Darker Shade of Pale

Chapter 1

Posted on Tuesday, 29 June 1999

'Twas a dark and stormy night. And the weather was making it a distinctly unpleasant evening to be out.

The officers of Meryton Police Station, though, didn't have much of a choice. 'B' Relief were the unlucky ones out patrolling that night, and they were a distinctly unhappy bunch.

Inspector Bennet had summed up how they felt when she stopped by to address the team before they left the station. "I know you're all cold and tired, and would rather be in bed. But we've still got a job to do."

After the Inspector had returned to her office, Sergeant Lucas passed on a message from CID. "Keep an eye out for robberies tonight. That last drugs crackdown has sent prices skyrocketing."

"They must be really desperate, if they're out in this!" PC Denny joked.

"Not as desperate as you, mate!" ran the reply from the rest of the relief. Same old routine, same old jokes.

PC Denny was in the area car with PC Benton that night. Underwhelmed by the pouring rain, they had stopped outside the local fish and chip shop, and were sitting in the car munching away. Mike Denny eyed his companion thoughtfully. Lydia Benton had a bit of a reputation around Meryton nick. A fairly reliable constable, if a little flighty, she was
rumoured to have loosened her tie for any number of her fellow officers (although she gallantry refused to tell). But she was always lively company on a dull shift, and Mike was also enjoying puppy-walking the new probationer with her.

The radio gurgled into life. "Attention all units, there has been a reported break-in at Netherfield. Suspects still on premises - 2 IC1 males. Informant a neighbor."

"Papa Papa from Papa Papa six-five-four, we'll deal." Mike grinned at Lydia, and gunned the engine.

"At last we'll get some action!"

Lydia groaned. "But Netherfield again? How many times is that in the last month? It's probably just some junkie."

Netherfield House held the local drugs project, and it was perpetually plagued by addicts looking for cash and a cheap fix. The police had been called out so many times since the place had first opened, Sergeant Lucas had quipped that they should start charging a service fee.

Just as they reached Netherfield, Mike and Lydia noticed a man tearing past on foot, heedless of the pouring rain. Mike jumped out of the car.

"I'll take a look around here, Lyd. You follow him."

"Are you sure?" Lydia asked doubtfully.

Mike nodded. "Just go!"

Lydia roared off in the area car, sirens blazing, while Mike approached the building. Walking up to the dilapidated front door, he noticed the lock had been forced. He entered rather gingerly, and was looking for the light switch when he heard a noise. He froze.

"This is the police," he bellowed. The noise stopped.

PC Denny flicked on the light, and caught sight of a man standing by the window. Then his eyes widened with recognition. "What are you doing here?"

The other man looked at him with regret. "Sorry it had to be you, Mike." He set his face grimly, and pulled out a gun, pointing it towards the stunned policeman.

"What? Why? You don't need to do this..."

Two shots rang out.

Chapter 2

Posted on Tuesday, 29 June 1999

Lydia, in the area car, had lost the man she was pursuing, and was instead trying to raise Mike on the radio. "Papa Papa six-five-four from Papa Papa four-one-two, over. 654 from 412, over! Mike! Are you there?"

No reply. Panicking slightly, she tried to call again. Nothing. Worried, Lydia radioed the station.

"Papa Papa from Papa Papa 412, over. Have you heard from Mike?"

Kit Bartlett, answering the call, was startled. "Lydia? Is that you? I thought Mike was with you at Netherfield?"

Lydia replied tersely, "We split up to pursue a suspect. I'm in the High Street, but I can't raise Mike. Didn't he radio in?"

"No." Kit was worried. PC Christopher Bartlett had only just finished his training, and was spending his probationary period at Meryton. He wasn't quite sure how to cope with the situation. "I'll see who's free to assist."

Just then, Inspector Bennet wandered into the CAD room and asked Kit what was happening. He snapped to attention. Inspector Bennet had that effect on people. But she was also one of the most respected people at the station, scrupulously fair and a very good officer. She was also rather attractive, although Elizabeth would have scoffed at the comment.

"PC Denny's lost radio contact, Ma'am."

The Inspector looked slightly concerned herself. "That's not like Mike," she said. "See who's available and send in some backup. Tell Lydia to get back here - I'll go down and have a look instead. I'll take Sergeant Lucas with me. In this weather, who knows what may have happened."

