Chapter Four

A day working with Matt Boyden had tested Sam's patience to the limit. If sleeping with her daughter wasn't bad enough, Abi's own antics at the amusement arcade the day before had ensured that Matt had been able to turn the tables and claim that he was the injured party in all of this. His smug confession that he'd had sex with Abi did nothing but confirm what she already knew and reignited a ball of fury in her stomach every time she allowed the thought to cross her mind. Sitting in a car with him for an obbo was her idea of hell. Only when they had a suspect banged up in the cells could she allow herself to relax by getting as far away from Sergeant Boyden as possible. Back at the nick, she was thinking about heading home when Gina caught her in the corridor.

'Have you had a chance to look through the reports for that armed robbery on the Cockcroft?' she asked.

'It's on my to-do list,' Sam replied, massaging her neck.

'How far down exactly?'

'Well, now you're asking. I'll have a look before I leave but from what Danny said it's an ongoing investigation and we're not going to need uniform involvement until we get some concrete leads.'

'That's what I like to –' Gina began but she was broken off by Debbie McAllister joining their convoy.

'Guv,' Debbie said, practically blanking Gina, 'I need authorisation on those requests I left on your desk this morning.'

'I've barely sat down today, Debbie,' Sam replied.

'They are urgent, you know.'

Sam bit down her retort and said, 'I'll see what I can do before close of play but I'm not making any promises. Excuse me,' she added as Debbie stopped, sidestepping her without another word.

Gina kept walking alongside her and when they were around the next corner commented, 'Moments like that remind me how you arrived in the nick of time. Debbie McAllister as Acting DI would've had me begging for early retirement.'

Chuckling, Sam was about to reply when PC Buxton tapped her on the shoulder and asked, 'Have you got a minute, Guv?'

She spun around. 'Not really, Ruby. Could you pass whatever it is onto DS McAllister?'

Ruby nodded. 'Sure, Guv.'

As they carried on moving, Gina stifled her smirk. 'Ooh, well done.'

'Debbie must be at a loose end,' she replied, 'if she's badgering me for signatures.'

'She spent the day preparing for the gang rape trial,' said Gina. 'I get the impression Kerry had more success with the girls than she did.'

'Well, it's Kerry's case,' Sam said. 'She's done well with it up till now.'

'Exactly,' Gina returned then cleared her throat. 'Oh, any news about when Eva's back?'

'Not yet but –'

Sheelagh's head popped out of the Sergeants' Office. 'Guv, at some point can I catch up with you?'

For the first time, Sam's feet and brain stilled, startling Gina who carried on moving and had to backtrack. Smiling at Sheelagh, Sam suggested, 'Why don't you meet me upstairs in five minutes?'

'No, no,' replied Sheelagh, 'it's not urgent. It's just a query about one of DS Hunter's cases that landed on my desk. His notes are a bit vague, that's all.'

'I'm off for a few days,' Sam said. 'Grab a couple of coffees and we'll go through it now.'

'Are you sure?' Sheelagh questioned.

'Course,' she answered, earning herself a wide smile before the sergeant disappeared back into the office. After a moment, she realised she was still stationary and that Gina was staring at her. She got her feet moving again and glanced at her friend. 'What?'

'What does somebody have to do to get that reaction?'

'I don't know what you mean,' she said.

'Well, you've always got time for Sheelagh, haven't you?'

Sam shrugged. 'It's Sheelagh, isn't it? She doesn't waste your time.'

'That a dig?' Gina retorted.

'To answer your question,' Sam said with a grin, 'I spoke to Eva yesterday and they're all okay. She's making the most of the time with the kids. Coming back's the last thing on her mind at the moment, and I can't say I blame her after all they've been through.'

Gina nodded. 'With you there. Anyway, I'll see you in a couple of days.'

Smiling, Sam watched the inspector double-back in the direction of her office then she slowly climbed the stairs pondering Gina's words. It was true that she always had time for Sheelagh, as she'd put it, but in the short time since the sergeant had arrived at Sun Hill she'd earned that sort of respect. Sam knew that Sheelagh had made herself indispensable throughout Sun Hill, but she hoped that nobody had cottoned on to how indispensable Sam had suddenly found her. Gina was right with her unspoken criticism, she realised – she did treat Sheelagh differently to most of her colleagues.

During the mess with Abigail yesterday, she'd been relieved that Sheelagh was the one by her side. She knew, at least, that she believed the allegations against Matt, even considering Abi's actions at the arcade. Sam didn't like sympathy, but the distinction between that and support was a fine one and, somehow, Sheelagh always landed on the right side. She had a knack for seeking her out when she needed to talk, even when Sam didn't realise she needed to. Her attempts to maintain distance between them were illusory at best, especially if Gina had noticed the lack of it. The sensible thing to do would be to draw back completely, to keep her professional life as separate from the personal as possible; well, as separate as it could be with Abi getting into trouble all the time.

