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`˜Ask him what, precisely?'

`˜You know, whether he thinks a TV appeal might be helpful `“'

I take a deep breath. `˜If we start announcing that young women are being randomly dragged off the streets and assaulted we'll have panic on our hands, and the odd snide comment on Twitter will be the least of our bloody worries. I'm not about to provoke that sort of class-one mass hysteria unless and until we have completely discounted the possibility that this was a hate crime, perpetrated by someone Faith knew.'

I look round the room, drilling in the point. `˜So where are we with her friends? Her classmates `“ her wider circle?'

Somer's head goes up. `˜She doesn't really have one, sir. She's very private. She doesn't seem to have many friends.'

`˜There must be somebody `“ someone she's pissed off `“ someone with a problem with the whole transgender issue `“'

Somer looks bleak. `˜We have been looking, sir, honestly we have. But she really does keep herself to herself. The picture we've been getting is of someone who goes out of her way to be anonymous, who is careful to the point of paranoia about not upsetting anyone.'

`˜So who have you actually spoken to?'

Her turn to flush. `˜Her teachers, mainly. We've been circumspect about saying much to other students because she's so concerned about keeping her status a secret `“'

`˜You know as well as I do that her status may be the very reason she was attacked `“ how the hell can we rule that out if we can't even bloody mention it?'

Somer glances at Everett. I'm starting to lose patience now.

`˜Look, I'm not about to out anyone for the sake of it, but that's not what we're talking about here `“'

`˜I promised her, sir,' says Somer, cutting across me, bright red now, but holding my eye, standing her ground. `˜I promised her we'd respect her privacy.'

I try to count to ten, but only get to five. `˜And what if it happens again, what then? What if some other poor kid like her gets attacked? And what if next time the bastard who did it doesn't get interrupted? How are you going to explain that to the family? How do you think they'll react when you tell them that we knew there was someone targeting trans kids but did sod all about it because we were too frightened we might upset someone? But it won't be you telling them that, will it? No. It'll be me. As per bloody usual. Well, I'm sorry, Somer, but in future you're going to have to be a lot more careful what promises you make.'

I force myself to stop; I'm overreacting, I know I am. I'm pushing this too hard because I'm off-balance. Because I want hatred to be the answer. Because bad as that is, it's better than `“

`˜I could do some work on anti-trans groups, sir,' says Asante evenly. `˜See if there's anything local `“ anything on social media.'

`˜I've already looked,' says Baxter quickly, giving him a stare that says Get off my lawn. `˜Nothing doing.'

I flash a glare at him. `˜Then look harder.'

I turn to Everett and Somer. `˜And talk to her friends. And that's not a request. It's an order.'

* * *

Sent: Weds 03/04/2018, 08.35 Importance: HighFrom: AlanChallowCSI@ThamesValley.police.uk To: DIAdamFawley@ThamesValley.police.uk Subject: URGENTNot tagging this email with a case number for reasons that will become obvious. I just heard back from the lab `“ they found calcium sulphate on Faith Appleford's shoes, presumably picked up from the back of that van. There wasn't much, but it was there.Call me as soon as you get this.* * *

`˜What the fuck happened there?' says Quinn, keeping his voice low. He's just joined Everett and Gislingham at the coffee machine. Somer is nowhere to be seen. Asante is a few yards away, apparently reading something on the noticeboard.

`˜Has Fawley lost it or what?'

Gis shrugs. `˜Search me. I've never seen him like that before, that's for sure.'

`˜How come he's still flogging the bloody hate crime angle when he knows damn well we can't find shit-all evidence for it?'

Ev makes a face; she's never seen Fawley like that before either, and especially not with Somer. He's always gone out of his way to encourage her `“ to respect her judgement. So much so that at one time they all thought `“

`˜Could be more trouble with the wife?' says Quinn, a little louder now. `˜It was only a few months ago that we all thought she'd left him `“ what do you reckon? More shit in that quarter?'

Gis gives him a warning look and a meaningful glance towards Asante, who's well within earshot. But he still seems completely absorbed in the proposed changes to the Police Service Pension Scheme.

Ev shakes her head. `˜I don't think it's that `“ not this time. I saw them last weekend at the Summertown farmers' market. She had her back to me but they looked pretty loved-up.'

`˜So what then `“ has he got Harrison chewing his ear?'

Gis considers. `˜Hasn't he always? But whatever it is, I say we just keep our heads down and avoid pissing him off, eh?' He reaches for a plastic cup and presses the button for cappuccino. `˜Which in your case, Quinn, means tracking down those hire vans. And pronto.'

Quinn gives him a sardonic look Gis pretends not to see, and the three of them make their way back to their desks. A few moments later Somer emerges from the Ladies. Her hair is smooth and her face calm, but there's a slight redness about her eyes that only someone observant would see. As she draws close to Asante he turns from the noticeboard.

`˜Everything OK?'

He says it pleasantly enough but there's something about him that always makes her unsettled.

`˜Of course,' she says, quickening her step. `˜Why wouldn't it be?'

* * *

Adam Fawley

3 April 2018

09.15

You don't need to tell me I didn't handle that very well. I was just a bit wrong-footed, that's all. It's been years `“ years when I've done my damnedest to lock it away, and now, out of nowhere `“

My phone rings. It's Challow. He hasn't bothered waiting for me to call him. And he doesn't bother with informalities either.

`˜You got the email?'

`˜Are you absolutely sure `“ it couldn't be anything else?'

`˜Unlike human beings, chemistry doesn't lie. It's one reason why I like this job.'

`˜Shit.'

`˜Yes,' he says heavily. `˜I suspect that's probably the most appropriate response. In the circumstances.'

There's a silence. Then, `˜What are you going to do?'

`˜I don't know.'

I hear him draw breath. `˜You need to tell your team `“ it's not fair to keep them in the dark `“'

`˜I know. I just need some time to think this through.'

I can almost hear him shrug. `˜Well, that's your call, though it wouldn't be mine. But either way, you have to speak to Harrison. And without wishing to sound like a shit, if you don't, I will.'

* * *

Everett and Somer have opted to hang out in the canteen at the FE college in an attempt to keep things casual, but even without uniforms they stand out like grannies in Doc Martens. The students buy coffee and Danish and gather chattering at adjacent tables, but all the while you can sense the tension, see the glances thrown in the officers' direction. It's not unease exactly, but disquiet, an awareness that something's up.

`˜So what do we do?' asks Everett in an undertone. `˜Pull on our size elevenses and start gatecrashing?'

Somer gestures towards a girl who's just joined the coffee queue; she has a large portfolio on the floor by her feet, a pixie haircut and wide brown eyes. `˜That may be as good a place to start as any.'