‘I promised Marcie I would try this place out,’ said Marsh, as they joined the queue in the garish neon pink-and-yellow interior.

‘Is this to cheer me up? Or are you demonstrating that police budgets aren’t all about austerity?’ asked Erika.

‘My office is at the top of the building. I needed to cool off,’ he said. They reached a young girl in front of a humming yoghurt dispenser and Marsh ordered them each a large. They were handed a paper cup of yoghurt each and moved along to a self-service bar with an array of small dishes containing sweets, fruit and chocolate. Erika watched Marsh as he seriously contemplated the selection and then opted for Gummi Bears. She suppressed a grin, and chose fresh fruit.

‘So, how are you settling in to your new flat?’ asked Marsh once they had found a spot amongst the busy chatter, perched on high stools by a large picture window. Traffic crawled past as the heat shimmered off the melting tarmac. Across the street commuters poured out of the train station.

‘I’ve been there for six months. It’s quiet, which I like,’ replied Erika, spooning the cold yoghurt into her mouth.

‘You’re not thinking of buying in London?’ asked Marsh.

‘I don’t know. I’m starting to feel settled here, and in the job, but prices are crazy. Even a shit-hole round here costs a few hundred grand.’

‘You’re throwing your money away renting, and prices are only going to keep rising, Erika. If you’re going to do it, do it soon. You’ve got your old place up in Manchester, chuck out your tenants and sell it. Get yourself on the property ladder down here.’

‘Are you doling out real estate advice too now, sir?’ grinned Erika.

Marsh didn’t laugh. He shovelled in another spoonful of yoghurt. The multi-coloured Gummi Bears in the cup glistened in the sunlight.

‘I want you to steer clear of Gary Wilmslow,’ he said, abruptly changing the subject.

Erika was surprised. ‘You were there in the incident room, sir. I’m not going to go after him until I have enough evidence.’

‘I’m telling you not to go after him. At all. He is off-limits.’ Marsh tilted his head down and looked at her over the top of his sunglasses.

‘Can I ask why, sir?’

‘No. As your senior officer, I’m telling you.’

‘You know this kind of thing doesn’t work with me. Keep me in the dark and I’ll find the light switch.’

Marsh took another big spoon of yoghurt and rolled it around his mouth for a moment before swallowing. He took off his shades and placed them on the table.

‘Jesus Christ. Okay. Have you heard of Operation Hemslow?’

’No.’

‘Operation Hemslow is focusing on known funders and distributors of child pornography. Gary Wilmslow is heavily involved in a paedophile porn ring, and we’re talking on a big scale: digital distribution through websites, and to a lesser extent the manufacture of DVDs. We’ve had our eye on him for the past eight months, but he’s a slippery bastard. He’s been under round-the-clock surveillance for the past five weeks.’

‘And you need him out in the world, doing his business, so you can catch him doing his business?’

‘Exactly.’

‘But Peter, the nephew! He’s living under the same roof!’

‘It’s okay. We’re pretty sure Wilmslow isn’t involved in the procuring of kids directly for the videos.’

‘You’re pretty sure?’

‘We’re confident.’

‘Jesus,’ said Erika, pushing her yoghurt away.

‘I’m trusting you here, Erika. I’m giving you my confidence.’

‘Okay, okay. But can’t we get Peter out of there, and Penny too?’

‘You know how seriously we take the safeguarding risks in these cases, but we don’t have enough concrete evidence yet to give us grounds to take Peter into care. As I said, we’ve got Gary under round-the-clock surveillance. We’ll know if he takes the kid.’

‘So, because he is under surveillance, you know Gary Wilmslow didn’t kill Gregory Munro?’

’Yeah. His alibi checks out. He was home all night.’

‘And you’re sure that Gregory Munro’s murder is nothing to do with Gary Wilmslow, or Operation Hemslow?’

‘Absolutely. We didn’t even have Gregory Munro on our radar. Now, I expect you to find a way to lead your team in a different direction. If it were my case, I would go down the gay bashing route. Offload it onto one of the Murder Investigation Teams who specialise in sexually motivated murders.’