7 February 1991

"Christ, it's cold," Viv said, shivering. "We might even get more snow at this rate."

"Don't say that," Christina replied. "We had enough of it at the tail end of the year." She looked around the park from the vantage point on the bench. "It's certainly busy enough."

"Yeah, well the schools are out for the day. Where else do you take your kids to burn off some energy before bedtime."

"Mmmm…" It was the third day that they had been at the park, the third day that Viv had managed to persuade her sister to 'lend' them her niece to give them an excuse to be there, on the look out for the pervert responsible for the attacks on Sally and Jodie. So far, nobody fitting the description had made themselves known. "I don't know, maybe we've scared him off with all the posters. I mean, if he comes in here, one of the first things he's going to see is his face plastered on every lamppost."

"This was your idea," Viv said, "remember?"

"I know and it seemed like a good one at the time." She thought back on how she had persuaded both Frank and Kim that it might be their only option. Kim had been sceptical, worried about placing a child in harm's way and the subsequent legal wrangles that could bring, but she had managed to convince her. Three days in, however, and she was becoming less confident. "I suppose we have to just hope that his need to touch up a child is greater than his fear about being recognised."

"Maybe he's moved on someplace else. There's no shortage of parks in London."

"No, he's going to come to his local."

"When did you get a psychology degree?" Viv laughed and then paused. "What about that bloke over there?"

Christina followed her gaze to where a man wearing a dark jacket was entering the park from the far side. "He's got a kid with him," she observed as a small boy ran in front of him."

"Well maybe our attacker isn't a weirdo. Maybe he's a family man himself, with his own kids."

A shiver ran through her at the thought. "You don't tend to want to believe that men who abuse children could be fathers themselves."

"No, but it takes all sorts." Viv paused again. "No, it's not him, is it?"

Christina shook her head, "He looks too young." She shivered again. "Do you want another coffee?"

"Yeah, go on then."

Getting to her feet, she made her way across the park to the small mobile coffee van that was parked at the far end. It sold all the usual things, hot drinks, cold drinks, biscuits and sweets. A perfect money pit. Pete, the man who ran it, gave her a smile as she approached. "Needing warmed up?"

"Something like that," she replied. "Two coffees with milk and sugar please."

"You seem to like this park," he commented as he made the drinks. "You and your friend have been here every day this week so far."

"Well, her niece likes it and it's the only chance we get to have a conversation in peace."

"You'd better keep an eye on her, what with this bloke going around causing mischief."

She paused as he handed her the change. "Have you seen anyone that looks like him?"

"Well, you see all sorts round here, don't you?" Pete paused. "I probably have seen him. The police spoke to me a few days ago after the first girl was attacked, asked me to keep a look out but…I haven't seen anything suspicious."

"I suppose it's everyone's civic duty to keep an eye out," she said, lifting the cups. "Thanks again."

"You're welcome. I'll tell my brother-in-law to keep an eye out too."

"Your brother-in-law?"

"Yeah, he helps out in the van from time to time when I'm busy or away on holiday. He's very observant, is our Graham. I'm sure if anyone would see anything, it would be him."

Keen to ask further questions, but not wanting to give away her identity, she turned and headed back over to the bench. "I take it uniform spoke to the bloke in the coffee van," she said, sitting back down.

"I would assume so," Viv said. "Nothing came back to say he was dodgy or anything."

"He just told me that his brother-in-law works the van for him sometimes, bloke called Graham. I wonder if anyone spoke to him?"

"Worth a shot I suppose," Viv sipped her coffee. "Want me to go and phone in and check?"

"No, it's fine," Christina said. "I'll do it. Be back in a second." Cradling her cup in her cold hands, she moved away from the bench along to the entrance to the park to where there was a phone box on the corner. Just as she was about to pull open the door, she heard someone call her name and, turning, found herself face to face with Stewart.

"Fancy seeing you here," he said by way of greeting, his hands thrust deeply into his pockets.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her tone sharper than intended.

"Sorry, I didn't realise there were certain areas I wasn't allowed to go."

"No, sorry…" she shook her head. "I'm just surprised to see you, that's all."

"I've just been to a meeting," he said. "I was in the area, and it was the closest one so…"

"Oh." She found she didn't quite know what to say to that, though she assumed it should be something encouraging. "Well, that's good. I'm glad you're still on the wagon."

