Joyce drove to the station, her mind spinning with Rupert's comments. She knew he was right. Since her promotion, there was enough work on her desk to keep her busy for weeks. A couple of brutal rapes, a stabbing, and far too many burglaries. The problem was the lack of staff. There were never enough, but those young people who would make good coppers did not want to join the force. A standard nine-to-five job without the hassle of being spat at or, worse, violence.

Deep in thought, she failed to hear the desk sergeant say good morning. She was still studying Talbot's death. There were many questions which needed answers.

Inside her office, the first thing she did was telephone Arthur. He answered on the fourth ring.

"Morning, Arthur Cummings."

"Hi, it's Joyce Parsons. Any chance of getting some practice in this morning?"

There was a long pause before Arthur said anything. "I can give you half an hour from ten."

"Great. See you at ten." She hung up, thinking she was possibly wasting her time. She smiled to herself. What the hell? I'll continue to investigate until I nail whoever pulled the trigger.

Joyce drove towards the firing range with her bulletproof vest on the passenger seat with an itch that would not go away.

Wearing her vest, she entered the building. Her mind raced. She was about to face a professional with little evidence to support her theory.

"Good, You're on time," said Arthur.

Joyce noted there was an edge to his voice. "I always try to be. As you know, police work has its moments. The other night was a complete fuck up, and our investigations have hit a brick wall. Where are we today?"

"Pistol Range three. Glock practice."

Time was running about, but her dogged persistence would not concede she was attempting the impossible. The atmosphere between them was tense. "Arthur, I know you shot Talbot, but I'll never prove it. So, for now, you're as free as a bird."

"Don't give me that shit. If you're not here to arrest me. Fuck off, Chief Inspector, stop digging. In the old days, the good guys wore white, and the bad guys wore black suits. Today, we all wear the same. Do you believe certain officers have bought their wives expensive cars on police pay? Get a life. Talbot was a bent and rapist copper.

"Whoever shot him did the world a favour. What you believe you have on me won't get past the Crown Prosecutor. You know that, so why waste your time."

"I have a witness."

He stared at her. "Why don't I believe you?"

I have news footage of you entering a house before you came and stood next to me after you shot Talbot.

"No, you don't."

"I have, and you can see every minute of it at the station."

"Great try, Chief Inspector, but I'm older and wiser than you."

Arthur, I'm giving you a chance. How long could you survive in prison before someone stuck a blade into you? You were never a team player. Yet you completed many years in the army before you joined the force. A man of two halves. One we can see and the other unknown to most. Did you enjoy being a snipe, killing people?"

He half smiled as he toyed with the Glock in his hand. "The government paid me to do a job. Enjoyment never came into it."

Joyce paused, pondering her next move. Her eyes drifted to the Glock and a box of ammunition at the firing position.

"One move, and I'll put two bullets in your head. Your decision, die now or later."

"I'd prefer to live a long life. Your decision."

"I'm surprised you didn't arrive mob-handed. Arriving alone is not recommended in this situation. I gave you more credit than the standard tea-making female copper. I always remember my instructor at police college. "Sleep with them and have sex with them, but I advise never to marry one."

"Times have changed Arthur. We kick arse these days, and we choose who to sleep with."

He sneered as he aimed his Glock at her. "One gentle squeeze on the trigger, and you'll have nothing to worry about."

Joyce watched the range door open and Tony, the ex-para and security guard, creep inside. "She's not on her own, Arthur. You helped me get back on my feet. My return favour is letting you have thirty minutes to get out of here. Chief Inspector, stay where you are.

A stupid grin formed on Arthur's lips. "Sorry, Tony." Two rapid blasts destroyed the silence.

Joyce charged, grabbed Arthur by his jacket and pulled him towards her. At the same time, her right foot struck his balls. He crumpled onto both knees onto the painted concrete floor. Her right knee moved and remodelled his nose. His Glock skated across the floor.

Holding his crotch, he stood and grinned at her.

Fear filled her eyes.

"You need to practice kicking a football.

Her eyes scanned the floor, searching for his Glock.

"If you find it, I'll break your neck before you can aim. I have plenty of time."

Desperate, she attacked, clawing at his eyes with her fingers.

He stood there and punched her face again and again until she fell to the ground. Laughing, he strolled a short distance and retrieved his Glock. Stand astride her, he pointed the weapon down at her head.

One shot, its echo bounced off the walls.

Arthur stood there confused. Like a rag doll, he crumpled, his face smashing into the floor.

Dazed, Joyce crawled away from his body and forced herself to stand. On seeing the Glock still in his hand, she kicked it away. He did not move. Then she noticed the neat hole in the back of his head.

Tony groaned as he collapsed.

She staggered to his side. "Stay with me, Tony. I'll get help. With care and a ton of effort, she rolled him into the recovery position.

On opening the range door, she stumbled into a well-lit corridor.

"Bloody hell, missus, you look like you've had ten rounds with Mike Tyson.

Through half-shut eyes, she stared at a young-faced squaddie. "He lost. Lifting her right arm, she pointed. There's an injured man in there. Contact the police station and tell them Chief Inspector Parsons is injured and Arthur Cummings is dead. Also, we need an ambulance. Now go and make the calls."

She leaned against the wall, wanting to sleep, but she knew this wasn't the best of moves.

"I'll get someone to help you before I make the calls. Please, missus, don't die on me."

She listened to his footsteps as he ran away.