‘Four in the morning is not a time I recognise,’ Jessica replied.

In the distance, she could see a small crowd gathered under a street light. When she was within a few feet, she saw Martin sipping from a mug of tea with Rowlands standing next to him.

Martin saw her before anyone else. ‘Sergeant,’ he said.

‘Are you okay? What’s happened?’

Martin pointed through the gloom towards his house where Jessica could see the front window had a hole roughly in the centre with cracks that had spread towards the corners. ‘Is that why you called?’ she asked.

Martin nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I know I should have called 999 first. I wasn’t thinking.’

Before she could reply, Jessica heard a raised voice. She turned towards the house, where Ryan was storming out of the front door, pointing towards her aggressively. ‘Where the fuck were you lot?’ he shouted. Jessica tried to shush him, aware it was still the early hours of the morning. ‘Don’t you fuckin’ shush me,’ the young man shouted, even louder. ‘Where were you?’

He was within a few feet of her and she could see the saliva around his mouth as he spat the words, his eyes wide and the whites illuminated in the street light.

‘Hey,’ Martin said sharply to his son. Ryan turned to his father and screwed his lips together. ‘Anything could have happened,’ he said, slightly more quietly than before, this time addressing his dad.

‘We’ll sort out some sort of panic button,’ Jessica said, trying to sound reassuring. She wasn’t surprised by Ryan’s aggression but wanted him to calm himself, rather than having to have an officer step in.

‘It’s not just the window,’ Rowlands said.

His words sounded ominous. Jessica turned to face him as he gently gripped her arm and started to walk her forward. She could hear Ryan ranting to his father behind them as they opened the gate, leaving the pavement.

‘He’s a happy chap, isn’t he?’ Dave said.

‘Ryan? I think he’s on something,’ Jessica replied. ‘Did you see his eyes?’

‘Shall we take him in?’

Jessica sighed. ‘Not tonight. Someone’s going to have to keep a close eye on him though.’

Rowlands pointed towards the side wall of the house that adjoined the property’s driveway but he didn’t need to say anything. The graffiti had been sprayed in bright yellow paint, the letters half a metre high. The message was easy enough to make out, even in the limited light.

‘DEAD MAN’

Jessica sighed again, louder the second time. ‘Oh for f—’

‘I know,’ Rowlands said. ‘At least they can spell.’

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. ‘You’re such a dick sometimes.’

The constable didn’t miss a beat. ‘Who do you think did it? Anthony Thompson?’

Jessica puffed through her teeth. ‘I bloody hope not. The last thing we need is to arrest him. The media will kick our arses.’

‘Someone’s going to have to visit him either way, if only to find out where he was this evening.’

‘Shite.’

Jessica knew it was true – and that she would be dispatched to ask Anthony the question someone had to but nobody wanted to. If he had done it, it wouldn’t be good for anyone. If he hadn’t, they were harassing a man because his son had been killed seven years previously.

‘It could be anyone,’ Jessica added. ‘Martin’s release was in the papers and on the Internet. All it takes is some nutter who has read the story.’

‘Are you trying to convince me or yourself?’

Rowlands leant sideways, deliberately nudging her with his shoulder. Jessica rocked to one side and then back again, hitting the constable with her own shoulder.

‘How’s Chloe?’ she asked, referring to his live-in girlfriend.

‘Pissed off at my phone going off at half-three in the morning.’

Jessica laughed but moved the constable further away from the road because she didn’t want either Martin or Ryan to think she was enjoying the situation. ‘I knew you only lived a few minutes away. It was quicker than phoning the station and I told Martin to call 999 anyway.’

‘What about Adam?’

‘He barely stirred. He just farted and rolled over.’

‘Classy.’

Jessica giggled again. ‘He’s been saying the four of us should go out for a meal again.’

‘Chloe was going on about that too. She reckons she had fun last time.’

‘That’s because she didn’t have to stay in alone with you all night.’ Jessica nudged her colleague with her shoulder again. ‘What are we going to do with Ryan?’ she asked.

‘I thought you wanted to leave him be?’

‘For now, but you didn’t see him earlier. If it was Anthony who did this, Christ knows what might happen.’

Rowlands cupped his hands around his mouth, blowing into them for warmth. ‘Do you think he might go looking for some sort of revenge?’

‘I don’t know. He seems like a very angry young man. Not that I blame him; he has grown up without any parents.’

‘Where’s his mum?’

Jessica shook her head, although it was gloomy enough that she realised she wouldn’t be seen. ‘I don’t know. I think she left when he was young. It’s not been mentioned but she’s not in the picture.’

Rowlands blew into his hands again. ‘Aren’t you cold?’

Jessica pulled up the lapels on her jacket. ‘I nicked a coat off uniform.’

The constable gripped Jessica’s arm and nodded towards the road, where Ryan was striding towards them. At first she could make out only his silhouette against the street lamp but he kept walking until he was within a few feet of the two officers.

‘I want to say sorry,’ he said. ‘I know it’s not your fault. I’m just worried about my dad.’ His voice still contained a menacing undercurrent and Jessica suspected his father had sent him across.

‘We understand,’ Jessica replied, although she said it with enough fire in her voice to let him know she wasn’t prepared to allow him to speak to her in that way too often.

She could tell from the angle of Ryan’s body that he was looking towards her but it was too dark to see his facial reactions. There was an uncomfortable pause before the teenager grunted some sort of acknowledgement, then he turned and headed back towards the road.

Jessica knocked on the door and stepped backwards, accidentally standing on Rowlands’s toe. She turned to see her colleague leaping sideways with a scowl on his face.

‘Will you stop being such a baby?’ Jessica said with a frown of her own as she heard the door unlocking.

By the time she turned around, a small crack had appeared between the door and its frame. Jessica could see an eye peering through the gap at her. Faded red paint was flaking from the wood and the man’s blotched skin was almost the same colour as the emulsion.

‘Mr Thompson?’ Jessica asked in the friendly tone she saved only for visits such as this. She deliberately raised the pitch of her voice, but also had a slower, more serious version for the moments when she had to break bad news to someone. Her semi-aggressive, slightly lower-pitched voice was what she most often used – although that was usually followed shortly after by a threat that someone would break the door down if whoever she was after didn’t open it. Jessica could feel Rowlands eyeing the back of her head, no doubt partly amused by her method.

The eye flickered from side to side before a low gravelly voice answered. ‘Who’s asking?’

Jessica introduced herself and offered her identification so the man could have a better view. His eye darted around it before he added, ‘So?’

‘Can we come in, Mr Thompson?’ Jessica asked, even more sweetly than before.

‘What do you want?’

‘Just a chat. We’ll be quick if you’re busy.’

For a fraction of a second, Jessica caught the gaze of the single eye. It widened, the white lined with deep red veins, and then blinked shut. The face disappeared from the crack and the door opened inwards slightly. Jessica took a half-step forward but, as she did, it was slammed in her face with a bang that sent a rush of air into her face. Jessica stepped backwards quickly, again standing on Rowlands’s toe. He yelped and she felt his hand pressing into the small of her back through the borrowed coat.