Chief Inspector Joyce Parsons and Sergeant Jacobs sat in the interview room.

She nodded to the young uniformed officer. "We've kept them twiddling their thumbs long enough. Go get Christabel Anderson and her solicitor."

"Yes, mam."

Five minutes elapsed before the door opened again.

A red-haired woman in her early twenties sauntered in. She wore a tight-fitting red dress, revealing more of her bust than it should have.

Joyce nodded, well aware the dress was expensive.

"What the fuck's going on? Couldn't even have a fag. I come here to help you lot, and you keep me waiting for half an hour."

Wearing a tailored dark suit, Jeromy Charters, with a gentle shove, guided the woman to a chair. "Good morning, and congratulations on your promotion, Chief Inspector. Miss Anderson, I'm sure there is a good reason why we had to wait. I suggest you calm yourself and have a cigarette."

"Thank you for sparing us your time, Miss Anderson. If you must smoke, please use the bin at the side of this table as an ashtray." She knew Charters. He represented those who paid well for his knowledge. She noted his hair was becoming greyer, and too much expensive food now presented as a bulge around his middle.

"I need to refresh my mind on what happened to Stuart Maynard.

You told one of my officers you were laughing and dancing to the music moments before he collapsed. You said you shouted at him to stop fucking about, but he remained still when you nudged him with your foot. Am I right or wrong?"

She glared at Joyce. "I don't fucking lie. I suppose it's what happened."

Joyce smiled. "Did you see anyone you knew near you?"

"I know most regulars by sight if not by name."

"What did you think when Stuart fell to the floor?"

"I thought he was pissed."

"Does he usually drink too much on a night out?"

"We all do. Getting rat-arsed is the name of the game."

"Forgive me, but the dress you're wearing is a gorgeous colour. Where did you buy it?"

Her eyes rolled. "I've no idea. One of the fellows I go out with gave it to me. I've loads."

"Was this guy in the club on the evening of the stabbing?"

"Can't say he was or wasn't. I was on the pull and playing this guy, making promises I'd never keep. I did tell him I never have sex on a first date, but as usual, he thought I was playing hard to get."

Joyce leant back in her chair. "So why do you think he was stabbed?"

"How the hell would I know? Maybe he owed money to the wrong people."

"The wrong people," said Jacobs. "Do you know them?"

"I know lots of people. I can't be expected to remember them."

Jacobs turned to Joyce. "Sorry, Guv. Had a dodgy ruby last night. I need to leave."

Christabel laughed.

Joyce nodded. "Sergeant Jacobs is leaving the room. I'm asking the constable to join the interview team until my sergeant returns."

Jacobs hurried out of the room.

"Do you use drugs, Miss Anderson?"

"Don't answer the question," said Charters.

Christabel glowered at her. "I get pissed and have a good time with whom I choose. Drugs are bad news. I want to wake up in the morning."

"Wise words from a woman who plays the field."

"I'm choosy who slides beneath my sheets. They must have a few quid if they want what I offer."

"I'm in the wrong business," muttered Joyce.

Christabel chuckled. "You're past your sell-by date, Chief Inspector."

Joyce shrugged. "I may be, but I'm this side of the table. Where do you think you will be in ten years?"

"How do you mean?"

"You don't have to answer," said Charters.

After a few moments of silence, Christabel placed both hands on the table. "I'll be married to someone with a large bank account and enjoying all life's luxuries. You will still be on the other side of this table."

"You may be right," said Joyce. "I'll end this session but may need to speak to you again."

"Why? All I did was dance with the guy. Not my fault he was stabbed."

You may be correct in your assumption, but you might be lying. I believe you know who stabbed Stuart and why. Be careful, or you could be next."

He won't touch me. I know the right people."

"So, you do know who stabbed Stuart."

"If I did, do you think I would tell the likes of you? Get a life." She turned to her brief. "So, can I leave?"

"I have no further questions. You are free to leave along with Mr Charters."

Joyce watched them leave and waited for Jacobs to return.

A few minutes later, he entered the room. "You were spot on. Lady Muck was driven here by Charters in his Bentley. She sat in the rear seat when they left, acting like she was something special."

"He's the legal beagle for the Watsons, and a pound to a penny, she's sleeping with one of the sons. She plays a dangerous game. She'll be another body under a motorway in a couple of years."

Jacobs chuckled. "As she leant forward, I thought her tits would fall out."

"Dirty thoughts will get you into trouble, sergeant."

"Only if the wife finds out."

"It's much safer if you keep it in your trousers. Anyway, I want you to find out where Watson's two sons were at the time of the stabbing."

"Will do, guv."

They were both smiling when they left the room.

***

Rupert seated himself, leaned back in his chair and loosened his tie.

Maggie, Julie, Linda and Wendy, each carrying a chair, entered the office.

When they were all seated, he smiled. "You all know who I am, and this is my first staff meeting." He gazed at the rows of steel cabinets in the main room. "Thank you for putting up with the chaos of the day. Concerning the mountain of rubbish, I'll have the cleaners authorised to remove it and hoover the carpet. It's not your job. You are here to bring together years of records. I'm here to make sure we can find them as and when required by investigating officers. You will organise those files into cold cases and criminal records as separate teams. Maggie and Julie will check out every cold case. Linda and Wendy will manage the criminal records. I know it will take time before we have a working system. Time, however, is a luxury we do not have. The Chief Constable wants us up and running by the end of the month." He saw the look of disbelief on their faces. "I agree, but what can we achieve? Any ideas? Maggie, you first."

She looked up at the ceiling. "Dumps, sir."

"Please explain."

Maggie took a deep breath. "As the files arrive, we dump them still in their boxes in their designated area. When completed, we begin the actual filing."

Rupert made a note on his pad. "Makes sense. Any questions?"

Julie raised her hand. "We'll need a box of black marker pens."

"Right, Julie, you make sure we have more than enough."

"Yes, sir."

Wendy raised her hand and dropped it onto her lap.

"Wendy, you have something to say?"

She looked straight at him. "Yes, sir. I understand the team's idea, but why can't we work together? As a team, we will all become accustomed to the location of the files."

Again, he asked, "Any questions? You must have something to say. This meeting is to discuss the policies we establish to run an efficient department. It would be easy for me to tell you what to do and when. My previous occupation was catching criminals, not running a records office. I'm prepared to listen and learn, but I need your help. Talking freely with each other will achieve a system which we can all agree on."

Linda laughed. "In all honesty, sir, we're used to being told, not asked."

"I ask because I need to know."

The floodgates opened as each one of them presented suggestions for consideration.

It was approaching five in the afternoon when Rupert ended the meeting. "Thank you. I'll draft the official rules for you to read and discuss tomorrow. I've a feeling tomorrow will be another long and busy day. Go home and relax. Enjoy your evening."

Maggie waited for the others to leave. "Boss, my home phone is starting to ring, and when I pick up, I hear laughing. I recognise who it is. It's the bastard who raped me."

"You can't prove it is him. We need evidence and for him to make a mistake. I suggest you keep your answering machine on and log all calls. You and I know there's no point in placing a trace on the line. Keep smiling, Maggie; he will fuck up. Those types always do."