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Culverhouse strode back into the incident room with the intention of grabbing a mug of coffee and sitting in his office with his eyes shut for a few minutes. The Freddie Galloway case was tying him in knots, and he and his team would have no way of knowing who was telling the truth and who was bound by a veil of silence imposed on them by career criminals.
He was half tempted to wind the whole investigation down. After all, a major criminal — one they’d never managed to convict — was dead. Justice had been done in its own twisted way.
He didn’t even get as far as the coffee machine, though, before Wendy stopped him in his tracks.
‘Call from above, I’m afraid.’
Culverhouse rolled his eyes and sighed. Although he was fortunate that the Chief Constable, Charles Hawes, was generally ve
