6 June 1990

"You're dead lucky you know," Viv said with a sigh. "I wish I had a bloke who would take me to Paris. In fact, I wish I had a bloke full stop."

Christina looked up and laughed, "What happened to the one you were seeing last month? Mark something?"

"Marcus, and that all came to a crashing end when he revealed that, surprise surprise, he's married."

"Ah."

"Ah is right," Viv shook her head. "I mean, what it is with these blokes? Why do they do it? Why do they trap unsuspecting women into liking them, caring about them, when all the time they've got a wife and kids waiting at home?"

"Kids too?"

"Three apparently and one just a few months old. You know, he tried to justify it by saying that she was off sex! I tell you, it took all I had not to brain him one."

"It's not just men who have affairs you know," Mike piped up from his desk. "Women do it too."

"Have you been caught out that way then?" Viv asked, turning to look at him. "I would have thought you'd had known better."

"Women can be just as devious as men, Viv," he replied. "And that's all I'm going to say on the subject."

"Oooh…" she turned back to Christina. "But honestly, it's pathetic. Anyone who has an affair needs their head looking at."

"Mmmm…" she mused, watching as Frank and Gordon came into the department and went straight into the former's office.

"There's one that should know."

"Who?"

"The DI," Viv said. "He's well known for it."

"He's divorced," Christina replied. "He can do what he likes, can't he?"

"Yeah, but it's no secret what he was like when he was married, Not to mention the fact that I don't think a little thing like a wedding certificate would stop Burnside going after something he wanted, do you?"

"I hadn't really thought about it," she said, looking back down at the papers in front of her and suddenly recalling Harry Grimm's words to her almost two years earlier. "I don't tend to spend much time musing over the DI's love life."

"Thank God, can you imagine?"

"Not really." It was a lie of course. There had been many a time when she had mused over Frank's love life, wondered what he was doing and who he was doing it with. It was pathetic really when she thought about it. There she was with a husband who was taking her to Paris for her birthday and she was thinking about someone else. She had barely seen Stewart over the past few days given the top secret job he appeared to be working on, but he had arrived home late last night and made it very clear what it was he needed from her. She had obliged of course but, rather ashamedly, had found her mind wandering in a way that it never had in the past. As she had lain in the darkness afterwards, listening to her husband snoring beside her, the realisation that she had only ever experienced one man her entire life had hit her. When others were talking about this bloke and that bloke, she only could ever talk about Stewart. No other man had ever touched her. No other man had ever shown any inclination towards touching her and she had never felt any inclination towards being touched by another man. Until now.

Thankfully, she was jolted out of her dangerous reverie by Frank's door opening again and he and Gordon emerging back into the main office. "Right, you lot," he said. "Button your ears back and listen."

"There was a security van robbery about half an hour ago," Gordon said. "The van had just picked up the takings from the wholesaler on Dutton Street and was heading down along Moorcroft Road when they were stopped." He moved over to a map on the wall and jabbed his finger against it." Three masked men jumped out of a blue transit van, forced the guards out of their own van and took the money at gunpoint. One of the gang took it upon himself to beat up one of the guards who's been taken to St Hughes with significant head injuries. The other guard was unhurt."

"Inside job?" Mike asked.

"That is, of course, one possibility," Gordon conceded, "but it shouldn't necessarily be the only possibility. I want to catch these bastards, but I want it done right. Frank?"

"Jim, I want you down the hospital to see what you can find out about the condition of the guard who was shot and try and get an initial statement from the one who was unhurt. Uniform are still on the scene speaking to witnesses and we need to make enquiries with the firm that provides the security. The bloke who runs it is none other than Lawrence Hastings OBE, recognised by her Majesty for his sterling charity work."

"So, we need to tread carefully on this one," Gordon added. "It'll take sensitivity and tact and not a case of us declaring an inside job before we've properly investigated."

"I'm going to go and talk to Mr Hastings," Frank said and then paused. "Viv, you can come with me. Tosh, Mike and Chris, I want you three down at the scene liaising with uniform and SOCO. We'll have a briefing back here at five. Right, that's it."

"Lucky me," Viv said, as chatter started around the room. "Burnside versus Lawrence Hastings? Should be interesting."

"Yeah, lucky you," Christina replied, her gaze still on Frank as he spoke with Gordon. In the past, he would have taken her, no questions asked, no other decision made. But he had chosen Viv, as he had done for most things of late. She couldn't help but wonder why she had been so keen to spill to him what Gordon had asked her about him when he clearly didn't seem to value her loyalty the same way that she did. "Oh, stop it," she muttered to herself. "You put this in motion and now you're being ridiculous!"

"Who's being ridiculous?" Tosh asked.

"Oh, no-one. Shall we head down there then?"

