Chapter 2

Neil's POV

It's been six weeks since my entire life was torn apart; six weeks of mayhem, despair and loneliness. The old saying 'you don't know what you've got till it's gone' rings true here, for me at least. Although under the circumstances I can't share any of my thoughts and feelings with anybody.

Only a couple of people were aware of the true nature of my relationship with Andrea Dunbar, and of those few people, not one of them had any idea how serious things between us had become. Before the fire and her undercover expose, we had agreed to move in together. I had got to the point where I was ready and willing to leave my wife, and move in with the love of my life. If she was still here, I would be doing just that. With everything that's happened and all the struggles of the past couple of weeks, I realised that none of that really matters, if only she was still here I am sure we could have made things work.

It was the worst day of my life when I found out she had been killed in the fire last week, she wasn't even supposed to be in there so how could this have happened. Remembering the last couple of conversations we had, about her big scoop is what eventually pulled me out of the black hole of depression I had sunk into. I made it my mission to uncover what she was secretly working on and finish off what she had started. If there is one important lesson I learned from her; determination, really is the key to success.

I started by finding out who she had been talking to and working with recently. Using the spare key to her flat that she gave to me a while back, that I had all but forgotten about, I let myself into her apartment in the hopes of finding something hidden away somewhere. I knew I had to be careful, MIT and uniform would be conducting a search of her property as part of their investigation into the fire; and my fingerprints and DNA would be all over the place, as was the message I left on her answerphone.

I debated deleting it, but that would only put further suspicion on me. I would just have to come up with a simple excuse to explain away the message, the Superintendent is already aware I was seeing her; I can't afford to do anything else to cause him to doubt my professionalism. It would be expected to find at least a few fingerprints and things, so I decide to leave the few items of mine that are hidden away in the wardrobe and drawers right where they are. Right now the only thing I am interested in is her research and any information and evidence of what she was working on, only then can I complete what she started and so determinedly worked on, all without telling a soul.

It's whilst I'm nosing around that an idea comes to me, although potentially putting me in a more awkward situation than I already am, it was what we were planning anyway. It would give me more time to work on my secret mission if I simply moved in here. It would be easy to pretend that I had moved in a few weeks previously, looking around I realise I almost had anyway. The majority of my most important possessions are already at home in her flat, and other than the difficulties we faced during the last few weeks, I was here a lot more often than I was ever at home.

After the fire, somehow Phillipa found out about our affair and all but kicked me out of the house. I'm not sure how she found out exactly; maybe I said something without realising. I was and still am an emotional wreck, the big, bad DI who is supposedly as cold as ice, broken by losing the one person I truly loved. I've thrown myself into my work, to hide the depression and grief, I can't even share how I feel with anyone because we had to keep everything a big secret, and with that newspaper article, revealing the truth now, would put me in a very difficult situation.

In the past couple of weeks, my whole life has been turned upside down, and not in a good way. Focusing on work is the only thing that is getting me through the days. Well that and my secret mission. Even with the newspaper article and knowing she lied to me for so long, I can understand her reasons, to protect me from the possible fallout and I know deep down in her heart she believed in what she was doing, not to harm Sun Hill, but to help solve crimes. If she was still here she had all the makings of a good officer, her investigative skills were well in advance of her rank, it's just a shame that it was all under the wrong circumstances. There is no point in dwelling on what could have been, I quickly realise, returning to the task at hand.

With a renewed sense of urgency, I search the flat for the information I need, knowing that the search team won't have a clue on where to look or even what to look for. I will have to wait until they are done with their investigation to move in properly I realise, so I'm still going to be stuck in the hotel for a bit longer.

Eventually I find it, hidden in a shoe box at the back of the wardrobe, behind a secret panel, is a black, leather bound notebook and multiple newspaper clippings. Removing them from their hidden location, I sit down on the bed and leaf through the information, just about able to read her handwriting. The information I find is shocking. Flicking back to earlier pages I find notes on those previous news articles and am sort of relieved to find she was telling me the truth that night in my office when I first discovered her secret identity.

In all of the notes, it proves she barely used any of the inside information I shared with her, and her articles were aimed at putting Sun Hill in a good light, not the other way around. Obviously it was Bruce Malcolm who was responsible for twisting her words and making Sun Hill look bad.

