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part of my patch, so I lead her round the back to avoid the press, who are still hovering at the edge of the tape.

When we get in the car, I put the radio on. I’m suddenly exhausted. It’s been a long time since I had to deal with a crime scene in any form, and I’d almost forgotten the intensity of action and emotion. The radio is a good option, as it defers significant conversation. I notice Joanna glancing at me as she puts her seatbelt on, but she refrains from comment. We accomplish the drive home in a companionable lack of conversation – just the occasional discussion if a song comes on that we both like. That lasts until the News comes on. I turn the volume up.

“…and Manchester musician Troy Cassidy is distraught today after finding his wife murdered in their home. The police are investigating, and there are no suspects at this time.”

“Standard News report really,” says Joanna. “It doesn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know.”

“True. The question is, do we leave this to the police, or try to investigate ourselves?” My mouth is dry. I know this is not our job, but I need to know Joanna’s reaction.

“Murder is very much in the police domain. We might help, but I think we should concentrate on Penny.”

“What if they’re connected?” I slam on the brakes as a youth walks out in front of the car without looking. “Bloody idiot. Do they not teach kids how to cross roads these days?”

“He’s too busy looking at his phone. He’s not even noticed that you had to do an emergency stop to avoid hitting him.”

“You’re bloody right.” I pull over and wind down my window. “Hey you!” I bellow. I see from the corner of my eye that Joanna puts her hands over her ears. The lad doesn’t look up from his phone. “I’m going to get out and give him what for.” I click the seatbelt release button at my side.

Joanna puts her hand on my arm. “Don’t, Becky. It’s not worth it. This is not a safe area. He’s probably got a knife.”

“How do you know about the area?” I ask.

“A bit of research, combined with common sense. It just looks run-down. Small terraced houses. Graffiti. Junk in front yards. Come on. Belt up. Lock the doors, and let’s get back to mine for a coffee. Or maybe something stronger.”

Chapter Nineteen

We stop en route for a drive-through McDonald’s and take it back to Joanna’s for lunch. Seated in the kitchen, we have a few mouthfuls to settle the worst of the hunger pangs, before I resume our earlier conversation.

“So, we focus on Penny then?”

“Yes, but I think we should have another chat with the police. Do you think your friend Finn would want to meet up with us?”

“He’s going to be dead busy, but I can ask.” I take out my phone and tap out a message.

A minute passes, during which we continue eating. Then my phone vibrates.

“Hi Finn, are you okay? How’s it going?”

“As well as expected. Janice is with Troy and his daughter and in-laws, so they’re being looked after, and she’ll get back to us if they say anything that might be useful.”

“Great. We were just wondering if there’s anything Joanna and I could help with? Maybe something a bit out of your usual sphere?”

“What do you have in mind?” His tone is dry, revealing his scepticism.

“We’re working on it. Will you have any time to join us later, and we can discuss it?”

“Yeah, why not? When I get off duty, and who knows what time that’ll be. I’ll aim for around eight though. Are you at yours?”

“No, at Joanna’s.” I give him the address. “Message me when you leave. I’ll go home for a while in between.”

“I’ll bring food for me, but don’t wait to eat. You know what it can be like.”

“Sure. We’ll eat first, and maybe have some chocolate when you arrive, to stop us dipping into your dinner. See you tonight.” I end the call.

“So what do we have in mind?” I ask Joanna.

“That’s a damn good question, hen. It’s half past two now. That gives five and a half hours to come up with something that won’t make Finn feel like we’re wasting his time. You know him better than I do. What would he accept?”

“Something between a basic premise and a full-blown plan. The closer to the latter, the happier he’ll be.” I grin. “At the moment, I’ll settle for a workable premise!”

We spend the next hour tossing ideas around before we come up with something that might work. Another hour to fill in a few details, and although we’re a long way from the thorough plan that Finn would prefer, we’ve got a decent proposal for him.

***

I return home to have dinner with my family. It’s been a long day, and I need a few hours’ rest before meeting up with Finn.

“Mum, what time is Wendy coming?” Cheryl asks as I step through the door. “You’ve been out for ages.”

A stream of swear words appears in my brain, as if in a cartoon bubble. I’m ashamed to admit, even to myself, that with everything else that’s happened today I’d completely forgotten about my daughter’s troubles. I pull myself together to check my phone. Wendy sent a quick WhatsApp after our call this morning, confirming that she’d be with us around 7pm.

“I’d better get dinner going. Wendy will be here in about an hour and a half.” I delve through the kitchen cupboards.

“What are we having?”

“Do you fancy Spag Bol?” It’s one of Cheryl’s favourites, and there’s mince in the fridge.

“Sure.”

“Any developments today?” I ask.

“A couple of my friends messaged to say they’d heard I’d been blocking certain people. They wanted to know why, and whether they were on my hit list.”

“Did you tell them?”

“I just said that I was tightening up security, and that they were safe, but they might want to consider who their real

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