By the time she reached her office that was what she'd decided to do. She sat down and checked the emails that had popped up in her absence. Then the door creaked and she looked up to find Sheelagh balancing two coffees with a file under her arm. Jumping up, Sam relieved her of the file and one of the coffees, putting them both on the desk and gesturing for her to take a seat. After glancing out into the bustling office, Sam shut the door and returned to her desk.

'You look like I feel,' Sheelagh remarked. 'I heard you were shot at.'

Sam leaned back in her chair. 'I'm still not sure which was worse – the gun or being trapped with Matt all day. No, actually, it was definitely working with Matt. What's up with you?'

'Oh, Des Taviner,' said Sheelagh. 'I put him on the Coal Lane as Ward Officer.'

Chuckling, Sam said, 'Nicely done.'

'Seemed like a good idea at the time. He hated it, of course, until this morning when a pretty woman walked into the office with a noise complaint.'

Sam snorted. 'Typical.'

'It was alleged he helped her throw her neighbour's stereo off a balcony, which is a bit beyond the call of duty and I challenged him on it. So now he's taking her wayward son under his wing to prove a point,' Sheelagh added. 'God knows what he's getting up to down there.'

Reaching for her coffee, Sam said, 'It bothers you.' When Sheelagh hesitated, she continued, 'Whatever he does won't reflect on you, don't worry about that. There's no controlling him and his priority's his own skin. He might sail close to the wind, but he usually drags himself back.'

There was a strange look on Sheelagh's face. 'You make him sound like Matt.'

'In some ways, maybe,' Sam replied. 'But I'd actually trust Des around my daughter. He'd look, but he wouldn't be stupid enough to touch.'

'How is Abi?' Sheelagh questioned after a moment.

'Quiet,' she said with a wince. 'I'm going to try and talk to her over the next few days. It might do us good or we might rip each other to shreds.' Studying the woman opposite, Sam asked, 'Is everything else all right, Sheelagh? You seem distracted.'

'What? No, no, I'm fine.' She smiled and, finally, it morphed into something more realistic than not. 'So this case of Phil's...'

Sam recognised the diversionary technique for what it was but let it slide. After all, she hadn't exactly admitted that Abi's real problem was her lack of knowledge about her father. Sheelagh must've heard on the grapevine that it was a factor, but her delicacy had prevented her mentioning it. Sam could return that favour by not prying when something was evidently playing on Sheelagh's mind. She vaguely remembered that this was how friendships worked, though her earlier thoughts about redefining this relationship into a strictly professional one had gone right out of the window. Well, what did it matter if she and Sheelagh were friends? It was a different prospect to her professional friendship with Gina, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

'Thanks for sparing me the time,' Sheelagh said as she rose.

Waving that away, Sam replied, 'Don't worry about it. I'll see you in a few days.'

'Have fun.' When Sam chuckled, she added, 'Well, try to anyway.'

'Yes, Sergeant,' she said, watching her leave then shaking herself and picking up the paperwork Debbie was so anxious about.


If there was one thing Sam knew after kicking around at home for a couple of days it was that she couldn't function without her job. Perpetual silence from Abi had prompted her to go out into the back garden and start pottering around aimlessly. To say she didn't have green fingers was an understatement, though at least the sight gave Abi a laugh when she got home from school. It was the closest to a thaw they came and she was grateful to get back to work, even if she was on a course and then in court for the next couple of days.

She had a bit of time before setting off for the conference centre so she slipped into work, intent on checking that everything was running okay in her absence. What with the DCI away as well, she was a little apprehensive about what she'd find. The paperwork mountain on her desk had trebled at least but there were no red flags waving yet so she didn't have an excuse to postpone the course.

At a bit of a loose end, before she left she decided to track Sheelagh down. Her first port of call was the Sergeants' Office naturally enough, but when she popped her head around the door she didn't see who she wanted to.

'Looking for me?' Matt queried, cocking an eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes. 'Hopefully I'll never be that desperate. Is Sheelagh about?'

'Why do you want to know?'

'Er, because I do,' she retorted. 'Look, do you know where she is or not?'

'Probably simpering after her new mate.'

'Excuse me?' she questioned.

'Des Taviner,' he clarified with a smirk. 'They're turning into a right double-act. If you ask me, there's something going on between them.'

'Don't judge everyone by your moral standards,' she said, turning to leave.