"Yeah, it's not easy, but I'm getting there. Anyway, what are you doing out here?"

"I'm…on enquiries."

"The pervert in the park? I heard your DCI on the radio the other day." He shook his head. "Nasty business."

"Yeah, it is."

"Well…" he shuffled his feet. "I'd best be going. Take care."

"Oh…Stewart?" he stopped and turned back to face her. "The flowers you sent were very nice, thank you." His face brightened and she felt her heart sink slightly at the impression she might have given him.

"I remembered you liked roses."

"Yes." An awkward silence followed, and she found herself sorry she had called him back and desperate for him now to leave. "Well, I should…"

"Ok, good to see you," he said. "Bye Chris."

"Bye." She watched him walk away from her and cross the street, turning back once to lift his arm in greeting. It seemed slightly coincidental that he should turn up at the park where she was working and, yet, she had no idea whether or not AA meetings were held in the area. She could only assume they were and who was she to say where he should or shouldn't go? Stepping into the phone box, she lifted the receiver and dialled the station's number, well aware that work had to come first.

XXXX

"Graham Marsden," Frank looked down at the card Reg had given him. "Yeah, he's got previous for petty thieving, minor assault and, get this, indecent exposure."

"When was that?"

"Two years ago. Nothing recent." He paused. "You said he works on the coffee van?"

"Apparently when the owner's busy or away on holiday."

"What about the dates of the attacks?"

"I didn't want to tell him who I was, so I never asked."

"Right, go back there, show him your warrant card and ask him about those dates. I'll send Jim and Mike round to sit outside his house in case his brother-in-law decides to warn him you've been asking.

"Guv."

He replaced the receiver and walked around his desk into the office. "Jim, Michael, I want you to go down to 115 Mayburn Gardens and sit outside."

"What for?" Jim asked.

"The occupier should be one Graham Marsden. He's in the frame for these attacks as he apparently sometimes works in the coffee van at the park. Chris is going to talk to the owner, his brother-in-law, and I don't want him putting the wind up him once she has. If he makes a run for it, nick him."

"Guv," they chorused, lifting their coats and heading out the door.

"Progress?" Kim asked, appearing suddenly behind him.

"Yes Ma'am. We may have a lead on a suspect. Jim and Mike are going to go and sit outside his house while Chris talks to his brother-in-law."

"Sounds promising."

"I hope so."

"Good. I want to catch this bloke, Frank."

"We all do, Ma'am." He turned away as the phone on his desk starting ringing, relieved for the distraction. "Burnside."

"Sir, it's June. I'm at the front desk and there's someone here asking to speak to you."

"Oh yeah, who?"

"Stewart Church."

"Come again?"

"It's Stewart Church." He paused, the receiver stuck to his ear. Why on earth was Church there? He had asked for him specifically…did he know something? Had Christina said something to him? "Sir, you there?"

"Uh, yes…yes I'm here. Stick him in the front office and I'll be right down." Slowly, he put the phone down and then took a deep breath before heading for the stairs. Whatever Stewart wanted, whatever he wanted to level at him, he would need to stay calm; stay calm and deny everything.

"Making a bit of a habit of this aren't you?" he said, stepping inside the interview room and closing the door behind him.

"I know, I'm sure it looks that way," Stewart replied, and Frank found himself taken aback by not only his politeness, but also his look of sincerity. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with me. I know we haven't always gotten along in the past."

"I reckon that's an understatement, don't you?"

"Yes, I suppose so." Stewart pulled out one of the chairs and sat down before looking up at him expectantly. Although the last thing he wanted to do was engage in polite conversation with the man, he felt duty bound to follow suit. "I'm sure you can guess why I'm here."

"Well, I've got a fair idea."

"It's about…well, me and Chris. You'll obviously know that we're separated."

"It has come up, yes."

"I can understand why she's done it," Stewart looked down at the table, "I haven't exactly made life easy for her over the last few months since I was shot but…I suppose I never expected her to walk away. Or, at least, I thought if she ever did, I would be able to persuade her to come back. We share a long history, you know, been together for years."

Frank bit his tongue, desperate to tell the other man where to go and yet morbidly curious as to why he was there at all.

