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can’t just leave it there. We’ll have to call the police.’
    ‘What about the council?’ Liz suggested. ‘Can’t they do something?’
    ‘The council? What are you talking about? What can the council do? This isn’t a dead rat we’re talking about.’
    ‘Shouldn’t we call a doctor?’
    ‘The police bring their own.’
    ‘We can’t have the police snooping round here. What if they want to question us? What if they find the dope?’
    ‘Don’t be stupid, Liz. What are you on about? Why would they want to come here? We have to call the police. They have to investigate a murder.’
    ‘You don’t know it’s murder. She could’ve taken an overdose. Maybe it’s a suicide.’
    ‘Don’t be a fucking idiot, Liz. The body’s in a bin bag. No one crawls into a bin bag before they commit suicide. Someone killed her and dumped the body there. Oh bloody hell. What are we going to do?’
    ‘Calm down. Here.’
    She lit two cigarettes and handed him one.
    ‘We’ve got to think,’ he said, inhaling hard.
    His hands were still trembling.
    ‘You’re right,’ Liz said. ‘We’ve got to phone the police. I’ll move the dope and you make the call.’
    ‘Fuck the dope, there’s a dead body in the alley.’
    He sounded slightly hysterical.
    ‘Calm down, Dave. The way you’re carrying on they’re going to think you had something to do with it. Dave - ’
    She stared at him with sudden apprehension.
    ‘You didn’t – I mean – is it someone you know? Do you know who she is?’
    ‘No I bloody don’t. And you’d be in a right state if you’d seen it – her. Now fuck off and stash the dope while I call the police.’

9
WORKING TOGETHER
    G eraldine had planned to spend Sunday unpacking. She had slept really well, got up early, showered and gone out for breakfast, putting off her chores in spite of her good intentions. Finally she had returned to her flat and settled down to sort out the packing cases. Apart from her furniture all her belongings had been delivered to the living room, as the largest space in the flat. The move had been rushed and she hadn’t bothered with labelling anything so it was a bit of a lucky dip delving into the cases. She was carting an armful of utensils into the kitchen when her phone rang. She was on call, and having just moved to London didn’t expect to be given much time off, so she wasn’t surprised. A familiar exhilaration shook her, followed as always by a sour sense of guilt. She was pleased to be working again, but the call meant someone had died. With a quick glance around her living room filled with boxes, piles of books and heaps of clothes, she set off for Hendon and the start of her first case in London.
    ‘Here we go,’ she sang as she drove, in a tuneless chant. ‘I’m on my way, I’m off to London.’
    The traffic crawled along in places even though it was Sunday and the journey to Hendon took longer than she had expected, so she arrived with no time to look around before she was due at an initial briefing. As Geraldine walked in a young female officer beamed at her and Geraldine returned the smile. She had been told the Met would seem informal compared to the Kent force. The other woman approached and held out her hand. She had a warm, firm grip and an alert, friendly grin.
    ‘Hi, I’m Sam Haley, Detective Sergeant. I think we’re going to be working together.’
    ‘Detective Inspector Steel,’ Geraldine responded to the relaxed approach from a junior officer with slightly frosty formality.
    The sergeant didn’t seem to notice Geraldine’s reserve.
    ‘I can show you around if you like. I know you’re new to the Met. I did a stint up North but most of my time has been spent here in London, which suits me. I’m a Londoner born and bred. Where have you come from?’ She spoke very fast, with an air of suppressed energy.
    There was something wholesome about her stocky build and glowing complexion that gave the impression she was used to fresh air