"Yeah, nothing like a good robbery to get the blood flowing, eh?"

She shook her head and smiled, "And you've got five kids."

XXXX

"I meant what I said, Frank. I want this one dealt with properly."

"Are you trying to suggest that I won't deal with it properly?"

"No, but what I don't want is you charging in there and making out to Hastings that we suspect his firm of having cocked up."

"They did cock up," Frank said. "They got robbed. The whole point of being a security firm is not to get robbed."

"I'm well aware of that," Gordon said. "But Hastings is just the sort to go to Brownlow and the press if we don't play this one right. I don't want that, and neither should you."

"If you're that worried about it, why not go and speak to him yourself? If you think I can't handle it, that is."

"That's not what I think. Just don't go marching in there and have a go at him, is all I'm saying. Softly-softly, Frank. It works wonders sometimes."

"Git," Frank swore quietly as Gordon walked out of the room back towards his office. "He's really pissing me off, you know that?"

"He's got a point though, Guv, surely?" Viv said. "We don't want Hastings creating a fuss, especially if it turns out that his firm aren't involved. Maybe you should play it soft, like he suggested."

"Are you saying you don't trust how I might handle this, Martella?" he said, turning to look at her. "You with all your vast experience of CID?"

"No, I just think the boss has got a valid point, that's all."

"Yeah, I bet you do." He made his way out of the office and down the stairs, Viv trailing behind him. "You need a bit of grit for this job, you know, a bit of oomph. You can't just always take what everyone tells you at face value."

"I know."

"Sometimes you have to put peoples' noses out of joint to get results, and that's what this is all about, getting results. You're not in uniform now, Viv, pandering to the public. This is CID. You're playing with the big boys now."

"Do you give Christina this speech every time you go out with her?"

He stopped and turned to look at her. "No, I don't have to. Chris gets it. As will you, I suppose, given time."

"If you're so keen to go barrelling in there and she would back you, why did you say you wanted to take me and not her?"

It was the eternal question and there were many different answers he could have given, but only one that was appropriate. "Because you need to learn how we do things, Viv, and what better way than to be shown by the master?"

"And you're the master are you, Guv?" she asked, as they made their way out into the yard.

"Don't tell me you're only just figuring that out, Viv. How long have you been here?"

"Long enough. But, come on Guv, Wray is the DCI."

"Meaning what?" he looked at her across the roof of the car. "Meaning we're all supposed to bow and scrape and tug our forelocks every time he comes into the room? He might be in charge of the department, but I'm the one with my finger on the pulse. Nothing happens on this manor without me knowing about it. You'll learn that too." She raised her eyebrows at him, and he found himself wishing fervently that he hadn't bothered with the niceties of appearance and had just taken Christina with him instead. "Come on, get in. We've got a fellow of the realm to go and harass."

XXXX

The sun was beating down and Christina could feel a rivulet of sweat rolling down her back as she stood in the midst of the chaos taking a statement from a woman who looked to be at least ninety. In a shaking voice she was recounting, very slowly, what she had seen which, unfortunately, didn't really amount to much. "No, thank you very much Mrs Kemp, that's been really helpful." Turning to where Tosh was standing behind her, she shook her head. "Nothing."

"Same here," he replied. "It seems like whoever it was picked a prime moment when no-one was about to see anything."

"Well, it was six am."

"But broad daylight at this time of year."

"Yeah…" she looked at the scene around them. The security van was still sitting where it had come to rest at a sharp angle, the doors open, blood on the ground by the passenger side. Moorcroft Road was a quiet street, no houses or other buildings to speak of, and open waste ground surrounding it as it led from Dutton Street towards the centre of town. "It's a bit of an odd route to choose."

"How do you mean?" Tosh asked.

"Well, it's pretty isolated out here, don't you think? It would be the perfect spot for a high jacking. You might have thought they would have taken a more populated route. Instead of coming down here, they could have turned right out of Dutton Street and onto Ferris Lane before coming out onto Pilkington Road. Lots of houses, buildings and people along that route."

"Mmmm…hopefully that's the sort of information the DI and Viv are getting right about now."

"I suppose so," she mused, her mind turning once more to the fact that she wasn't with him and wondering if he had kicked Lawrence Hastings's door in yet. She would have enjoyed that. Despite what Wray had said, she liked being aligned with him. Being out on the ground with him gave her a thrill even greater than how she felt personally towards him.

Or perhaps it was one and the same thing.

