they weren't friendly. They were waiting for the show – and Laura knew that it was too late to back out.
‘My boyfriend is a reporter,’ she said, ‘and he's been approached by Sarah Goode's parents.’
Carson blinked, the information registered, but then he started to grin. ‘Boyfriend?’ he said, turning to his team. ‘How old is he? Sixteen?’
Laura went red, but from anger, not embarrassment. She didn't respond, knowing that she would say something she would later regret.
‘Tell me more,’ he said, smiling. ‘What's your name?’
‘DC McGanity,’ replied Laura. ‘On the CRT.’
‘First name?’ he said.
‘Laura.’
‘Okay, Laura, what did Sarah's parents want with your boyfriend?’
‘They want him to find Sarah,’ she replied. ‘They went to their solicitor first, and he set up the meeting.’
‘So it's coming through a lawyer?’ Carson queried, sounding sceptical. ‘And if he finds her?’
‘He's got to tell her to hand herself in.’
‘Why are you telling me?’
‘Because he asked me to,’ she replied.
‘And what if he tells you more but doesn't ask you to repeat the favour? Will you still come and speak to me?’ Before Laura had the time to respond, he said aggressively, ‘Because pillow talk is not confidential. You hear anything, little lady, come down here and tell me. Understand?’
‘I just thought you ought to know,’ Laura replied, feeling humiliated, her heart pounding with anger. When she turned to leave the room, someone spluttered a laugh behind Carson, and he started to grin.
As she walked quickly back down the corridor, she was aware of a pause, and then she heard the noise of Carson's team laughing. She guessed that Carson was leading the chorus.
When Laura burst back into the custody office, she saw her prisoner's arrogant grin.
‘If you hit him because he was messing around with your girlfriend,’ she said to him, her stare hard and direct, ‘you might have chosen the wrong tactic.’
The grin wavered. ‘Why?’
‘Us girls don't like to get lonely,’ she said, stepping closer. ‘I can bet who she spent last night with.’ Laura looked at her watch theatrically. ‘Do you want me to call her, to give him time to leave?’
The prisoner's face turned into an angry flush before the custody sergeant buzzed open the exit door. Laura stomped away quickly, slowing down only when Pete caught up with her.
‘I could learn from you,’ he said, as he got alongside her. ‘Menace with a smile.’
Laura sighed. ‘I let myself down,’ she replied.
Pete laughed and waved it away. ‘No, it was fun.’
As they walked along the corridor from the custody area, Laura heard laughter ahead. She guessed what was coming even before Carson appeared in the doorway, a few members of his team just behind him, sharing the joke.
They went quiet as Pete approached them, although the smiles remained. As Carson went past, Pete nodded and said, ‘Afternoon, sir’, more out of obligation than respect. Carson didn't respond. Instead, he looked down at Laura, before raising what should have been eyebrows at his team.
Laura looked down and took a deep breath, not yet ready for formalities. As their footsteps receded, she glanced back. One of Carson's men looked back towards her at the same time. He was dressed differently to the rest, in a dark polo shirt and casual trousers, bulky pockets on his thighs. As Laura looked, he smiled and nodded.
‘If ever you need a reason not to get promoted, there's a few to choose from there,’ said Pete.
Laura didn't respond at first. Instead, she walked on ahead, stopping only when she was back at her desk, holding another handover package.
‘C'mon,’ she said quietly. ‘There's another cell to empty.’
It was cold, and getting colder. Sarah Goode walked quickly around the room, her arms wrapped around her chest as she tried to keep warm, but it was no protection for her naked body. Her skin was pale and goose-pimpled, and she dreaded the thought of the night ahead. When she looked down, she saw how dirty her feet were, made grubby as she walked around, the soles of her feet numb, the soil floor turned to mud by the hose-blast from earlier.
She knew she had to stay strong, but she was cold and she was hungry. Her primal instincts took over, her need for food and warmth and sleep.
The pulsing heartbeat still reverberated around the room. She tried to walk in time to it, to use it as a distraction, to get some strength from it, but every time she got close to the speakers she had to clamp her hands over her ears.
Then the noise stopped.
Sarah went still, listened out for a noise, some hint at what was to come. And then the lights went off.
It was dark and silent for a few blissful seconds, but then she saw a sliver of light under the door. Someone was there. She heard the click of the lock, and, as the door slid open, someone holding a bright torch stepped into the room. All she could see was the light. She looked away and her vision swam with bright speckles.
Sarah shielded her eyes with her arm. ‘Who's there?’ she shouted. Maybe it was someone come to rescue her. ‘Please, who is it?’
The same voice she had heard before answered.
‘Have you thought any more?’ he asked, his loud whisper filled with menace. He walked into the room and started to circle her, the torch beam constantly shining into her face, blinding her.
Sarah tried to move her face away, but the light was too direct. She tracked him, not letting him get behind her. ‘I don't know what you mean?’ she said, her voice filled with desperation.
‘We talked about it before,’ he said. ‘Your future. What awaits you?’
Sarah shook her head. She tried to see behind the torch but it was too bright. ‘I don't know, you tell me,’ she said, and then she started to cry. ‘I don't know what you want.’
‘Don't be scared,’ came the reply, followed by a low chuckle. He was enjoying this. ‘Consequences, Sarah,’ he said. ‘That's all you are interested in. Fear of them. They hold you back.’
Sarah sank to her knees. ‘I don't know what you mean,’ she wailed, but then she scuttled backwards as she heard his steps in the dirt floor, coming towards her, slow and deliberate.
‘Your time is running out,’ he said as he got closer.
