Page 101 of Return Ticket

“And he’s got reporters asking him about the reopened case. He sounded unhappy.”

“How did the press find out about it?” Hartridge wondered.

James was silent.

Hartridge turned. Stared. “You?”

James shot him a grin. “It’s a triumph for the Met. Reopening an unsolved case and finding good evidence to convict.”

Hartridge frowned. “It sounded like Whetford was unhappy about it, though. Galbraith certainly looked unhappy.”

“Maybe it wasn’t solved because someone didn’t want it solved,” James said. “Maybe Whetford made some promises about keeping that case cold, and now, whoopsie, it’s heating up.”

“In the archives,” Hartridge breathed. “You . . .” He trailed off, speechless. “That’s why you haven’t sent the letter to the Commissioner about what he’s up to. You decided to do this instead?”

“I think Whetford might be too busy covering his arse, or watching his back, to worry about either you or me for a while.” James shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Come on, let’s get back to the office. It’s freezing out here.”

“I thought you seemed happier,” Hartridge said. “Now I understand why.”

James laughed as he slid into the car. “Sure,” he said. “That’s probably the reason.”