Hadi and Barbara exited Harrods and out into the fading afternoon. "What next?" the little girl asked, a smudge of chocolate at the corner of her mouth.

"Next?" Barbara laughed and juggled the shopping bags to one arm. With her free hand, she guided Hadi towards the car park. "What do you mean, 'next'? I'm done in!"

"Just one more?"

"Oh, no. It's getting late and…" Barbara stopped short and looked up.

Lynley looked down with surprise. "Hello."

"Hello," she responded. For a moment she felt like the world had paused. Then she noticed that there was a sleek brunette in a fitted cashmere coat hooked onto the crook of Lynley's arm.

"Caro, this is DS Havers and her friend… Hadi, is it?"

Hadi nodded and hung on to Barbara's hand.

"Havers, this is Carolyn Lindley."

"It's nice to meet you," the other woman flashed a million-Euro smile. She looked at the bags and raised an eyebrow. "Holiday Shopping?"

No, rollerblading, Barbara thought with a rush of irritation. "Yeah. Well…" She looked up at the darkening sky. "We best get back. Nice to meet you, too."

"Yes. See you later, then," Lynley flashed a quick, stiff smile.

She nodded and moved with Hadi down the sidewalk. Sparing a quick glance behind her, Barbara was startled to see Tommy's dark eyes locking onto hers. With a furrowed brow, he turned away first.

Her mobile rang with his number just a few hours later. "Thames River, near the base of Albert Bridge," he said without preamble.

"In the water?" she asked, already up and tugging her coat off the hook.

"No," Tommy answered, "The mud."

"I'm on my way."

She was glad of the warning – the muck was past the ankles of her wellies as she picked her way past the bright houseboats towards the thick cement pylons anchoring the bridge.

"Dead about 4 to 6 hours. Nothing so far to counter-indicate drowning." Lafferty smiled a greeting to Barbara over his gruesome task.

"Drowned, in the mud you mean?" Barbara looked at the victim, sprawled faced down.

"It happens. Last year we had a woman who passed out eating breakfast and drowned in her bowl of Weetabix."

Tommy winced, and then squatted down to inspect the placement of the hands. "He was climbing up the embankment when he died?"

Barbara bent down and looked, as well. "Climbing but not able to lift his head?"

"Someone was holding it down? From behind, here…"

"No footprints, no tracks," Barbara used her torch to inspect the ground.

"It was sleeting pretty hard, earlier," Tommy reminded her.

"Or maybe he was drugged, or having an M.I.? I dunno, that's a mystery for the lab," Lafferty shrugged, pulling off his gloves and grabbing his helmet.

Barbara shook her head at him. "Tomato pesto," she warned.

"Responsible mileage," he quipped, heading up the hill.

"I.D.?" Barbara asked.

Lynley was looking through the deceased's wallet. "I had already recognized him, actually. Geoffrey Lawford – Stephen Lawford's brother."

"Brother?"

"Half-brother from the father's first marriage. Ran a sporting goods company in Sydney; flew home for the funeral. I met him briefly during the inquiry."

Both their boots made "squishing" noises as they moved up to the entrance of the bridge, which was closed for repairs. "Careful, Guv," a PC warned as he held up the barrier for them.

She raised a hand in acknowledgement as they moved to the edge of the bridge and looked around. The elegant white spires atop the suspension cables and the railings were lit, making it hard to see into the dark where the body was found.

"Maybe he was dumped, made it as far as…?"

"His clothing was wet, certainly. But I'm not sure it was soaked through."

"What possible reason could he have to be here?"

"Good question," Tommy agreed as he began leading the way back to their cars. When he briefly touched his fingers against the small of her back as they negotiated the path back around the embankment, she stiffened up.

With a sigh, Tommy dropped his arm.

It was nearly 3 in the morning when they finally tracked down the victim's next of kin – a daughter. Or, rather, the next of kin found them.

Cressida Lawford had been enjoying London's nightclub scene and ignoring the police calls to her mobile. When she arrived back at the Lawford house in a taxi to discover Lynley and Havers methodically sifting through the rooms, she immediately let out a screeching wail that was half outrage and half fearful hysteria.

Her drunken state did not lend itself to being comforted. The Family Liaison Officer sat with her for nearly quarter an hour before she was calmed enough to talk.

Cressida proved spectacularly unhelpful with providing any information about her father. She'd barely known her uncle and the trip to London for the funeral was, to her mind, an excuse for a wild vacation.

"What were the plans for you and your father to go home?" Lynley asked, perched on a wingback chair across from the grieving daughter.