Surprised, PC Bartlett went to work. He hoped it wasn't only that PC Denny had preferred the comfort of the local curry-house to his rainy patrol. With the Inspector out looking for him, there'd be hell to pay if he was caught.

Inspector Bennet arrived at Netherfield House with Sergeant Lucas soon afterwards. The other patrol car stood waiting, its former occupants poking around with torches, trying to spot some sign of their colleague. The rain had abated somewhat, but it was still damp and very cold.

Upon seeing his superiors, Constable Larkin straightened up. "Evening Ma'am, Sarge," he growled. Mark had the kind of voice that would have put Goliath to shame. But he was actually one of the newer members of the relief, keen to impress. Sergeant Lucas had taken the younger man under his wing a little.

"Mark," he asked, "any sign of PC Denny?"

"Sorry Sarge, no luck. This rain's hell on any footprints. And the feet too." He gestured downwards, where his boots and the lower half of his trousers were almost completely covered in mud.

Inspector Bennet interjected. "Have you tried the House?"

"No Ma'am, we've only just arrived ourselves."

PC Brennan then appeared out of the gloom. "No sign there either," he complained. "He must've gone to see that barmaid he fancied."

PC Brennan was one of life's whiners. He had always been there for the troops when anyone needed support, but he was also an absolutely by-the-book copper, and he strongly disapproved of anything even vaguely creative. A hypochondriac, as well as being an avid reader of medical
journals and potted philosophy, he had tried to avoid any number of tiresome obbos with his imaginary ailments.

Inspector Bennet chuckled silently. Under her official rank she had a well-developed sense of the ridiculous, and a dripping wet Harry Brennan certainly appealed to it. "I'll bet he'll be off for the next week with pneumonia," she muttered to herself.

Elizabeth grimaced as she extracted herself from the mire forming at her feet, and suggested the officers take a look at Netherfield House. Before going in, she checked back at the station one more time.

"Papa Papa from Inspector Bennet. Any news, Kit?"

"No Ma'am, nothing."

"Let me know if you hear anything."

PC Larkin had taken the lead, and he pointed out the forced lock on the front door.

"I see, thank you Mark," Inspector Bennet noted. "Presumably our original burglar."

There was no sound at all in the darkened building. Sergeant Lucas took charge, and turned on the light.

"Mark, Henry, you check upstairs. I'll check the back."

Inspector Bennet was already moving towards the main counseling room, her footsteps sounding loudly as she crunched over broken glass from a shattered windowpane. Then silence.

"Carlos, Mark, Henry, you'd better come here quickly."

The other officers scurried back down to where the Inspector was standing.

"There doesn't seem to be anyone else around, Ma'am," Mark said eagerly.

Elizabeth Bennet laughed hollowly. "Well, someone was here, and not that long ago." She pointed silently to the floor near the broken window.

Mike Denny lay there, dead.

Chapter 3

Posted on Tuesday, 13 July 1999

The murder sent shockwaves throughout the station. The loss of an officer was always tragic, but the death of Mike Denny was a particular blow. Mike had spent his almost his entire career at Meryton nick, and his reliability as an officer, his cheerful (if slightly macho) personality, and his eye for the ladies had combined to make him a very popular man.

Lydia in particular was almost distraught with guilt, and Henry Brennan wasn't doing much in the way of comforting. "Well, you know you did ignore procedure there. You should have radioed in what was happening. If we'd been able to send back up in sooner, Mike might not be dead now."

Lydia almost snarled at him. "Don't you think I haven't thought about that already, you stupid sod?"

Mark Larkin had similar thoughts at the back of his mind. PC Brennan had a knack for putting his foot in it. "Come on Lyd, let's go and get a cup of tea. Inspector Bennet will want to see you soon, when she gets back from Netherfield, and you're due refs soon anyway." He gently steered his shaken colleague towards the warmth of the canteen, while Henry Brennan shuffled off towards the locker room, sneezing and cursing the weather.

Chapter 4

Posted on Tuesday, 13 July 1999

At Netherfield, the first pale streaks of dawn were beginning to lighten the inky sky. The rain had stopped, but it seemed set to be a dark, gloomy day. Just about how everyone standing around the body inside the House was feeling.

Lucas Williams, the FME, was just finishing up his work. "Definitely dead, not too long ago, and probably from a gunshot wound. Anything else will have to wait for the pathologist and the post mortem."

Inspector Bennet nodded. "Thanks Luke, that's about what I'd expected."

