The rush hour traffic was not good for Harriet Makepeace, she was crawling inextricably towards that junction. A left turn would take her away out towards the west and onto the Campbell brothers, to keep straight ahead would bring her back to the M11 and to turn right… well that would take her back in time. Out of some long lost habitual movement she had already filtered into the right hand turn lane; she could indicate and return to the main body of traffic but Harry was acting rather as someone possessed and despite whether she did or did not wish to turn right she knew that in three minutes time she would be outside her marital home.


Dave took the lead in interviewing the Campbell brothers. They had been quite impressed to be questioned by SI10 and treated the whole thing rather like an adventure.

The two men readily confirmed that they had made their fortune by astute investments in oil and trade in Abu Dhabi but doubted they knew anything that the police would be interested in.
Dave explained how the trail he'd picked up led back to Coutts Bank and there was evidence of transactions ending up in bank account of an Al Hussein. He did not expect the out burst that came from Joseph "Wouldn't surprise me if that was old Middleton and Makepeace"

Both Dave and Mac were stunned

"Why do you suggest those two names?" Dave probed cautiously

The younger brother noted the startled faces "Ooh did I score a direct hit?" he asked with obvious delight

"We are not at liberty to discuss the information" Dave parroted feeling a nauseous squirm rising from his gut

"We are just gathering the wider picture" Mac added still feeling the aftershocks of the bolt jolting through him

"Well Makepeace always wanted to get in on the scene but didn't have the money in those first few years after university..." Joseph started to explain

"Yes always highly opinionated when we went on those rallies and those debates" Albert joined in "and of course Middleton persuaded to you to pave his way into his Arab bank account"

Joseph was really quite excited now "Oh yes that would have been about 83" he turned to explain to Dave "To open an account with the ACDB you have to be recommended and I acted as guarantor" Joseph threw his hands up to his mouth "oh I hope they don't think I had anything to do with any skulduggery "

"Why would either of them have any interest in the Middle East?" Mac addressed both brothers

Albert shook his head "I have no idea but rest assured knowing those two as well, and for as long, as we have it won't be for altruistic reasons much more likely to do with financial reward"

Mac thanked the brothers for their time and information and checked when they would be able to make statements if required.


Dempsey kicked around the office, this wasn't where he wanted to be. He should be out there with Harry - why didn't she want him there? The past was the past and he was only interested in the future and he'd been imagining that quite a bit in the past few weeks. Even six months ago such thoughts had never crossed his mind; other people got hitched, set up home, had kids always other people and one day he had found he'd invisibly morphed into one of those other people. He'd caught himself wondering if it might be more fun to buy a new home with Harry than simply move himself into her place. The nauseating adverts on the TV showed happy couples choosing beds, sofas and kitchens and he'd sat there wondering what he and Harry would choose!

OK so his mother's ministrations had encouraged him to buy the ring in New York last thanksgiving but the timing had definitely been his.

The act of proposal had brought the reality of marriage and all the baggage that came with it to life and all of that had driven him towards recovery. The week he'd just spent at Winfield Hall had exposed him to a whole new raft of hopes and desires he'd never imagined blossoming from within his head.

And now Harry was driving him out, ok true he'd never thought about what the office would make of the ring but she seemed reluctant to put it on at all and all he could assume was that she'd said yes caught up in the emotion of the moment and now harboured second thoughts.


Dave drove off "well I never expected that" he whistled "seems this is a real can of worms"

"I don't like it; doesn't seem right somehow" Mac scratched his head "something smells – I just can't smell it"

"But they seemed genuine" Dave protested

"But Harry? We've worked with her… no way…"

"I don't know" Dave was wavering "Fraser says all this stuff"

"What are we going to do?" Mac wasn't real in on Daves conversation, it was just two bemused and uncertain men both airing their concerns alternately

"You know Fraser showed me those accounts money goes from Makepeace to Middleton to Al Hussein"

"Let's sleep on it - see what tomorrow brings"

"But where would Harry get money like that?"

"I like her"

"Do you think Dempsey knows?"

"Knows what?"

"Dunno…her background? or that she's dirty?"

