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turns to patrol the streets?’ Marie asked.
    â€˜We’re just being careful, that’s all,’ Lucy said unconvincingly. ‘Anyway, why would you think it was the Ripp— why would you think it was that man, who Grace went off with?’
    â€˜Because she’s been gone for five hours!’ Marie screamed. ‘Five bloody hours.’
    â€˜She’s a smart girl,’ Lucy said. ‘She wouldn’t take any unnecessary risks.’
    But was she so smart? Marie wondered.
    Grace said she was nineteen, and that she’d been on the game for three years. But sometimes, when you caught her without any make-up on, she didn’t look more than fifteen. And even with make-up, there was still a hint of the fresh-faced innocent about her which reminded Marie of herself, when she’d first started out walking the streets.
    And how long did you keep that look, girl? she asked herself. Six months at the most!
    â€˜I’d better be moving on,’ Lucy said. ‘You want to learn to relax a bit, Marie. Carry on worrying the way you are, and you could end up a basket case.’
    I could end up a lot of things, Marie thought. I could end up dead .

FIVE
    D S Kate Meadows appeared in the doorway of the Drum and Monkey’s public bar, looked around, and spotted her new boss and the rest of the team at the table on the other side of the room.
    Studying the deliberately purposeful way she strode across the room, Paniatowski felt a momentary glimmer of hope that perhaps – against the odds – Meadows was the bearer of some important piece of information which would help them to wrap up this bloody case in no time at all. Then, taking a closer look at Meadows’ elfin face – and reading the very adult frustration that was residing there – she felt that hope flicker and die.
    Paniatowski gestured towards the empty chair next to Crane, and said, ‘Anything to report, Kate?’
    â€˜Kershaw’s neighbours are either deaf or dumb – or both,’ Meadows said, sliding gracefully into her seat. ‘None of them – not a single one – appears to have seen a bloody thing.’
    Paniatowski felt her recent grumpiness start to evaporate, and did her best to hide a half-smile which had forced itself on to her lips.
    She had been like Meadows once, she thought – young, enthusiastic, expecting every investigation to open up as neatly and easily as a tin of sardines.
    â€˜You look like you could use a drink, Kate,’ she said. ‘What’s it to be? A pint of best? Or would you prefer a short?’
    â€˜A tomato juice, thank you,’ Meadows told her.
    Around the table, three sets of very surprised eyebrows involuntarily rose, and then, when the wearers realized how rude that might appear, were quickly lowered again.
    â€˜So you just don’t fancy a drink tonight, then, Sarge?’ Crane said, to cover his own embarrassment – and possibly that of the others. ‘Well, I can sympathize with that – I sometimes don’t feel like one myself.’
    â€˜Not that that happens very often, young Jack,’ Colin Beresford said, with a chuckle.
    â€˜It’s not that I’m not drinking tonight – it’s that I don’t drink at all,’ Meadows said, and though she appeared to be addressing the remark solely to Crane, it was plain that it was intended for the whole table. ‘And, in case the thought’s crossing your mind that I might be a recovering alcoholic, Jack, let me assure you, here and now, that I’m not.’
    Crane blushed. ‘I didn’t mean to . . .’ he began.
    â€˜I know you didn’t,’ Meadows said, with a softening smile. ‘But it’s better to get these things straight right from the start, don’t you think?’
    She was clearly a woman who knew her mind, Paniatowski thought approvingly.
    â€˜As a matter of fact, I’ll skip even a