Some of the details and dialogue over the next couple of chapters is taken from the series 9 episode 'The Short Straw' which I do not own.

PART FOUR

25 March 1993

It wasn't always pleasant, she had to admit, investigating and exposing fellow police officers for wrongdoing. Some of the matters were of a lower level than others, such as looking the other way when something happened, or fixing it so that someone was dropped out of an enquiry. The last one had made her think back to the time Phil was arrested and Frank had wanted to try and pull strings to get him out of it. Or, if she recalled correctly, get her to get him out of it. She had never really considered something like that to be a matter MS15 were interested in, but the more time she spent with Kim, the more she realised that the other woman's aim was to root out any and all corruption, no matter how seemingly insignificant. It made her question her own past conduct too, not least of all lying to Petch over the Lennie Powell shooting.

Some officers, when confronted, were devastated and ashamed, shed tears and railed about how they had ruined their lives. Others tried to brazen it out, deny all knowledge and make slurs and accusations against her and the others in turn.

No, none of it was particularly pleasant, but it did feel as though she was making some kind of difference.

"You will give me the heads up if my name appears in a file anywhere, won't you?" Frank had asked her one night, not long after she had started. "No point in having someone on the inside if you don't benefit from it."

Ultimately, she had been thankful for the fact that he had asked the question as they lay in bed together in darkness and therefore, couldn't see the expression on her face. "Something you're not telling me?"

"Course not, just making sure we understand each other."

She had chosen to view his comment as humorous, even if she suspected it wasn't. "Chance would be a fine thing. As if Reid would tell me anything about any suspicions involving you. I'd probably be suspended…again."

Fortunately, sleep had claimed them both quickly after that, and the subject hadn't come up again, though she knew it was on his mind. The safest thing all round, she had come to realise, was to tell him very little about her day-to-day work and, crucially, to mention no names. Thankfully, over the last few days in particular, his mind had been occupied with an upcoming armed robbery that a reliable snout had told him was going to be going off soon and the topic of her own work seemed furthest from his mind.

"Chris, have you got a minute?"

She was jolted out of her reverie by Kim calling to her and, putting down the sandwich she had just taken a bite out of, made her way over to the office door. "Yes Ma'am."

"I'm sorry, did I disturb your lunch?"

"It's fine, it can wait."

"Thank you, I'm running out shortly to Area and I wanted to pass this case to you before I left." She took the file from Kim's outstretched hand and sat down in the chair opposite her desk. "This one's a little bit different."

"Different?" She frowned before opening the file and coming face to face with an image she recognised.

"I believe you may know Detective Constable Harry Grimm."

The photograph in the file did little to mask the sweaty face and squinty eye. She hadn't seen him since the day she had confronted him over Stewart's fidelity after visiting Ryan in prison and yet he wasn't someone she could easily forget. "Yes Ma'am. He was on the Drugs Squad with my ex-husband."

"He transferred to the Robbery Squad in October of last year and we've been watching him for the last few months."

"Oh…" the revelation surprised her slightly. Harry had always seemed a lot of things but bent hadn't been one of them. "He was in the Vice Squad last time I spoke to him. I didn't realise that he'd moved again or that he was of interest to us."

"Have you been in recent contact with him?"

She paused, deciding for some reason that it was better to keep any mention of her last meeting with Harry purely professional, rather than going into chapter and verse about what personal matters they had discussed. "I was on a domestic violence course last year and I ran into him there. We had a brief conversation…" she trailed off. "He told me he visits my ex-husband in prison."

"Ever since DC Grimm joined the Robbery Squad, there have been a number of high prolife and, what might have been considered 'in the bag', jobs gone awry. Suspects seemingly being tipped off before raids, planned blags not going off, that sort of thing," Kim said. "Suspicions were raised and we're fairly confident that Grimm is the mole, feeding information to the gangs."

"I see. What does this have to do with me?"

"You have a personal relationship with Grimm."

"Well, I would hardly call it a personal relationship. I met him a few times at social events or the like when I was there with Stewart, but I certainly wouldn't have considered him and I to be friends, if that's what you mean."

Kim stood up, walked around her desk and perched on the edge of it. "We've tried catching him in the act and, so far, we've been unsuccessful. We need an 'in' and I think you could be the key."

"In what way?"