Sergeant Lucas spoke up. "A neighbour mentioned hearing several gunshots not long after the time Lydia reported losing radio contact."

Dr Williams had packed his bag and was preparing to leave, when he paused. "You might want to rig up a bit of shelter in here. The way that wind's blowing through that window, any evidence will be long gone before the forensic team gets here."

A slender blond woman appeared from the shadows behind him. "Why thank you Luke, it's not like you to be so considerate. I thought you were a take-the-credit-and-run kind of guy."

Such sparring between the FME and the pathologist was long running and inevitable. It was another one of those light hearted little routines that made their grisly jobs, looking at those who had been brutally injured and murdered, just a little less grim. Besides, they were also good friends. Dr Williams had been around for years, and was looking forward to a quiet retirement back home in his native Yorkshire. The pathologist was younger and keener, but she had learnt a great deal from her older colleague.

Inspector Bennet looked up in surprise. "Jane! I didn't know you were on call tonight!"

Jane Bennet, one of Meryton's resident pathologists, nodded. "I wasn't supposed to be on, but I swapped with Edward. He's been planning this date with Elinor for months, and I didn't have the heart to make him change it. I think he was planning to propose."

Elizabeth smiled at her sister. "You're too nice for your own good."

Jane looked at her wryly. "Mama doesn't think I'm nice. She nearly had a fit when she found out I wanted to do pathology instead of set up as a nice little GP. She said it wasn't lady-like enough, that no man would ever want to marry me."

Elizabeth winced. "Touché. Mama wasn't exactly over the moon at my choice of career either. What did she say? 'A copper? How disgusting!' As I recall, she was looking at a sweet little career as a legal secretary with Philips and Co. When I told her I'd sooner dig ditches than work for that leech Philips, Mama solemnly informed me that she wouldn't be around to look after me in my old age after I'd scared off every potential husband."

Jane chuckled. "Poor old Mama. We weren't exactly the daughters she'd bargained on!"

"Hardly!" Elizabeth laughed. Then her face fell somber as she returned to the situation at hand. "We'd better get on. I'd like to have the body moved before this place gets filled with reporters. A policeman's murder makes for big headlines."

Jane sighed. "We only ever seem to meet at scenes like this, nowadays. Well, what have we got?"

Her sister gave her the details. "One of ours, I'm afraid. Looks like a shooting. He was following up a reported disturbance when we last heard from him."

Jane looked sorrowful. "Lizzy, I'm sorry. I know it's awful losing one of the team."

Dr Bennet bent over the corpse and began her examination. As she worked, the forensic scientists who had accompanied her busied themselves around the room, looking for fingerprints, blood spots, powder residue and anything else that the murderer might have left behind, that could identify him.

Jane straightened up, her job complete for the moment. "Well, that's it. Two bullets to the chest, death was instantaneous. Anything else will have to wait until the PM."

Jane packed her gear up, and hesitated for a moment. "Was that Mike Denny? I thought I saw him at the morgue recently, with that victim whom you had trouble getting his next-of-kin to identify."

Carlos Lucas just looked at her. "I thought you might recognize him. Yes, it's Mike. And now someone has to go round and tell his family that he's dead."

Chapter 5

Posted on Tuesday, 13 July 1999

The next day at Meryton Station proceeded much as usual, except that the events of the night before hung over everybody. The officers of 'B' relief had gone home, to snatch what little rest and comfort they could find; perhaps in sleep, perhaps with each other, perhaps in the bottom of a bottle. The constables on the new shift were looking slightly shaky, and thanking every deity known to man that it hadn't been them.

Senior officers were scurrying around, issuing press releases, dealing with their superiors at Headquarters, trying to juggle duty rosters and organizing the police funeral that would come. Commissioner de Bourgh had already been on the phone, haranguing the station commander for the details, so that she could deliver another of her insincere glowing eulogies for a plebeian she had never met.

The investigation of the murder was already well underway in CID, as Meryton's detectives were grimly determined to bring their colleague's murderer to justice. However, things were becoming increasingly complex. What had seemed a simple drug-related shooting had changed completely with a phone-call from the pathologist.

"CID, DI Gardiner speaking. Hello Jane! You've finished the autopsy already? What have you got for us?"

