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to mention…’
    Clare interrupted. ‘Angie, you’re drooling again. Stop it!’
    The three of them laughed. Jake was not bad-looking by anyone’s standards and he seemed to be a pretty decent bloke.
    ‘So you think he’s kind to Steve because Steve’s ugly and stupid and disgusting…’ Melanie began, clearly not convinced.
    ‘Yeah, because Jake’s gorgeous and good enough to eat…’ Angie was off again.
    ‘Mmm. Not to mention funny. And kind. And very clean,’ Clare put in, laughing.
    ‘And healthy.’ Angie was not to be stopped.
    ‘Good teeth?’ Melanie offered.
    Angie hooted. ‘Great teeth.’
    They fell about giggling over their sandwiches and Melanie had to grab her Evian bottle to stop it falling over. People walking past them turned to look and smiled to themselves at the sight of three attractive young women, laughing together in the sunshine.

Chapter 4
    Monday, May 6, Brighton Police Station, 4.00PM
    The office that Saxon was to share with Parker back at police headquarters in Brighton was old but very functional, with an atmosphere of having been lived and worked in for many years. It exuded authority, formality, and even a certain menace. Saxon had used it before. He liked to think that the slight atmosphere of menace had been brought about by years of clenched buttocks involuntarily polishing the seats. Sharing the thought with Parker had induced roars of laughter, almost to the point of tears.
    In Saxon’s experience, just being in a police station often made people feel tense and uneasy. Even when they had little or nothing to feel guilty about, the effect was still the same.
    But it had to be said that this particular room did have a certain resonance about it. One of the clerks at the station had once remarked to Parker that the room had the right feng shui for its purpose. Parker had been non-committal.
    Brighton had its fair share of New-Age enthusiasts. Some might say more than its fair share. While he didn’t know too much about geomancy, and cared even less, Parker was of the opinion that it wasn’t just the surroundings that made people nervous, it was the tactics Saxon used when interviewing.
    One such tactic was to stare at the person being questioned and not blink, sometimes for minutes at a time. Saxon could live with the silence and the hard eye contact, but not all the interviewees could. He was already well-known at Brighton Police Station, as he used their facilities from time to time. Some of the police constables had once joked that if the military ever got hold of him, Saxon could be used as a secret weapon.
    The walls of the office were oak-panelled; some of the furniture was 1930s, not particularly attractive, but long-lasting. The building could not be said to be on the cutting-edge of officedesign and technology, but it did well enough for them.
    DS Parker was given a corner to himself and he was relieved to see that he was already on line. Parker loved computers. For Guy Parker, computers held the answer to almost everything. If the solution couldn’t be found in the police computer, then it was because some stupid bastard in records wasn’t doing his or her job properly.
    Computers were important in his personal life too. He helped his kids with their homework whenever possible, supervising their searches on the Internet very carefully. He took his parental responsibilities seriously.
    When he was away from home, as he knew he would be this week, he made a point of sending an email home to each of the boys every day. Hotmail was still the best invention yet on the Internet, as far as he was concerned. They’d had great fun choosing their email addresses and he knew that “you can check your email from Dad when you…” was a powerful inducement to an ever-growing number of things, including: “finish your dinner”, “pick up your clothes”, “clean your teeth”, “pack up your dinosaurs”, and so on. The possibilities were endless. And Lynne was expert