Joyce stood at the entrance to court number three. Memories of waiting to give evidence flooded back, something she had done far too many times. Again, she walked the length of the corridor and back.

When Samantha Harman exited the courtroom, Joyce managed to smile weakly.

"Another case of domestic abuse," said Samantha. "You should have given me a call. You know I would have rung you back. Follow me. I have booked a room for us to talk."

As Joyce entered the small room, she said, "It is important that we talk in private."

"I'm intrigued," said Samantha. "With Talbot gone, I didn't think I'd see you so soon. How's Maggie Bell?"

"Maggie is recovering from her ordeal, but I'm sure you know. I have one question to ask. Why were you in a doorway of the house opposite Maggie's?"

"I could say I wasn't, but you wouldn't have travelled so far without proof. It's pretty straight forward really. I spent a great deal of time and effort to get Talbot into court, and he goes mental and attacks one of his victims, holding her hostage. When I heard, I had to see this creature for myself."

Joyce smirked as she removed a photo from her bag and placed it on the table. "I know this is you. Did you enter the house?"

"I accept it looks like me, but why would I enter someone's house without permission?

"To kill Talbot."

"What?"

"You heard. You're an army marksman and have cups to prove it. You wanted to hang Talbot out to dry for his crimes against women. We both know his legal team would go for an insanity plea. The last thing you wanted was for him to be in a comfortable mental hospital until a psychoanalyst says he's fit to be let loose."

Samantha laughed. "I can tell you this. Aiming and hitting a plywood target, I'm good at. To kill a human being, even one as evil as Talbot, I could never pull the trigger.

Joyce raised her eyebrows and made a funny face. "You never answered my question."

Samantha shook her head in bewilderment. "What part of I never shot the man can't you understand? In answer to your question, my mother lives one street away, and I was on my way to her flat after collecting a bunch of flowers I ordered from the corner shop the day before. Take a look at your photos. I didn't know it was Talbot until I heard the news. Satisfied."

Joyce listened intently. "I am. I gave you the benefit of the doubt in my mind, but still, I needed to hear you say. Even my partner told me I was chasing shadows, but when it's all you have, you never give up. I'm at a dead end."

Samantha sighed. "I've been called many things but never a murderer. I sometimes wonder why I do what I do, and then another girl or woman is attacked and raped. Do you know how many rapists serve time in prison? Four per cent serve up to five years. Most women don't even report they have been raped, And do you know why?"

"Because the police don't believe them when they report it," said Joyce.

"You half right. If being raped isn't bad enough to go to court and have your life scrutinised by the defence council, usually a man, in detail, is OTT. Look at it this way. A man who has sex every night is one of the boys. If a woman does the same, she's a slag, the local bike or many other endearments. It's not fair, and before you say a word, I know life's not fair, but I'm determined to do something about it. When a serving police officer rapes a woman, fury and rage tears me apart. I am out to get him and hang him by the balls. If he heeds sex that badly, go and pay for the privilege. Rant over."

Joyce stood. "I'm sorry. I messed up and had no right to treat you as I did. I'm sure it applies to you. Some cases affect you more than others, and this one became personal. Please accept my apology."

"Accepted. I do understand, but where do you go from here?"

"Joyce shrugged. "I haven't a clue. The case will remain open but will be forgotten unless we receive further information. There is the conspiracy opinion, which is the police silenced Talbot because he would upset the apple cart. If it's correct, we will never discover the truth."

"Joyce, I enjoy working with you. You're a woman beating the men at their own game. Give Maggie my regards."

"It's time I left. You never know. Tomorrow might be a better day."

Samantha grinned. "Not a hope."

***

During Joyce's return to Beresford, her mind replayed the day of Talbot's demise. What had she missed? How did someone get into a position to fire the kill shot without a soul noticing? Inspector Jackson checked the rooftops and the houses three times. He wouldn't have missed anything, but the cupboard remained bare. With no reason apart from being annoyed at herself, she drove to where Maggie lived and parked her car.

She stood on the pavement and let her eyes scan the houses opposite, the drainage pipes on the first painted dark green and the other black. The shooter fired from the roof. How did he get there? "Well, it was not from the front," she said aloud. As she turned to leave, she saw the alleyway leading to the rear of the properties. With a shrug and nothing to lose, she walked through the alley to the single-lane access road. Finding the correct properties took moments. Casting her eyes over the first, all appeared as it should be. Peering at the second, the guttering sloped in the wrong direction.

"Can I help you?"