'How is Abi?' he called after her.

The only way she persuaded herself not to rise to it was by picturing herself burying her boot into his groin. Stepping away from the office, she slowly climbed the stairs, a little deflated. When she got back to the office she wasn't planning to linger in case somebody caught her for a word, but before she could collect her bag there was a knock on the door. Turning, she braced herself for attack then smiled as she caught sight of Sheelagh.

'You were looking for me, Guv?' Sheelagh asked politely.

The tone startled her – it was much more impersonal than she'd grown used to in recent weeks. It was an escalation of her distraction from their last conversation, leaving Sam wondering what had happened in her absence.

'It was nothing really,' she said. 'I was just checking you didn't have any problems with that case of Phil's.'

'Really?' Sheelagh stepped inside the office, a small smile slipping onto her face. 'No, we made those arrests and passed it onto Mickey. Of course, he then got himself kidnapped so it may have fallen by the wayside again.'

Sam snorted and perched on the edge of the desk. 'I heard about that. I missed the arrest of the year with Ron Gregory, didn't I?'

Sheelagh seemed to be relaxing by the second. 'It was hairy for a while there,' she said. 'I was on the scene when we found Mickey and Robbie. One of the more surreal arrests I've ever been a party to, with Gina commandeering an ice cream van and playing the music all around an industrial estate to get a location.'

'Jack missed that bit out when he called me,' Sam commented.

'Well, it did the trick, thank goodness,' Sheelagh answered.

'On the plus side, we got Gregory, though I suppose that means I have to have Phil back. I can't Mickey believe was stupid enough to go after Gregory without backup,' she added.

Sheelagh's lips twitched and she raised an eyebrow. 'Because you'd never do anything silly like go after a dangerous criminal on your own, would you?'

Sam grimaced. 'You've been listening to the gossips again, haven't you?'

'No, that I heard on day one,' replied Sheelagh.

'That was ...different,' she said, crossing her fingers that Sheelagh wouldn't make her defend that remark. Though she saw the amusement in her blue eyes, she didn't challenge her, at least not this second. After considering the words carefully, she questioned, 'Anything else going on around here? Des Taviner behaving himself on the Coal Lane Estate?'

There was a definite alteration in Sheelagh's demeanour. She pasted on a false smile and murmured, 'He's not doing as badly as I thought he might.'

That was equivocal, but Sam decided not to press it, at least not right now. Checking her watch, she realised she was going to be late for her course if she wasn't careful.

'Sorry, Sheelagh,' she said, 'I've gotta go. I'm on a public awareness course today and I'm in court tomorrow, possibly the day after as well.'

'Of course,' Sheelagh answered, stepping towards the door a little too eagerly. 'See you, Guv.'

Sam watched her escape, more than a little intrigued, then, as DS McAllister saw her standing in the doorway, she grabbed her bag and strode out of the office with as much authority as possible. It wasn't quite enough to shake Debbie's questions off entirely, but it did mean she escaped CID without giving more than a few monosyllabic answers to the other woman.


The course was as useful as a chocolate teapot. Once she'd finished listening to the one-upmanship and general biting remarks, she felt an irresistible urge to return to the nick and do some actual work. At the very least, she could clear her emails down and sign a few forms. It would have the dual effect of making her feel like she hadn't wasted the day while keeping her away from Abigail for a few more hours.

CID was quiet. Debbie was still around along with a few other officers, but Sam purposefully went into her office and closed the door. While she wanted to be in work, she didn't fancy another pointless conversation with someone trying to get the better of her – she'd had enough of that at the conference centre. With Debbie McAllister there was no luxury in winning; it was too easy.

After half an hour or so of working by her desk lamp, there was a knock on the door. Sam stiffened then finally sighed and called, 'Come in.'

It wasn't Debbie on the threshold as she'd expected, or any other of her officers. It was Sheelagh, dressed in civilian clothes, apparently ready to go home, apart from the fact that she was standing in Sam's doorway and not hurrying to her car. Seeing the look on her face, Sam rose and closed the door. Then, putting a hand on her arm, she steered her into a chair and walked to her cabinet. Sheelagh followed her gaze, not objecting, so when Sam withdrew the bottle and two glasses she was confident the gesture wouldn't be rejected. Instead, glancing back, she found a pained smile on her friend's face. After pouring two generous measures, Sam passed one over and then settled in her own chair.

'Cheers,' she said, raising her glass.

'Cheers,' Sheelagh echoed, following suit then taking a sip and inhaling deeply. 'Tell me about Pat Kitson,' she said finally.

Surprised, Sam tilted her head. 'Kitson? Why?'

