Page 64 of Slack Tide Kill

"Saving for what?"

"A car. A blue Fiesta advertised in Lydd. Had photos of it in his phone and kept showing them to everyone."

The associates list felt heavier in Sally's hand. "Did she have any idea who he might have been meeting at the Black Hind?"

"Vaguely. She said he had a handful of friends from school, a few lads from the building sites around Hastings. None of them have come forward. We're working through social media now."

"Girlfriend?"

"Not recently. He'd mentioned a girl at Christmas, but nothing came of it. She doesn't know her name."

Silence dropped between them, filled only by the rattle of wind on the station's high windows.

"She asked me if he would have been frightened," Mayhew said.

"What did you say?"

Mayhew didn't answer immediately. "I said that we had every reason to believe it was very quick. That it was most likely peaceful."

The silence stretched. Sally looked out the windows, to the gray-washed parking lot and the dark clouds beyond. A blue Fiesta in a photo on his phone. A girl at Christmas. It always went this way, when you got the ID.

The boy on the beach had a life. A specific, narrow, real life, and someone had ended it on the Dungeness shingle in the dark. Jason Harrow.

"Thank you, DCI."

For a moment Mayhew seemed to be about to say something further. Then the professional mask reasserted itself, hard and complete.

"Where's your partner?" She looked around the emptying hall then returned her gaze to Sally. "And why are you still wearing that uniform?"

"I like the cut. And O'Connell's on his way; you only called me 20 minutes ago, though you must've assembled everyone else an hour ago."

Mayhew pushed her jaw forward. "You should know to be here."

"From 5 a.m.? I'll bear that in mind. But you still haven't answered why you didn't properly introduce the witness, Nancy Cagen, on the beach yesterday."

"Properly? Rogers, you rolled up in filthy Spandex with wild red eyes, ranting and racing about in a storm. I wasn't about to tell you anything I didn't have to."

Sally opened her mouth, then closed it. Perhaps that was fair. "And now?"

"The jury is very much out."

"So judge this. We cross-referenced associates of the Rooks yesterday, building on a theory about the Crab Shack's CCTV. We asked the DI's team to look into those names, in particular one Gerald Spate. Given the Rooks' historical involvement, I want to start on the list today. One of them may know where they are now."

Mayhew raised a hand. "DI Gemmell told me all that. I do not appreciate you logging work hours from my squads or my DI, especially for another leap like this." Her eyes flashed. "But go back a step. When did you speak with Nancy Cagen?"

"This morning. We met on the beach."

"You interrogated a witness without my express permission?"

Sally held in a flinch. That might have been a procedural mistake. "Not an interrogation. Not arranged, DCI. I saw her. She talked."

"Why do I believe none of that?" Mayhew shook her head. "You're dangerous, Rogers. I thought some cool-off time yesterday would do it, but now I see not. I'm raising this again with Deputy Director McMaster."

"Or you can use us," Sally said quickly. "We'll do the grunt work on these associates. We need all the manpower we can get."

Mayhew's eyes narrowed. "This kind of brinksmanship is no way to run an investigation."

"We're team players, DCI. We'll start on that list now."