XXXX

The doe-eyed girl on the reception desk gave him a flattering smile and Frank couldn't help but size her up as he handed over his warrant card and asked if it was possible to speak to Mr Hastings. She was blonde, mid-twenties, blue eyes, perky breasts. If he thought back far enough, she reminded him a bit of how Julie had looked when they had first met in not unsimilar circumstances. She had been one of the cashiers when he had been part of a raid on an estate agent suspecting of being involved in money laundering. He had taken her statement, and, for good measure, her phone number and it had gone from there. If only he'd known then how it would all eventually turn out.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but Mr Hastings isn't here today. I can ring through to the manager, Mr Bell, and ask if he can see you?"

"Don't ask, tell him we want to see him," Frank replied, and the girl's smile broadened. She clearly liked a man with a bit of push about him. "And tell him not to be slow about it." Moving back from the desk, he turned back to Viv who shook her head. "What?"

"Why don't you just ask her out while you're at it," she said.

"What, her? No thanks."

"Too young for you, Guv?"

"Age is just a number, Viv, as you should know. No…" he glanced over his shoulder. "She looks like a bit of a bunny boiler to me. You know, the type you go to bed with to have a good time and then end up having to shoot when she comes flying out of your bathtub one night."

"Commitment isn't you for then, Guv?" Viv smiled.

"No, it isn't." He turned back as a door opened at the far end of the corridor and a tall man in an expensive suit walked towards them. "I take it you must be the manager."

"Thomas Bell, yes," he extended his hand. "And you are?"

"DI Burnside, Sun Hill CID. This is WDC Martella. We'd like to talk to you about the robbery of one of your vans this morning."

"Yes, terrible business," Thomas said, "please do come through." He led them down a corridor and into a large plush office before gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. "Please. How can I help you, inspector?"

"Well, we were hoping to speak to Mr Hastings."

"I'm afraid Mr Hastings doesn't work out of the office as a routine."

"But he is in charge."

"He's the owner of the company, yes, but I oversee all the day to day business."

"Then you're in charge of organising all the deliveries?" Frank asked, as Viv pulled out her notebook.

"Well, no I don't organise them personally. We have under-managers for that. They control a team, organise the routes, check that everything has gone smoothly, that sort of thing."

"And how many of these under-managers do you have?"

"Ten in total."

"That's a lot."

"We're a large operation. If you want to know who was in charge of the team involved in today's robbery, then the man you're looking to speak to is James Grant."

"And is Mr Grant working today?"

"Yes, he's downstairs in fact. Today was his day off but he came in when he heard the news. He was in quite a state too. He knows both the guards well."

"Do you know the guards?" Frank asked.

"Not as well as he does, I'm afraid, but it was Peter Simpson and Brian Quinn who were on the delivery I understand," Thomas said, checking some papers on his desk. "Both fairly experienced. I'm really not sure what more I can tell you, personally."

"Is Mr Hastings aware of what's happened?" Viv asked.

"Yes, of course, he was told immediately. But he's in Spain at the moment."

"I see," Frank got to his feet. "Well, thank you for help Mr Bell. We'd like to speak to Mr Grant now, if that's not too much trouble."

"No, of course, whatever we can do to help," Thomas replied. "Please just ask Jenny at the desk. She'll be able to direct you."

"Thank you." As they made their way back along the corridor, his radio crackled, and Jim's voice came across the air. "Go ahead, Jim."

"Update from St Hughes, Guv. The guard who was assaulted, Brian Quinn, died ten minutes ago."

"Received." He turned back to Viv. "Well, that changes things a bit now, doesn't it?"

XXXX

"How are things going?" Gordon asked as Christina and Tosh arrived back at the office. "Did you get anywhere with the witnesses?"

"Nobody saw anything, sir, at least nothing useful," she replied. "Given the time of day and the location, I suppose it's not surprising."

"Mmmm…" Gordon mused. "From what I gather Moorcroft Road isn't that well populated."

"Not at all. In fact, it's quite remote."

"An interesting choice then for the van to take."

"I think so."

"Tosh?"

"I agree, sir. It would have made more sense, safety wise, to go a different way."

"So, do you both have an opinion then on who might be involved in this?"

"Well, it does smell a bit like an inside job," Christina replied. "But we've no evidence of that at the moment."

"No," Gordon said. "Carver called from the hospital to say that the guard who was beaten up has pegged it."

"Did he get anything out of the other one?"

"Not had a chance to talk to him yet, apparently. Have either of you heard anything from the DI?"

"No sir," Tosh replied. "Not yet."

"Well, we'll just have to see what he comes up with." Gordon turned at the sound of the phone ringing from his office. "Excuse me."

"He likes being kept in the loop, doesn't he?" Tosh observed when they were alone. "I'm surprised he didn't insist on going to the scene himself."

"I suppose it's a change from Conway's hands-off approach, not that he didn't have enough other things to take up his time." She paused. "I wonder why one of the guards was assaulted and the other wasn't."

"Maybe he tried to make a move, play the hero."

