Abbey's mobile buzzed.

"Good morning, Bill. I was about to ring you. I have a problem."

"You've changed your mind."

"No. I've had a fire in my flat. The kitchen's a right off. You'll have to delay the sale until it's repaired."

"That's a shame. I have a client who wanted to view. I have an idea, but I need to speak to an interested party. I'll get back when I have any news."

"Can't you give me a clue?" she asked.

"If my idea bears fruit, I'll call you and arrange a meeting. Keep your fingers crossed."

"Okay. Talk later."

Abbey strolled to Parsons Green station. Using her student Oyster Card, she jumped on the District Line to Westminster. Within thirty minutes, she entered New Scotland Yard.

A woman in plain clothes escorted her to Commander Haliwell's office. Neither said a word as the lift ascended.

Annie looked up as Abbey entered. "You'll have to wait, he's on the phone."

"I'd rather not be here."

"You should have been a good girl."

"I did nothing wrong."

"I wouldn't agree. When's your baby due?"

"Four months, give or take."

The speaker on Annie's desk lit up. Haliwell spoke. "Send her in, Annie."

Haliwell nodded to Abbey as he pointed at a chair and wondered if he was over thinking the missile problem. After all, nothing had happened since the murder of the main subject. "I'm told your property suffered from major fire damage."

Surprise filled Abbey's face. "How could you know that?"

"I told you we would be watching you and your friends."

"I thought it was no more than a verbal threat. I didn't think you would actually have me followed."

"It's what I do."

"You still don't believe me, do you?"

Haliwell doodled with a red pen on his notepad. The laptop was a no go. Jacob Spink was dead and no other missile launched. He checked the time.

"I'm closing the investigation. We know Spink fired India's missile. How he did this died with him. Thanks to your friend, our military received the funding to upgrade their systems. The case is closed. I turned up nothing of any use but then perhaps it never existed. You are free to go."

Abbey opened her mouth to say something but bit her tongue instead.

"I said you're free to go."

Her expression did not change. "A phone call would have sufficed."

"You don't seem surprised."

"Told you before, I knew nothing."

"I don't believe you. You're the clever one. From what I'm told you'll get a first without even trying."

"Have you finished?"

"No, and I need a favour."

Abbey glanced at him and smiled. "You threaten to arrest me. Ask a lot of stupid questions, and now you want my help?"

"You can always say no." He opened a drawer, removed her passport and handed it to her.

"So, what's this favour?"

With the look of intensity in his eyes, he leant towards her. "I need someone I can trust."

She appeared startled. "What, does this mean you trust me?"

"Yes, I do. You informed on Spink. You have ethics, and are a world-class hacker."

"In that case, who set fire to my flat?"

His gaze remained steady. "I have a sergeant working on that as we speak. He's checking the surveillance tapes. When we know, we'll make an arrest, and then find out why."

Abbeys eyes widened and her mouth opened. "You're a scheming old fart. You know the answer to a question before you ask."

"Yes or no?"

"I'm sure you understand my reluctance. Is it against the law?"

"It's not official. Let's say you are working for me."

She paused. Was this a trap? What did he want? "Okay, I'll do it just for the hell of it. What's in it for me?"

His eyes fixed on her. "The name of an arsonist."

I'll not tell a soul."

"Thanks." He smiled and shrugged as his face turned serious. "I want you to hack into our computer system and leave a message for the police commissioner."

"Why?"

"The force needs its computer security updated. I'm aware there are those in the media who use hackers to get information from our files. Most of our tech people live in the past. You, youngsters, are the future."

"You exaggerate my talents. What sort of message do you want me to leave?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something suitable. Oh, how will I know it's from you?"

"Believe me, you will. When would you want your boss to receive this message?"

"How long does it take to hack into a system?"

She shrugged. "Ten minutes, an hour if the firewalls are robust. I'm at university later."

"I don't think you should involve the university."

"Your tech literacy is unreal. I'll use a zombie server in Moscow or Beirut. Your people will not have a clue."

He glanced at his watch again. "Regrettably you are right, but, if you ever need the help of a friendly copper, you know where I am. I'll tell you when we find your arsonist."

She smiled for the first time. "If I need to contact you, I'm in deep shit. Bye."

Annie knocked and stuck her head around the door. "You have a meeting with the assistant commissioner, like now."

"Thank you, Annie. Miss Lane is ready to leave."

Abbey stood, turned and walked out without a word.

***

Abbey descended into Westminster Underground and boarded the first train to Aldgate East. When she entered the red brick Victorian building, she asked at reception. "Is Mr Peters free?"

"He's been expecting you."

"How come?"

"Didn't you know the local radio mentioned your house fire?"

"Must have been a slow news day."

She lifted the phone and pressed a memory key. "Miss Abbey Lane is in reception."

She paused. "Excellent, Mr Peters. I'll send her straight up."

Abbey climbed the stairs to his office. Peters waited with the door open. He motioned for her to enter. "You look well. What can I do for you?"

He pointed to a chair, returning to his.

"You could tell me my flat is still insured."

Peters nodded as he talked. "Every contract related to your home was void on the last day of the month you became the owner."

"I thought you might say that. Is there any chance my father might help? After all, it's only money, and he had plenty."

"There lies the problem. You signed all your rights away when you were last here."

Abbey gazed at him. "Can you help me?"

A smile spread across his face. "On your behalf, I will contact and place a claim on your father's estate. I will state that he has not made reasonable provision for your needs. He wrung his hands. "But, I promise nothing."

"Let me get this right. You're going to contest his will."

Peters grimaced. "I doubt his heirs would appreciate any adverse publicity. I'm a solicitor who learnt to play poker with the best. I keep my cards close to my chest and smile. I do not work for them anymore, and I'm looking forward to the fight."

"Thank you. If I don't hear from you, I'll understand."

"Not so fast young lady. Listen to me. These things take time. First, I plant a seed and let it grow. With luck, it might produce a good crop. But as the good book tells us, the seed may fall on barren ground."

Abbey smiled. "I pray your letter works."

Peters sighed, he had a feeling they would ignore his request. "When Pandora's Box closed, all it contained was hope. We have plenty of that."

"It's better than nothing."

"Don't worry; I'm going to devote my full attention to claiming your inheritance."

"I can't pay you."

"If I win, we can discuss my fee. Remember what Nelson Mandela said. It's only impossible until it is done."

She pressed her lips together, nodded. "Whatever happens, thank you?"

The weather had changed. It was now much more refreshing, and the wind gusted. Since talking to Mr Peters, Abbey's mood had lightened and with purpose in her stride, she made way her to the university.