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she’d meant that to be light-hearted. She tried to give him a reassuring smile. ‘I best go find the guv.’
    ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Jamie held the door for her.
    Inside she gathered her thoughts. She needed to speak to the victim’s mother – she was with the relationship officers now. The SOCOs were out back looking for evidence of how the perpetrator gained access. DCI Moast favoured the alley that ran along the back of the houses. It wouldn’t be hard to vault the fence and enter through the garden. A robbery gone wrong? Perhaps. The perpetrator could have assumed everyone was asleep, come across Alun Mardling and, in the panic, killed him. There were no immediate signs of anything missing. Little sign of struggle. No evidence of forced entry. But she felt there was something disturbing about the way the man’s throat had been cut: too…sacrificial. The flask felt warm in her pocket – DCI Moast could wait a minute while she took another quick look at the body.
    Nasreen took the stairs two at a time. She could hear people moving around, one of the forensics team must still be here. She reached the bedroom door and froze. But she wasn’t staring at the blood, she was staring at the person in front of it.
    Was she a scene of crime officer? No. Ridiculous. She was just at Espress-oh’s. How’d she…? Where’d she…?
    ‘Freddie Venton, what the hell are you doing here?’
    Freddie – and it was definitely Freddie with that bizarre red streaked hair and dark kohl circles round her eyes – dipped her chin, then her eyes rolled back and she crumpled.
    Instinctively Nasreen rushed forwards, arms open, but someone got there first. She shuddered to a halt, before she ploughed into the uniformed back, the crown on the epaulette. It couldn’t be…‘Superintendent, sir!’ She stood straight. Heels together. Hands by her side. Palms sweating.
    Superintendent Gray, his salt-and-pepper trimmed eyebrows meeting at the exertion, turned to face her. The rag doll Freddie in his hands. ‘Sergeant, do you know this officer?’
    ‘I…er…sir…I…’ How was this happening? What was he doing here? He must have responded to the call-out. Like them.
Staff shortages
.
    ‘Spit it out, Sergeant.’ Superintendent Gray’s hands, smooth from deskwork, with neat clipped nails, gripped Freddie’s shoulders.
    ‘We studied together.’ The words were out before she could stop them. Her cheeks burned red. She’d lied to the Superintendent. Her training kicked in. Counter the epinephrine. Frame the situation. Respond. ‘I’ll take her outside, sir, get her some air.’
    ‘Nas?’ Freddie’s voice was hoarse.
    The Superintendent looked down at Freddie, his hair parting was ruler-straight. ‘Freddie, the Superintendent and I know it’s your first active crime scene. I’ll take you outside for some air.’ She tried to convey the severity of the situation with her eyes.
Play along.
Good grief, the girl was using the Superintendent’s arm to push herself up.
    Nasreen had gotten onto the Fast Track Programme. She’d put up with her colleagues’ inappropriate cracks. She’d faced down gang members, and once a man wielding a machete, she was damned if Freddie Venton was going to be her undoing. ‘I really think you…’
    Freddie pulled her arm away from Nas. She felt shaky, but there was no way she was leaving. She had to stay and get the story. Even with
that
there in the room. ‘Odd, isn’t it…’ Freddie’s words came out in a gasp. Fear ripped through her body like the knife through the dead man. She looked away from the gore.
Must bear witness.
Glimpses of a T-shirt and boxer shorts made it through the red. The thing – once a living breathing man – looked like it was dressed for bed. A hand still lay on the computer mouse. ‘Odd, isn’t it…that…this…happened at the computer?’
    ‘Plenty of people spend their free time on the computer.’ Nasreen seemed to have a problem controlling her