On Monday morning, Alex called a taxi to take her to the station in Pontypridd. Her car would be ready by the end of the day, providing the parts arrived at the garage as expected. She knew she should report the crime, but she couldn’t see where it would lead. She had no evidence of anything other than the damage to the brake line, and if Christian Coleman was responsible, it was a safe bet that there wouldn’t be any fingerprints to be retrieved. He was a thug, but he wasn’t an idiot. What good would come from pursuing the matter? If he had been intent on causing her harm, it would only be likely to exacerbate things.

Besides, she had bigger things to worry about that morning.

She had tried to tell herself that it had meant nothing, but the excuse was only intensifying her guilt. Being meaningless made her kiss with Dan somehow even worse. He was her colleague. He was a married man with children. Yet those things had meant nothing the previous evening – not while she was kissing him and not while she was hoping for more – and it was this that made Alex wonder what the hell had happened to her.

The team gathered in the incident room. There had been a few key updates that morning and she was keen to get them shared as quickly as possible. DC Jake Sullivan had been assigned the task of searching the CCTV recordings from the bus that had passed through Llwynypia on Saturday night, and it hadn’t taken him long to find something of interest.

‘I was hoping a passing bus might have picked up our suspect when he reached the main road from the park,’ Alex said, opening a file on the laptop in front of her. ‘Unbelievably, we got even better than that.’

There was a flood of chatter among the team as the CCTV footage taken from the 20.14 bus on Saturday evening was played out on the screen behind Alex. The vehicle was near empty, just two people and the driver visible, but at twenty-one minutes past eight, it picked up a person wearing a skeleton fancy dress outfit. The figure could be seen leaving money on the tray that rested beside the driver, then taking a seat near the front.

‘Until now, we’ve been assuming that our suspect had everything well planned and is thorough. This would suggest otherwise.’

‘Thick as shit, perhaps?’ Jake offered. He laughed at his own contribution, the smile quickly falling from his face at Alex’s silent response.

After an uncomfortable moment, she exhaled loudly. ‘Obviously it’s not a great image in terms of identification. The outfit is hooded and has a mask, so we can’t even tell if our suspect is black or white. This person attacked Corey and panicked. He was intercepted, threw the petrol can over a nearby wall and jumped on the nearest passing bus.’ She moved from the desk. ‘We’ve had the results back from the lab regarding the petrol used in the attack on Corey Davies. It’s a match with that used at the hospital, but not with the fuel used to start the fire at the Hassan shop.’

‘Are we reconsidering a link then?’ asked Chloe.

‘We might have to reconsider a link between all three. I don’t think the person responsible for the fire at the hospital is the same person who attacked Corey Davies. I think we might be looking at a copycat. Texaco petrol was used in Corey’s attack and to start the fire at the hospital. The closest Texaco petrol station to the incidents is in Llwynypia, with another in Pentre and the next being further down the valley in Porth. Most importantly, a set of prints were lifted from the petrol can.’ Alex returned to the desk and clicked a few keys on the laptop in front of her. An image was projected onto the screen behind her. ‘They belong to this man. He might be familiar to some of you.’

‘Spider,’ said Dan. He kept his focus on the screen, avoiding eye contact with her. Alex wondered if anyone else had noticed that neither had acknowledged the other that morning.

‘You know him?’ asked Jake.

‘Know of him. He’s got a spider-web tattoo,’ Dan explained, gesturing to his own elbow. ‘Here.’

‘Gavin Jones is thirty-six years old,’ Alex said, cutting through the exchange between the two men, ‘and lives in Pentre. He’s got quite an extensive record that stretches back fifteen years.’

‘Any previous for assault?’ Chloe asked.

Alex nodded. ‘One caution dating back nine years. Bar brawl. At the moment there appears to be no known link to Corey Davies. We do know that Gavin has previously worked as a mechanic and that he rides a motorbike. Chloe, I’d like you to come with me to pay Gavin Jones a visit. Dan, if you could continue updating social media and let me know if anything else comes in. The image of our suspect needs to go public. Jake, I’d like you to speak with the driver of the bus that picked up our suspect on Saturday night, see if he can remember anything else that might be useful to us. The rest of you, we need to find out where that skeleton outfit was purchased. We’re still waiting to see whether any DNA was retrieved from Corey’s fingernails or from those of the man who intercepted the incident. I’ll chase that up today.’

Alex brought the meeting to a close, but the team stayed put, chatting among themselves for a moment. She hadn’t noticed that Chloe had sloped off towards the meeting’s end, but she returned now, armed with a cake adorned with an array of burning candles.

‘Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you …’

The team’s attempt at singing came to a staggered and awkward halt as one by one they noticed Alex’s response to the obviously unwelcome attention. Her mouth had set in a thin line and her jaw had tightened. She hadn’t made eye contact with Chloe.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room.

‘Not really appropriate, is it?’ she said after what felt like an age.

The flush that rose in Chloe’s face was instant. ‘I—’ She cut herself short, glancing to Dan for support. Realising the gesture had been misjudged and that Alex’s bad mood had not been merely temporary, she lifted the cake board from the desk, letting the candles burn on as she turned away.

‘Okay,’ Alex said behind her, as though Chloe had already left the room. ‘Let’s get on with it, please.’