The Kill by Jane Casey Page B

with me.’
    Around the circle, I was aware of eyebrows going up, of meaningful looks being exchanged. I couldn’t seem to kill the rumour that Godley and I were having a secret relationship. If only they knew the secret we shared, they would know there was nothing romantic about it. Godley had been passing information to a major criminal, John Skinner, for years. And I was the only one who knew about it. Derwent’s expression was neutral, unreadable. He knew Godley better than most, and I thought he probably didn’t believe there was anything going on between me and the superintendent, but I wasn’t sure.
    Apparently oblivious, Godley went on, ‘Josh, you stay here. Glenn’s going to move the body soon and I want someone on the spot in case there are any surprises. Talk to the witnesses. Talk to the SOCOs. Get hold of the local Safer Neighbourhoods Team and find out if this was a regular spot for couples. Maybe Hammond was a regular. I want you to concentrate on this end of the investigation, Josh. With your background in the army you know more than anyone else here about shooting.’
    ‘But Kerrigan knows more about giving blowjobs than anyone else.’
    It was a mutter but Derwent didn’t miss it. He rounded on Belcott, who actually took a step back. ‘What did you say?’
    ‘Nothing. Just a joke.’
    ‘And well up to your usual standards,’ I said, unruffled. There was very little Belcott could say that would genuinely annoy me. I had no need to impress him.
    ‘Let’s get moving.’ Godley headed off in the direction of his car. The others followed, Belcott glaring at me as he passed. I smiled sweetly until he turned away. I hung back for a moment, reluctant to walk down the hill with him.
    Derwent came to stand beside me. ‘What did you ever do to Belcott?’
    ‘Nothing at all. Except for being cleverer than him, and better at the job, and taller than he is, and whatever else it is that chafes his nuts.’
    ‘Whatever that may be.’ Derwent was smiling to himself. The smile died as he turned to look at the car, with its nightmarish passenger. The sky was starting to change colour, the darkness lifting, the birds tuning up for dawn. It was cold and my spirits plummeted again. Around us, London would be starting to wake up on a clear Sunday morning. Terence Hammond’s family would be waking up to a tragedy.
    And nothing I could do would change that.

Chapter 4
    When I got to his car, Godley was listening to the news, frowning.
    ‘… found dead in Richmond Park in south-west London. Police have not yet named him. There are unconfirmed reports that the man was a police officer, shot in his car in the early hours of this morning as he returned from work. Several roads are closed within the park and traffic in the area will be subject to diversions for the rest of the day.’ The calm, measured voice paused for a moment. ‘An eight-year-old boy has died in a house fire …’
    Godley turned the radio off.
    ‘They got hold of that quickly.’ I put on my seatbelt.
    ‘They always do now. One of the witnesses tweeted about it.’ Godley shrugged. ‘Nothing we can do. As soon as it gets light there’ll be a helicopter or two filming the scene.’
    A silver Volvo slid past us and Godley followed it. ‘That’s Superintendent Lowry, Hammond’s boss. He’s got Hammond’s inspector with him, Dan West. Do you know either of them?’
    ‘No. Never met them.’
    ‘I don’t know anything about West but don’t judge John Lowry by this morning. He’s not usually so tense. Hammond had two kids, apparently. Fourteen and sixteen. Tough age to lose a father.’
    ‘I’m not sure there’s a right age for that to happen. It’s good of Superintendent Lowry to break the news to Mrs Hammond himself.’
    ‘I’d do the same. I’ve never had to, thank God.’ He looked sideways at me. ‘I’ve come close a couple of times, as you know.’
    I did know, since I’d been the one hovering between life and death on at