The HR department were never happy to see someone from the Complaints. HR – Human Resources – used to be Personnel, a term Fox preferred. HR, meantime, would have preferred it if officers like him couldn’t come swanning in as if they owned the place. HR felt prickly, and with good reason. They had to provide open access, access denied to practically anyone else. McEwan had called ahead to let them know Fox was on his way. He’d then typed and signed a letter verifying Fox’s need to see the records. No names were mentioned, and this was what riled some of the HR staff – the assumption being that they couldn’t be trusted with the information. If they knew who the Complaints had their eye on, they might pass the information along, crippling any inquiry at its very start. It had happened once in the past – over a decade back – since when the rules had been changed so that the Complaints had total privacy when they did their search. To this end, the head of HR had to vacate her private room, so that Fox could use it. She had to log on to her computer, then leave it available for his use. She had to hand him the keys to the many filing cabinets in the main open-plan office. Then she had to stand with arms folded, fuming, eyes averted as he went about his business.

Fox had been through the procedure many times, and had tried at the start to be cordial, apologetic even. But Mrs Stephens was not to be placated, so he’d given up. She still took some pleasure in delaying him and his ilk, reading the Chief Inspector’s notification with the greatest care and attention, sometimes even phoning McEwan back to double-check. Then she would ask for Fox’s warrant card and note his details on a form, which he had to sign. She would then check his signature against the one on his ID, exhale noisily, and hand over the keys, her computer, her desk and her office.