As they approached the first of the suspects houses, new WPC Carlisle could feel her stomach drop through the floor of the Cortina; she recognised this road. She remembered all of the times not so long ago, walking pass row upon row of terraced housing. She could almost still hear the shrill wails of the undernourished cats and children alike, some scrounging the dustbins to find their next meal.

It was difficult to even try and find a nice thing about Manchester's bleak street, Blackpool Road. Known very well amongst CID, it was the common place late night on a Saturday to find binge drinkers, stinking of ever type of ale ever invented, passed out in the middle of the road without a second thought for the safety of themselves or others.

"Which 'ouse is this one?" Gene barked out, staring over at Sam and Casey in turn.

DI Tyler grabbed his notebook from his jacket pocket. "According to DC Cartwright, this is the Bolton residence."

"'Ow are things going between you and the plonk?" the Gov asked in a semi-snide fashion; he was trying to be interested rather than nosey but somehow, his voice just didn't live up to his expectations.

As the car jolted to a halt, Casey's head shot up; had she just heard what her Father said correctly?

Sam rolled his eyes but the young woman could see his face soften just a little at the mention of the other woman's name. "That 'plonks' name is Annie and things are going ok, thanks for the concern."

Casey's eyes tapered, albeit just a little; she had no idea that Cartwright and Sam were...an item. Sure, she seen the subtle yet flirtatious glances across the office, the way he always stood up for her. How could she have not have known?

"Glad to 'ear it," Gene mumbled sarcastically, leading his two troops over to the door of the first victim. To be honest, the Governor had no idea what he would do if it turned out not to be them. He was just so damn sure there was a link there; his gut was telling him so.

Casey followed her bosses, trying to forget about the recent revelations; there would be no point in adding that to her ever expanding pile of angst.

They made their way over to the porch owned by the Bolton's, each officer stood in a lack of awe for a few moments.

"Looks like a right dump!" Gene grumbled, shaking his head.

Sam inhaled, trying to keep his cool. "Yes, well, your house isn't exactly Buckingham Palace, is it?"

Gene's shoulders pushed back, his chest heaving forward. "Never insult a King's castle, Tyler!" he warned, thumping against the door. He wasn't about to stand on ceremony for anyone and he wanted to make sure Mark Bolton knew it.

As they continued to wait for several minutes, the Gov's patience grew even thinner. "You don't think this is one of those rare occasions where he got his arse into gear and bothered going to school do you?"

"I doubt it." Casey sneered, surprised at her own civility. From what she did know about Bolton, she certainly didn't like and had less of a desire to see him than many people could imagine (that was the impression she was giving, at least).

After a few more moments of waiting around, just as the Gov was considering turning around and carrying on with the case elsewhere, a shaggy looking figure appeared behind the door frame, head barely combed and only just visible.

"Erm, can I 'elp you?"

The rugged yet uncharismatic voice of the wayward teen was barely above a mumble with sleep thickly covering it like a King sized duvet.

Sam grabbed his badge, thrusting it in the face of the youth in a bid for him to see it. "DI Tyler with DCI Hunt and WPC Carlisle. Have you got a few minutes?"

Bolton squinted at the officer's code, fearing that he had little choice other than offering them inside. He recognised the blonde at the back, and the blonde at the front.

"You're that bastard who fitted me up a year ago!"

"Oh 'appy days!" Gene spoke, his voice becoming elated as he shoved past the 'offender' without even a hint of an invitation into the house.

Sam motioned for Casey to follow him. She hid her face behind her fringe, unsure of how long she'd actually be able to keep her identity concealed. She reluctantly accepted that sooner or later she'd be recognised by Bolton, hoping that his lack of alertness would make him forget her name.

Mark followed the Gov into the living room where the officer was seemingly making himself comfortable. With his somewhat muddy, tainted white loafers resting on the coffee table and several cushions propping himself up, he sighed as if it was a familiar environment to him. It was as if he was back in his own home, waiting for the Missus to get him some supper. "So, you gonna offer us a drink or what, Bolton?"

His face turned a shade or two lighter with shock, the effects of sleep finally beginning to wear off. "Get yer mucky feet of me Mum's table! If she get's 'ome, she'll 'ave a fit!"

"I can tell that you don't 'ave many guests round, do you Bolton?" Gene responded, taking a fresh packet of cigarettes from his top pocket.

"Please, Sir, I asked you nicely..."

"Oh stop being such a tart and get us summats to drink!"

Defeated (at least for the time being), Mark wondered off into the kitchen as Sam and Casey took the sign of Gene's rather petulant mood to be a warning and to be seated, almost quickly.

"Gov, take your feet off his table."

Gene eyed Sam with suspicion. "Since when 'ave you cared about folk's old 'anded down tables?"

"He did ask you nicely, that's all."

"I'm trying to decide who sounds like the bigger fairy - you or twinkle toes in there!"

Casey stiffened, seeing Bolton glaring at her with her sharp, dagger like blue eyes. He looked away, returning seconds later, clutching a tray with steaming hot yet incredibly weak coffee in a chipped pot.

His hands, a little shaken, managed to place the cups and sugar down, gesturing for the officers to help themselves as and when they wanted to.

Sam, fearing it was too early for a proper drink, gladly accepted, gazing over at WPC Carlisle. She hastily declined, her Boss deciding to sit back down.

"You not gonna offer me one, Dorothy?"

Sam smirked. "You're big enough and ugly enough to get one yourself."

'He didn't call me ugly,' Casey silently thought to herself. 'That must mean...'

