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heard.

      ‘You can stop looking at me like that, DS Grey. This is procedure, there is nothing I can do. My hands are tied.’

      ‘He didn’t do this. No way,’ she urged.

      ‘I’m glad you have his back, and while I admire your loyalty, I don’t have that luxury.’

      ‘Can I help with the investigation?’

      ‘I think we both know the answer to that.’

      ‘I can’t just do nothing. This isn’t right,’ Imogen said.

      ‘Between us … you met the girl before. What did you think of her?’

      ‘Honestly? She was all over Adrian, disturbingly so. Flirting and desperate for his attention.’

      ‘And you don’t think he could have taken that the wrong way and maybe—’

      ‘No. Aside from the extreme violence towards her, which I am positive Adrian would have no part in, I just don’t think he’d be into it if the person wasn’t into it, too. If you know what I mean,’ Imogen said, unsure if she was making things better or worse, worrying she was digging Adrian into an even bigger hole.

      ‘Why do you say that about the violence? People can surprise you,’ DCI Kapoor said gently, as though she were trying to prepare Imogen for the worst.

      ‘On previous cases, Adrian has been quite affected by violence against women. His father was a violent man, apparently; hit both him and his mother frequently.’

      ‘I didn’t know that,’ DCI Kapoor said apologetically.

      ‘He doesn’t talk about it much, but I just can’t imagine him raising a hand to a woman. Let alone this,’ Imogen said. Adrian hadn’t talked about it much but on the few occasions where he had said something it was clear to her that it was something he felt very strongly about.

      ‘Have you and he ever—’

      ‘No,’ Imogen said before she had a chance to finish the sentence.

      DCI Kapoor’s computer pinged and she clicked on something. She folded her arms and leaned back in her chair, exhaling and scrunching her face up. She was obviously trying to decide what to do.

      ‘PSD are sending over Detective Chief Constable Trevor Sneddon. If you would, please meet him and bring him to my office. He’ll be out front in about five minutes. I’ll see if he has a problem with you observing the in-house interviews. Observing being the key word. You won’t be able to sit in, but you can watch from the control room if he gives you the OK.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Imogen said, breathing out a small sigh of relief at not being shut out completely.

      ‘Any idea why Miss Watts might make this up?’

      ‘None whatsoever.’

      ‘OK, thank you, Imogen. Can you send Adrian in?’

      Imogen left the DCI’s office and sat back down at her desk. Adrian was perched on his chair with his head in his hands – anxious was an understatement. She could see he was lost in his own thoughts.

      ‘The DCI wants to see you now.’

      Adrian stood up and barrelled towards DCI Kapoor’s office. Imogen hoped he didn’t lose his temper. She couldn’t stay in here and try to guess what the DCI was saying to Adrian; she needed some air. It had been raining earlier, so she grabbed her coat and went outside to wait for the DCC to show up.

      Just being outside made Imogen want a cigarette, but she hadn’t had one since about three days after New Year’s Eve. One more week and she would have gone two whole months without one.

      A car she didn’t recognise pulled into the forecourt and a man she wasn’t familiar with got out. She wrapped her coat around her and walked towards him, the wind whipping her hair into an unruly mess.

      ‘DCC Sneddon?’ she called out.

      ‘Yes, how did you know?’ He was tall with sandy blond hair and a stern face, but she liked to imagine he didn’t look unreasonable.

      ‘You just look like PSD.’

      ‘I’ll pretend that’s a compliment.’ He held his hand out and she took it; he had a firm shake, confident, that of someone in a position of authority.

      ‘I’m DS Imogen Grey. The DCI has asked me to take you through to see her.’

      ‘Do you know the accused?’ he said sombrely.

      ‘I do. He’s my partner.’

      ‘I’m guessing you believe him.’

      ‘Correct.’

      ‘OK, let’s get this show on the road,’ he said in an apologetic voice.

      This at least gave her hope that he wasn’t just out to nail someone. She hated her job sometimes.

       Chapter Ten

      Being on this side of the interview table was no fun. Adrian waited patiently for DCC Trevor Sneddon to start asking questions. They had already got the formalities out of the way: date, time, name, rank. Adrian could feel the beginnings of a migraine, or maybe he just really wanted a drink.

      ‘Could you tell me about the first meeting with Caitlin Watts?’ DCC Sneddon began.

      ‘She was brought in for breaking into a chapel. Her grandfather was a reverend, though, and so no charges were brought and we let her go,’ Adrian said.

      ‘Did she steal anything?’ Sneddon asked.

      ‘Apparently not.’

      ‘How did she seem at that time?’

      ‘I don’t know. Normal. She was quite friendly,’ Adrian said. Did that make him look bad?

      ‘And the next time you saw her?’

      ‘Yesterday morning. She said hello to us near the scene of the Norris murder. We went to speak to one of his colleagues, who turned out to be her lecturer. Psychology, um … her name was Gillian Mitchell. Miss Watts walked past and said hello.’

      ‘And you hadn’t arranged to meet Caitlin Watts there?’

      ‘Of course not. It was a murder that we were called out to. How would I know beforehand that it was going to happen?’ he said, trying not to get annoyed at the questions. He knew they had to ask them.

      ‘And then the next time?’

      ‘Yesterday again. She came in late afternoon and told us that she thought Hugh Norris was having an affair with a student. She also told us that one of his students committed suicide exactly three months ago. She brought in an article about the suicide and I put it on the desk.’

      ‘Then what happened?’

      ‘She told me she couldn’t get home and that she was a bit upset by the murder, so I offered to give her a lift.’

      ‘You offered? Why?’

      ‘Actually no, I offered to get someone else to drop her home, but she asked if I could do it. She said she was nervous because of the violent nature of the murder.’

      ‘And you said?’

      ‘I said, fine. I was leaving anyway.’

      ‘And what happened then?’

      ‘I drove her home, she got out and I drove home.’

      ‘You didn’t get out of the car and see her to her door?’

      ‘No, I didn’t. I didn’t even really watch her go inside. I just left. Then I parked up at home and walked to The Imperial.’

      ‘Were you alone?’

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