'I can trust you, can't I?' Sheelagh asked after a moment. 'Sorry, that's a stupid question, of course I can.'

Sam was barely following this. She'd never thought of Sheelagh as frivolous, but asking about Pat Kitson then wondering aloud whether she could trust her was a bit bizarre as far as she was concerned. Was Sheelagh about to confess something that she couldn't this morning, something about why she seemed so uneasy? Perhaps, but Sam doubted it. The distracted woman she'd encountered this morning was a different animal to this one; something had certainly happened in the interim.

'You can trust me,' Sam told her firmly. 'Why do you want to know about Pat Kitson?'

Sheelagh sighed. 'I've just sent Nick Klein off on sick leave. He's admitted to taking drugs.'

Sitting up straighter, Sam said, 'I know Nick's struggled with Cass's death, but I don't know about using it as an excuse for something like that.'

'It wasn't an excuse,' answered Sheelagh. 'He wasn't using it as mitigation but... He loved her. He hasn't healed, he's nowhere close to healing.'

'I'm not surprised,' she said softly. 'Kitson was... No one should have to see the person they love treated that way, dumped in the river, washed up on the shore like a piece of rubbish.'

Sheelagh was watching her. 'He said he held her.'

'Yeah, he found her,' Sam replied, massaging her forehead. 'I can't deny it was traumatic for him. And then... His judgement lapsed,' she went on with difficulty, 'and he put his faith in Pat after Simon Kitson's death. He thought they were on the same page, both grieving for something they didn't understand. I think I interrupted what might have been her seeking revenge on Nick for the part he played in arresting her brother.'

'What do you mean?' asked Sheelagh.

Sam sipped her whisky. 'I went to see her at her home. At that point I had my suspicions. Nick was there, he'd given her a lift back. He seemed...out of it. Grief-stricken, maybe. Once he'd gone, she put a pair of scissors away. I do think sometimes that if I'd arrived five minutes later...'

'That wasn't her MO though,' Sheelagh commented.

'No,' she conceded, 'but, to Pat, losing Simon was like losing her life anyway. She didn't care much about her own freedom, her reason for living had gone so why not take the people with her that she blamed for Simon's death? Nick, me...'

She shuddered at the memory and absently rubbed at her wrists where the bonds had held her fast. Sheelagh placed her glass on the desk and reached across. Sam allowed their hands to touch before she withdrew and tried to smile.

'Why did you put yourself in that position?' Sheelagh murmured.

'Glory,' she replied with a shrug.

'No, that's too simplistic for you,' answered Sheelagh. 'There's more to it.'

'Why do you say that?' Sam returned.

Sheelagh held her gaze. 'Because you're dodging the question for a start.'

Chuckling, she brought her glass to her lips again to buy herself some time. Her mind was running over the things Duncan Lennox had called her after Pat Kitson's arrest. She'd allowed them to touch her momentarily at the time then buried them away and tried to forget them. But there was more than a grain of truth to them, if she was honest. Then again, her motives hadn't been as completely selfish as he'd alleged.

'It wasn't supposed to be Pat Kitson,' she said finally. 'It wasn't supposed to be a woman, it didn't fit. I got it wrong. Part of me wanted to understand how a woman could be capable of that, get inside her head. And the rest of it was egotistical glory,' she concluded.

Tapping the rim of her glass, Sheelagh questioned, 'Did you get inside her head?'

'No, not completely,' she replied shortly. 'I was close but...no. She did what she did out of some warped incestuous love for her brother, beyond that... I don't wonder Nick's struggling with it,' she added. 'Cass's only crime was falling in love with the brother of an obsessive and dangerous woman.'

'And Nick loved Cass,' Sheelagh murmured.

Sam leaned back and sighed. 'We don't all get what we deserve in this life.'

'No,' agreed Sheelagh, 'we certainly don't.'

'I hope Nick can move on,' she went on after a moment. 'If he can't...'

'I know,' Sheelagh said. She drained her glass and reluctantly stood. 'I suppose I should go home. What with Nick and pensioners pointing guns at me, it's been a funny day.'

Sam also stood, shooting her a puzzled glance. 'Who was pointing a gun at you?'

'Oh, there was a spate of burglaries on the Coal Lane today, I was investigating them with Nick. One of the victims had kept her late husband's service revolver, she was waving it in the burglar's face when we got there. She had to put her specs on to read our warrant cards.'

She couldn't help but laugh, feeling better for the release. 'That could've been dicey.'

'Well, it wasn't loaded luckily,' Sheelagh replied, 'but you couldn't tell that by looking. Thanks for the drink,' she went on.

'Anytime,' Sam answered. 'A friendship works both ways, doesn't it?'