"How do we know if the brothers aren't setting everything up?"

"We see Spikings in the morning"

"Agreed" finally their musing aligned


Dempsey picked mindlessly through the pile of evening papers that Tony was still accumulating, opening and discarding them in a heap that flowed from the desk to the floor.

"Seems Luscious Linda likes a party" he noted. Now looking up he read from the page "says she can find up to three friends" he directed the information towards Tony before asking him 'if he'd ever tried anything like that?'

Tony looked aghast and Dempsey laughed "Well you can't tell me you never thought about it." Dempsey wrote down the phone number and Tony watched gobsmacked.


Harry swung the car onto the driveway out of pure habit; without pausing she rang the door bell and didn't even feel relieved when it went unanswered instead she edged through the side entry and sprung the backdoor with an ease that would have alarmed her 10 years ago.

The kitchen was clean and tidy, just one mug waiting to be washed up, the fridge was stocked but the milk looked like it was about to turn. The lounge had a couple of Howard Hodgkin pictures hanging which, she begrudgingly admitted were pleasing bright colours that filled the room rather well; she noted he lack of personal photos. It was all very comfortable but gave no indication as to whether he was living alone or not. The Observer was from Monday and she rather suspected that Robert had been in London from the time of his delivery to the fraud squad. The book shelves had an increased range of thrillers and brought back memories of his fixation of spy stories; Harry huffed - books were so much more glamorous than real life. She ascended the stairs, Robert always like the box room as his study but the half open door of the bedroom beckoned.

The bedroom furniture hadn't changed and Harry could remember going out and choosing the bed and the antique pine suite. Had she been so beguiled and deluded back then? Those warm fuzzy feelings were so unreliable, she caught herself fingering the chain around her neck - if she was so certain then and got it so wrong how did she know if she wasn't making the same mistake all over again? How on earth had she let herself get so caught up in the 'will he propose and how' the magical dream of romance so that she'd completely forget the reality of implication and consequence. Angela had been so full on about Paris and the reasons that James had booked that she'd not given any thought about the actual idea of remarrying. She'd had a few boyfriends but they had been more about reassuring her that she could; most had been ditched in favour of work, a few for being downright boring and then there had been Dempsey who had crept under her radar. The route of friends then lover had been a first time for her and the wisdom of it all was beginning to concern her.

Now in Cambridge there was a re-emerging in her awareness was of her past and all she'd campaigned about back in the 70s: Women in a man's world, the right to equal pay for equal work - she'd marched for that one and led debates supporting the idea that women were as capable as men. Commissioner, she contemplated, why not? Dempsey teased, calling her Commissioner but that was because of her propensity to abide by the rules but why shouldn't she be Commissioner? Harry became acutely aware that she should be taking her inspectors exams but that hadn't been raised in the past year; she resolved to look into that.

Brought full circle in her thoughts gingerly Harry opened the wardrobe, no evidence of a woman but good grief did a solicitor need quite that many suits. Finally she found herself in his study. She sat at his desk wondering what on earth Robert would have wanted with all their bank files. The man was predominantly a selfish bastard but she'd not known him to be corrupt and she certainly couldn't imagine him being bothered by principles, misguided or not, that would drive him to terrorism after all terrorists were passionate about their cause and Robert was only ever passionate about himself. Hmm Robert loved to tell people how he was off to Winfield Hall preening himself as Lord of a Manor - god he was loathsome! Harry concentrated on the task ahead she pulled open files and started reading.


Dempsey had been touched by the irony of a full fridge and not feeling like eating anything but forced himself to produce his signature pasta dish – well the only one he could cook. He'd held back from phoning Harry's place unsure of why she hadn't come back to him and what he should say. Now at 10pm Dempsey threw the dinner he'd cooked into the bin.

He took another beer from the fridge - the cream tucked inside the fridge door taunted him – how many times had Harry rebuffed him in the past three days?

He pulled out the piece of paper from his back pocket and read the phone number he'd written down at the factory before leaving. For three minutes Dempsey tapped the phone as he contemplated his next move; The call was brief and after replacing the receiver Dempsey slung his jacket over his shoulder and left.