"Plans?" she echoed.

"Was your return flight booked?"

"Like, paid for?"

"No. I mean, did you know the date you were due to go back to Sydney."

"I'm on my gap year. I told you."

Barbara cut in before Tommy's temper could completely unhinge. "Miss Lawford, do you have any other family you'd like us to contact?" She enquired, stepping forward from behind Lynley's chair.

"My mum's back in Sydney; she and dad have been divorced for ages. And there's some kind of cousin somewhere."

"Here? In London?"

"…Sherwood Forest, I think," she sniffed. "That's what dad called him; Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest."

"Right," Barbara closed her notebook and gave the girl a weary smile. "Thank you for your time, Miss Lawford. We're very sorry for your loss."

The pair made their escape back out to the hall. "Robin Hood?" he repeated, slightly incredulous.

"Gap year," Havers responded, shaking her head.

XXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Julian Robert Lawford-Jones," Winston Nkata informed them with triumph the next morning. "And she was almost right – he's a ranger at Sherwood Forest. There's a Lawford family manor in Nottinghamshire, but he's registered as living in Edwinstowe." He handed over some printouts to Lynley, who scanned them quickly.

"Does he know?"

"Informed about an hour ago," Winnie answered.

"Right," Tommy stood and gathered his things. "Ready, Havers?"

"Ready," Barbara agreed, quickly following him.

A few hours later, Lynley pulled the Bristol onto the gravel drive of Kingship Manor. The front door of the stately Edwardian manor house was flanked by two white pillars. A thin man leaned against one nonchalantly while he finished his cigarette.

"Mr. Lawford-Jones?"

"Aye," he stubbed out the cigarette and pocketed the butt before stepping forward to shake their hands. The green collar of his uniform shirt peeked through his coat as he led Lynley and Havers up the steps and into the foyer of the house.

"This is beautifully maintained," Tommy looked around in appreciation.

"Used as a bed and breakfast during the season," Robert explained. "But the family has always had Christmas here." He paused and went a little pale, as if realizing for the first time how little family he had left.

He explained that he hadn't seen Geoffrey since he'd moved to Australia. "Never met the daughter, neither, before she called this morning."

"She's phoned you?"

"Yeah. Looking for money, believe it or not." Robert's lips went tight.

"Is she due to inherit?"

"Kingship, you mean? In a manner of speaking, I guess. There's a family trust that administers the house and the lands. She'll have use of it same as the rest of us but there's no money. The Bed and Breakfast is barely profitable enough to pay for Marti. The interest on the trust pays maintenance or gets rolled back in."

They trio walked the rooms, looking around. Robert talked a bit more about his family, the manor's history, and the trust before checking his watch and ushering them out.

"We appreciate the tour," Tommy told him as they made their way back to the car. "It's a remarkable home."

"You should see it in the summer," Robert looked back at the landscape with affection. "Call if you have any more questions."

"We will," Barbara assured him.

Lynley pulled the car out of the drive and pointed them in the direction of downtown Nottingham. At his request, Barbara called Cheryl Lawford, Stephen's widow, and set up an appointment. After separating from her husband, she'd settled a few towns over from Nottinghamshire.

The sleepless night and long morning caught up with Barbara, who was about ready to doze off when she felt the Bristol stop. They were outside a small café.

"We've got an hour before we meet the widow, and I need something to eat and a carafe of coffee," Tommy announced.

Soon they were seated in a small booth by the window, waiting for the daily specials. Barbara looked up at the darkening sky. "Is it supposed to sleet again, do you know?"

"Snow, is what they said," he took a sip from his coffee and grimaced. Bitter.

"White Christmas," she mused.

"Any plans?" he asked. "For Christmas, I mean."

She'd known what he meant. And he knew she never really did have plans. "You'll be at Howenstow," Barbara put the question back on him.

"You should come with me," Tommy surprised himself by suggesting.

"It's family," she scoffed.

"Nonsense. My mother would be…" he was about to say 'delighted' but stopped himself just in time.

Barbara gave him a steady look, as though daring him to be honest instead of polite. She had almost elfin features, sometimes. High cheekbones, pointed chin, wide green eyes. No one who didn't know her would call her beautiful, but as she grew older Tommy decided Barbara had grown into her features. There was something arresting about her smile; about the curl of her hair down her neck.

"You're doing it again," she chided, pulling her hand up to tuck a wayward strand behind her ear self-consciously. "Stop."

"You're good company," Tommy realized.

"I'm not," she argued. "I'm alone too much to be any good at it."

