‘I really appreciate the lift, Trish,’ Kate said, squeezing her friend’s arm. ‘I don’t deserve you.’

Trish rolled her eyes, and waved away the praise. ‘Give over; you’re just lucky I happened to be driving to London to visit my sister.’ She pushed the indicator down and pulled onto double yellow lines. ‘Do you think you’ll be long?’

Kate looked out of the window at the eight-storey, neoclassical building marked NEW SCOTLAND YARD. ‘I don’t know yet. Can I call and let you know?’

Trish nodded. ‘But don’t forget, okay? I know what you’re like when you’ve got your head in a case. A text message is fine.’

Kate offered her a smile. ‘Do you and your sister have exciting plans for today?’

‘Nothing special. We’ll do the shops in Oxford Street, maybe lunch at Covent Garden. I’m hoping to be on the road home before the football traffic gets in the way. Shall we say four?’

Kate was staring back at the new headquarters of the Metropolitan Police Service. The building was pleasant enough to look at, but even with the familiar revolving sign in place, it lacked the character of the old building down the road. Kate wondered how much of the sale price had been invested back into the service, as promised.

Trish brushed her arm. ‘Kate? I said I want to be back on the road by four. Let me know when you’re done; maybe you could meet me and my sister somewhere?’

Kate opened the car door, and lifted herself out. At least it wasn’t raining here. Steadying herself on the single crutch, she closed the door, thanked Trish again and waved her off.

---

At the front desk, Kate showed her business card. ‘I’m here to see DCI Trevor Armitage.’

The officer behind the desk studied her credentials and picked up the phone.

‘DCI Armitage will be down in a few minutes,’ the officer confirmed as he replaced the receiver. ‘Please take a seat over there.’

She was relieved to sit and rest for a moment; she’d taken one of her painkillers before leaving home, and had promised herself not to take any more before she’d spoken to Armitage. She needed a clear head.

She looked up at the sound of her name, and recognised the tanned face and athletic build of DCI Trevor Armitage, wearing a winning smile that gave away very little. He remained behind the security barrier, but beckoned her over.

As she slowly made her way over, Armitage nodded at the officer behind the desk who clicked for the glass gate to open. He extended his hand to Kate and she shook it, trying not to react to the strength of his grip.

‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ he asked, his Oxbridge education evident in his voice.

‘I have some information about the Amy Spencer murder I thought I should share.’

He flashed the winning smile again. ‘That’s great. I have a room upstairs where we can discuss it.’ He called the lift, and when it arrived ushered her inside.

The doors opened on the sixth floor, and Armitage held each of the three security doors open for Kate until they reached a small glass room with a circular table inside.

‘Can I get you a tea or coffee?’ he offered, as she sat and dropped the crutch to the floor.

‘Coffee. Black, no sugar.’

He closed the door and returned a moment later with two plastic beakers of coffee, placing one on the table in front of her. ‘Sorry, it’s just the shit from the machine. I’m sure you’re as used to it as me.’

‘This’ll be fine.’

He sat down and spread his fingers on the table. She noted he hadn’t brought any paper or recording equipment with him. She tried not to let it get to her. ‘Have you had much response to the Crimewatch appeal? I watched it. You came across well.’

‘Thank you, but you know I can’t discuss an ongoing enquiry outside of my team.’

‘Come on, Trevor, it’s me you’re talking to.’

‘With respect, Matthews, nobody invited you to come here today. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?’

‘I thought you might have been more pleased to see me. After all, it was me who helped you get here.’

The smile disappeared. ‘I got to where I am on my own merit. Yes, you helped me secure my first posting, but a lot has happened since then.’

She sat forward. ‘Why haven’t you come to speak to me about the deaths of Willow Daniels, Roxie O’Brien and Steph Graham? I was SIO on those cases for nearly four months; nobody knows more about them than me.’

‘I’ve studied the case notes from your time in charge. They’ve given me a good insight into what went on. If I do have any questions, I know where you are, and I’ll get in touch. But for now, I’m comfortable with how we’re progressing.’

Clearly Armitage wasn’t going to make it easy for her, it was time to lay her cards on the table. ‘I think I know why the killer stopped after Amy.’