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get her secondment to Liverpool extended.
    They had been together for two months when things went suddenly wrong. They were in McManus’s flat, an elegant one-bedroom pad high enough up in a new block to give a spectacular view over the Mersey. McManus was in a jubilant mood, and over a glass of wine he explained that Pears, the drug dealer, had been arrested again and this time the Crown Prosecution Service were going to prosecute.
    ‘What changed?’ asked Liz.
    ‘New evidence,’ said McManus.
    ‘Really, what sort of evidence?’ She was curious to know, since the CPS had previously complained that the avail­able evidence was too circumstantial.
    ‘A witness has come forward. He’s prepared to say he saw Pears make a big sale.’
    ‘That’s excellent,’ said Liz. ‘Why did he come forward now? It must be a bit risky for him. Are you going to have to protect him?’
    McManus shrugged. ‘Maybe it was my appeal to his better nature – not that this particular little runt has one.’ He paused and looked at Liz with a grin. ‘Maybe it had something to do with letting him off another charge if he came good in this case.’
    ‘A deal, in other words,’ said Liz, starting to understand.
    ‘If you want to call it that.’
    ‘What else should I call it? The little runt, as you call him, has decided he’s seen something because that way he gets off.’
    ‘It may be a rough kind of justice, but believe me it’s still justice. He would have seen Pears do other deals plenty of times.’
    ‘But not this one?’
    Again McManus shrugged, this time in acknowledgement. His jubilation was gone. He said defensively, ‘What the hell. I didn’t say it was ideal. But this way we’ll get a result.’
    Liz said, ‘It’s wrong. You know that.’
    He looked at her and shook his head. ‘Forget about it. More wine?’
    ‘No, thanks. You haven’t answered my question.’
    ‘I didn’t hear any question.’ He’d got up and was pouring himself a glass of Chianti.
    Liz said, ‘You know what I mean. I know what you’ve done, and it’s wrong.’
    ‘Says who?’ His voice was sharp now. ‘Says Liz Carlyle, twenty-something trainee spook from London. The same Liz Carlyle who’s never walked a beat, never made an arrest, never looked down the barrel of a gun held by some scumbag who’d as soon pull the trigger as sneeze. A Liz Carlyle who might be just a little out of her depth here.’
    He had never spoken like this to her before. She said as calmly as she could, ‘It’s not right, Jimmy. Not because little Liz Carlyle says so. It’s not right because it just isn’t. You can’t go round making up evidence just because you’re convinced someone is guilty. You can’t be judge and jury; that’s not your job.’
    ‘Nice speech, Liz, but if we can’t rely on the legal system, what else can we do? If I have to bend the rules to get this bastard, I will. It’s the results that matter. Getting Pears off the streets and locked up where he belongs.’
    ‘It’s not some minor rules you’re bending, it’s the law. Here you are saying Pears can’t stand above the law, but then where are you standing?’
    McManus made a show of looking at his watch. ‘Time’s up,’ he announced. ‘Our booking’s ten minutes from now. You better get your coat.’
    The flippancy in this dismissal enraged Liz. ‘I’ll get my coat,’ she snapped. ‘And see myself out.’
     
    They didn’t speak for three days, each locked into their conviction that they were right. Finally Liz decided it was ridiculous to behave this way – she was never going to agree with what he’d done, and her whole view of the man had changed. But even if they weren’t going to be lovers any more, it seemed ridiculous not to be on speaking terms, so towards the end of the day, when McManus came into the office and sat down at his desk, she went over.
    ‘Fancy a drink?’ she said lightly. Purvis at the desk next to them was pretending not to