On the other end of the line, Jane Bennet hesitated. She had checked her findings several times, and was in no doubt as to their accuracy. But they would certainly make life much more difficult for the investigating officers. "Edward. You'll have to wait for my report for the final conclusions, but as it stands...the shooting looks professional. Two shots and down, but the second was only for insurance. And you'll have to wait till ballistics gets back to you, but the bullets look like they were fired from a service revolver."

Edward Gardiner was stunned. "Are you sure? No, don't answer that, you wouldn't have told me if you weren't. Dammit, not a bent copper. That's the worst type of criminal."

Jane could offer little reassurance. "It looks that way. The crime scene bunch will talk to you separately, but the SOCOs found absolutely nothing. Either it's someone with a phenomenal knowledge of forensics, who just happens to own the same type of gun as a police officer licensed to carry a weapon, or..."

The DI grunted. "Not very likely for a desperate junkie, I'm afraid. Thanks Jane. You do realise what a mess you've made my life now, don't you?"

It was not a question which required an answer. Jane said her good-byes and rang off, returning to the masses of official paperwork on her desk. DI Gardiner hung up, and sat at his desk thinking. At length, he roused himself and went to talk to his boss.

Chapter 6

Posted on Tuesday, 13 July 1999

"So Edward, it looks like that. What do you suggest we do?"

Edward Gardiner glanced at his DCI. Richard Fitzwilliam was a very good officer, perhaps even brilliant. Although he was on accelerated promotion as a graduate, all of his team had a great deal of respect for his abilities, and the man himself. But he was notoriously reluctant to call in outside help.

"Well, guv, there isn't anywhere near enough evidence to call in CIB. They don't deal with nameless allegations of corruption. But we're undermanned here as it is, especially since we made that drugs crackdown a priority. I simply don't have the manpower to investigate this murder properly, especially since..."

"I'm going off on that training course in two days." Richard finished the sentence for him. "Appalling timing, isn't it? I suppose you're thinking of getting some extra help?"

Edward nodded. "I could try and squeeze some extra bodies out of uniform on secondment, but the shifts change tomorrow and then 'B' Relief is on days. Inspector Bennet doesn't really like losing officers to CID, and she'll be a man short anyway, until they get a replacement in."

Richard reluctantly agreed. "Headquarters is making a new officer a priority, but it'll take time. And I really don't think we should put the hard word on Elizabeth at the moment. She's got enough problems on that Relief now without half of them being sent up here."

Edward grimaced. "That really means we'll have to get another bunch to investigate it. I don't like seeing this one get off our patch, but we haven't got a lot of choice. I suppose it will have to be the Murder Squad."

DCI Fitzwilliam looked thoughtful. "Maybe not. If you focus on the drugs op, that'll free up a few detective constables for a bit of legwork. Then we'd only need to pull in a couple of people to do the main investigation. Another sergeant and an inspector should do nicely."

Edward looked surprised. It was unorthodox, but it meant minimum disruption to the team, and it also meant he'd be able to keep an eye on what was happening. "Interesting idea. Who are you looking at? That pair from the Regional Crime Squad?"

Richard shook his head. "It's one of our own, and there's a bent copper involved. I want this sorted quickly, quietly and properly. No cutting corners and leaning too hard on local snouts while you look for revenge. This has to stick."

Edward looked intrigued. "Calling in the big boys, then?"

DCI Fitzwilliam raised an eyebrow. "Special Squad? I suppose you could look at it like that. But they've got the reputation, and they should be able to do the job. It'll keep the commissioner quiet as well. She's already bent my ear twice today. She wanted to know why we didn't have the culprit in custody and awaiting trial already."

DI Gardiner got up and prepared to leave. "Anyway, at least this way Lady Cat can bother the Specs' instead of us. How that woman ever became commissioner..." He was chuckling as he walked out the door.

Richard Fitzwilliam had a half-smile on his face as he watched his DI leave. Lady Catherine de Bourgh was his aunt, a relationship widely known, and equally widely laughed at.
Anyone who had ever worked with Fitzwilliam knew his abilities too well to believe him capable of any sort of nepotism. In fact, he had been dismayed by his arrogant aunt's promotion, angrily believing that her position reflected her title, and not any sort of policing skill. She looked down on anyone below the rank of Inspector, and she made her dislike of all uniformed officers well known. (She had risen through the ranks as a detective, sleeping with each of her commanding officers along the way.) The newspapers loved her, but in private the troops despised her. Richard Fitzwilliam wanted any further advancement to be entirely due to his own merit, and had cut off nearly all contact. So had his cousin.

