Page 41 of Slack Tide Kill

He studied her a moment longer, then nodded. "You're clear, Officer Rogers."

Sally rose and left. It felt like she'd somehow missed something, like there was something she should've said or done, but she didn't know what it was. Outside, Liam was still waiting, though now he held a tray laden with baked goods and two steaming coffees.

"There's a Greggs a few doors down. This is a late lunch."

"Good man," Sally said, still distracted. "Come on."

As they entered the bullpen, PC Chakrati looked up from her seat at a nearby desk. She winced when she saw Sally's neck.

"Ma'am, are you all right?"

Sally smiled. "I'll be better if you get me cuffs, a baton and some PAVA."

"That I think I can do." Chakrati stood, and smiled back. "Better than Farb-gel."

Sally chuckled, and Chakrati led them into a side room. It was long and narrow, with multiple whiteboards and a large display screen affixed to the walls. On the desk lay a tall stack of files beside two open laptops, a tray of custody forms and a plastic evidence wallet.

"This is a training suite?" Liam asked.

"Yes, sir," Chakrati answered briskly. "I trained here. Hawlin too."

"You're both local?" Sally asked.

"East Hythe, born and raised, ma'am. Hawlin's from Greatstone. We're both local kids done good."

Sally found her smile locking in place. Chakrati had an earnestness that was refreshing. How many people would consider a part-time policing job in Dungeness to be 'done good'?

"So you know DI Mercer?"

"Jack Mercer?" Chakrati asked, brightening. "By reputation, yes. A big voice on the, uh, original killing. Some of the old cops around here still mention him."

"We're hoping he comes in today. If he does show, can you send him straight to us?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Call me Sally. What's your first name, Officer?"

"Uh. Emily, ma'am."

"Sally. And what's this, Emily?" She gestured to the stack of files.

"Everything we have on the Rooks, the case notes from 30 years ago, and Gabriel Rook's personal effects. I'll go fetch your gear now, ma'am. Sally."

"Thank you." Sally sat, wrapped both hands around the coffee for warmth then pulled the top file toward her.

GABRIEL ROOK

DOB: 14/08/2003

"Try the steak bake," Liam offered, taking a seat opposite.

She took the pastry and bit down. It was hot, buttery, meaty and rich.

"It's good," she managed, then gulped it down. Swallowing hurt deep in her throat, the pain sharp and jagged. She winced but took another bite out of sheer bloody-mindedness. "Let's assess all this, strengthen our hand, and aim to be in with Rook as soon as he gets counsel. What else have we got?"

Liam pulled the papers his way. Sally noticed his hand was shaking again. Alcohol withdrawal, according to John Logan. The paramedic from the beach. His face wormed into her head; how directly he'd counseled her back then, how easily he'd dismissed her just now.

She pushed thoughts of him aside.