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that has been checked for prints and DNA, I want you toget it photocopied, then get the team to phone everyone in it.’
    ‘Little black book, eh? Full of girlfriends is it?’ Parker asked.
    ‘Well, that’s what I want you to check out for me, Sergeant, so maybe you’ll get lucky.’ Saxon pointed at the bag. ‘Just get on with it and have some respect for the recently deceased.’
    ‘Sorry, boss. Anything else?’
    ‘Yes, you can make a note of all the framed awards on the landing. I want to know where and when Mr Janson was employed for the last umpteen years. Not only that, I also want to know who he worked with and for – could be a jealousy thing, could be an old vendetta. Long shot though, I doubt it will lead us anywhere. And check out for a will. Some of those paintings are not bad at all. Perhaps he has other stuff to pass on to a relative or friend. Maybe someone couldn’t wait.
    ‘Also, get on to traffic and check if they were in the area taking random number plates.’ Saxon paused for breath.
    ‘I’ve already checked that out, boss, there was a squad car in the area, but they weren’t checking plates.’
    ‘Shit, you’re kidding – bring back the old days. What do they do all night – sit in side streets and stuff their faces with pizza? At least it might have given us something useful, rather than fuck all. And where is sodding SOCO?’
    Monday, May 6, Conquest Hospital Bus Stop, Brighton , 12.35PM
    Tucker was livid as he approached the bus stop at some speed. Two people were waiting and they both looked up in surprise as he strode up, muttering to himself loudly. ‘Fuckin’ bastard! Who’s he think he is? Fuckin’ arsehole, that’s what.’ He glared at his prospective fellow passengers, an elderly man and a middle-aged woman. They both recoiled. His face was almost purple with rage.
    ‘What right does he ’ave to go on at me about me personal high jeans an’ stuff?’ He was still marching back and forth. Theelderly man looked at the middle-aged woman and they both backed away from Tucker and towards each other.
    ‘Go ’ome and fuckin’ wash ’e said!’ Tucker pointed his armpit indignantly at the couple. They withdrew further.
    Monday, May 6, Angel Cottage, Sewel Mill, 12.45PM
    Guy Parker was on his hands and knees on the top landing, painstakingly listing the details of each of the awards on display. He was fervently wishing that Janson hadn’t been quite as successful.
    Saxon glanced at him as he went back to the bedroom. He considered Parker to be an excellent police officer and, when necessary, reliable and tough. He was streetwise in a way that Saxon knew he himself wasn’t, or not to the same extent. If a situation got a bit heavy, Parker was definitely one to have on your side. Not only did he have the height, he was also fit and wiry. Not many people could’ve gotten close enough to Parker to land a punch, even if they’d had the bad sense to try in the first place. Saxon once pictured him as a gibbon on steroids, an image that had stuck in his mind subsequently. But he’d never mentioned this to him.
    Parker wasn’t one to seek out trouble though. The vibes he gave off were sufficient. His appearance meant that he very rarely had to use the physical prowess people just assumed he had. He was married with two children, a fact that often played on his mind. When a police officer died in the line of duty, the newspapers always described the deceased as “married with two children”. Never three, or one, it always seemed to be two.
    Parker smiled, as always, at the thought of his kids. This case would mean more time away from home, while he stayed at a police house in Brighton rather than commuting daily back to South London. He didn’t mind. Working sixteen-hour days meant that he would hardly have seen them anyway, so it made sense to be close by. He’d make a point of calling home in theearly evening, when they were home from school and just after they’d had