"We need a smoking gun, as they say. Some sort of confession or other evidence that will help us nail him. He's been too clever thus far. You have that connection with him, through your ex-husband, tenuous though you might think it to be. Grimm frequents the Black Grape on Kent Street. Do you know it?" She nodded. "Information suggests that he'll be there tonight. I'd like you to go there and strike up a conversation with him, talk about old times, see if you can get him to divulge anything to you."

"But…" she paused, her mind whirring. "Why would he talk to me, let alone confess to what he's been doing?"

"I'm not expecting a confession straight off tonight. But if things progress well, suggest meeting him again. Win his confidence, his trust. Try to work into the conversation about a big job that you know is apparently going off soon. I'll give you all the credible details. That way, we should be able to see if Grimm feeds that false information back." Kim paused. "You're not keen on the idea?"

"It's not that Ma'am," she replied hurriedly, lest the other woman think she was attempting to shirk any responsibility. "It's just that, well, I'm sure he'll have heard that I've left Sun Hill, so he might know that I work for MS15 and if he knows that, well, he's even less likely to talk."

"I'm considered that. It's a risk we'll have to take. If he does know you work for us then, as you say, he's unlikely to tell you anything and we'll have to regroup. But I'm also aware, that he isn't the sharpest tack in the box, so he may not connect the dots." Kim paused again. "Every other line of investigation has failed so far, and I believe that we need to try this. But if you don't want to do it…"

"No Ma'am, I'm not saying that. I might just have to work on my acting skills a little," she laughed. "I've only ever done one undercover assignment in the past and, well, that one didn't go too well."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Kim smiled. "Thank you for agreeing. Now, I must dash. You have full control over how you set things up for this evening. I've already given DC Morris a heads up, so feel free to use him if you need to."

"Yes Ma'am."

"Oh, and Chris?"

"Ma'am?" she paused at the door.

"The nature of our work, as I know you appreciate, is sensitive. This one particularly so. Therefore, the less people aware of it, the better."

"Of course, Ma'am, understood." The warning was clear, if cryptic; she wasn't to tell Frank about what she was doing. Well, it wouldn't be difficult given his pre-occupation with the upcoming blag. As she made her way back to her desk and opened the file again to read all the reports it contained, two things dominated her thoughts.

The first was whether or not the blag Frank was waiting for was one Harry might have knowledge of, and how her interference might help or hinder his own investigation.

The second was the two lines that had appeared on the pregnancy test she had taken that morning.

XXXX

"Are you sure this information is reliable Guv? I mean, I've heard rumours over the last few months that a bunch of expected blags have all gone south."

"Jim, I really don't need to hear this today," he rolled his eyes. "A little bit of positivity would be appreciated."

"Well, I don't mean to be negative," Jim said, "but I'd rather know if there was a good chance of this going off or if we're going to be left holding our whatsits in our hands."

"Police work, by its very nature, can be unpredictable."

"I know that, but…"

"But nothing! The snout is reliable, and the information is good. So, all I want to hear from you is that you're ready, willing and hungry for action." He watched as the other man lumbered back towards his desk and found himself shaking his head. It never ceased to amaze him how up and down some people could be, especially when a big job was coming up. Where was the excitement? Sometimes he wondered. Not that he hadn't considered that there could be problems with the job. Similarly to Jim, he too had been hearing rumours about a number of slam dunk jobs that had all gone to pot recently, most notably from contacts he still had in the Robbery Squad. Well, at least he knew his snout was reliable. This one knew better than to try and screw him over.

Just as he was poised to lift the receiver and give the snout another call, a reminder that he expected good results, it rang of its own accord.

"Burnside."

"It's me. Everything all right? You sounded like you were about to take someone's head off."

He softened slightly at the sound of her voice. "Yeah well, it's all go here, know what I mean? I've just been trying to inject some enthusiasm into the troops for tomorrow."

"So, it's definitely tomorrow then?"

"So my snout tells me." He glanced over to where Jim was looking somewhat dejectedly into his coffee cup. "Not that there aren't folk here who doubt it."

"I'm sure it'll all go off without a hitch. Listen, I'm going to have to work a bit late tonight. I'm not sure what time I'll be home."

"She's keeping you busy then," he replied, his gaze still on Jim.

"Something like that. So, I'll see you when I get home, ok?"

"Yeah, all right. Look after yourself."

"I will. Love you."