A true smile settled on Sheelagh's face for the first time since she'd entered the office. 'I've heard that,' she said. 'Night, Sam.'

'Goodnight, Sheelagh,' she murmured, sinking back into her seat.


When criminals were actually put away, that was when she enjoyed being in court. She had a voicemail from Jack at the end of the first day of evidence informing her of the accident involving Brandon Kane's ex-wife and Debbie McAllister's investigative zeal. Jack was worried about alienating one of the most promising members of the team by subjecting him to an intrusive and unnecessary investigation but, since Sam couldn't get back to keep Debbie in check, he called in MIT to assist. She had no idea how it was going, though she wasn't going to enjoy refereeing between Brandon and Debbie in the likely event he was found innocent of any involvement.

After an arduous cross-examination about evidence, she was grateful to go straight home after court and unwind in front of the television. She wasn't completely reformed, having a few files tucked in her bag that she'd been working through at court. She persuaded Abi to eat with her then, when her daughter rapidly excused herself, she finished up her paperwork, even managing a decent night's sleep afterwards. She got into work, hearing the full story about the Tanya Fisher investigation from a downbeat Ken Drummond. Apparently, Debbie had made a complete hash of things, accusing Brandon of all sorts while his ex-wife's fall and subsequent death had been finally ruled an accident. Sam couldn't blame Brandon for taking leave to acclimatise to his new circumstances as a single parent with two grieving children, though she knew she'd miss him on her team for a while.

A number of new files had landed on her desk in her days away. She took a peek at a few of them, but her eye was caught by the top one – an accusation of sexual assault against PC Gemma Osbourne formalised the previous day. Reading it, with the details of the Fisher investigation ringing in her ears, she decided to make it her priority. Her first step was to speak to Gemma about the allegation, though she wasn't in the station and Matt Boyden was distinctly unhelpful as to her whereabouts.

Returning to her office, she made a few phone calls before PC Osbourne appeared in her office, jittery and her voice wavering. Sam stood, deliberately trying to intimidate the young PC. The only way she could get a true read on what was going on was by making Gemma defend herself.

'I suppose you know what this is about,' Sam said.

'Sandi Booth?' Gemma muttered.

'Yeah,' she replied. 'She's made her complaint official. She's accused you of indecent assault.'

'The only reason that Sandi Booth said that I assaulted her was because she thought we'd let her off the shoplifting charge,' Gemma said, unable to keep her voice level. 'That's all there is to it, Guv, you must know that.'

'I don't know anything, PC Osbourne,' she returned. 'And unless you possess psychic powers I don't know how you can make that statement either. So,' she went on, 'do you want to tell me exactly what happened?'

Gemma gritted her teeth. 'I arrested Sandi Booth, I put her into a police car. She then went off on one to say that if all this got out her career would be ruined etc etc. I stared out of the window, made sympathetic noises, end of story.'

Sam was watching her intently. 'Right, so how long did you and Sandi spend in the car on your own?'

'Five minutes,' Gemma answered, 'possibly less. You don't really believe that I assaulted that woman, do you, Guv?'

'This isn't about what I do or don't believe,' Sam told her. 'It's not personal. I'm just following procedure. You of all people should know that – you're a police officer.'

'Yeah, so why do I suddenly feel like a suspect then?' Gemma demanded.

For a moment Sam considered arguing but it wouldn't do any good. She simply indicated that the constable could leave and stood thoughtfully in her wake. Sitting back at her desk, she looked over the file again and a smile crossed her face. Sheelagh had received the complaint – a good witness if ever there was one. Without hesitation, she went down to the Sergeants' Office then, finding it empty, took a punt at the canteen. Sheelagh was there, at a table of her own, seemingly immersed in her own thoughts. Sam got herself a coffee then went to join her.

'Morning,' she said, making Sheelagh jump. 'Sorry, didn't mean to startle you.'

Shaking her head, Sheelagh replied, 'I was miles away. What can I do for you?'

'You dealt with Sandi Booth's complaint yesterday, didn't you?' she asked.

Sheelagh pursed her lips. 'I did, yeah.'

'What are your thoughts? I've read your report but I trust your gut instinct.'

'Do you?' Sheelagh questioned with a smile then continued, 'I booked her in and there was no hint of a complaint then. She was too busy giving Gary her autograph. When she made the allegation she was...'

'Go on,' Sam pressed. 'You know I'm not trying to trip you up. I'm about to visit her and I value your judgement.'

Inclining her head, Sheelagh said, 'She seemed very satisfied with herself. But, of course, all I could do was record the complaint and pass on to CID.'

