‘Why did you have her number?’

‘It was on a bit of paper on one of the desks in the office.’

‘You got curious, so you called the mystery number?’

‘That’s it.’

Tony Kaye was shaking his head slowly, making evident his disbelief.

‘So you deny telling her to…’ Fox glanced at his notes again, ‘“back the fuck off”?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you spend time with Carter when the two of you were off duty?’

‘Few beers now and then.’

‘And clubs… away days to Edinburgh and Glasgow.’

‘It’s no secret.’

‘That’s right. It all came out in court.’

Scholes snorted. ‘Cops stick together and like a drink now and then – hold the front page.’

‘Carter was a DC, you’re a DI.’

‘So?’

‘So he’d never been promoted. Lowest rank in CID, and he’d been a cop as long as you.’

‘Not everybody wants promotion.’

‘Not everybody merits it,’ Fox stated. ‘Which was it with Paul Carter?’

Scholes was opening his mouth to answer when the interview room door opened. There was a uniformed woman there.

‘Sorry to interrupt,’ she said, not looking sorry at all. ‘Thought I’d better say hello.’ She saw that Naysmith was switching off the recorders. Reaching the desk, she introduced herself as Superintendent Isabel Pitkethly. Fox stood up with a certain reluctance and offered his hand for her to shake.

‘Inspector Malcolm Fox,’ he stated.

‘Everything all right?’ Pitkethly looked around the room. ‘Got everything you need?’

‘We’re fine.’

She was almost a foot shorter than Fox but much the same age – early forties. Collar-length brown hair, blue eyes glinting behind her spectacles. She wore a regulation white blouse with epaulettes at the shoulders. Dark skirt falling to just above her knees.

‘Ray behaving himself?’ She gave a nervous laugh, and Fox could see that the past few weeks had left their mark on her. She probably saw herself as captain of a tight ship, and now the structure had been damaged from within.