The thought of his cousin reminded him of the task at hand. DCI Fitzwilliam did dislike calling in outside assistance, but the situation required it. He wondered idly what Inspector Bennet would think when the other detectives turned up. He'd had a few fiery confrontations with Elizabeth since his arrival at Meryton, and he knew that she was even more reluctant to let things go beyond the station than he was. Having her officer's murder investigated by outsiders would infuriate her. But needs must.

He picked up the telephone. "Could you please put me through to the Special Squad."

"Hello, Special Squad. DS Bingley speaking."

"Hello, this is DCI Richard Fitzwilliam from Meryton Station in Derbyshire. I'd like to speak to DI William Darcy, please. It's urgent."

Chapter 7

Posted on Tuesday, 28 September 1999

DI = detective Inspector
DS = Detective sergeant
DCI = detective chief inspector
CAD room = radio room.

The Chief Superintendent is in overall charge of the station. Refs is refreshment break.

It was the first day of the new duty roster, and "B" relief was working days. Lydia Benton was working the front desk at Meryton police station. Sergeant Lucas had insisted, and Lydia had been in no position to disagree. Normally she hated front office duty, much preferring the action on the streets. But in truth she was rather relieved to be secure within the confines of the station. PC Denny's death had shaken her more than she had cared to acknowledge, and she was somewhat reluctant to go straight back out on patrol. She muttered a swift word of thanks to Sergeant Lucas under her breath, grateful that he had somehow managed to swing the position for her, unaware that it had really been brought about by Inspector Bennet.

She had grabbed Sgt. Lucas just before morning parade. "Morning Carlos. How are you?"

He did no attempt to misunderstand the question. "OK, I suppose. We've just got to get on with things. I can't believe he's gone. We were at Hendon together. We'd drifted apart, but still..."

"It's hard for all of us. No one likes losing an officer - or a friend. But I just wanted to ask you, what have you done about officer allocations for today?"

Carlos nodded. "We're a bit undermanned until we get a replacement for Mike. There's rather a shortage of drivers today. PC Brennan's off with the flu. But I could put Lydia back into an area car to cover for him."

Elizabeth groaned. "Why am I not surprised? PC Hypochondriac strikes again! But I'd rather you didn't put Lydia back on patrol so soon. I'm not convinced that she's fully come to terms with things yet, and I'd rather not have a loose cannon out there. Perhaps you could take Mark Larkin off foot patrol and put him in the car. Lydia can cover the front desk, and I'll pick up the slack in the CAD room. It won't hurt my paperwork to be left alone for a day - it'll just breed more anyway."

Sgt. Lucas jotted everything down on his clipboard. "Is that all, Ma'am?"

Inspector Bennet looked thoughtful. "More or less. The replacement for Mike should be arriving later today. I called in a few favours at Area, and they're sending someone pronto. I just hope he can fit straight in. We really can't afford tension on the team right now."

Carlos grimaced. "That is definitely something I could do without. I don't want a rehash of the Willoughby affair." PC John Willoughby had sexually harassed several of the female officers on the relief before Chief Superintendent Brandon had found out and investigated the matter. Willoughby had been dismissed from the force instantly, but it had taken months for the trust between all the officers to be built back up.

"I know what you mean." Inspector Bennet began walking down the corridor towards the radio room, when she stopped called back down to her sergeant. "Oh, Carlos, I almost forgot. The Chief Super wants to come down and say a few words to the troops at parade. Try and keep the snide remarks to a minimum."

Sgt. Lucas chuckled as he hurried off. Chief Superintendent Christopher Brandon was much respected among the uniformed troops. He ran the station with an iron fist, but he was always fair, and never let political and policy decisions get in the way of good policing. He was a copper first and foremost, one who had never lost touch with the working officers on the street while he himself had risen through the ranks. However, it was a truth universally acknowledged that senior officers would always be the butt of junior officers' jokes.

Lydia was leaning comfortably up against the front counter, chatting idly with Mark Larkin, who had just come in for his refs' break. Mark was trying to cheer up his rather pensive colleague, by repeating a story about Miss Tess, who lived on the nearby Trantridge poultry farm. Apparently the police had been called out to a disturbance, and had discovered the rather eccentric Miss Tess standing in the middle of the road in her night-gown, screaming at the top of her lungs and surrounded by chickens. A local boy had opened the gate as a practical joke, and the chickens had completely blocked the highway in both directions. He had the satisfaction of hearing her laugh, a laugh that was quickly stifled.

