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She strode across the floor, her heavy footsteps echoing around the lobby.

Startled, PC Mark Drayton looked up sharply, surprised to see Helen back at Southampton Central yet again.

For once, however, there was no caustic comment, the impact of the last few days making themselves felt, the custody officer sombre and respectful today.

‘Good morning. How can I help you?’ Drayton asked, his voice shaking slightly.

‘You can buzz me through,’ Helen answered curtly, without breaking stride, her eyes locked on the staff entrance.

Without hesitation, Drayton reached under the desk and punched the button. Nodding her thanks, Helen heaved open the door, briefly clocking the relief on Drayton’s face, before pushing inside.

Moments later, the lift doors slid open on the tenth floor.

Helen was quick to emerge, her boots sliding over the lush carpet that smoothed the passage of the top brass in this lofty outpost. Heading fast along the corridor, she made her way to Holmes’ office, the Chief Superintendent’s long-suffering PA, Susan, rising from her desk on Helen’s approach, her expression a mixture of surprise and alarm.

‘Helen, how nice to see you. Do you have an appointment or …?’

Holmes’ gatekeeper clearly knew the answer to this, but Helen ignored her intervention, striding past her.

‘You can’t go in there, Helen. The Chief Super’s on a call …’

But Helen barely heard her, stepping purposefully into Holmes’ office and shutting the door firmly behind her.

‘It’s completely out of the question.’

Holmes’ tone was defiant, but Helen could see the uncertainty and alarm in her eyes. It had been a difficult few days for the station chief, but she had not been expecting this .

‘I know you’re deeply upset by what’s happened to Charlie, we all are, but it changes nothing,’ the station chief continued quickly.

‘On the contrary,’ Helen shot back, ‘it changes everything . Visser stabbed your best officer, my oldest friend. I will not be shut out of the hunt for this bastard. I’ve known Charlie too long, owe her too much, to let this go.’

‘No one’s letting this go,’ Holmes countered vigorously.

‘Visser will be found, he will be arrested, he will be brought to justice. We are working night and day to root him out, liaising with the NCA, Interpol, as well as with the Dutch police in Rotterdam. Our strong suspicion is that he will return to his hometown and, when he does so, the authorities will be waiting for him.’

‘Who are you dealing with out there?’ Helen demanded. ‘Who is your point of contact in Rotterdam CID?’

‘I can’t tell you that,’ Holmes replied sharply, shaking her head.

‘So who’s running it this end then?’

For a moment, Holmes appeared lost for words, stunned by the relentlessness of Helen’s interrogation.

‘You?’ Helen continued.

‘Of course not,’ Holmes stammered. ‘It has to be CID-led, you know that …’

‘Who then?’

‘Well, we’re still deciding. Not that it’s any of your business, but my intention was to speak first to DC McAnd—’

‘It has to be me,’ Helen interrupted forcefully. ‘Ellie’s not experienced enough, she doesn’t have sufficient pull and she’s never handled an international investigation.’

‘Absolutely not, Helen. There’s no way that—’

‘I’ve have broken up more smuggling rings than you’ve had hot dinners. I’ve worked successfully with the Dutch police before and, let me tell you, no one will work harder to bring that piece of shit to justice.’

‘Helen, can you even hear yourself?’ Holmes protested indignantly. ‘You’re not a police officer anymore. You walked away from here. You can’t just pick up the baton again when you feel like it.’

‘That was then. This is now,’ Helen replied, glowering at her old boss.

‘No, no. It doesn’t work like that. You resigned, you washed your hands of us, you don’t get to call the shots. But please be under no illusion, we will pursue Visser to the ends of the earth if necessary. We will bring him to book, you have my word on that.’

‘Well, apologies if I don’t break into applause, but I know what your word is worth.’

Rebecca Holmes looked like she was about to explode, but Helen continued assertively:

‘Empty words, empty promises. And that won’t wash here. This man must be caught, he must be made to answer for his crimes and I will see that he does so. The MIT is my team, Charlie’s well-being is my responsibility, this investigation is my investigation.’

Helen fixed the station chief with a steely glare, as she concluded:

‘I want back in.’