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did the call-out for the police?"
"No, ma'am, we didn't. We weren't able to question her son. He was also in the flat at the time, but he suffers from autism and didn't want to speak to us."
"Anything from any of the other neighbors?"
"No. All said the same thing—that the dealers had been working there for several months. I can't believe the local cops didn't do more to bust the place. Apparently they dealt in the day as well as at night, with a lot of vehicles coming and going."
"Wasn't Jimmy Langton on that piggery case?"
Anna felt her cheeks flush. "Yes. He led the inquiry."
"Right. I know him—great guy. You've heard he's been made Chief Superintendent? Virtually running the Murder Squad?"
Anna nodded.
"You liked working with him?"
"Very much."
Cunningham now looked directly at Anna. "We must be very different."
"I'm sorry?"
"Is it different working on my team than Langton's?"
"Well, I can't really say. This is my first day."
"1 worked with him."
"Did you?" Anna gave a look of surprise. They didn't, to her, seem a good match.
"Long time ago, around about the time his first wife died. He fell apart, but picked himself up again. Married again, I think."
"Yes, I believe so." Anna wanted the floor to open up and swallow her. Talking about him physically hurt; she felt as if she was about to have a panic attack.
Cunningham was now really unnerving her as she sat perched on
the end of the small desk, her arms still folded. "Always good to have someone like him at the top. Most of the top line are wankers, but Langton—he's the business. I admire him; got great energy, and he's fearless—doesn't take any prisoners."
Anna felt right now that she was his prisoner—knowing what she did, knowing how dangerous a man he was, how he had covered up his part in a murder, albeit of the most despicable killer. It had happened on the hideous murder investigation when the bodies of a mother and child had been fed to pigs, and Langton had, at the same time and against all odds, recovered from a near-fatal attack to head up the inquiry.
The killer had died after being interrogated by Langton, and Anna was certain that Langton had engineered his death. He had made her a part of it, because she knew what he had done and yet kept her silence.
"He could be a mean bastard, though." Cunningham picked up one of Anna's sharpened pencils. "So how did Frank get along with him?"
"I think they were on good terms."
"Very cagey, aren't we?"
"No, ma'am, it's just you are asking me about things I haven't the information to give you answers on."
"He screw you?"
"I'm sorry?" Anna had to catch her breath.
"I said, Did he screw you? All right, don't answer. I can see by your hot flush he didn't. My, my, you are a straitlaced little madam, aren't you?" With that, Cunningham slid off Anna's desk and took the mere two paces needed to get to the door. "Okay. See you out there; briefing in half an hour." She closed the door behind her.
Anna shut her eyes. She should have been angry at the personal cross-questioning, but it had taken her so off guard, she hadn't been able to think straight. Cunningham obviously didn't know how close Anna had been with Langton, but that didn't calm her. She felt sure that, at some point, Cunningham would find out and know that she had lied.

CHAPTER 3
Anna went to the washroom and splashed cold water over her face. By the time she returned to the incident room, the team had gathered. They were waiting for Cunningham to join them. After a few minutes, she strode into the room and took up position in front of the board. She seemed on edge.
"Okay, let's have quiet, please," she said loudly. Everyone became attentive. Cunningham folded her arms: a noticeable gesture, though one she did almost unconsciously. "Right, we have a really explosive situation on our hands, as well as a tragic one."
Cunningham, in her low, cultured voice, seemed angry at the wait for the forensic and pathology reports. They had no details on any of the