'Course,' said Sam, sipping her coffee. 'But in your expert opinion?'

Sheelagh's lips twitched. 'If you can call it that.'

'I can,' she assured her.

'Well, in that case, I would support Gemma to the hilt,' answered Sheelagh.

Sam reached across and touched her hand. 'That's all I needed to know. Thank you.'

Nodding to Sheelagh, she returned upstairs and finished her coffee in her office before putting her coat on and leaving to visit Sandi Booth. The car journey through three sets of road works and a heavy jam did nothing to quell her irritation. Nevertheless, she had to give Sandi Booth a fair hearing, if only for decency's sake. She swept aside Gemma's opinion – and Sheelagh's – as soon as she knocked on the door; though when it was opened by someone who looked as though she'd just stepped off a catwalk in Aberystwyth she felt her prejudices returning.

'Miss Booth?' she queried, holding up her warrant card. 'DI Nixon, Sun Hill Police.'

'Listen, darling,' Sandi sneered. 'I was released without charge, right? So if you want to do more interviews then I suggest you get my solicitor.'

Sam gritted her teeth and forced some civility into her tone. 'I'm not actually here about the shoplifting, Miss Booth.'

'I was not shoplifting!' Sandi retorted.

'Er, would you mind if I came inside?' Sam questioned.

There was a long pause before Sandi muttered, 'Sure.'

'Thank you,' she said, stepping inside the gaudy house and looking around. 'I'd like to ask you a few questions about an incident you allege took place yesterday.' She picked up a magazine with Sandi's face emblazoned on it and lied, 'Ooh, it's very nice. It was involving a PC Gemma Osbourne,' she added.

'Incident?' Sandi repeated. 'Is that how the police are describing sexual assault these days?'

Sam picked up a picture of her with Ant and Dec and repressed her snort. 'Erm, well, Gemma Osbourne is adamant she didn't assault you,' she said.

'So, what, does that surprise you?' demanded Sandi.

Turning to face her, Sam replied, 'I'm surprised that the accusation has been made against her. She's a very good officer with a promising career ahead of her.'

'Yeah, likewise, Inspector. You know, look – best regional weather reporter 1999.' She gestured to a framed certificate across the room. 'I was a nominee. I live or die by my reputation.'

'You're a weathergirl?' Sam questioned.

'I'm a forecaster,' answered Sandi.

'Sorry,' she murmured, clearing her throat. 'Sandi, were you worried that a prosecution might jeopardise your career?' Her gaze slipped back to that so-called award. 'Cos there is no prosecution now so presumably that's not a concern anymore.'

Sandi snorted. 'Look, have you any idea of the indignities I had to suffer at the hands of the police yesterday? I mean, I was thrown into a cell for crying out loud.'

'I know it's not pleasant,' Sam said, her irritation beginning to show, 'but neither is it fair to take all this out on the arresting officer.'

'I'm not taking this out on anyone,' answered Sandi. 'What, are you calling me a liar?'

Sam met her eye. 'Let's just say I'm questioning your interpretation of yesterday's events, Miss Booth. You know,' she went on, 'bottom line, it's your word against Gemma's. And without any witnesses or any evidence it's gonna be very difficult to prove what actually happened one way or another.'

Before Sandi could respond her phone rang. 'It's probably my agent,' she said. Sam tried to rein in her ridicule as she answered the phone with, 'Hello? Hi, Marty, darling, I'm all yours.' She looked back to Sam and added, 'I want that girl to apologise to me.'

Now she really couldn't contain her urge to roll her eyes. With the barest of courteous smiles, she slipped out of the house, grateful for oxygen away from that woman's ego. She was still wondering whether every weathergirl in the country was that self-absorbed when she got back to the station. It was a disturbing thought. What was it about minor celebrities that gave them a superiority complex? If you thought that much of yourself and only had a pretty face to back it up with then you were heading for a fall – at least Sam hoped so anyway.

Sheelagh saw her passing the Sergeants' Office and stepped out to the corridor to greet her. 'How did it go with Sandi Booth?' she asked.

Sam dug her hands into her pockets and leaned her shoulder against the wall. 'You were right,' she answered. 'There's nothing in it except maliciousness. She didn't like being arrested and she wanted to take it out on Gemma.'

'I'm glad,' replied Sheelagh. 'Gemma's a good officer. But how did Sandi know she was gay?'

'No idea,' Sam said. 'I mean, she's not shy about it, but I doubt she mentions it to prisoners. Could've been station gossip, I suppose. That'd explain why she didn't raise the complaint when you first booked her in. Somehow I don't think she would've tried the same thing if a man had arrested her.'

