"Pete, I've got something I have to tell you."

"What is it baby?"

"I'm pregnant."

"Oh shit!"

...

The Clifton girls' was a particularly nasty case. The team had been on it for the best part of a week, and they had absolutely no leads what so ever. The Clifton's were sisters aged sixteen and nineteen, who'd been walking home after a night out together when they were both murdered in the street leading to their house. Both girls' necks were slit, which was the cause of death, but forensic evidence showed that they had both been beaten and stabbed in other areas before the final cuts. Their bags and purses were taken.
What was the real twisted knife in this particular case was that this night had been the first either had had out for about six months. A year ago, their mother had another baby, which couldn't have been their fathers since he had taken steps to avoid that very event. The marriage had been close to the edge, until one night, their mother just upped and left, leaving her daughters and ex-husband to bring up her son. Although he was struggling with the baby and his wife's betrayal, their dad, Paul Clifton, had decided that as it was the younger of the pair, Alison's birthday, that they should go out and spend the night like most people of their age.
The trouble was, neither of the girls' had had much of a social life since little Zackary was born, plus they were studious types so had few enemies, or friends come to that. The puzzling thing was that when Alison's blood work had come back, they'd found traces of amphetamines in it, but when Gene had 'asked' around his informants, no one had any idea where they'd got it. Alex had a theory that someone may have tried to spike Alisons drink, but there was no evidence to support that.

...

After two hours of pouring over the women's statements, Gene had sent Ray and Chris out to try and find out if anyone else had witnessed the mugging. That left just him, Alex and Shaz in the office. When they finally agreed that there was nothing more to do but to wait for the 'wonder twats' to return, Alex and Gene struck up conversation whilst Shaz read her magazine in the kitchen.

"This is a very nasty case," Gene said, standing across from her, legs apart and hands in pockets. "I'd like to fasten that bastard to the front of the Quattro and drive it into a wall repeatedly. Even the slight destruction of the car would be worth it."

"Those poor girls, and their poor father," Alex replied, leaning against her desk, arms drawn around her in almost a protective manner.

"Yeah, unfortunate sod. Now he has to bring up some other blokes child all on this tod, unless he cans it to the orphanage."

"No, no, he said last time didn't he, about how the house would be too empty without Zachary to bare."

"Yeah, that's what he's saying now, but what about in a months time when he hasn't slept and the moneys running short? An what about when he's older, and the little twerp does something. If it was his own, he'd deal with it, but this is some other bastard-who-had-his-way-with-his-wife's bastard child."

"You don't have a very high opinion of him then."

"Even the most liberal-fairy-fairness-bollocksing twat of us would have trouble. I mean, sometimes parents with their own kids get close to giving them a whollop. My Ma used to say that when I was teething she felt like smothering me."

"That's because teething is horrific. I remember with Molly," here she had a distant look in her eyes, and Gene felt almost warm inside, because here he was getting a rare glimpse into her past which had so far evaded him, almost as if she were letting him in on some secret, "I was up all night most nights. Even when they're quiet, you still can't get the screaming out of your head-"

"Guv, come in." Gene's radio buzzed from his office, and he reluctantly dragged himself to answer it.

"What do you want now?"

"We've got another witness."

"You took your time."

"He was reluctant wasn't he? Gave Chris a knock in the stomach. Still crouching slightly, the fairy. But you'll never guess who it is."

"Go on."

"Wally Goode."

...

