As if realising they were being watched, both men turned their heads and Mallory, smiling, raised a hand in cheery greeting.

'This Grant business Mallory mentioned,' Elder said. 'No mileage in it for us?'

'I don't think so.'

'Might be worth taking another look, just the same. In the absence of anything else.' Seeing Maddy's mother leaning on her sister's arm as she bent towards one of the wreaths, Elder excused himself and walked over to express his regrets.

Vanessa stubbed out her cigarette beneath the low heel of her shoe and began to walk towards the main gate… She hadn't reckoned on the service affecting her so badly, embarrassed almost by the fuss she'd made, the way she'd drawn attention to herself. But all the way through she'd been unable to suppress the images of Maddy that had played out across her mind: Maddy laughing, listening, pretending to be shocked by Vanessa's ribaldry, her good humour laced, towards the end, with traces of fear Vanessa had failed to take seriously. You're not getting weird on me, are you? Freaking out? Hearing the car approaching behind her, Vanessa moved closer to the side.

Instead of driving past, the car slowed to a halt.

'Where you heading?' The grey hair on Mallory's head seemed to have been recently brushed or combed.

'Down to the Tube.'

'It's a long walk. Hop in, we'll give you a lift.'

While Vanessa hesitated, the nearside door swung open and Mallory, welcoming, shifted back along the rear seat leaving room.

'All right, thanks.'

'Excellent. Drive on, driver.' Though the carnation had disappeared from his buttonhole, the detective superintendent was still in an expansive mood. More wedding than funeral.

'PC Taylor, isn't it?'

'Yes.'

'Vanessa.'

'Yes.'

'You and Maddy, bosom pals.'

'We were good friends, yes.' Tears pricked again at the backs of her eyes.

'Go ahead,' Mallory said. 'Let it out. Bit of genuine emotion. No need to be ashamed.'

'No, it's all right…'

'Maurice, let the lady have a handkerchief, there's a good chap.'

One of the last men in the twenty-first century to actually carry a handkerchief, washed and ironed, Repton swivelled round in the front passenger seat and passed it to Vanessa with a manicured hand.

'Thank you.' Vanessa sniffed and dabbed her eyes.

'See those women weeping and wailing on the news,' Mallory was saying. 'Iran, Iraq. Can't help but wonder sometimes if they haven't got the right idea. Better than keeping it all bottled up inside like the rest of us. Eh, Maurice, what d'you think? Vanessa, eh?'

Vanessa said she wasn't sure. Maurice Repton didn't seem to care.

They were marooned at a junction between a woman struggling to get an Isuzu Trooper into first gear and an articulated lorry on its way to the nearest Asda.

'You were close, you and Maddy,' Mallory said, moving a little closer himself.

'Yes, I think so.'

'No secrets, that sort of thing.'

'Pretty much.'

'Friendship between two women, it's a wonderful thing. Nothing held back. Open, honest. Not like me and Maurice here, cheek by jowl the best part of twenty years and what gets his withers in a turmoil is still a mystery. And just as well.'

The engine of the SUV was flooded and, with the woman watching, several men were trying to push it out of the way.

'That awful business, Grant going down, the boy Draper being killed, she'll have talked about that, I shouldn't wonder.'

'A little, yes, not much.'

'Confided, though.'

'It upset her, yes. What happened to Paul Draper, especially.'

'And Grant? Did she say much about that? The shooting.' For a moment, Mallory's hand was on her knee.

'No, not that I remember.'

'If there was anything -'

'Really, there's not.'

'Of course.' As if he'd suddenly lost interest, Mallory shunted across to his own side of the car and a few moments later they were pulling in at the kerb.

'Your stop,' Repton said, without turning round. 'Hendon Central.'

'Camden Town and change,' Mallory said. 'It is Kentish Town you're stationed?'

'Yes.'

'Marvellous thing, London Underground. Where would we be without it, that's what I want to know?'

'Thanks for the lift,' Vanessa said, pushing open the door.

'Any time,' Mallory said, with a generous wave of the hand. 'Any time.'

Watching as the car eased out into the traffic, pedestrians spilling round her, Vanessa held her hands fast down by her sides, her legs weak and her guts churning, without quite knowing why.

21

If there was one thing guaranteed to make Elder feel he was getting old, it was a pub in Camden on a Saturday night. The tables, square and heavy, were crowded and crammed with empty bottles and glasses, awash with beer and the language of the brag. Not a spare seat anywhere. A scrum, three deep, at the bar. A large television screen showing continuous music videos, nobody listening, nobody watching. Tobacco smoke laced with the instantly recognisable scent of cannabis. Voices raised, loud, above a mixture of reggae and some kind of stripped-down sledgehammer rock. Age aside, Elder stood out for not having some part of his body studded or pierced, for not wearing black.

'Over here,' Vanessa said, seizing his arm.

With a fast smile and judicious use of the elbows, she found them a haven of sorts, squashed up against the window which faced out on to the High Street, smoke and condensation blurring the pane.

'Sorry,' she said.

'What for?'

'Bringing you here.'

Elder summoned up a smile. 'I've known worse.' He just couldn't remember when.

'Of course,' she said, 'it might be nothing.' Her words all but lost in an upsurge of sound.

'I'm sorry?'

'I said, it might be nothing.'

'Try me.'

He had to lean forward to catch every word. What Mallory and Repton had been playing at, he wasn't sure, but one thing was certain, they'd got Vanessa truly rattled.

'And you weren't holding anything back from them? Something Maddy might have said?'

'God, no.'

'You said they gave her a pretty tough time at the inquiry.'

'Yes. Said they were likely going to have her back in, but I don't think they ever did.'

Elder had obtained a copy of the Hertfordshire team's report and had still to get around to reading it.

Vanessa's face tilted up towards his, perspiration on her upper lip. 'It did make me think of something Maddy mentioned, about the Grant thing, something I'd more or less forgotten. There was this guy, SO19, Firearms, you know? Coming on to her. Not just the once either. Didn't like no for an answer.'

'You know his name?'

'Don't think she ever said. But ginger, she did say that. Ginger-haired. No wonder she never fancied him.'

'You think he might have persevered? Chanced his arm again?'

'You never know, do you? What some blokes will do.'

A bottle broke near the far end of the bar and Elder slipped down from his seat. 'Let's drink up and get out of here, okay?'

The street was busy with the slow passage of cars; rain dithered in the air and glossed the headlights. Young men and women trawled the pavement in threes and fours, the occasional couple arm in arm or hand in hand. Oblivious, a girl of no more than sixteen or seventeen sat cross-legged on the ground, tears raking her face. An elderly black man, dreadlocks streaming out from under his beret, pantomimed a sinuous shuffle to a tinny song from a beat box on the ground.

Always the intermittent sound of police sirens, some little distance off.