'Well, if Gary's reaction was anything to go by, she just wouldn't have been arrested.' Sheelagh shook her head in disgust.

'Maybe that's the difference between men and women,' Sam said after a moment. 'They're bowled over by a pretty face, but Gemma, even being that way inclined, doesn't bat an eyelid and just gets on with her job. Sandi wants an apology,' she added.

Sheelagh sighed. 'Do you think Gemma will agree to that?'

'Do you?' Sam returned.

'No,' Sheelagh conceded. 'She hasn't done anything wrong, after all. Some people won't apologise when they're in the wrong, let alone when they're in the right.'

'I should know,' said Sam with a grin, 'I'm one of them. I'll put it to her anyway. I'll let you know how I get on.'

'Good luck,' Sheelagh called after her.

When she tracked Gemma down she took her up to her office, aware that most of the station was supremely interested in this allegation. Even up there they weren't immune as several sets of eyes followed them through CID.

'I've been to see Sandi,' Sam began. 'Basically, she'll let the matter drop if you agree to apologise.'

Gemma stared at her. 'She wants me to apologise?'

'Yeah,' she replied, already sensing where this conversation was going.

'She wants me to say sorry to her?' Gemma questioned incredulously.

'You don't actually have to do it face to face,' Sam tried.

'I don't believe this,' Gemma muttered.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Debbie and Mickey hovering nearby, obviously trying to eavesdrop. 'Excuse me, Gemma.' She moved to close the door then said, 'Look, if we make a formal apology we can draw a line under this whole thing.'

Gemma snorted. 'And what would we be apologising for exactly?

'It's not an ideal solution,' she answered, 'but it means that the whole allegation will be erased from your record. You don't want this affecting your future career prospects.'

'I haven't been found guilty of anything,' Gemma objected. 'It can't harm my career.'

'Technically, no,' Sam admitted, 'but we are operating in the real world, Gemma, and people do form judgments.'

'Well, as far as I'm concerned it can stay on my record because I'm not apologising for something I didn't do.'

Sam inclined her head. 'If that's what you want.'

'With respect,' said Gemma, 'what I want is for you to let everybody know that I didn't assault Sandi Booth.'

With that, she fumbled for the door and went hurtling out of the office. Sam sighed, a little frustrated but understanding Gemma's attitude. If it was her in this position then she'd certainly be as obstinate. Plus, having met Sandi Booth, she could comprehend that the prospect of apologising to that fame-hungry liar was a pretty miserable one.

Sitting at her desk, Sam massaged her forehead. Sandi had made the allegation to barter her way out of a shoplifting charge, but that charge had been dropped. Now it was simply, as she'd said to Sheelagh, pure maliciousness on her part. No charges had been brought because no stolen goods had been found on Sandi at the time of her arrest. Gemma's statement from the previous day suggested that Sandi had thrown away all the evidence during the pursuit and, with the case being relatively minor, Sandi had been released. However, both Gemma's evidence and the very fact of Sandi bothering to concoct the assault allegation at all indicated that there was something to the shoplifting accusation. An idea began forming in her head and refused to go away.

A little while later, she left her office. She wasn't quite sure what she was looking for until she wandered into the yard and saw Des Taviner grabbing Gemma's arm. He looked genuinely concerned about her and Sam's plan solidified.

As Gemma drove away, she called, 'Des.' Gesturing him over, she waited until he was closer before she continued, 'I need you to do something for me.'

'I'm snowed under at the moment, Guv,' he replied.

'Yeah, well, you'd be helping a friend out,' she said. Comprehension dawned on his face and she nodded for them to head back inside. 'I need you to collect and look through some tapes for me. Boring, I know, but it's the best shot we've got of making this go away.'

He glanced sideways. 'What are you planning on doing with them, Guv?'

'Better you don't know,' she returned.

With a smirk, he received his instructions and disappeared. Sam checked in with the various ongoing investigations in the department and settled down with her own mountain of paperwork. She was in her office later that afternoon when Des walked in holding a box of tapes.

'Right, did you find anything?' she questioned.

He began rummaging. 'I think if you have a look at tapes three, five and eleven you'll find some very interesting viewing.'

She took the tapes he held out. 'Well done, Des.'

As he left she could barely contained her pleasure. She deposited the files in her hand and went to watch the tapes. Interesting viewing indeed, and she barely stopped to collect her coat before leaving the station to pay Sandi another visit.

This time, it seemed, she was less able to conceal her disdain for this egotistical maniac. Sandi let her in full of pompous expectations that would've irritated her even if Gemma had been guilty. After answering the door, Sandi retreated to the sofa where she proceded to sit like a queen on one of the ugliest sofas Sam had ever seen.