I consider showing the notebook to Superintendent Okaro, but then realise that I will be putting myself in the firing line for doing so. She's not here anymore so there is really no point in getting myself into trouble to clear her name. What's been done can't be undone.

It's the newest pages in the book that shock me the most. So this is what she was working on. PC Gabriel Kent, secret identities, him knowing the sniper. How many other crimes is he responsible for? What is the final piece of evidence she was waiting to get? Is that the reason she was still in the station? I need to talk to Smithy, I realise. That must have been where she was getting her information from. Maybe I misread that situation all wrong. Was she just using him to get information, the same information I wrongly accused her of trying to get by getting close to me? I'm such an idiot.

Putting the notebook back in the box and hiding the evidence of my rummaging around, I take the small box with me and hide it in my car. After securing the flat I return to the station, intent on finding Smithy and finding out what the hell is going on.

Pausing in the makeshift front office, I realise I need to tread carefully if I want to do this; charging in like a bull is not going to help. I am surprised to be pulled aside by MIT almost straight away and am glad I left the shoebox, well hidden in my car.

I am led to an interview room by one of the MIT officers and am reassured that they only have a couple of questions to help them with putting together a timeline of events.

Inside the room I sit anxiously, knowing I need to watch what I'm saying if I don't want the truth to come out.

"As you know, several people lost their lives in the fire last week and we are just trying to piece together a timeline of events. It's been noted that you took an hour of personal time shortly before the fire. Can I ask you why that was and where you were exactly?"

"There were a couple of personal issues I needed to sort out," I confess vaguely.

"You will need to give us more than that, this is a murder investigation," the other officer prompts me.

"Off the record," I confirm, "I'd had a disagreement with someone shortly before the shift and it was playing on my mind. I took an hour out to go and sort it out. I was nowhere near the station at the time of the explosion and I had no idea anything had happened until I returned back here."

"Can I ask who that was and what the argument was about?" the MIT officer asks me.

"I would prefer not to share that information," I try, knowing that it will cause them to become even more suspicious and regretting the words as soon as I've spoken them.

"Do I need to remind you that this is a murder investigation? Everything is relevant at this point; I can understand you trying to protect someone, but we really need you to be totally honest with us right now. If it's not relevant to the investigation, we will ensure anything you say stays between us."

I let out a deep sigh, knowing I am going to have to reveal the secret I've been hiding for so long. "Ok," I begin, "You saw the newspaper article from the other day? About the undercover reporter?"

"Yes," the MIT officer confirms, "an Andrea Dunbar, I believe her name was, she was one of the victims of the fire."

"She never should have been anywhere near the station," I state loudly, before reigning myself in. "I'd been seeing her socially for several weeks before the article came out; naturally when I saw the article, I was angry she had been lying to me, hiding her true identity. I said some not so pleasant things in our last conversation and I felt bad about it. I wanted to apologize and clear the air, make the situation right. I went to her flat and tried to get her to talk to me; I sat outside on the steps for close to an hour before I got a phone call informing me about the fire and I rushed back here. Somehow I just knew she was inside somehow, even though she should have been escorted off the premises hours ago. Call it a gut instinct. I would like to ask that this stays between us though as nobody here really knew we ever had any interactions outside of work and under the circumstances you can see how that could put me in a difficult situation right?"

"That's understandable, and nothing you say here will be shared with anyone else. I just have a couple more questions. You said that you interacted socially outside of work, did you know about her being an undercover reporter?"

"No, I had no idea until I saw the article. It was as much a shock to me as everyone else, probably more so actually."

"You had no idea at all?"

"None whatsoever," I lie carefully. "Like everyone else, I was shocked and angry. We argued about it before her last shift; she assured me that her intentions were never to hurt anyone, or paint the station in a bad light; it took me a few hours to calm down enough to see the situation rationally, but by then I was too late. It's been haunting me ever since. I was too wrapped up in my own problems to see the truth."

"Ok, DI Manson, that will be all for now, but we may need to ask you more questions at another time."

I escaped from the interview glad I didn't have to reveal how serious our relationship had become. I am also more anxious than ever to find out what evidence she had found shortly before she died. Could it be related to the fire in some way? I hope not.