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for
itself,’ said Bradshaw. ‘The real problem seems to be Mr Karlsson’s
belief that a psychotherapist he happened to run into could be effective doing profiling
work as sort of hobby.’
    ‘Shall we stick to your track
record?’ said Karlsson.
    ‘Absolutely,’ said Bradshaw.
‘I’m here because Commissioner Crawford knew my work and appointed me
personally. If you have any objection to that, then now is the time to say
it.’
    ‘All right,’ said Karlsson.
‘I experienced your profiling skills on the Michelle Doyce case. Your analysis of
the crime scene was misleading. Your identification of the murderer was completely
mistaken and would have derailed the entire course of the investigation, if it
hadn’t been for Frieda Klein.’
    ‘It’s not an exact
science,’ said Bradshaw.
    ‘Not the way you do it,’ said
Karlsson. ‘Frieda Klein didn’t just get it right, she almost got killed
doing it. And that was after being effectively fired from the investigation.’
    Bradshaw give a sniff. ‘From what I
heard, Klein’s mishap came from the failings of your own officers. I may have myfailings, but I’ve never stabbed a mental patient to
death.’ He stepped back quickly when he saw that Karlsson had raised his right
hand.
    ‘Steady, Mal,’ said the
commissioner.
    ‘Frieda was fighting for her
life,’ said Karlsson. ‘And she showed you up for the idiot you are.’
He turned to Crawford. ‘He talks about his track record. Just check it out. From
what I’ve seen, Bradshaw is terrific at profiling criminals after they’ve
been caught. Frieda Klein was more useful when we were still searching for
them.’
    Crawford looked at the two of them.
    ‘I’m sorry, Mal, but I want Dr
Bradshaw to stay on the case. Just find a way to work together. That’s
all.’
    Karlsson and Bradshaw walked out of the
commissioner’s office together. Without speaking they reached the lift, waited for
it, got in and rode to the ground floor. As they stepped out, Bradshaw spoke. ‘Was
it Frieda who put you up to this?’ he said.
    ‘What are you talking
about?’
    ‘If she’s going to damage
me,’ he said, ‘she’ll need to be better at it than that.’
    They could all see that Karlsson was in a
thoroughly bad mood. It didn’t help that the principal operations room in the
police station was being painted. The desks were covered with sheets. Karlsson glanced
into the various conference rooms but they were already being used by other officers or
had been filled with displaced furniture and computers. In the end he led Yvette,
Munster and Riley down some stairs and into the canteen. Riley dumped a pile of files on
a table, then they all queued for coffees and teas. Munster and Riley bought a bun each,
covered with white icing. Karlsson looked disapproving.
    ‘While we’re here,’ said
Munster.
    ‘I missed breakfast,’ added
Riley.
    ‘As long as you don’t get the
files sticky,’ said Karlsson.
    ‘We’d better get used to
this,’ said Yvette, as they settled at their table in a corner of the canteen by a
window. ‘When the cuts take effect, those of us who’re left will be fighting
for office space.’
    ‘Hot desking,’ said Riley.
    ‘What?’ Karlsson frowned.
    ‘It’s the modern kind of office.
Nobody has their own desk. The idea is that you only occupy space when you need
it.’
    ‘What about your stuff?’ said
Munster. ‘Your paper clips and coffee mug.’
    ‘You keep them all in a locker.
It’s a bit like school.’
    ‘Not like my school,’ said
Munster. ‘If you left anything in your locker there, it got broken into and
nicked.’
    ‘If you’re quite ready,’
Karlsson interrupted.
    ‘Hang on,’ said Munster.
‘Is Bradshaw coming?’
    ‘He’s busy today,’ said
Karlsson.
    ‘Probably appearing on TV,’ said
Yvette, and Karlsson gave her a look.
    ‘You go first,’ he said.
    ‘The situation is pretty much what you
saw at the scene. We’ve had officers taking statements up and