"What are you doing round 'ere, may I ask?"

Gene was slightly surprised by the bastard's inquisitiveness, thinking that he was only asking as a way to get them out of his way (not likely).

"When was the last time you attended school, Mr. Bolton?" Sam jumped in, before the Governor could say something too rash to be helpful.

"Well, not yesterday but I did the day before that," for a moment, the lad was put off by Gene's grunting and face like an aging bulldog; pissed off because of inactivity and necessity. "Why? Are you here to check up on my attendance record?"

"No, you bloody dipshit!" Gene vented, nearly choking on his fag ash. "Why would I send my officer's out for a stupid little thing like that?"

"We're not exactly Community Support Officers," Sam mumbled, already getting bored with Gene's blatantly bias questioning.

The other three present looked at him as if he was mad.

"Anyway, there was a break in at your school the other night. We just wondered if..."

"No, no, no!" Mark cried, jumping from his seat, his hands shrouding his ears. "What is it wiv you lot thinking that I'm always up to no good?"

"Calm down Mr. Bolton," Sam urged, standing up in an attempt to be diplomatic. "We were just shifting through our files yesterday and noticed you'd been in a bit of bother before..."

"Yeah, sit down and shut up," Gene spoke. "Stop pretending there are fire works spiralling up your arse, it's not the fifth of November!"

"No!" he yelled, pacing as his face became red, enraged. "You're not gonna fit me up again like you did last time!"

"Nobody's saying you did it," Sam attempted to be the voice of reason. "It would just be helpful if you sat down and answered the questions."

Mark gave him a suspicious look, tossing it between the two males and his former peer.

"If you've got nothing to hide than that's it. We'll leave and carry on our investigation elsewhere."

"Promise?"

Sam nodded, waiting until the younger man took his place once again before returning to his seat. He spied him, running unsteady hands through greasy hair, barely maintaining eye contact. Even the logic of Sam was coming round to the idea that Bolton knew more than he was letting on.

Gene straightened himself, peeved that he had to move to get his own drink, a shite one at that. "So then, Marky Boy, you never did tell us where you were that night of the burglary."

"You never asked!"

His defensiveness was both curious and unnerving for Casey; she had known Bolton long enough to know exactly when he was hiding something. Their eyes caught for a second, snagging uncomfortably as if on barbed wire before she turned away, flustered.

"Ok then, Mr. Bolton; where were you this past Tuesday night?" Sam quizzed, his patience beginning to wear ice thin.

"I was at 'ome, all night."

"Can anyone act as your alibi?" DI Tyler persisted, scribbling in his notebook. Mark gave him a confused glance, as if the officer was speaking in a completely foreign language. "Can anyone confirm that you were here all night?

"No. Me mam was out."

"Anybody else, what about your father?"

"I don't 'ave one, never met 'im."

Tyler shook his head, annoyed at himself for asking such a ridiculously personal question. "Sorry," he uttered, rubbing a hand over his weary eyes.

Casey swallowed trying not to become agitated. She'd never felt such a tense atmosphere in her life; you could saw through it like a chainsaw through semi-melted butter.

"I'm afraid that isn't good enough," Gene piped up, plonking his cup back on the table. "And I'm not just on about your coffee making!"

"I'm afraid that without an alibi, mate, you are still a potential suspect," Sam sighed heavily, noting the hopelessness embedded on Mark's face. "Why weren't you at school yesterday?"

Trying to cover his tracks without making it look like he'd prepared his response, Mark took a breath, his hands resting against the back of his neck. "I was feelin' ill. I 'adn't slept properly coz that night I'd 'ad a bit of food poisoning. With my mam being out and everything, I 'ad to cook for meself."

"With all due respects Mr. Bolton, if it had been food poisoning of any great level, you'd still be feeling nauseous today."

"But I am, that's why I was still in bed when you arrived, you see."

The Gov was getting fed up with his Inspector's softy softy approach. "So, 'ave you got a Doctor's note?"

"No, not yet."

"Well, as far as I'm concerned, you are still a potential thieving scumbag until results prove otherwise," Gene concluded, standing to his feet. He knew when he was wasting his time and this was one of the many occasions.

"You can't just accuse me of anything just coz I 'aven't got a quacks note or me mam's seal of approval."

"Oh but I just 'ave," Gene smirked, "We'll see ourselves out. If you do want to stop playing silly bastards, I think you are more than aware of where the station is by now, ok? Good lad!"

With a pat on the shoulders, Gene marched back to the Cortina, starting the Cortina up whilst waiting for the others to join him.

Sam turned to the Governor for a split second, oblivious to Mark and Casey's peculiar gazes at one another. He was aware that they were familiar with each other because they attended the same school. Yet, there was something about the two of them that just didn't add up; the way their eyes always made spiteful yet bizarrely amiable expressions. The way they seemed more than a little familiar to one another but Casey avoiding him for fear of being hurt once again, or at least seemingly.

"Right, well, you heard what DCI Hunt said, Mr. Bolton. If you do happen to hear anything, we'd appreciate it if you let us know, ok?"

"Ok well I doubt whether we'll have much to do wiv each other," Mark spoke, slamming the door. It was as if he really couldn't wait for the two of them to disappear from his mum's house for good.

They stood on the porch for a few moments, taking in the last ten minutes. It had been a complete waste of time. Yet for Casey it had been much more than that; it had been the ripping open of old wounds.

And Sam wasn't the only one to notice it.

Thank you to sparks733 for reviewing my last chapter - sorry the update was a little longer than usual!

Please review and check back for more, soon!