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lines had been drawn between some of the names, accompanied by a few words indicating how they were connected. More lines radiated from one name than any other – ‘Thomas Villiers. DOB 1955. Manager of Craig Thorpe Youth Trust Children’s Home.’ Jim’s gaze dropped to Anna’s camera. He scrolled through the photos of Villiers. There were three of them. In the first two, Villiers was focused on the Mercedes, his face as composed and smooth as usual. In the third, he was staring into the camera, his eyes wide with surprise. No, not just surprise. Fear. The bastard was terrified of public exposure. Of course, given the sensitive nature of his work, some would say he had good reason to be. But Jim had spent most of his life staring into the eyes of innocence and guilt. And he’d rarely seen that kind of fear in the eyes of the innocent.
    Jim deleted the first two photos. He hesitated over the third, his forehead knotting. Again, Anna’s words reverberated in his mind. Is that how you brought down Forester and Harding? By being careful? His finger was still hovering above the delete icon when Garrett knocked and entered the office. The Chief Superintendent showed no surprise at finding Jim at his desk several hours after he’d been due to knock off. Since being cleared to return to duty, Jim had been first in the office and last out. His cardiologist had warned him against working long hours. Those who knew him better knew such warnings were a waste of breath. The job was all he had left.
    ‘Evening, Jim.’
    Jim nodded in return. The greeting wasn’t exactly friendly – their approach to the job and life was too different for them to ever be friends – but there was a grudging respect in both men’s eyes. ‘Let me guess, Miles Burnham’s been on the phone.’
    ‘He’s not happy. What were you hoping to achieve by showing Mr Villiers those photos?’
    ‘I just wanted to see his reaction.’
    ‘Well you certainly got a reaction. Mr Villiers is threatening to file a harassment complaint against you.’
    Jim grunted with amused contempt. ‘The last thing Villiers wants to do is draw attention to himself by kicking up that kind of stink.’
    ‘You’re probably right, but…’ An uneasy frown pulling at his forehead, Garrett indicated the board of names. ‘These aren’t people to be toyed with, Jim. They have the power to hurt us just as badly as we can hurt them. That’s why we need to be—’
    ‘Especially careful how we deal with them,’ Jim interrupted, finishing Garrett’s sentence for him. He’d heard this speech too many times over the past year. ‘Well I’m sorry, but being careful doesn’t always get results. I know you don’t want to hear this, but if we’re going to move this investigation forward we need to start taking more risks.’ He jerked his thumb at the board. ‘And that means stopping giving these pricks such an easy ride.’
    ‘We’ve interviewed every living person on there more than once. Taken DNA samples. Run detailed background checks. I fail to see how that equates to an easy ride.’
    Jim made a sharp dismissive motion. ‘We need to pull their lives apart. Talk to their families, friends, colleagues, anyone who might have information.’
    His frown deepening, Garrett shook his head. ‘We have no evidence of criminal activity by these people.’
    ‘We have Herbert Winstanley’s book.’
    ‘That’s not enough. If we were to do as you suggest, it would amount to publicly linking them to murder, rape, paedophilia and corruption.’
    ‘Would that be such a bad thing?’
    ‘Yes. Yes it bloody would. As things stand, it would mean the end of this investigation. And most probably the end of our careers too.’
    Jim gave a sneer that he didn’t allow to reach his lips. Since inheriting Charles Knight’s uniform, Garrett had made a lot of noises about changing departmental culture, adopting a zero-tolerance approach to crime and the conduct of his officers. But when