"Love you too." Putting the receiver down, he walked back into the main CID office and over to the other man's desk. "Something eating away at you James?"

"What? Oh…no, it's nothing." Jim made a face. "Well, nothing work related anyway."

"Women trouble? You've been having that ever since I've known you."

"Thanks Guv."

"What's this one's name then?"

"Debbie."

"How old?"

"Twenty-two…ish."

"Ish?" He shook his head. "Take a leaf out of my book, Jim, and leave the very young ones alone. They're born trouble."

Jim looked up at him, "Leaving out the fact that Christina's a good bit younger than you are, Guv?"

"She's over thirty, which is all that matters. As are you. Look for a woman nearer your own age if you want something more than a roll in the hay every other weekend and if a roll is all you want, then stop letting it get to you."

"You should take up counselling."

"It has been said…" Turning back around, he stopped at the sight of Viv gathering up her belongings. "Quitting time already, Martella?"

"I've got an appointment this evening, Guv."

"Oh yeah?" He looked her up and down, taking in the skirt and top she had clearly changed into from her work suit. "An appointment is it, or is it more of an assignation?"

"You need to take your mind out of the gutter," she replied, fixing him with a look. "A woman can meet a man for a drink without it being more than that."

"So, it is an assignation then? Well, just so as you remember not to get caried away. We've got a big day tomorrow."

Viv rolled her eyes, "As if any of us could forget, Guv. I'll see you in the morning."

"Yeah, you'd better." He watched as she made her way away from him down the corridor and then turned back to Jim. "And maybe you should be going home for an early night and a good long think about your future."

"In the job or in life?"

"Both. Honestly, trying to keep tabs on all of you is like being in charge of a nursery school." He made his way back into his office and lifted the phone, punching in the number for his snout and waiting as it rang out.

There was nothing wrong in just making doubly sure.

XXXX

The Black Grape was one of those places that didn't quite know how to style itself. Torn between wanting to remain an old-fashioned boozer and moving with the times, it somehow didn't quite seem to fit into any niche. But it was busy for a Tuesday night, and she supposed that had to be a good thing. Less conspicuous. She had been relieved that Frank hadn't batted an eyelid when she had told him she would be working late that evening, so preoccupied was he with his own work, and yet although she knew what she was doing was classed as 'work' she couldn't help but feel as though she hadn't been altogether truthful with him. And not just about that.

She'd suspected for a while before taking the test what the outcome would be. Over the past few weeks or so her body had felt slightly alien to her. Her breasts tender, her stomach full of butterflies and, crucially, no sign of her monthly period. She had waited before taking the plunge however, suspended in that state between suspicion and certainty, aware that, once taken, the result would either delight or depress her. The frisson of excitement that had shot through her when she'd seen the two lines had been indescribable, but suddenly she had found herself thinking about so many other things, so many potential complications. Frank's reaction for one, Kim's for another. She knew she would need to tell both of them sooner rather than later.

Ordering a Diet Coke, she took a seat at the bar and tried to look as though she wasn't some desperate singleton looking for company. She'd changed out of her work clothes into jeans and a blouse, something casual that didn't scream out for male attention, and immediately found her thoughts taken up by impending motherhood. She would have to make an appointment with the doctor to confirm how far along she was. By her own calculations, she had estimated roughly six weeks meaning, all being well, an October birth.

Frank would be happy; she knew he would. He had said it was what he wanted and even though she knew he would have his own concerns and anxieties over becoming a father, a warm glow spread through her whenever she thought about them being a family together. Christmas 1993 would be an altogether different affair with a two-month-old baby and the very prospect of it made her smile.

"Something a bit odd about a woman sitting smiling to herself." In a move that could have been described as nothing other than perfectly timed, she glanced around to see Harry standing to her right, peering at her curiously. "I thought it was you."

"Harry," she greeted him, injecting just the right amount of surprise and warmth into her tone. "You're the last person I expected to see in here."

"Likewise," he replied, his eyes roaming the room behind her. "You on your own, or am I about to get hit by the full force of Frank Burnside?"

"No, it's just me," she said, smiling, hoping that she wasn't coming across falsely. After all, the last time they had met, it hadn't exactly been on the friendliest of terms. "Is this your local then?"

"Not really, but I like it." He paused. "Mind if I join you?"

"No, why not." She waved to a vacant stool and took a deep breath as he hoisted himself up onto it, sitting just that little bit too close to her. "Can I get you a drink?"