Joyce turned to face an elderly man. "I'm a police officer checking a few things concerning the problems of the other night." She removed her warrant card and held it so he could see.

"Chief Inspector, you're in the wrong place. The trouble was in the flat belonging to the female copper on the other side of the road."

"Correct, but in your opinion, what do you think of the blue guttering on," she pointed, "that house?"

"If it's like most around here, it needs cleaning and refitted."

She gave him one of her best smiles. "Why?"

"It slopes in the wrong direction. Water running from the roof will never run to the down pipe."

"Thank you."

Joyce made her way back to her car and contacted the station.

"Beresford Police Station, Sergeant Collins. Can I help you?"

"Sergeant, DCI Parsons. Will you ask Inspector Jackson to bring a cherry picker to the houses he checked for me? I need his help but do not want to leave the vicinity."

"I'll deal with it at once, guv."

Joyce returned to the front of the houses and pressed the bell push.

The door opened, and an old woman with a face wrinkled by time stared at her. "I recognise you from the other night. What do you want?"

I'm here to inform you that a team member will examine your roof when he arrives."

"Can you tell me when you will repair my window?"

"What happened to your window?" asked Joyce.

"It was damaged by one of your people. When you asked me to leave the other night, this tall man wearing a police flak jacket told me he had to check the house to ensure it was empty, so I let him go inside."

"He followed my orders, but what's wrong with your window?"

"It won't shut, and he left the back door wide open."

"I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Can I see the window, please?"

"It's my bedroom window. This way."

With Joyce following, they climbed the stairs and entered the front bedroom.

"I've never opened it because it sticks. When you allowed me back, I went to my bed. The wind must have changed direction because I woke up with a blood hurricane slamming my bedroom door shut. Scared the hell out of me."

With the woman complaining, Joyce looked across the road and straight into Maggie's lounge. She turned. "Could you recognise the officer who entered your home?"

"He was tall, and I want my window fixed."

"I promise that when my team arrives, They'll repair your window today. Can you please answer my question?"

"Can't say I can. I never took much notice when he elbowed past me and into my house."

Without touching anything, Joyce inspected the sill and window. Could she be so lucky that the potential killer left a fingerprint? She needed this lady to examine the news film until they discovered who entered the house. "Excuse me, but I do not know your name."

"Why don't you check your records?"

Joyce shrugged. "I left them on my desk. I was in a hurry. My fault."

The woman smiled, showing an assortment of yellow teeth. "You lot couldn't catch a cold. Elsie Mullins, Mrs."

A banging on the front door stopped the conversation.

Elsie peered out of the window. "It's your mates."

"From the noise I gathered, it might be them," said Joyce. Mrs Mullins, would you mind coming to the station and helping me? I'd like you to point out the officer who entered your home from their photographs.

She shook her head. "It's fish and chip night for pensioners at the chippy. You get ten per cent off and a bag of scraps thrown in. I don't have much money at the end of the week. Can't miss my treat."

Joyce took a deep breath. "Shall we go and let my team in? If you want fish and chips, I'll treat you, providing you come down to the station this evening. I'll throw in tea and white bread and butter. For a treat, we might have some cakes."

"I usually have a large cod, chips and a couple of pickled eggs. How will I get home?"

At the bottom of the stairs, Joyce stopped and turned. "At our own expense, we will use the local taxi firm. Is that acceptable?"

"I suppose so. As it's your people, you can open the door."

"I was going too."

"Inspector Jackson." Joyce stared at a bright yellow cherry picker. "Do you know if any of the team can mend a window? We damaged Mrs Mullins's window the other night, and now it won't close. Follow me. Mrs Mullins, do you mind if my inspector checks the window."

"Can he fix it?"

"Mrs Mullins," said Jackson. "Until I see the damage, I can't answer your question. You stay here with my boss. What room is it?"

She frowned. "Don't touch anything other than the window."

Jackson held his hand on his chest. "Cross my heart, love. I won't touch a thing."

Joyce pulled him to one side. "Full fingerprint check, so the force can charge whoever damaged the window."

Mrs Mullins lips tightened. "Don't want to cause any trouble."

"It'll teach him to be more careful next time," said Joyce as she watched Jackson disappear up the stairs. Mrs Mullins, when my inspector returns, I think we should go and buy your cod and chips and then go to the station where you can enjoy your meal."

"I can't leave my house."

"Mrs Mullins, my team will protect your home until you return."

She nodded. "I suppose if I can't trust the police, who can I?"