She had a point. Most of the women he was attracted to were a whole package – attractive, pulled-together, intelligent, and witty. Barbara, on the other hand, was defensive, blunt, stubborn, and sarcastic. But she had something that no other woman had – his trust.

Tommy swallowed back a wave of disorientation and made the internal decision to call Caro once they got back to town. Spend some more time with her.

The waitress pushed their plates in front of them. "What do you think of Cressida calling for money?" Barbara asked between bites.

"I'm surprised she was awake and sober at any point this morning," he admitted. "But I'm not shocked she asked a virtual stranger for cash. She didn't seem to be too attached to the niceties."

After lunch, they found the Stephen's widow's house with a few minutes to spare. She was in a grey twinset and pearls; her solicitor at her elbow ready to monitor the interview.

"I've heard about Geoff from Robert. Terrible thing."

"How well did you know your brother-in-law, Mrs. Lawford?"

"Hardly at all. I only met him once; a trip to Australia we all took the Easter after we were married. The brothers were not close."

Barbara nodded as she took notes. "Had you met Cressida?"

"Her highness?" the woman pursed her lips in obvious disapproval. "She was obviously the pampered pet, but they'd ruined her. Several times while we were there, money went missing from my purse. And I'm sure I smelled alcohol on her breath - she was barely 14, I think. But Stephen refused to rock the boat so I never said anything."

Lynley pushed for details about the family trust and the brothers' monetary situation but the solicitor cut him short at every try. After a fruitless hour, Barbara and Tommy were back in the car and headed towards London.

It began to snow while they were pulled over at a petrol station, filling up. Lafferty had just called with details from the P.M. when Lynley got back into the car, rubbing his numb hands together.

"It was either murder or stupidity," the pathologist announced over the speaker. "He had at least double the usual dose of sildenafil in his system. Mixed with the medicine for his heart condition, it was a sure recipe for a massive coronary – which is exactly what happened. There's a little foam in the lungs, which indicates that he did suffocate a bit in that mud - but it was the M.I. that caused his death."

"Sildenafil? You mean…"

"You know it as Viagra," Lafferty confirmed.

"If he had a heart condition, what doctor would give him a prescription for that?"

"Good question. There's no record of one and no bottle listed in inventory. But with the time difference, it will be tomorrow before we can ask his doctor in Sydney directly."

"Double the dose?" Barbara asked.

"Plus another undigested tablet still in his stomach."

"Any signs of sexual activity?"

"And there it gets even stranger. Traces of spermicidal agent like those found in condoms, but no indications of ejaculation."

"Coitus interruptus?"

"Finding that out would be your job, not mine," they could hear his shrug all the way from London.

They rang Winston next. "So we're looking for Geoffrey's date," Lynley told him, summing up Lafferty's report.

"We might have a lead," Nkata replied. "Lawford's carrier just sent over the list of his last calls. A couple of local numbers and one with a Midlands prefix, unregistered mobile."

"Track it down."

"Will do, Guv."

Tommy fastened his seatbelt and turned the car back on the road out of Mansfield towards the M1. It was a narrow highway with barriers on both side and as the weather began to worsen, he felt the car fishtail a bit in the turns.

"Maybe we should pull over at the next town," Barbara leaned forward to look up at the sky. All she saw was falling snow.

Lynley nodded and kept his full attention on the worsening road. There was open countryside on either side of them; farms and forest with no lights in sight. A few miles later, just as Tommy's hands began to cramp from exertion, there was the welcome glow of sign for an Inn.

Inside the aging white farmhouse, they found an antique bar with a few patrons and a small dining area with a handful of empty tables.

"What can we do for you?" the bartender called.

"Do you have accommodation available?"

"Caught in the weather?" the cheery man clucked. "Let me get my wife and see what we've got."

The Inn boasted 5 rooms, with 2 left available. After a quick supper, Tommy followed Barbara up the narrow stairway to the top floor. The tiny single rooms were tucked under the eaves with a bathroom between.

"It'll do fine," Lynley smiled to the woman, accepting towels and a tiny bag of toiletries. "Thank you."

Havers rubbed her arms as she looked around the chilly room. A few moments later, Lynley knocked on her door. "Fancy a nightcap?"

With a grateful nod, she followed him back down the stairs. Tommy carried two glasses over from the bar and they curled up on a sofa in front of the electric fire.

"Thoughts?" she asked, taking a sip.

"It's all a lot of coincidence with no real evidence of murder," he answered.