"Anyway…I know I've made a bit of a mess of things; she's moved out and…well…I know that she thinks a lot of you and…"

"Does she?" He asked the question somewhat rhetorically, given it was plainly obvious she thought a lot of him, particularly in light of how eagerly she had orgasmed in his bed the previous night, and yet Stewart nodded as though there was no hidden subtext.

"Yes. I mean, I know you had your differences at the beginning, but she respects you and I just wondered…well, I wondered if she had said anything to you about me and, well, maybe if you had talked about it and whether she…perhaps…well, had said how she feels…if you know what I mean?"

"You're asking me if she's talked to me about her relationship with you?" It seemed almost comical.

"Well, yes." Stewart blinked. "I know I did things that I shouldn't have when I was drinking. You would have been well within your rights to arrest me that night in the pub and, well, I'm grateful that you didn't."

"I only didn't because of her, not because of you."

"I know that. Look, the truth is, I want her back. I want things to go back to the way they were. I've started getting sober, I've seen where I went wrong, I'm trying to get another job…all the things I know she would want me to do and I just wondered if she had ever given you any inkling about whether or not, if I did all those things, she might reconsider the divorce."

"And you think you had a model marriage before you got shot, do you?"

"Does anyone? Did you?"

"No, that's why I'm divorced."

"I don't want to be divorced. I want to stay married to her. I want to try and rebuild the life we had together, whether you think it was a model marriage or not. We were happy."

Again, Frank found himself biting his tongue, Stewart's definition of happy clearly different from his wife's. "I don't know what you expect me to tell you. She doesn't exactly confide in me about these sorts of things. I'm her boss."

"I know that."

"And even if she did, I could hardly tell you."

"No, I suppose not." Stewart sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I know I'm putting you in a difficult position. I just thought…I suppose I never realised what it would be like to be without her, never thought I'd ever have to experience it." He paused and looked up again. "I know I shouldn't ask this, whether you know the answer or not, but…"

"But what?"

"Do you know if…well…if there's someone else? I mean, I suppose I couldn't blame her but…" he trailed off again.

He almost wanted to laugh. There Stewart was, asking him if he knew if Christina was seeing anyone else when all the time…he wanted to tell him. Wanted to say, 'yes and it's me', wanted to tell him about how many times he had stripped the clothes from his wife's body and taken her to bed, wanted to tell him that he loved her, and she loved him, wanted to see the look on his face at the realisation of the truth. But he also knew that Christina would likely never forgive him and that, being the unencumbered party, it wasn't his secret to share with her husband. Not to mention the fact that he wouldn't trust the other man not to make things official if he knew. "I don't know," he said finally.

Stewart nodded resignedly. "Thanks anyway. I'm sorry to have taken up your time. I realise you must be busy, what with that pervert on the loose."

"Let's just say it's keeping us occupied," he replied, getting to his feet.

"I saw her earlier, down by the park."

"Who?"

"Chris."

He paused, "What were you doing down by the park?"

"I was at an AA meeting. I just happened to see her going to make a phone call." Stewart paused and then held out his hand. "Thanks Frank and, once again, I'm sorry."

He found himself shaking the other man's hand mechanically and then watching as he left the station through the front door, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he got outside.

"What did he want?" June called over from the front desk.

"Nothing," he replied, watching Stewart's retreating figure. "Nothing at all."

XXXX

"So, was your brother-in-law working in your van on those dates?"

Pete narrowed his eyes, "You never said that you were a copper."

"Does it matter? Was your brother-in-law working…?"

"No."

Christina paused, "You sound definite."

"I am definite. Those dates you're talking about; this van was in getting an axel repaired. Cost me a pretty penny too, not to mention the lost revenue from not being here. So no, he wasn't working here on those dates and quite frankly I'm shocked you'd ask."

"Why?"

"Graham's not the type to go around touching kids, that's disgusting. He's a quiet lad, keeps himself to himself. He's not like that."

"They never are," she replied. "You wouldn't be the first family member to be shocked to hear the truth."

"What truth? You've got no evidence at all! You wouldn't even know Graham's name if I hadn't mentioned it. That stuff he did is all in the past, product of a misspent youth."

"Indecent exposure?" she raised her eyebrows.

"That was a mistake."

"Yeah, I'm sure it was…" she turned away at the sound of Viv calling her name and walked over to meet her. "Well, he says the van was off the road those days, so Graham couldn't have been here."

