Page 65 of Slack Tide Kill

Sally walked away, heart clamoring. That was close.

Back in the training room, she found a thick document waiting on the desk and started leafing through it. DI Gemmell and his team had delivered; this was a full workup of their list, prioritized by the profile. There was none of the crossover she'd hoped for after the Fates' profile, though. No emergency services, no land management, other than Reactor Logistics-style waste control.

There were a fair few men in their 50s though. Foremost among them for his recent Directorship of Reactor Logistics was Gerald Spate. Based in Dymchurch, some 20 minutes north up the coast from Dungeness.

Their next target. A possible killer. He might even know where the rest of the Rook brothers were.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Sally said.

PC Chakrati entered hesitantly. She looked washed-out, like she was barely staying on her feet. She held out several papers in a slim plastic wallet. "Ma'am. This just came through for you."

Sally took the wallet. "Thanks, Emily. What is it?"

"Something about the girls." She looked uncomfortable. "You know, from the Lodge?"

"OK." She scanned the front page; looked like the paperwork she'd requested from Brampton at the old fire station museum. She turned back to Chakrati. "Are you all right?"

"I'm just tired, ma'am. Sally. I'm not used to this."

"Nobody ever is," Sally said, and smiled. "I'll fill this in and get it back to you."

"Very good."

She bobbed out. Sally extracted the papers from the wallet. Seemed like five pages, each requiring handwritten responses to multiple questions, along with signatures. More paperwork. But she'd made a promise to Eszter and the others, and this mattered.

She rustled around, found a pen and set to work. It took around 30 minutes, including a full appraisal of how the 'witnesses' were essential to the case. Just as she was finishing up, the door opened again and Liam came in, carrying two takeout cups of steaming coffee.

"Sally," he blurted. "You weren't at the Mermaid."

"I was in Dungeness. Had to go for a run. Now we're going to Dymchurch." She looked at the coffees. "Is that for?"

He looked at the cups in his hands too, then held one out. "Of course, yeah."

Sally took it. "Thanks. Here's the workup the team made last night." She held out the thick folder.

Liam scanned the topmost page. "Gerald Spate. OK, we had him yesterday, too."

Sally regarded Liam. He was pale still, his skin blotchy, with a white spot of shaving foam clinging to the corner of his jaw. The welt from the seatbelt seemed even redder and rawer today. But he was here, with coffee, and no scent of lingering alcohol. The kind of thing a partner did.

"We did," she said. "Now we know more. Come on, let's go find out what he knows."

She started away, taking one sip of the coffee. It went down like bitter fire, setting her stomach rumbling with hunger.

27 ON ALL SIDES

On the way out of the station, they collected kit from Hawlin in the equipment store: a belt, cuffs, a collapsible baton, and a can of PAVA, all with their own holders.

"The spray just got approved by the DCI," Hawlin explained. "Senior officers only."

Sally threaded the belt through her borrowed uniform and clipped the holders on. The lanky young officer looked somber and tired as they signed off.

"How late did you work that list, Rick?" Sally asked, slotting the cuffs, baton and PAVA into their molded holders.

"I lost track around 2, ma'am," Hawlin said, rubbing his eyes. "Me and Emily slept here last night. I mean PC Chakrati."

Sally just nodded. "I've been looking at your intel. It's solid. We owe you both."