Barbara nodded her agreement. Starting from the beginning, they walked through everything they knew. Lynley fetched a second round for them as they puzzled Geoffrey's Viagra use. He watched her shiny cheeks pink up and smiled.

"What?" Barbara demanded.

"Nothing," he dismissed. He looked down at where their knees were almost touching. An almost overwhelming impulse to put his hand on her leg surprised him and he pulled back suddenly.

"Really, what?" she asked again, her eyes watching him narrowly.

He watched her right back. "I just realized something. You haven't called me 'sir' in days. You haven't called me anything, come to think of it."

"I'm sure you're mistaken," she flashed a small smile before taking another sip.

"I'm not." He kept his gaze on her, not letting Barbara look away. "Say something, Barbara," he urged.

"Like what, exactly?"

"Something that matters," he ordered bluntly. He felt his heartbeat race a little with the audacity of it.

Barbara wanted to make some kind of joke and change the subject, but her nature was far too honest. "All right, how's this - " she exhaled, putting her drink down on the table. "The other week, at Howenstow, when I told you my decision about the job had nothing to do with you. I was wrong. I realized it later. Truth is… well, the truth is…" she stumbled, unable to put into words the thoughts crowding her mind. "I told you I was no good at this," she confessed.

"Then let me help?" Fighting to control a sudden tremor, he reached out and touched her hand where it lay on her leg. Squeezed gently. "When Helen and I were separated, there was a night…"

"I remember," she said, her voice a little hoarse.

"You talked about a reason to get up in the morning."

"The job."

"It's more than that. I realized it long before, when you wanted to resign. It's our partnership on the job. Us."

She stared back at him for a long moment. "Yes."

"Yes," he echoed.

"So you understand why I'd want to keep it the way it is." She slipped her hand out from underneath his and reached out for her glass again.

"Would it be such a disaster?"

She coughed as her drink went down the wrong way. Alarmed Tommy leaned forward but Barbara shook her head. "I'm all right."

"I hadn't realized that the thought of me was so ridiculous."

Barbara sucked in a breath. "It's not. That's not…"

"I'm joking," the corner of his mouth twitched. At the end of the day, he was aware of his assets. Even if his partner thought of them as impediments, being the contrary woman she was.

Their eyes caught again and Barbara remembered a time when she'd had to fight, every day, to keep her feelings from him from showing. But over time, she'd seen the bad and the good of him and come to accept him as a real partner – senior in rank, but equal in importance.

"Now you're the one doing the staring," he pointed out, pulling his hand off her knee to rest on the back of the sofa between them.

"Ahem," they jumped as the innkeeper cleared his throat loudly. "I'm closing a little early, what with the weather and all. Will you two need a last call?"

"Um, no. Thank you," Lynley took a deep breath. He'd forgotten the man was even in the room.

She yawned as she watched the older man lock up and wave good night to them. "I think I'll head up, as well."

"Right," he acquiesced.

Barbara pushed away from the sofa and headed up the stairs. Tommy finished his drink with a gulp and then carried the glasses back to the bar. When he reached the top of the stairs, he saw Barbara standing on the landing.

"You all right?"

She chaffed her hands against the chill. "No heat." Her breath came out slightly foggy.

Tommy stepped past into her bedroom and began fiddling with the heat controls. When the knob fell off into his hand, he groaned.

"Well done," she teased.

With a dark look, he moved to his own room where he had more luck. The orange glow gave off a little warmth and she sat on his bed, holding out her hands. "I'll fetch the innkeeper as soon as I defrost."

"I'll do it," Lynley sat beside her. "Barbara, look - if it's one thing I've learned lately; don't make decisions out of fear."

"Begging your pardon, but I've got a little more to lose than you do."

There was no arguing her logic. Tommy saw it just as clear-eyed as she did. Emotionally and professionally, he could survive almost anything. But Barbara? What did she have to fall back on?

He hated being alone. Barbara was like Helen had been – true and honest and someone that made him feel good about who he really was, not just the image people liked to put on him. But did he want her? Enough to risk so much?

Exhaustion began to push down on him and Tommy surrendered. They didn't have to solve everything in a single snowy night. "Barbara," he touched her arm, gently. "You're right. It's late."

She looked down at her feet. Then, deliberately, she kicked off her shoes – one after the other. Without looking at him, she lay down on the bed and curled up as close to the edge as she could get.

Tommy stood up and closed the bedroom door. Then he stretched out beside her before shaking out the blanket over the both of them.

"Good night…sir," her voice was almost a whisper.

He reached over and turned off the light. "Good night, Barbara," he answered softly, closing his eyes. "Sweet dreams."