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victim’s ex-boyfriend, but the woman had begun by contradicting her first statement, then completely
withdrawn the charge. It would have been good to take the man out of circulation for a while. Otherwise not a CID matter. He’d punched the victim to the ground then stomped on her a few times
for good measure, breaking her collarbone and several bones in her hand. What counted as losing your rag in some circles. Well don’t come running to us next time. The next time, of
course, it might not just be a couple of teeth and your collarbone.
    ‘What can I do, I love him,’ Fairfield mimicked in a squeaky voice. Not that the woman had actually said it, but it was the refrain she heard in her head when she came across
women in abusive relationships who every time went back for more. He’s always so sorry afterwards, so contrite . And there it was, that tiny illusion of power, the joy of forgiving.
That girl could do with a bit of heavy metal in her life rather than the boy-band crap she listened to. Perhaps it would give her enough backbone to get out of there. Mind you, these lyrics
weren’t exactly written by a feminist either. Fairfield quickly forwarded through the song to the next track.
    Her frustration had made her speed up too much, and she had to slow down quite hard for the bend ahead. Nothing in her mirrors. A speeding ticket was the last thing she needed. Superintendent
Denkhaus did his nut last time one of his officers was caught speeding, and she wasn’t in the super’s good books as it was. Never had been and had no idea how to get into them. To make
matters worse, DCI Gaunt was in hospital having ‘his operation’. He’d been waiting for ‘his operation’ for so long, she’d forgotten what it was for. She got on
with Gaunt, no matter what others thought of him. Popularity wasn’t important in this job; you could do well without it. It was results that counted.
    The road was empty now, and Fairfield speeded up again. How she’d love to drive a fast car on a race track one day. Still nothing in her mirrors. She checked her speed. Sixty. It seemed
like nothing, but it was idiotic in this mist. She slowed down a little. It was the end of her shift anyway, no need to hurry anywhere. She might not even check in at Albany Road nick; drive
straight home instead. Her speed crept up again. It was getting dark now, but it was a familiar road; it felt like she knew every bend, and she swung the car through them in an easy, one-handed
rhythm. There was food in the freezer; she’d stop at the off-licence near her house, buy a bottle of wine. Best get two, one for tomorrow. She really ought to try and make two bottles last
three days.
    The deer jumped gracefully into the beams of her headlights and froze as Fairfield stood on the brakes. Her car snaked towards the animal while her tyres shrieked and Fairfield held her breath.
Then the deer was gone. She released the brake and straightened the car. Damn it, Kat, you never know what’s around the corner . She drove on. Then stomped on the brake again, making
the car squeal to a complete stop while two more deer followed the first one across the road.
    And you never know what the hell is going to happen next.

Chapter Three
    Leigh Woods, first light. McLusky was reluctant to leave the car, which had just begun to warm up a little. It was perishing cold out there. Last night, knowing this cold
moment would come, he had gone through his entire wardrobe, what there was of it, looking for warm things to wear. He appeared to have no winter clothes. He couldn’t understand it. Of course
it had been Laura who, back in Southampton, had packed up all his belongings and dumped them at the section house so he would have no excuse to come back to her flat. Finding them there all boxed
and bagged after he’d left the hospital had been a clear message: no negotiations. And yet. And yet she had moved to Bristol only a couple of months ago to start a course in