‘Okay, guys, you sure about this?’ Kim asked, looking at both of her colleagues.

Stacey nodded emphatically, and Bryant followed her lead. And then winced.

Kim caught it. ‘S’pose you’re going home after this is done, eh?’

‘Doctor’s orders,’ Bryant said. ‘Well, most importantly, the wife’s,’ he admitted.

Bryant had been discharged from hospital Sunday afternoon but had insisted on coming in to the office to finalise his statement.

Richard Terry Chance had confessed to everything, against the advice of his brief, when she’d questioned him. Throughout the case she’d been seeking a full confession, but she hadn’t expected it to come from the man who had been kind and helped her on Monday afternoon.

But that had been the chilling part. He had recited everything he’d done, while, not with a sense of pride, but with an expectation of understanding and empathy. He genuinely felt that he’d done nothing wrong and that a jury would agree with him.

She had spent Saturday afternoon visiting with the Cordell family and talking them both through the whole thing.

Afterwards she’d visited the Mancini home and sincerely apologised to them both. They had accepted gracefully still unable to believe the man they’d both classed as a friend had been capable of such a crime, never mind trying to frame either one for the murders. Richard Terry Chance had shrewdly tried to frame father and son under the shroud of kindness. He had brought the sad-looking, cheap plant as an excuse to get into the property. Once there he’d dropped the blood-soaked glove into the waste bin and covered it over while telling the younger Mancini about the Reeboks he’d handed in to lost property, knowing full well the man would claim them at the earliest opportunity. Richard Terry Chance had fooled them all.

Vanessa and Mia were still shaken but thankful. With her husband back from his business trip, Vanessa had decided to take a leave of absence to spend some time with her family, which Kim suspected was a little bit overdue, but most definitely a loss for the hospital.

And just a few moments ago Stacey had received a call that Mrs Weston was waiting downstairs with her daughter and Jessica Ryan, all ready to make statements about the abuse, as promised.

Stacey had offered to pass it along, and Kim had refused. Only Stacey’s tenacity and Penn’s assistance had uncovered the poor girl’s history and her mother’s actions. Stacey would take the statement and work with the authorities to keep the girl safe and well. It was her case and she would finish it.

Which brought Kim nicely to something that was long overdue.

She cleared her throat. ‘Guys, listen, before Penn gets here, there’s something I’d like to say.’

All eyes were on her as she took a breath.

‘We all miss him,’ she said honestly. ‘Dawson was important to us all in one way or another. He was a part of this team and will always be with us. We were lucky to know him and watch him grow.’ She took a deeper breath. ‘But now it’s time to let him go, okay?’

Stacey wiped a tear, and Bryant looked away.

‘Okay?’

‘Okay, boss,’ Stacey said.

‘Got it, guv,’ Bryant said.

And there was something else overdue too.

‘Hey, Bryant, you popping round tonight? Barney misses you.’

‘Aww… sorry, boss, I can’t. I’m washing my hair,’ he said.

‘Great, bring pizza,’ she said, as Penn entered the office.

‘Hey, am I late?’ he asked, colouring.

‘No, you’re okay,’ Kim said, as he walked past carrying his Tupperware box.

‘Hey, Penn, great work with the forensics on Chance,’ she said.

He looked around as if it was some kind of joke. But it wasn’t.

Every detail had been organised and noted and ready to hand. His bullet points had been chronological, succinct and relevant. He had sat beside her handing her information before she’d even known she needed it.

Later, she had watched back the footage of the interview they’d conducted together. In the interview room, away from the office, away from the desk, she had watched Penn the officer and not Penn the replacement.

The kid had his own problems and a whole heap of responsibility to come but he’d just done his job in the face of a wave of hostility and never once fought them back. Because he had understood.

He placed his man-bag on the floor and moved the set of trays that Stacey had artfully rearranged.

His brow furrowed in confusion. ‘What’s that?’

Kim stepped forward. ‘It’s a plant, Penn, and her name is Betty.’

She smiled and offered her hand.

‘And I’d like to formally welcome you to the team.’