"I'll get you one," he replied, waving to the barman. "I'll have a pint of lager and…what are you having?"

"Oh, just a Diet Coke, thanks."

"Diet Coke?"

"Yeah, I'm driving." Thankfully, he didn't comment on it further and the barman placed another glass in front of her. "So," she said, after they had mechanically clinked glasses together as if they were old friends. "How's life in Vice?"

Harry took a long gulp of his lager and then paused before replying. "I've moved on from Vice. Robbery Squad now."

"Really? Good for you."

"Yeah well, you know how it is. One squad's much the same as another." His gaze took on a wistful look and she couldn't help thinking he was reminiscing about the past. The good old days, the ones Stewart had missed so much.

"Not the same as the Drug Squad days?"

"No, I suppose not. So much has changed since then." He looked at her. "What about you?"

"Oh…uh…Barton Street." His eyebrows shot up. "I know. Not exactly the best place for an ex-Sun Hill officer to go given the bad relations between the two." She laughed shortly, hoping he wouldn't pick up on her lie or, worse, reveal that he knew she worked for MS15.

"I heard you and Burnside got married. Is that why you got punted out?"

"Yeah, something like that." She paused and studied his face, wondering if she should ask the question that part of her was dying to know the answer to, despite the fact that she had long ago said she never wanted to speak or think of him again. It was a box she didn't really want to open and yet, it might take the conversation in the way she ultimately needed it to go. "How's Stewart?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Surviving, last I heard. I haven't been able to get up to see him in a while." His eyes roamed her face, and, for a moment, she thought he was about to say something more, but the moment was quickly lost, and he lifted his glass to his mouth again.

"Robbery Squad must keep you busy," she said conversationally.

"You could say that. But enough about me. What are you doing here on your own on a Tuesday evening? It's a bit out of your way, isn't it?"

"Oh…it's been a busy few days, and I just needed a bit of breathing space."

"Burnside happy to let you out then?"

"He might be my husband, but he's not my keeper." She paused again, pondering whether to take the plunge or not and deciding it was better to be hung for a sheep than a lamb. "You really don't like him, do you?"

Harry looked surprised, and then shrugged. "I suppose I don't really know him well enough to have an opinion beyond what I've heard."

"He said he spoke to you at that Domestic Violence course we both did."

Harry paused again and then nodded, "Yeah, I think we said hello, but that was about it."

"He spent some time in the Robbery Squad you know, though it was a while back now."

"What, you reckon he'd put a good word in for me? I doubt it." His expression became downcast, and he stared down into his glass.

She held her breath for a long moment, digesting what he had just said, her brain working overtime to think of the right next thing to say, the thing that would give her something akin to what she had gone there for. She suddenly wished she'd discussed it with Frank. He would have known what to say. "Why would you need a good word put in? You're already in the door."

"Yeah, I suppose I am. Lock, stock and barrel." He drained his glass and climbed off the stool. "I should be going."

"Is something bothering you?"

He paused and stared at her, and, for a moment, she worried that she had tipped her hand, but he simply shook his head. "I'm fine. Been a busy few days for me too. Time I headed home for some kip."

"Ok, well, thanks for the drink. It was good to see you at any rate." She smiled and turned away from him, waiting for him to leave so that she could berate herself for how badly the conversation had gone, but seconds later she realised he was still standing there, and she turned back to look at him.

"I don't think you're a bad person, Christina," he said, his tone wistful. "I mean, all right you screwed around on Stewart but, I don't think you're a bad person."

She bit her tongue, fighting down the natural urge to challenge him on his words, remembering the reason why she was there at all and desperately trying to choose her response carefully. "I suppose if I've learned anything over the last few years, it's that everyone makes mistakes, Harry. They don't necessarily make us bad people, just people who've maybe made bad choices." The words sounded so insincere to her own ears, but Harry didn't seem fazed.

"Yeah, I reckon you're right there. Some of us just seem to make more mistakes than others."

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked again.

"Yeah…yeah I'm fine." He flashed her a smile. "See you."

"Bye." She watched as he turned and walked out of the pub before letting out a long breath. If she was asked by Kim to recount what had happened and how she thought it had gone, she really would have no answer. His whole demeanour and attitude had confused her which had to mean that one night alone simply wasn't going to cut it.