'I'm afraid Gemma Osbourne has refused to apologise,' Sam said.

'Right,' Sandi said with a sneer. 'Well, you know, I made a very generous offer. But if she wants to turn her little nose up then she can damn well get investigated for indecent assault.'

'As I said before, without any witnesses or evidence this is going nowhere.'

'Well, I'm sure there are a lot of people out there who'd be very interested in my story, even if you're not,' Sandi retorted.

Though she'd expected a certain amount of resistance, Sam still felt her ire rise. 'I'm sorry?'

'The press,' said Sandi.

'This isn't a game,' Sam told her, 'this is someone's life we're talking about, an officer's career. I thought the whole point of this was that you didn't want any adverse publicity.'

'Yeah, but I am a victim of a sexual attack by a gay Met officer. So I'm sure I'll get a fairly sympathetic response from the public, you know?'

'Not when they find out you're lying,' Sam pointed out.

Sandi smirked. 'Oh, come on, love, there's no evidence, there's no witnesses so no one's gonna find out.'

Well, she'd certainly given her the opportunity to back down. She suspected she was going to enjoy this far too much.' Do you mind if I use your video?' she asked.

'What?' Sandi asked as she walked towards it and crouched down.

'Right,' she said, sliding the tape into the slot and reaching for the remote, 'which channel?'

'Eight.'

Barely containing her smile, Sam set the tape running. 'You'll like this,' she said as the CCTV flickered to life on the screen. There was Sandi shoving some stolen clothing into her bag. 'Oh, there's one for your show reel,' she said then fast-forwarded to the next good bit. 'Oh, there's another one. What is it they say?' she queried, glancing sideways. 'No publicity is bad publicity? I'm not sure I believe that.'

'This is a set-up,' Sandi hissed.

'No,' she replied, 'this is new evidence.'

The wheels started turning in her brain before she said triumphantly, 'Hang on, erm, you've already let me off so you can't use this.'

'Do you know, you're right?' She paused, deliberately allowing her to savour her satisfaction. 'I can't,' she went on conversationally. 'I don't know how many copies of this I've got back at the station. I'll have to make sure I destroy them all. I wouldn't want them to fall into the wrong hands. Then again, it might be too late. People catch on we've got tapes of Sandi Booth, the face of Channel London –'

'I know exactly what you're trying to do,' Sandi interrupted.

'Well, it's just a matter of time before some copper passes one onto his journo friends,' she added.

'This is blackmail,' said Sandi.

Sam repressed her grin. 'I'd take the judicial system over trial by media any day of the week.'

Standing, Sandi spat, 'That's it, I am going to phone my solicitor.'

'To say what?' Sam queried. 'As far as I'm concerned, this conversation never happened.'

She looked to her, enjoying the defeat that crossed her face. Without another word, she pulled out a form from her pocket and passed her a pen. A muscle working in her cheek, Sandi dashed off her signature. Sam took the form, retrieved the video tape from the machine and headed for the door.

'It's been a pleasure,' she said as she left.

Her delight didn't diminish by the time she got back to the station, but she tried to rein it in a little. She couldn't have people seeing her that amused, it wouldn't do her reputation any good. Nevertheless, as she was looking for Gemma, she walked past the Sergeants' Office and saw Sheelagh inside. Grinning, she planted her hands on the door frame and leaned into the office.

'Hiya,' she said.

Sheelagh glanced up. 'Uh-oh.'

'What?' she returned innocently.

'I've seen that look before,' Sheelagh answered. 'What've you done?'

'Sandi Booth's withdrawn her complaint,' she said.

Pushing back her chair, Sheelagh stood and rounded the desk. 'Okay, what did you do?'

She cleared her throat and tried to stop smiling. 'It wasn't all me,' she admitted. 'Des Taviner was happy to help when I told him it was for Gemma. He checked the tapes from the shopping centre and found some interesting footage. Inadmissible as evidence, obviously, but Sandi saw the peril of that footage leaking out into the public domain.'

Sheelagh raised an eyebrow. 'You do realise we arrest people for that kind of thing?'

'Because they're rubbish at it,' Sam replied. 'If the criminals were as smart as us, we'd be out of a job, Sheelagh.'

'Remind me never to get on the wrong side of you,' Sheelagh said, though she was grinning too now. 'I'm glad Gemma's off the hook. Well done.'

'I'd better find her and tell her the good news.' Swinging back out into the corridor, she spared one last look for Sheelagh. 'You'd have to work really hard to get on the wrong side of me,' she told her.

'I'll bear that in mind,' Sheelagh called after her and she continued on her journey to find Gemma with a wide smile on her face.