‘Coffee?’

‘What? Oh – er – no thanks, Viv’.

‘You’re very quiet, sir. Is something wrong?’

‘No, nothing’.

Which meant everything was wrong. Detective Sergeant Vivienne Trubshaw knew her boss too well. Was it them? Was it his marriage? Or was it last night at Holme Hill? Unusually, he had driven to the crime scene. She liked to do the driving when they were together. It gave her a brief sense of equality with her DCI, but no matter. He had wanted to drive, and she would never counter him when he was in that mood.

She watched him staring out of the window of his office at Hartley CID watching the rain run down the windows. Her commanding officer, her muse, her mentor, and, since the previous...

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