Mark shook her head. "It's not wrong to be happy Lyd. And god knows it's not your fault. The only fault lies with the scumbag who shot him."

Lydia sighed. "I know that, Mark. It's just that I keep thinking..."

Mark grunted. "Don't. Think about something else instead. How about those two blokes who've just come in the door? I'm not much of a judge, but I'd say they look pretty gorgeous."

Lydia spun around, unable to resist the temptation to glance at any male, attractive or not. But Mark had been right. The two men were gorgeous. The shorter of the two was wonderfully lean and had a cheery, pleasing face. He walked up to Lydia and smiled a greeting, "Hello there. How are you today?" His accent was broad cockney, instantly creating an air of friendliness.

Mark chuckled, as Lydia beamed back at the unknown man. "I'm very well, thank you. What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

Just then the other man came to the fore. He was taller than his companion was, and more muscular. His features were dark and brooding, a legacy of his Jamaican mother. He looked stunning, but somehow unapproachable. His appearance gave hints of a nature far less friendly than that of his companion, who looked as if he could charm the birds from the trees. He looked disapprovingly at the others chatting around the counter. "We're not here to gossip, Charles. We've got work to do."

Charles didn't look the least bit abashed. "Always so terse, guv?" he asked. When his colleague failed to answer he went on. "I'm DS Bingley, my tall friend here is DI Darcy. We'd like to see DCI Fitzwilliam, please. He's expecting us."

Lydia and Mark exchanged interested glances. But their speculations were rudely interrupted by DI Darcy. "Now please, we don't have all day." His voice was marked by the lyrical cadences of the Caribbean, yet he somehow managed to make them sound more like the tones of an angry sergeant major, reprimanding his troops for failing to keep their shoes shiny.

PC Larkin raised an eyebrow and went off to the canteen to get a cup of tea and to spread the gossip - that two strange detectives had arrived in Meryton - and that their manner and bearing (not to mention their suits, which bore the mark of Saville Row), suggested they were from one of the elite London squads. But no one had any idea why they had come. PC Kit Bartlett sighed and refused to speculate. As a probationer, he was used to being in the dark. When asked for his opinion, he muttered sardonically, "Ours is not to reason why."

Meanwhile, Lydia had rung DCI Fitzwilliam, who had proceeded to come down from his office to greet the two men. All three men then went off in the direction of the conference room. While walking back through the station's winding corridors, they bumped into Inspector Bennet. She looked surprised to see the strangers.

"Hello Sir" she greeted the DCI. "What's up?"

DI Darcy didn't stop walking. "I'm afraid that's not any of your concern, Ma'am." Richard Fitzwilliam looked apologetically at Elizabeth, but kept on going. The murder investigation was more immediately important than soothing his colleague's ruffled feathers.

But Elizabeth was furious. She went down to the front office to see if Lydia knew anything more about the intrusion. PC Benton was happy to oblige, but her information was fairly sketchy.

"Well Ma'am, the shorter man is DS Charles Bingley, the taller is DI William Darcy. They had an appointment to see DCI Fitzwilliam. I believe they're from one of the London Squads, ma'am."

Inspector Bennet scowled. She did not like being left in the dark, and she was determined to get some answers soon. She was also determined to have some words with the arrogant DI Darcy. Very soon.

Chapter 8

Posted on Tuesday, 28 September 1999

The meeting in the conference room was already underway. DI Darcy and DS Bingley were sitting around the table, listening intently. DCI Fitzwilliam stood somberly in the corner, going over the facts of the case.

"Basically, this is what we have. An area car was called to a disturbance at Netherfield House - the local drugs project. One of the officers, PC Michael Denny, went inside to have a look around, while the other, PC Lydia Benton, headed off in the direction of the High Street to pursue a suspect."

DS Bingley interjected. "Have we got a description of him?"

Richard shook his head. "Afraid not. It was dark and rainy. A white male, between five and six feet tall. Could be anyone."

DI Darcy raised an eyebrow. "Not quite anyone", the Jamaican officer said dryly.

DCI Fitzwilliam acknowledged his slip. "True. But anyway, PC Denny entered the building, and a neighbour reported hearing two shots. Meanwhile, PC Benton had lost her suspect. However, she was unabl...