Page 165 of Slack Tide Kill

A shudder rippled down her back. "Come on. Before we get stranded."

They continued at a crawl. It took 40 minutes before they rolled into Rye. At the police station, half the press had fled, leaving their mini marquee tents in place. The journalists looked bedraggled and cold, their equipment coated in multiple layers of clear plastic.

Inside, Sergeant Simms was on duty desk.

"Ma'am, sir, are you both OK? It's apocalyptic out there."

"We're fine," Liam said. "Why?"

"Fire service is out, Coastguard, council's engineers; there's ruptured sewers all up and down from Dungeness to Hythe. Sewage is literally everywhere, and now it's washing inland."

Sally frowned. "Washing inland? What about the sea walls?"

"Sea walls don't cover the whole coast. There's plenty of places where high tide can breach."

Sally blew out a breath. "That's why the road's closed."

"Sewage, waves and high winds. Come on through."

He buzzed them in. Sally and Liam made a beeline directly to their team, clustered in the usual spot. DI Gemmell, Hawlin and Flaherty. All three were on their phones, scratching out notes. Gemmell looked up as they arrived.

"You took your time. Is it really bad out there?"

"Water's up to the wheel wells," Liam said. "How are we doing on the records search?"

Gemmell shook his head. "Nothing. Flaherty knows someone at the GRO, she's run a fast check, but there's no sign. The rest of it, churches, the hospital, there's just nobody to run a search right now. We're all on hold."

He gestured at the team. Hawlin and Flaherty nodded, phones held to their heads.

"What about Rook? Is he ready for us?"

"Still in IR1. The DCI doesn't like it, but she's off somewhere for a bit. Now's your chance."

Sally and Liam exchanged glances.

"Let's go," he said.

Eyes across the bullpen watched them. Sally noticed the shrine to Chakrati had expanded again, while her picture on the wall was barely distinguishable, so shredded by dart holes.

They stopped outside the interview room, Sally's hand on the handle, looking through the small window. Roarke Rook was there with his lawyer beside him. He didn't seem the same man. No longer cocky, no longer slouching. He sat upright, to attention. Maybe that wasn't surprising. With human trafficking charges, he was facing life in prison.

It didn't make Sally's heart beat any less hard. This was the closest they'd been since the marsh, wrestling in the sewer after he'd just fired at her car.

"The uncle," Liam said, right by her side. "We get his name, we're in and out."

"In and out," Sally repeated, then pushed through the door.

69 ELECTRICAL ARC

Rook recoiled slightly when he saw Sally. She used that, gliding into place across the table but saying nothing. Letting him sweat as Liam prepared the interview camera.

"Officers Sally Rogers and Liam O'Connell," he said for the record. "Thursday, 12th February, 5:32 p.m. Interview with Roarke Rook and his solicitor, Richard Carrack."

Then he fell silent.

The solicitor watched Sally with sharp eyes. Roarke kept his gaze down, fixed on the table. Neither Sally nor Liam spoke. They let the silence build.

"Officers," began Carrack, "we should–"