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moment.’
    Phil turned away, walked down the gangplank. The image of the dead woman seared on his retinas. The hatred someone must have felt to do that . . .
    Nick called out to him. ‘I’ll let you know when I’ve got anything.’
    ‘Thanks, Nick.’
    Phil called Mickey and Rose to him. Looked at the pair of them. His new team. He hoped they were as good as . . . Just hoped they were good. ‘Right,’ he said, ‘this is it. I should imagine this case is going to be high priority so I need you to be on top of your game here. Pool information. Support each other. No mavericking, right?’
    They both nodded.
    ‘Right,’ said Phil. ‘Here’s what needs to happen. The Birdies should be here soon. They can—’
    Mickey Philips laughed. ‘The what?’
    ‘Birdies,’ said Phil, impatient at the interruption. ‘DC Adrian Wren and DS Jane Gosling. Hence, the Birdies. Adrian can follow Nick to the mortuary, do chain of evidence. Jane can get started with you, Mickey, on the door-to-door.’
    Mickey Philips looked around. ‘Over there?’
    ‘Start with the businesses here. Someone might have been in early, seen something. Then after that . . .’ He looked across the river. ‘The flats over there. Coordinate with uniforms. Rose, you handle that. You’ve done it before, see what Julie Miller’s neighbours have to say.’
    Rose nodded. Phil looked saw the eagerness in her eyes. Ready, burning to go. He hoped that energy wasn’t misplaced. He didn’t want her making mistakes. Either of them, for that matter.
    ‘I’ll get Milhouse to set up the incident room back at Southway, get a mobile one put here, couple of uniforms manning it. Bit of presence, you never know.’ He looked between the two of them.
    ‘What about where she was killed, boss?’ said Mickey. ‘Should we be looking for that?’
    ‘Initiative is good,’ said Phil, ‘and I approve, but, as our esteemed leader DCI Fenwick would say, that would be creating a needle/haystack interface.’
    Mickey, surprised at Phil criticising his superior, smiled. Phil also noticed that Rose’s attention sharpened at the mention of Fenwick’s name. He caught the look, filed it away with the other stuff.
    Phil continued. ‘We think we know who she is. Once that’s confirmed, hopefully the where and the why will follow.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Anni should be joining us soon, so that’s one more body.’ He looked between the pair of them. ‘Any questions?’
    If they had, they were keeping them to themselves.
    Phil breathed in, out. No pain. His ribs felt fine.
    ‘Good. Right. Let’s—’
    ‘What the hell’s going on with my boat?’
    The three of them turned. A middle-aged man, red-faced and sweating, was running towards them, a uniform in pursuit.
    ‘Ah,’ said Phil, smiling. ‘I think this may be the boat’s owner.’ He turned to the other two. ‘I’ll deal with him. You go catch a killer.’

8

    A nni’s questions had kept Suzanne’s tears at bay. She pressed on.
    ‘Suzanne, your flat. The CSIs are checking everything now. They say the lock on the door hasn’t been forced. Same with the window. Is there any other way someone could have got in?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘Anyone else have a key?’
    Something flitted across her face. Dark and swift, an evil fairy-tale sprite. ‘No.’
    Anni leaned forward, surprised by the response. ‘You sure about that?’
    ‘Just . . .’ Suzanne kept her eyes averted from Anni. ‘Zoe. My friend Zoe.’
    The look hadn’t been for her friend Zoe. ‘No one else?’
    Suzanne looked away, shook her head.
    ‘Suzanne, I’m trying to help you here. If there’s someone who could have had a key then please tell me. It could be important.’
    Another sigh from Suzanne. ‘I think Mark might still have one.’
    ‘Who’s Mark?’
    ‘Mark Turner. My old boyfriend. But he’s . . . It’s not important. We’re not seeing each other any more.’
    ‘Could he have done this?’
    ‘I doubt