Andrew paused for a moment in a silence Jessica thought sounded distinctly smug.

‘The only person he’s mentioned that has a grudge is his ex-wife.’

‘It’s not her,’ Jessica said, relaxing into her chair. ‘He mentioned her to one of the officers last night. She’s in Mexico on holiday.’

‘Could she have hired someone?’

She knew that possibility was being looked into, although there was no reason to think the woman had done. Jessica laughed, thinking it was partial payback for the cocky-sounding silence he had subjected her to moments earlier. ‘You’ve watched too many TV shows and not done enough proper work,’ she replied.

Andrew didn’t sound as if he had taken it to heart. ‘Do you have any other ideas?’

Jessica reminded him that she couldn’t give him those details as he was a ‘nobody’.

‘No offence,’ she added, knowing full well that anyone using those two words definitely did mean to be offensive. ‘What are you going to do now?’ she added, realising she was being hypocritical in asking his business while refusing to tell him hers.

He replied anyway. ‘I’m off to see Harley at his hotel later. I’m not sure after that. It doesn’t seem right taking his money any longer.’

Jessica told him he could ring her if need be and hung up. As she did, her phone flashed to say she had two missed calls – both from a number she didn’t recognise. She slid the file that contained Ryan’s drawings out from under the stack she had left it in and began to look through them, wishing she had passed them on in the first instance.

She understood why Reynolds said he wanted no part of them – but she was desperate to share her concerns about Ryan with people who might agree with her. Again, she tidied them away and pushed the cardboard folder back to the bottom of the heap.

Looking back to her phone, and knowing she would regret it, Jessica redialled the missed calls number. It only rang once before a voice she instantly recognised answered. ‘Detective Sergeant Daniel,’ the man said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. ‘How are you today?’

‘How did you get my number, Sebastian?’

Even without seeing him, Jessica could tell he was smiling. She remembered the cheeky way he smirked at her in the electrical store’s car park and the way his dark eyes matched the grin. ‘I know people who know people,’ he replied.

Jessica thought there was a certain news editor she would be having words with. ‘What do you want?’ she asked, trying to sound annoyed.

‘I’m following up about last night’s fire. I gather the person who the house belongs to is the same person whose daughter died last week. Is that correct?’

‘That’s what you printed so it must be true. Just like that story with the talking dog you had the other month.’ Jessica didn’t know why he was asking as the information was already out.

Sebastian didn’t reply instantly but the fact she knew he was enjoying the conversation was winding her up. ‘It doesn’t do any harm to get a second source,’ the journalist said. ‘Okay, how about a link to the fire at Martin Chadwick’s house?’

Jessica’s first thought was that Sebastian must somehow know something she didn’t about Ryan. ‘How do you mean?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

She could hear the man blowing through his teeth as a soft whisper echoed down the line. ‘Well, you have to admit it’s a bit of a coincidence that a known arsonist comes out of prison and, within a week or so, his house and someone else’s in the city has been burned down.’

Jessica didn’t think it was a coincidence but she didn’t want to tell him that. She picked up a pen and began tapping it on her desk. ‘Why would someone burn their own house down?’

‘I don’t know. I didn’t say he did. I just said it was a coincidence that two houses burned down shortly after his release.’

Jessica stopped drumming the pen and instead launched it across the room. It clanged off the edge of the bin, launched vertically into the air and then bounced off the wall, ending up a good metre away from the target.

‘Shite,’ Jessica mumbled.

‘Sorry?’

‘Not you. Look, what do you want me to say? I can neither confirm, nor deny, blah-di-blah, insert whatever quote you want here.’ Jessica paused for dramatic effect. ‘Just phone the press office. Why are you calling me?’

‘I was hoping we could go out some time.’

‘No we can’t. I’m engaged and you’re a knobhead. I don’t go out with knobheads. Can we leave it at that? Don’t call me again.’

Jessica removed the phone from her ear and struggled to hang up, at first waiting for the screen’s light to turn back on and then forgetting which button ended the call.

She picked up the receiver from her desk phone then slammed it down just to prove a point. The problem with mobile phones was that you couldn’t emphasise when you were hanging up on someone.

Jessica stood and walked across the room to pick up her pen, kicking the bin to protest at the way it had rejected her shot. She then stormed back to her desk and picked up her mobile phone before dialling Garry Ashford’s number. He answered on the third ring with a friendly sounding ‘Hello’ but Jessica cut in.

‘Why did you give my number to Sebastian?’

‘Um, what?’

‘You gave my phone number to that journalist Sebastian. Why?’

Jessica was annoyed – but more with herself for not being annoyed. Usually if someone had passed her details along without asking, especially to a journalist, she would have been fuming. As it was, she knew she wasn’t that bothered – and that was frustrating her the most.

‘I didn’t, Jess, I’ve never given it to anyone.’

‘How did he get it then?’ Jessica snapped.

‘I don’t know. He’s very resourceful.’ Garry sounded sorry even though he wasn’t apologising for anything.

Reluctantly, Jessica accepted he was telling the truth and sighed in defeat. ‘Right, just tell him not to call me again.’

Jessica was ready for the end call button the second time and stabbed it in victory to hang up.

She thought of the smug, smiley, long-eyelashed journalist and the way he had popped into her mind a couple of evenings ago. ‘Bastard,’ she said out loud to the empty room and then bounded into the hallway to find someone to shout at.

‘Have I done something wrong?’ Rowlands asked. Jessica could see a mixture of amusement and bewilderment on his face.

‘We have been working together way too long,’ she replied. Dave wheeled the chair he was sitting in backwards as Jessica, who was perched on his desk, swung her legs around, narrowly avoiding kicking him in the knees.

‘Who’s annoyed you this time?’ he asked with a sympathetic smile.

Jessica wasn’t too pleased with the way he had apparently read her mood perfectly and deduced that her dumping a load of work on him was directly related to someone else annoying her.

She shuffled backwards until she was sitting fully on his desk. ‘Never mind that, I still need this job doing. I don’t care if you do it, or if you get someone else to do it.’

Rowlands reached forward and picked up a pad and pen from his desk. His smile had disappeared now he realised she was being serious.

‘Go on, tell me again. I was too busy watching the steam come out of your ears last time.’

‘Right, just for that, you’re doing it. I want a list of all criminals in the Greater Manchester area who have links to arson attacks. They might have actual fire-related convictions or just be some stupid teenager who once set something on fire by accident. Pull all the names together and then see if we can cross-match them against any of Harley Todd, Sienna Todd, Martin Chadwick, Ryan Chadwick or Anthony Thompson. If we get any double matches, all the better.’

Rowlands screwed up his face in protest. ‘That’s going to take ages.’

‘Well get on with it then. You’re going grey as it is.’