass pitted by holes, and the one right outside fizzed off and on, as if someone was trying to hotwire it. It was as if he was getting his impression of the building under a strobe light.

He could make out that it was squat and square, with a large roller shutter at the front, next to a more conventional office door and a small reinforced window. There was nothing preventing access to the front, but the flashes of light caught the gleam of barbed wire that topped high metal fencing. It ran down each side and along the back, so that access to the sides of the building was through two metal security gates.

He should call Laura to tell her, but he wanted to be sure. All he had was the word of a drunk and some guesswork.

His footsteps echoed as loud crunches as he walked slowly towards the roller shutter. He pressed his ear against the cold metal. He guessed that there was nothing behind it, just access into the building, like a garage entrance. There was no sound.

He moved slowly towards the office door, listening out for movement, expecting to be confronted. He didn’t breathe as he tried the handle, but the door was locked. He went to the small window, criss-crossed by wire, reinforced glass, and peered in, but he couldn’t see anything, the white office blind blocking his view. He stepped back to look for an outline of light, some sign that someone was inside, but there was nothing, just his own shadow against the glass.

He stepped back. The building looked empty. No noise. No lights. But there was another car there, not just Hoyle’s. As Jack peered into the patch of darkness behind the building, he saw the outline of a black car, an urban cruiser, barely visible, except for a glint from the windscreen. Jack’s mind flashed back to the cars outside Don’s house. It was the same type.

The security gates at each side of the building were six feet high, heavy metal, with sturdy struts going their length. He went to the one to his left and gave it a shake. It felt solid. He looked for a foothold to clamber over, but there was only a lock chamber. It would have to do.

He lifted his foot onto the lock and then gripped the struts, before hauling himself up. The gate clanged against its frame, the noise bouncing back from the brick wall at the end of the street. He paused to listen out for any doors opening, someone reacting to the noise. If he kept on going, he would be trapped. Still nothing. He let out a breath and his tongue flicked at his lips. His mouth was dry and his stomach was rolling with nerves. He decided to keep going. He knew he should call Laura, to tell her where he was, but he wanted to find out what was going on first.