Sitting at her laptop, Laura brought up the university portal that gave her access to medical journals from around the world. It was an invaluable tool for any medic whether they dealt with the living or the dead and she found herself making use of it on a regular basis. Like all her colleagues she tried hard to keep on top of the latest research but modern medicine the way that it was meant it was an impossible task in many ways, so numerous were the discoveries and advances that were being made all of the time. As she typed in her search parameters and waited for the internet to work its magic, she reached for the tea and biscuit her assistant had kindly brought her.

She had tried not to overthink James' words of the previous day but it was difficult. The intervening post-mortems and the necessary preliminary reports had served a purpose as a useful, if not tragic, distraction. For a while at least. But now she was finding that the mundane tasks that required her attention were not engaging enough to stop her mind returning to thoughts of Robbie and what he may or may not feel for her. It wasn't as if the words themselves were a surprise, more that they had finally, after so long, been given a voice. And yet sadly this had been from the mouth of the tall, sensitive Sergeant and not the kind, caring and attractive Inspector whom she wished would have said them. Dragging her focus back to the computer, she started to scroll through the various results, looking for any that might confirm her suspicion. After three or four failed attempts she hit gold and smiled smugly. Detective work was not the reserved occupation of the police, she thought to herself, hitting print and waiting for the page to churn itself out.


"Calm down. Panicking won't get us anywhere," said Jackson, although he was feeling anything but himself.

"Not panicking, just concerned," said the man. "We have an arrangement and I don't want it coming out."

He spoke in low tones that had a hint of the menace about them. Long practiced in the art of intimidation, he was confident that he could control this money man in a suit, but given what was at stake he didn't want to take any chances.

He continued, "Look, I didn't mean for him to die but that ship has sailed. We gotta concentrate on the future. Might have to lay low for a bit but this changes nothing."

Jackson nodded. He knew the risks of crossing this man and those that relied on what he could supply them with. In many ways Kevin had been the perfect middle man, so outwardly innocent and unassuming that no one would ever suspect, and just when his hard work in getting things off the ground had started to pay dividends everything hung in the balance once more.


The day had turned out fine and dry, although not quite warm enough to tempt even the most determined picnickers to the benches scattered throughout the open spaces of Oxford. The shoots of summer were well on their way though and, as Robbie crossed the botanic gardens, he noticed this changing of the seasons, the blossom having long since fallen and branches now covered with their fresh, bright green leaves, the hint of roses that were still to come nestled amongst the blooms of late primrose and bluebell. Walking was certainly not the quickest way to get from the police station to the mortuary but this option did give Robbie an opportunity to think. Sometimes Hathaway was exactly the right person to bounce stuff off of and he valued their relationship greatly, it having certainly developed over the years from work colleagues to one more like family. But when it came to his most private thoughts and feelings there were few that Robbie could speak to. Lyn maybe, even Laura on occasion, but even they were often lost for a response when he tried to explain some of the conflicting emotions he felt.

Questioning Katherine Maloney had stirred up memories that he'd thought he'd buried, the trauma of hearing of Val's accident and the inevitable procedure and paperwork that had to be followed. The crushing grief after her death had slowly been lifting over the years since, and whilst he knew he'd never completely recover from losing her, the pain was less, manageable even. He could speak of her with his son and daughter without tears now, even laugh at the stories they shared about her, remember their time all together as a four with fondness rather than overwhelming loss. Katherine had been stoic in receiving the news. It was more than just the shock of it all, it was her stillness in reacting to life altering news that had affected him so much. It resembled too closely how Lyn described his own manner in the days and weeks after Val's death. The sheer devastation and anger of it all had set in later, a black hole from which on several occasions he'd been unsure that he would ever escape. But now as he walked he contemplated whether this fog that he'd lived in for so long, that he'd almost accepted as part of who he was now, really did need to define him in quite the way that it had. As he covered the final few yards to the pathology building, he subconsciously felt for the envelope Innocent had given him resting in the inside breast pocket of his jacket and wondered.

"Here to see me, Inspector?" a familiar voice from behind him caused him to snap his head around, his thoughts dissipating into the ether.

"Always, doctor. Surely you know that by now," he replied lightly, grinning at the sight of her. "I wanted to chat about the insulin, if you have a moment." He looked at his watch, "Over a bite to eat perhaps?"

"Great minds, Robbie. I was just on my way to show you this," waving some papers at him, "But perhaps lunch is a fair price to pay for their contents," her eyes sparkling at him in response.


The CCTV footage from the pool had been collected and tasked to a Detective Constable Jones to review. There were multiple cameras covering the entrance, reception area, gym and the pool, but none in the changing area itself. Given the narrow time period they were looking at, Hathaway was confident that if there was something there to find then it would be found relatively quickly. He'd managed to secure a list of those who'd been in the gym and pool at the time but as the system only logged those using their membership cards, and not those who opted for pay-as-you-go, it did have its limitations. An initial review had revealed little other than confirming Kevin Maloney and his son were members and presumably regulars. He turned his attention to the diary that Agile Accountancy Ltd had sent over for the previous week. It confirmed they'd been drinks on Thursdays evening but other than that it was merely a list of in-house meetings and reminders to call various clients. There was one odd entry for Friday, between 10.30am and 11am, marked as 'Private' and James made a note to enquire as to what that could be for. Sighing, he reached for the next file on his desk, the call log from Kevin's mobile, and as began to work his way through it wondered whether he should have designated this task to the DC instead and taken the the CCTV task for himself, but eventually concluded there was little in it, both being as mundane as each other.


The small cafe nearest the pathology department had one tiny table left, tucked right up under the window, and sitting rather closer to one another than usual, they proceeded to distract themselves from this sudden intimacy with the matter at hand.

"Insulin in the body is needed to regulate blood sugar levels which is why diabetics need it to stay well. It doesn't have any other proven medical uses but that doesn't stop people using and abusing it." Laura reached for her stack of papers, "Bodybuilders."

Robbie looked sceptical. "Really? Don't they tend to use steroids?"

She nodded in response, "Absolutely, but some take insulin as well. The theory is that it helps to build stamina and muscle growth, but it's not without its risks."

He pondered this before speculating, "But Kevin didn't have any steroids in his system, no sign of having injected insulin. So what? He intended to use it at some future point?"

She shrugged, "I just bring you what I can, Robbie."

As he turned this over in his mind, wondering how it might fit it with anything else they knew so far, their sandwiches arrived, interrupting his train of thought.

"Of course," she added between bites, "There is one further avenue to explore but it's a bit out there," pausing briefly before asking, "Do detectives read crime fiction?"

He laughed, "Not on the whole, far too unrealistic. Bit of Rebus maybe, if I really want to take the job home. I can relate to his take on the world," he guffawed.

"Ah, the brilliant yet noble loner," she pronounced.

Unsure how to take this, Robbie shifted slightly in his seat, the compliment butting up against a harsh truth. Realising his discomfort she moved the conversation on.

"Well, I'm partial to the odd murder mystery myself," she confessed, "On a day off you know, and they are littered with weird and wonderful ways to die. Including insulin." At this Robbie perked up as she continued, "And it's a common myth that death by insulin injection makes for the perfect murder."

"But only a myth?" he asked, a little hopefully.

She frowned as she briefly pondered this, "Technically it's perfect but any pathologist worth their salt would spot the injection site at the very least."

"Such as your good self," he said, grinning.

She gave him a wry smile, "Touche, Inspector".