The one good thing about the new appointment was her office. Western Division had taken over the building adjoining the old Tudor-fronted headquarters, part of the same structure, knocked through the walls and redone the interior. While Annie didn’t have a large room to herself like Detective Superintendent Chambers, she did have a partitioned space in the general area, which gave her some degree of privacy and looked out over the marketplace, like Banks’s office.

Beyond her frosted-glass compartment sat the two detective sergeants and three constables who, along with Annie and Chambers, made up the entire Western Division Complaints and Discipline Department. After all, police corruption was hardly a hot issue around Eastvale, and about the most serious case she had worked on so far was that of a beat policeman accepting free toasted teacakes from the Golden Grill. It turned out that he had been going out with one of the waitresses there and she was finding the way to his heart. Another waitress had become jealous and reported the matter to Complaints and Discipline.

It probably wasn’t fair to blame Banks, Annie thought, standing at the window and looking down on the busy square, and perhaps she was only doing so because of the vague dissatisfaction with their relationship that she was already feeling. She didn’t know what it was, or why, only that she was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable with it. They hadn’t seen each other that often because of the Chameleon case, of course, and Banks had sometimes been so tired that he fallen asleep even before… but it wasn’t that that bothered her so much as the easy familiarity their relationship seemed to be attaining. When they were together, they were behaving more and more like an old married couple and Annie, for one, didn’t want that. Ironic as it seemed, the comfort and familiarity were making her feel distinctly uncomfortable. All they needed was the slippers and the fireplace. Come to think of it, in Banks’s cottage they even had those, too.

Annie’s phone rang. It was Detective Superintendent Chambers summoning her to his office next door. She knocked and went in when he said, “Enter,” the way he liked it. Chambers sat behind his messy desk, a big man with the waistcoat buttons of his pinstripe suit stretched tight across his chest and belly. She didn’t know if his tie was covered with food stains or if it was supposed to look that way. He had the kind of face that seemed to be wearing a perpetual sneer, and small piggy eyes that Annie felt undress her as she walked in. His complexion was like a slab of beef, and his lips were fleshy, wet and red. Annie always half expected him to start drooling and slobbering as he spoke, but he hadn’t done it yet. Not one drop of saliva had found its way on to his green blotter. He had a Home Counties accent, which he seemed to think made him posh.

“Ah, DI Cabbot. Please be seated.”

“Sir.”

Annie sat as comfortably as she could, careful to make certain that her skirt didn’t ride too high over her thighs. If she’d known before she left for work that she was going to be summoned to see Chambers, she would have worn trousers.

“I’ve just been handed a most interesting assignment,” Chambers went on. “Most interesting indeed. One that I think will be right up your alley, as they say.”

Annie had the advantage of him but didn’t want to let it show. “Assignment, sir?”

“Yes. It’s about time you started pulling your weight around here, DI Cabbot. How long have you been with us now?”

“Two months.”

“And in that time you’ve accomplished…?”

“The case of Constable Chaplin and the toasted teacakes, sir. Scandal narrowly averted. A satisfactory resolution all around, if I might say so-”

Chambers reddened. “Yes, well, this one might just take the edge off your attitude, Inspector.”

“Sir?” Annie raised her eyebrows. She couldn’t stop herself baiting Chambers. He had the kind of arrogant, self-important bearing that cried out for pricking. She knew it could be bad for her career, but even with the rekindling of her ambition, Annie had sworn to herself that her career wasn’t worth anything if it cost her her soul. Besides, she had an odd sort of faith that good coppers like Banks, Detective Superintendent Gristhorpe and ACC McLaughlin might have more say in her future than pillocks like Chambers, who, everyone knew, was a lazy slob just waiting for retirement. Still, she hadn’t been a lot more careful with Banks at first, either, and it was only her good fortune that he had been charmed and seduced by her insubordination rather than angered by it. Gristhorpe, poor man, was a saint, and she hardly ever saw Red Ron McLaughlin, so she didn’t get a chance to piss him off.

“Yes,” Chambers went on, warming to his task, “I think you’ll find this one a bit different from toasted teacakes. This’ll wipe the grin off your face.”

“Perhaps you’d care to tell me about it, sir?”

Chambers tossed a thin folder toward her. It slipped off the edge of the desk on to Annie’s knees and then to the floor before she could catch it. She didn’t want to bend over and pick it up so that Chambers could have a bird’s-eye view of her knickers, so she left it where it was. Chambers’s eyes narrowed and they stared at one another for a few seconds, but finally he eased himself out of his chair and picked it up himself. The effort made his face red. He slammed the file down harder on the desk in front of her.

“Seems a probationary PC in West Yorkshire has overdone it a bit with her baton and they want us to look into it. Trouble is, the chappie she overdid it with is suspected to be that Chameleon killer they’ve been after for a while, which, as I’m sure even you will realize, puts a different complexion on things.” He tapped the folder. “The details, such as they are at the moment, are all in there. Do you think you can handle it?”

“No problem,” said Annie.

“On the contrary,” said Chambers, “I think there’ll be plenty of problems. It’ll be what they call a high-profile case, and because of that my name will be on it. I’m sure you understand that we can’t have a mere inspector still wet behind the ears running a case of this importance.”

“If that’s the case,” said Annie, “why don’t you investigate it yourself?”

“Because I happen to be too busy at the moment,” said Chambers, with a twisted grin. “Besides, why own a dog and bark yourself?”

“Absolutely. Why, indeed? Of course,” said Annie, who happened to know that Chambers couldn’t investigate his way out of a paper bag. “I understand completely.”

“I thought you would.” Chambers stroked one of his chins. “And as my name’s on it, I want no cock-ups. In fact, if any heads roll over this business, yours will be the first. Remember, I’m only a hairs-breadth away from retirement, so the last thing on my mind is career advancement. You, on the other hand… Well, I’m sure you catch my drift.”

Annie nodded.

“You’ll be reporting to me directly, of course,” Chambers went on. “Daily reports required, except in the event of any major developments, in which case you’re to report to me immediately. Understood?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” said Annie.

Chambers narrowed his eyes at her. “One day that mouth of yours will get you into serious trouble, young lady.”

“So my father told me.”

Chambers grunted and shifted his weight in his chair. “There’s one more thing.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t like the way this assignment was delivered to me. There’s something fishy about it.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“I don’t know.” Chambers frowned. “Acting Detective Superintendent Banks from CID is running our part of the Chameleon investigation, isn’t he?”

Annie nodded.

“And if my memory serves me well, you used to work with him as a DS before coming over here, didn’t you?”