"Maybe…or maybe the other one was an inside man and, as a result, got away without injury. But it's a bit extreme when you think about it. You would think they would want to rough him up a bit, just to make it look real."

"Or…" Tosh opined, "the guard who got done over was the inside man and the gang wanted to make sure he wouldn't be able to talk."

"Yeah, could be. I wonder what both their backgrounds are? How long they'd been working for the firm, whether they had any records, that sort of thing."

Tosh chuckled, "Stay in your own lane, Chris."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, the DI and Viv are looking into that angle, aren't they? We were tasked with speaking to witnesses."

"Yeah, which we've done and got nothing from." She shook her head. "There must be something else we can do."

"Well, we can check if there's any CCTV in the area surrounding the wholesalers and maybe check with other local businesses to see if any of them had deliveries around the same time. We might get something."

"True."

"It can't all be kicking doors down and nicking villains, you know."

She looked over at him, "You know, Alistair said that to me once too."

"You're too like the DI sometimes, desperate to be at the sharp end."

"What does…?"

"Christina…"

Turning she saw Gordon standing behind her, his face pale, his expression troubled and she felt a cold sense of fear suddenly fill her. He was looking at her in the way someone looked at a person when they were about to deliver some kind of bad news. Immediately, her thoughts went to Frank. Something had happened down at the security firm. He had been hurt or taken hostage by a bent security guard or…

"What is it?" she asked, feeling her heart pound in her chest, ignoring the obvious fact that if something had happened to Frank, Gordon wouldn't be telling her solely.

"I've…just had DCI Baker from the Drugs Squad on the phone," Gordon said, moving across the room towards her.

"DCI Baker? Alan Baker?" Gordon nodded. "What…I mean…?"

"I'm afraid it's Stewart. He was on a job earlier this morning and…and things turned nasty. He's been shot and he's in critical condition at St Hughes."

XXXX

"Mr Grant, I'm not quite sure why you're being difficult about this," Frank said, pacing in front of the man in question who was sat nursing a mug of coffee. "I'm only asking you questions about the organisation of the delivery."

"And I'm trying to answer," James replied, "but this has been a horrible morning for me, horrible."

"I don't think it's been a particularly great morning for Mr Simpson and Mr Quinn either."

"I know…Lord, I know…"

"So, what can you tell me then about the organisation of the delivery?"

"Nothing. I mean…it was normal. Everything was normal."

"So, Mr Simpson and Mr Quinn regularly went out on runs together?"

"Uh, well, no, not exactly."

Frank stopped and turned to him. "What do you mean, not exactly?"

"Well, they'd had a bit of a ruck in the past, Peter and Brian, and they hadn't been paired up for a while."

"What was the ruck about?"

"I don't know, and I didn't ask. It was nothing to do with the job though. It was something personal. All I know is, I was asked not to put them together."

"By whom?"

"Mr Bell."

"So why were they together today then?"

"I've been short staffed," James spread his hands. "It's summer and people are away on holiday and I've been left with a skeleton staff and I had nobody else to do the run with Brian."

"So, it was Brian Quinn's run," Viv said.

"Yes, he always does the wholesale run, every week."

"And who does he usually partner up with?"

"Nicky Dempsey, but he's on holiday, like I said."

"So, what was the reaction from the two of them when you partnered them up?"

"Well, they only found out about this morning, see, as I was trying to find someone else to go with Brian. When I told him, he was pretty wound up about it, but he accepted it. Peter didn't say much."

"I see…" Frank mused. "And you've no idea what the aggro between them was about?"

"No. I mean, maybe you could ask Brian's wife, Shirley, she might know. Him and Peter were friends before."

"I assume you've got addresses?"

James sighed and got to his feet. "Give me a minute and I'll fetch them for you."

"So," Viv said when they were alone again. "It was personal."

"Yeah…two guards who don't get on are paired together and get robbed. Coincidence?" His radio crackled again before she could answer.

"DCI Wray to DI Burnside, over."

"Burnside receiving, over."

"I need you back at the station, Frank, ASAP, over."

He rolled his eyes. "Is it urgent? Only we've got some information here that we need to follow up on, over."

"Yes, it's urgent. I need you back here now, over."

"Received." He slid his radio back into his pocket as James reappeared with a scrap of paper. "Thank you, Mr Grant, you've been very helpful."

"Where now then, Guv," Viv asked, as they emerged back outside the building. "Back to the station?"

"No," he waved the paper at her. "We need to go and speak to the next of kin, find out what we can about this argument between Simpson and Quinn."

"But the DCI said…"

"I know what the DCI said," he looked at her hard. "Something else you'll need to work out Viv and that's who's firm you're on, mine or his."

"It's one and the same, surely."

"No," he shook his head, thinking that Christina would have understood. "No, it isn't."