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for her murder,” Kidd said. “Well done. It’s a much longer sentence. Will really give you some time to think about what you’ve done.”

Chris didn’t hesitate a second longer, launching himself at Kidd. Ben dodged the first swing, managing to punch Chris square on the nose, but it wasn’t enough to deter him. Chris countered, punching Kidd hard across the face, hard enough that Ben stumbled over his own feet and onto the ground by the water.

Chris kicked Kidd’s stomach, once, twice, a third time.

Kidd coughed, blood splattering the rocks.

Chris straddled Kidd, punching him in the face over and over and over until the world started to swim in front of Kidd’s eyes. He could see blue lights flashing in his periphery. He just needed to hold on long enough for them to get here, for them to realise where he was.

The punching was relentless, Kidd unable to block every single one, unable to stop his face from being battered. And then there was a hand around his neck. Squeezing.

The world was already fading away, and Kidd knew he wouldn’t have long to do something. He swung an arm wildly, hitting Chris in the side of the head, once, twice, a third time. Refusing to let go of him, but Chris’ grip was loosening. Enough that Kidd could get a breath full of air into his lungs.

With what strength he had left, DI Kidd ripped Chris’ hands from his throat and smacked him hard across the face. It was enough. Kidd knew it would be his only opportunity.

With great effort, he pushed Chris Harper off of him and punched him once more, sending him tumbling onto the mud. A police car on blues drove down the road towards the riverside, headlights blazing, lighting up the area. In its light, Kidd could see that Chris Harper was in no fit state to get up.

A couple of uniformed officers got out of the car, quickly followed by DS Sanchez, concern painting her face when she caught sight of Kidd. The uniformed officers cuffed Chris Harper, dragging him over to the car as DI Kidd fell to his knees and the world faded to black.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

There was a nearby beeping sound as Benjamin Kidd awoke, the sound of air being pumped, of light footsteps click-clacking across the floor, of voices that he didn’t recognise breaking through the quiet. He came around slowly, the brightness of the lights on the ward assaulting his eyes as he opened them.

The smell of the place was all too familiar. He’d spent one too many nights in hospital wards, whether that had been with a colleague, a victim, or even a suspect. But today it was his turn to be checked out, to be fixed up, and he felt like a wreck.

“Well, well, well.” Zoe’s voice was a welcome one. She appeared by his bedside as if by magic with a steaming Styrofoam cup, tea so weak it wouldn’t be able to defend itself, nearly overflowing the rim. “Sleeping Beauty has finally awoken from her slumber.” She took a quick sip of the drink and winced. “Want one?”

“Fuck no,” Kidd said, though his throat hurt. He needed something. He was about to reach for the water on the bedside table when Zoe made a noise that stopped him. “What?”

“You probably shouldn’t be moving about like that,” she said, putting her tea down and marching around to the other side of the bed to pour him a glass. “You’ve almost had your fucking head caved in, reaching for a glass of water is probably enough to send you unconscious again.”

“How long was I out?” Kidd asked, aware of how much of a cliché it was.

She rolled her eyes. “Drama queen, it is literally the next day,” she replied. “You collapsed at the side of the river, I panicked, so did the PCs who picked up Harper, we called an ambulance and got you here. They said you were concussed. It’s a fucking miracle you’ve even woken up.” She handed him the glass of water.

“Did we—?”

“Get him?” she interrupted. “Yes, could you stop working for a second?”

“No,” he snapped. “Tell me what happened. I need to know.”

“You’re going to kill yourself working all the time, you know?”

He was very much aware. But it was not working all the time that had cost him Sarah Harper’s life, stopped him from managing to figure it all out a little bit quicker. It wasn’t a thought he wanted to dwell on, but it was one he was having.

Zoe sighed and returned to the other side of the bed, sitting in the chair where Kidd assumed she’d spent her time waiting for him to wake up. She was his friend, he had expected her to be here when he woke up, but he hoped she wasn’t keeping vigil at his bedside.

“We got Alexandra Kaye, got a full confession out of her actually,” Zoe said. “The guilt got the better of her I think. And the sudden realisation that she was about to kill her own son, or at least have Chris kill him. The details of that are still a little fuzzy.”

“Are they blaming each other?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “One says the other was going to do it, trying to get away with a shorter sentence probably.”

“Sounds about right.”

“They were trying to frame Norman, it turns out,” Zoe said. “The death of Sarah Harper, while tragic, was an accident.  He chased her through town and she fell.”

“He strangled her.”

“She might have already been dead.”

“But we’ll never know,” Kidd said, taking another sip of water. He moved to sit up in bed and Zoe made another noise. “Stop it, Sanchez, I’ve got to sit up or I’ll spill my water.”

“Be careful.”

“If he hadn’t have strangled her and called an ambulance maybe she'd be okay,” he said. “He killed her for the sake of his secret. To keep everything quiet about his relationship. He chose Alexandra Kaye over his daughter and I want

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