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were pushing through the crowd towards a low podium. Janie spotted Detective Superintendent McIntyre in among the gaggle of uniformed officers, most of whom she more or less recognised. Only one was a total stranger, a tall woman wearing the uniform of a chief superintendent as if it were the highest couture. Where the other officers struggled through the crowd, she moved with catwalk elegance, gaze fixed directly ahead. Janie cursed her shortness as all but one of the group took seats at the back of the podium before she could get a good look at the new station chief’s face. Her fleeting impression was of surprising youth and striking beauty. Not at all what she had been expecting from a time-served Met officer.

One of the uniformed superintendents came straight to the lectern. ‘Thank you, everyone. We’ll make this as brief as possible.’ A Strathclyde officer, if his accent was anything to go by.

‘I know it’s not been easy these past few months, especially since Deputy Chief Constable Robinson retired. We’ve been short-staffed for far too long, especially in CID. However, that’s all about to change now. I’m sure there’s been plenty of gossip already, so I’ll just get on with it and introduce our new station head. Chief Superintendent Elmwood comes from the Met, but I’m sure we’ll not hold that against her.’

The elegant woman stepped up to the lectern, giving the superintendent who had introduced her the briefest of scowls, which Janie felt the man clearly deserved. When she turned towards the assembly, however, her face was all beaming smile. Janie would have put her in her early forties at the oldest, which made her rise through the ranks to her current position impressive. Either that or she had a painting of an ugly old hag hidden away in an attic somewhere.

‘Thank you, Donald, for that delightful introduction.’ The chief superintendent’s accent fell strangely on Janie’s ears. It wasn’t the Englishness of it so much as the odd mix of posh inflection and something that sounded a bit like the actors on EastEnders. It put her in mind of Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins for a moment.

‘I expect you’re all wondering why I got this job rather than someone a bit more home grown. Well, in the light of recent events . . .’ The chief superintendent put heavy emphasis on those last two words, then paused for even greater effect. She had the room in total silence, which was quite an achievement, Janie had to concede.

‘In the light of recent events, the chief constable thought it would be a good idea to bring in some fresh blood, as it were. Someone unconnected with Police Scotland until now.’

Another pause, and this time the quietest of murmurs rippled through the room before the chief superintendent spoke again.

‘I can understand how that might put a few people’s backs up. And I know I have a steep learning curve ahead of me. I aim to do my best for this station, for Edinburgh and for Police Scotland as a whole. All I ask of you is that you give me the chance to prove myself before you send me packing. I’ve no great desire to go back to England any time soon, as I’m sure you can all understand.’

A quiet burble of laughter echoed around the room at that, and Janie realised the new chief superintendent had won them over with just a few well-chosen words. She could only hope the woman was as good at her job as she was at rallying the troops.

‘There’ll be changes over the coming weeks and months, as I’m sure you’re all expecting. However, let me assure you that I won’t be allowing any further reductions in the workforce here. Quite the opposite. The chief constable has already signed off on new recruitment, both in uniform and plain clothes. You’ll all be informed of the changes in due course, but for now I just wanted to let you know the good news, and tell you all how excited I am to be here. Thank you.’

Spontaneous applause stuttered into life as the new chief superintendent stepped away from the lectern, something Janie couldn’t ever recall for a senior management pep talk before. DC Blane leaned close as she failed to join in.

‘About time we had some more detectives,’ he said over the loud clap of his own massive hands. Janie merely smiled and nodded. She’d believe it when she saw it.

‘Janie, have you got a minute?’

DC Harrison stopped in her tracks, causing the flow of uniformed officers to pass around her in a dark blue stream of curses and grumbles. She recognised the voice of Detective Superintendent Jayne McIntyre and knew better than to pretend she hadn’t heard. And in the absence of DI Ritchie, there wasn’t anyone else obvious she could take the news about Cecily Slater to anyway.

‘Ma’am?’ Janie pushed her way through the last of the departing officers and approached the small group still clustered at the top of the room. Closer in, she had her first clear view of the new chief superintendent, and was once again struck by her apparent youth. Her skin glowed, and her high cheekbones and thin nose gave her the chiselled look of a model rather than a senior police officer. Only her eyes, grey and piercing, hinted at something a bit more steely underneath.

‘This is the detective constable I was telling you about, Gail. Harrison has worked closely with DCI McLean since moving from uniform to plain clothes – what is it? Three years back?’

Gail. Not ‘Chief Superintendent’ or ‘ma’am’, Janie couldn’t help noticing. But then McIntyre had always been one for informality whenever it didn’t interfere with carrying out duties.

‘The Chalmers case, ma’am,’ she said, after the awkward silence suggested an answer was needed. ‘And yes, that would be coming up for three years now.’

‘Should be making detective sergeant then, shouldn’t you?’ the chief superintendent asked. Janie couldn’t tell whether the woman was chastising her or

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