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‘Well, this is a sight I never expected to see.’

Recognizing the condescending tone, Helen looked up sharply to see Chief Superintendent Rebecca Holmes standing in the doorway of the holding cell.

‘Helen Grace locked up in her own nick.’

Helen’s former boss could barely conceal her amusement at her predicament, a smile tugging at her lips.

‘Yeah, it’s a surprise to me too, but the law’s an ass, right?’

Helen was staring meaningfully at Holmes when she said this, pleased to see her smile curdle at the jibe.

The pair had fallen out spectacularly when Helen quit the Force six months ago, her very public criticism of Southampton Central’s leadership team going down very badly.

She did not regret her actions for a minute, but it put her in a tricky spot now, Holmes clearly delighted at her misfortune.

‘As soon as I heard you’d been arrested,’ Holmes continued, recapturing her swagger, ‘I just had to come straight down. Are they looking after you, Helen? Do you have everything you need?’

Holmes already knew the answer, hence the question.

Helen had been roundly ignored by the custody officers since she arrived, shoved into the tiniest cell without a word of explanation, a bottle of water, a blanket or any of the basic comforts usually afforded to the vilest of offenders.

She was still persona non grata in this place, her former colleagues determined to show their continuing anger and disappointment at her disloyalty.

‘Well, I’ve had better service, but then again this place has really gone to the dogs, hasn’t it, Rebecca?’

Another reaction from Holmes, Helen enjoying the freedom her civilian status afforded her. Previously she would have had to call Holmes ‘Chief Super’ or ‘Ma’am’. Now she could call her what she liked – a very tempting prospect.

‘I understand you were picked up for trespassing,’ Holmes responded, changing the subject. ‘Is that true?’

‘Well, obviously I’m not going to say anything that might incriminate me, especially as I haven’t been offered a lawyer, contrary to both law and precedent,’ Helen shot back.

‘All I will say is that I was doing some research which I hope will soon bear fruit, to the embarrassment of both Regus Cleaning Limited and the authorities who should have been investigating them.’

‘And do they plan to press charges? Can we expect to see more of you, Helen?’ Holmes gloated.

‘I very much doubt it. In fact, I rather think Rachel Firth might be about to get the chop.’

Holmes narrowed her eyes, the thought of anyone prominent and high-profile being sacked clearly unsettling for her.

‘Given that, I think it might be best for everyone if I’m bailed and on my way.’

‘Well, of course that would be the sensible thing to do,’ Holmes responded swiftly. ‘And personally I would like nothing better than to see you out of this tiny, malodorous box …’

Holmes cast an eye over the faded yellow brickwork, which was almost obliterated by graffiti, her nose wrinkling as she continued:

‘But we do have rather a backlog at the custody desk at the moment, some kind of fight in the city centre, I believe. Lots of arrests, lots of paperwork …’

Helen didn’t believe a word – the custody area had been dead when she was brought in – but she said nothing, determined not to give her former boss the satisfaction.

‘So I suspect you’ll just have to sit tight for the moment. Do try and make yourself comfortable.’

She offered a warm, maternal smile, which wasn’t returned. Amused by Helen’s cold stare, her patent hostility, Holmes turned to leave, pausing only once she’d reached the doorway. Looking back, she added:

‘I must say, Helen, I am impressed by your ingenuity. The things you do to get back inside Southampton Central …’

And with that, she was gone, slamming the iron door shut behind her.