Jessica had briefed Reynolds about her morning’s work. She wondered if Cole had read the notes and wanted clarification, or if he was trying to rebuild bridges with her after months with very little interaction. As long as she didn’t have to apologise, she didn’t mind either way.

‘I’m hoping it will be a quiet night,’ Jessica replied. ‘There’s tension on both sides. I don’t know if it was Anthony with the brick and graffiti but he knows we’re keeping an eye out now. Hopefully it will all blow over with a quiet week or two.’

Cole started laughing quietly to himself. It was not only out of character but Jessica thought it was also slightly inappropriate. ‘What’s up?’ she asked.

‘Sorry, I’m just tired,’ he replied. ‘It’s not all of this. Sometimes I wonder what things would be like if these cases happened a few miles out of our way. How much different would our lives be? Imagine if Martin Chadwick lived in Prestwich or Stretford or something like that. We probably wouldn’t even know his name.’

Jessica didn’t know why he had brought it up but it was something that crept into her mind some evenings when she was struggling to sleep. With all the things she had dealt with over the past few years, she wondered how much different her life might have been if she had either worked in a district that didn’t serve the centre of Manchester – or if the respective criminals had operated in the areas covered by the north, south, east or west CID divisions instead of her metropolitan one. She had never heard her supervisor bring it up and wondered why he had.

‘Are you okay?’ she asked.

Cole paused for a moment before replying. ‘I’m just wondering how my wife’s going to react when I get in. Things haven’t been . . . great recently.’

Jessica didn’t want to dwell too much on her own relationship. Sometimes she thought it was Manchester itself that seemed to drain everyone. The grey skies, the endless rain, the winters that went on and on. If you judged a place by its weather then this really was the end of the earth.

Not convinced by her own words, she said: ‘I’m sure things will be all right.’

The chief inspector nodded, although his smile told her that he knew her words were just that. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said.

Jessica put a hand on his shoulder, turning and walking towards the alleyway that led back to the car park. She could see her breath in front of her and snuggled her hands deep into the jacket’s pockets in an effort to keep them warm. At the far end of the cut-through was a police van. Its siren was off but the lights were spinning around, casting blue shadows that stretched the full length of the alley.

As she reached the far end, Jessica tapped one of the uniformed officers on the side and offered him a thin smile as he stepped away. He started to say something but Jessica heard another voice speaking over him before he could get the words out.

Sebastian Lowe was standing next to a pillar adjacent to the electrical store. He looked as perfectly turned-out as he had hours before and Jessica had half a mind to ask what his secret was. That was until he thrust the recording device out towards her as he strode forward. ‘Detective Sergeant Daniel,’ he said, trying to get her attention. She wasn’t sure if the emphasis he put on her title was politeness or sarcasm because of the way she had demanded it the previous time they met.

‘Go home, Sebastian,’ Jessica said, walking away from him towards her car.

She could hear him jogging after her. ‘Can I have a quick word?’ he called.

Jessica reached her car as Sebastian caught up, turning to face him as he stopped behind her. Despite the fact he’d been running, he wasn’t out of breath. She had left her car under one of the high lamps illuminating the car park. The overhead light was a hazy yellow but, even with that, his dark eyes were as striking as they had been in the daylight. Jessica was desperate to dislike him but had to fight back a grin as his mouth cracked into a lop-sided smile.

‘Thanks for stopping,’ Sebastian said.

‘What do you want?’

‘I had a call from the office that something was happening here – something about a girl. Can you tell me anything?’

Jessica ignored his question. ‘Why did you write about Martin Chadwick and Anthony Thompson?’

If her question had rattled him, Sebastian kept a straight face. ‘Because it was a good story.’

‘Did you contact Anthony Thompson, or did he come to you?’

Sebastian met her eyes and smiled wider. ‘I don’t think I should tell you.’

Jessica finally broke and was unable to stop herself grinning back. ‘Honestly? You should go home. You’re not going to get any information waiting here. There’s a service yard at the back of that alley and everything will be removed without you even knowing it’s happened. Call the press office tomorrow and they’ll have something for you.’

The journalist lowered the recording device he had been holding. ‘Can I call you tomorrow?’

Jessica wasn’t sure but it looked as if he had winked at her as he spoke. She didn’t acknowledge it, just in case it was a trick of the light. ‘I don’t give my number to journalists,’ she said, although she hoped he didn’t know that Garry had it.

Sebastian nodded without replying for a few moments. Jessica studied his face, hoping to notice a mole or unsightly hair – anything that would reduce his appeal. There was nothing she could see.

‘How about giving me your number so we can go out sometime?’ He stared into her face, his smile unmoving.

Jessica held up her left hand, wiggling her ring finger at him. ‘I’m engaged.’

Sebastian’s smile widened even further. ‘Let me leave you my card,’ he said, reaching into his pocket.

‘I told you I’m engaged,’ Jessica replied sharply.

Sebastian tilted his head to the side and laughed. ‘I meant for if you want to talk to me for professional reasons.’

Jessica took the card and unlocked her car door. Sebastian made to turn around but she wasn’t ready to let him have the final word. ‘I meant what I told you before,’ Jessica said. ‘Stop stirring things up.’

She wrenched the door open, ready to duck down to climb in but Sebastian called out without turning around. ‘Oooh. I love it when you talk tough.’

7

‘What is wrong with this bloody chair?’ Jessica said, reaching under the seat to try to adjust the controls.

The man opposite her grimaced, looking on apologetically. ‘Sorry about that, I’ve got another one on order. It should be here any day.’

Jessica frowned across Andrew Hunter’s desk at him, trying to look menacing but, as they locked eyes, she lifted what she quickly discovered was the wrong lever under the chair. The piston mechanism hissed and Jessica felt a rush of blood as the height of the seat dropped dramatically, leaving her at eye level with the desk, her knees bent uncomfortably. She stood quickly, unhappily glaring at Andrew to make sure he wasn’t laughing.

‘You should really fix this thing,’ she said.

‘Do you want to swap seats?’ Andrew offered.

Jessica looked at the man’s high leather-backed seat and nodded. ‘Go on then.’

She moved to one side as the confused-looking man stood up. He clearly hadn’t expected her to accept his offer. As they swapped positions and she moved behind his desk, Jessica struggled not to make an appreciative groan as she reclined into what was definitely the most comfortable office chair she had ever sat on. Meanwhile, Andrew adjusted and then fidgeted uncomfortably into the broken one she had just vacated.

Jessica wheeled herself closer to the desk. ‘Right, now that’s sorted, we can get on with it. I read through the statement you gave last night and we have been in contact with the medical investigation team this morning. We don’t have a post mortem yet but there are no concerns that Sienna Todd’s death was anything other than a suicide.’ She thought she was giving the man good news, considering it meant he was definitely not a suspect. The uneasy look Andrew was giving her didn’t seem that relieved. ‘Are you okay?’ Jessica added, feeling a little embarrassed about stealing his chair.