Wally Goode was a short man, about four foot eleven, dressed immaculately in a velvet waistcoat, but sporting a black eye and muddy complexion. His quick eyes darted around the interview room, and he kept running a hand through the ginger fuzz that passed for hair.
He managed to smile when Gene entered, but his pale face gave him away. As Alex sat down opposite him, his grin widened.
"I heard you'd got yourself a bit of fancy skirt. Why didn't you send her to get me, would have come a lot quieter then." He leaned across the table towards her, eyebrows raised until Gene kicked the table which sent him backwards into his chair.
"I was hoping I wouldn't be seeing you for a very long time, but since your rodent originated, foul, inbred existence has decided to grace my fine station, I suggest you start talking before I get you acquainted with that wall over there."
"Ahh, Mr Hunt, you know me, I'm not one to talk where there's no… incentive," he said, rubbing his fingers together in clarification. In one swift movement, Gene was around the desk, and had Wally stood up by the scruff of his neck.
"Don't say I didn't warn you. Wall meet scum, scum meet wall," and with that he banged Wally's head against the wall, then let him drop into his seat again. All the while, Alex sat with her eyes closed, until she felt Gene sit down beside her. Then she leant forward.
"Mr Goode, where were you between eight o'clock and eight thirty this morning?"
"I dunno, do I darling. I ain't usually up until I've had time to sober up."
Gene leant forward. "Would you like me to repeat the question?"
"Alright alright I was out getting some fags. That a crime?"
"No, but you being able to afford fags on your lifestyle is."
"Mr Goode-"
"Call me Wally, darling."
"Mr Goode," Alex continued, and Gene started to smirk beside her, "we have reason to believe that you witnessed a mugging on Trevor Street."
"Yeah, I did."
"Then why didn't you come forward, you bastard?"
"Because I didn't see who it was."
"Mr Goode, you are lying. I can tell. When you responded, you didn't look me in the eye, you shifted in your seat and you fidgeted. All classic signs of someone who is hiding the truth."
"You're a clever little bitch aren't you?"
"OI!" The flat of Gene's hand connected with the back of Wally's head, so that he reeled off a string of swear words.
"Why are you so fucking touchy, you slipping her one?" This time, Alex's heel came down on his toe before Gene could even move.
"Now Mr Goode, you are going to tell us everything that you saw," Alex said coolly, whilst Wally gripped his toe in pain and Gene sat there stunned.
"Alright, I saw this bloke snatch the old biddy's handbag, but I didn't see who it were."
"I may not be a clever bitch, but even I know you're lying now," Gene said, having recovered.
"I didn't see the guys face!"
"My mistake, I don't think you fully got to know Wall-"
"I can't tell you, they'll kill me!"
"Only if I haven't first!"
"I've been clean for a month now-"
"Bullshit."
"No, I have. It's for this girl see, we been going steady for a while. If I tell you who it was, they'll kill me, and her too! I got my woman to think about. You understand that, don't you, Mr Hunt?" Wally looked knowingly between the pair. Gene sat there for a minute or two, before replying in barely a whisper.
"Go on then, get out."

...

There was quiet in the interview room for a good few minutes. In that time, Gene could almost feel the anger coming in waves off of Alex.
"What the bloody hell was that about?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You just let him go, just like that."
"So?"
"He was the only bloody lead we've had for a week! Or have you forgotten the two young girls that were murdered? Have you forgotten the 'poor old childless sod'? The Hunt I thought I knew would never have let a witness go like that because you empathise about his woman being threatened-"
"It's not empathy Bolls."
"What do you mean?"
"I'll forgive you because you spent your earlier years in an ivory bloody tower attending Sunday school and saying your prayers. But to those of us that are fluent in Scum, that wasn't bloody empathy."
"Well, maybe you should translate then."
"There is no bloody woman, if there were, one she'd have to have fallen from the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down, but two, he would've been a lot more desperate than that. Which leads me to think that that little anecdote was more than a story." Alex still looked confused, so Gene turned in his seat to face her. "Bolls, that there was not an attempt to gain sympathy, that was a threat."
"To who?"
"To me."
"What the hell has he got on you to be threatening you with…" Her voice trailed off, and she looked him in the eye, disbelief all over her face. He simply nodded. "Me?"

Dun dun duh! Dramatic much? NB, I'm not very familiar with London, so forgive me on this one if the geography is a bit out. Reject ...