"Never mind that, one of the mums has just told me that she saw someone hanging around the bushes over the other side there a few minutes ago watching the kids."

"Description?"

"Youngish, dark hair, wearing dark clothes."

"Ok, you stay here with Lucy, and I'll take a wander over, see if he's still there." Mindful of not wanting to spook whoever might be hanging around, she slowly made her way over to the dense bushes on the other side of the park, trying to look for all the world as though she was just out for a stroll. As she grew closer, she heard the sound of movement and, seconds later, a figure darted out and away from her. "Stop, police!" Giving chase, she caught him easily, grabbing him from behind and bringing him down to the ground. As she attempted to turn him round, however, he lashed out with his foot, catching her on the jaw and causing her face to explode with sharp pain. But she kept her grip on him, managing to hold him down on the ground until Viv arrived moments later to assist.

"You all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Get him up." She pulled herself to her feet, dragging the suspect after her and turning him around to face her, his hands still held behind her back. "What's your name?" For a moment, he said nothing. "Name!"

"Marsden," he said finally. "Graham Marsden."

XXXX

"You should have called for backup!"

"Well, there wasn't time for that. Viv had to stay with her niece, and he had started to run. What was I supposed to do, just let him get away?"

"No, but it might have been preferable if you'd emerged unscathed from the experience." He paused, his eyes taking in the expanding bruise on her jaw, wanting to take her in his arms, kiss it and tell her he wouldn't let anyone hurt her, as ridiculously pathetic as having such a thought might have made him seem. "You'll be doing him for assault I take it?"

"I suppose so, but I'm more bothered about whether he's our man than anything he did to me."

"Yeah? I'll do something to him if I get half a chance." Her eyes widened slightly, and she glanced over her shoulder to see if anyone else had picked up on his comment. "As I would do if any of my officers were injured by a slag trying to make good his escape," he added. "Have you seen the doctor?"

"It's fine, it's just a bruise. I'll stick some ice on it. I wanted to check if you wanted in on the interview?"

Under normal circumstances, he likely wouldn't have bothered and would have delegated it to her and Viv to deal with. But the fact that she had been injured, regardless of the circumstances, made him want to go eyeball to eyeball with the slag. "You bet I do."

"Oh, ok," she seemed surprised. "Well, we're just waiting on his solicitor coming so, I'll give you a shout, yeah?"

"Fine…oh Chris?" She turned back. "Shut the door."

She frowned but did as he asked. "What's up?"

He paused, weighing up the wisdom of telling her and rationalising that he had little choice in the matter. "Stewart came to see me today."

Her face dropped, "What? When?"

"Earlier on today, after you called me about Marsden. He…uh…wanted to know if I had any insight into your feelings on the end of your marriage, whether you had confided in me about it and if I thought there was any chance you might change your mind about divorcing him."

She took a breath and then slowly sat down in the chair opposite his desk. "What did you say?"

"That you didn't confide in me about those sorts of things and that, even if you had, I couldn't tell him anything."

"How was he?"

"Sober and sincere enough. He…also asked if I knew if you were seeing someone else." She met his gaze. "Obviously I told him that I didn't know."

"Did he…I mean…did it seem as though he knew?"

"No," he shook his head, "no he didn't have a clue. I figured it was your place to tell him, not mine."

She nodded, "Thanks. I actually saw him myself today down at the park. He said he had been at an AA meeting."

"Yeah, he mentioned that."

"It was him who sent me the flowers."

"Well, I think we'd worked that one out."

"I'm going to have to tell him."

"Let's leave it just now, yeah? I'm still waiting to hear about this Flying Squad job coming off and once it does, then you can tell him and there won't be anything he can do about it."

"And what if it doesn't come off? The Flying Squad job that is."

"It will."

"Frank…"

"Stop worrying. Look, you're going to have to have a difficult conversation with him at some point, you know that. But there's no point in doing it now when it'll just cause a whole load of trouble that neither of us need."

She looked at him curiously, "I thought you were the one pushing me to tell him. Now you're saying I shouldn't?"

"No, I'm saying you should wait until things are a bit simpler, that's all. It won't do either of our careers any good if it comes out now." Speaking to Stewart had only reinforced that for him and, after all, part of her attraction to him surely had to be linked to his rank. He couldn't see her being satisfied long term with a bloke stuck at DI level.

"Ok, you're right," she got to her feet. "Let's just see what happens, yeah?" He nodded and she opened the door just as the phone on her desk starting ringing. "CID, WDC Lewis. Hello?" Frowning, she put it down again. "I'm beginning to wonder if there isn't something wrong with this phone."

"How do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, I keep getting these calls where no-one's there. I don't know, maybe there's a fault on the line." It rang again and she snatched it up. "Hello? Oh, Sarge. Great, thanks for letting me know. That's Marsden's brief here," she turned to him.

"Right then," he clapped his hands together, "let's nail the slag to the wall."

XXXX

"If you didn't do anything wrong, Mr Marsden, why did you run?"

"You scared me, that's why."

"I scared you?" Christina looked at him in slight disbelief. "You were the one hiding in the bushes, but I scared you?"

"Yes," he looked at her defensively. "You came sneaking up on me."

"Come on Graham. Why were you hiding?"

"I wasn't hiding. I was looking."

"Looking at what?"

"I was just seeing if Pete was there, that's all."

She sat back in her chair. "You were looking to see if Pete, your brother-in-law was there. Why didn't you just go over to the van and speak to him?" Marsden shrugged. "I mean, that would be the logical thing to do, wouldn't it?"

"Or were you there for another reason entirely," Frank broke in. "Such as looking to see who you might fancy touching up next?"

"I never touched anyone up!" he protested. "I swear!"

"We've got a description from two children that fits you to a tee, and we've got you running away from the location of both crimes. You don't think that makes us suspicious?" Marsden turned his head towards his solicitor. "For the benefit of the tape, Mr Marsden is consulting with his solicitor." He paused. "Do you like kids, Graham?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Why, of course?"

"Well, everybody likes kids, don't they?"

"Do they?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Are there any kids in your family?" she asked.

"No, not little ones. Pete's got three but they're all grown up now." Marsden paused. "They weren't hurt, were they? The ones at the park?"

"Well, it depends on how you look at it. They were frightened and they were touched by a man in places that no-one should touch a child."

"But…whoever did it…I mean…he wouldn't hurt them, would he? I mean, not really."

Frank sat forwards, "I can understand that perhaps whoever did this didn't think he was hurting them. Maybe it was his way of showing affection."

"Yeah," Marsden nodded, "exactly."

"Maybe, he didn't think he was really doing any harm."

Christina held her breath as Marsden locked gazes with Frank and kept nodding in apparent understanding. Any second now, he was going to confess, she could feel it.

"I think I'd like to have a word with my client please," the solicitor said, breaking the tension. "In private, if you don't mind."

She got to her feet, Frank reluctantly following suit. "Interview suspended at six-fifty-six pm to allow Mr Marsden to consult with his solicitor."

"Git," Frank muttered angrily once they were outside the room. "If that solicitor hadn't opened his big mouth, Marsden would have coughed then. Now we'll be lucky to get anything more than a 'no comment' out of him."

"I don't know, he seemed keen to want to get across that whoever did it wouldn't have meant any harm. Maybe he'll still want to do that, even if his lawyer tells him to stay quiet."

"Well, we can but hope." Frank paused. "Fancy a late bite after this?"

"My place or yours?"

"I was thinking more about actually going out somewhere. You know, to a restaurant where you sit at a table and are served with food and beverages."

"I know what a restaurant is, thank you," she rolled her eyes before lowering her voice. "Do you think it's a good idea?" In the time they had spent together so far, they hadn't been out in public, preferring to spend the time mostly at each other's flats.

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, you're just done telling me not to tell Stewart about us right now in case it all blows up in our faces…"

"That's not the same thing. Besides, I'm not suggesting we go round the corner. I know a few places off the manor where nobody's going to know or care who we are. So, what do you say?"

The idea was so very tempting. Doing normal things that normal couples did, even if their situation seemed so far removed from that at the moment and besides, she couldn't remember the last time she'd had a meal out. "All right," she nodded. "But we'll have to have a convincing cover story in case we are seen by anyone we know."

"I'll have to make sure I don't sit too close to you then or put my hand on your leg or…other places…" he raised his eyebrows at her, and she laughed. "Don't worry, I know just the place."

"Somewhere you take all your women?" she joked.

"No," he replied, "only the very special ones."