Rupert was in the kitchen preparing dinner when Joyce arrived home. "What was your first day like, Chief Inspector?"

"I messed up." She heard him laugh.

"Don't tell me the phone rang, and you drove at speed to a crime scene."

On entering the kitchen, she asked. "Who told you?"

He turned and kissed her. "You could say it's the standard operating procedure for virgin DCIs. Done it and have the T-shirt. It shows enthusiasm for the job. You would have received a bigger bollocking if you hadn't gone. Who did what and when?"

"Carol Parmenter, one of my regulars on the Ridings Estate. Her partner and pimp knocked seven bells out of her if she didn't make enough money. She accidentally walked into his fist every Friday night but never pressed charges. Now, she never will. The bastard murdered her."

"How do you know it was him?"

"I don't, but I'll bet you a pound to a penny it was."

'"Can you prove it?"

"Didn't anyone tell you shit stinks, but I'll let you know after I find the creep. I'm going for a shower."

He chuckled. "You can shower when you've eaten my healthy Italian spaghetti carbonara and drunk a pinot grigio chilled to perfection."

She washed her hands at the sink. "I could get used to this."

He passed her a plate covered in freshly cooked food. "I thought I'd surprise you as it's your first day as a DCI."

He filled two wine glasses and handed one across. "To you and your promotion."

The glasses clinked.

"I'm looking forward to this." With her fork loaded, she sampled the meal. "Perfect."

With the meal over, Rupert filled their glasses. "Might as well finish the bottle. White wine never keeps well. Do you fancy an early night?

Joyce chuckled. "All you want to do is ravage my body."

"I will be in our bed when you shower."

She laughed. "I remember when I was sixteen and out on the pull. I could never understand some of my school pals who were happy with a quick knee-trembler behind the local Palais de dance or in the back of some crappy car. I never fancied outdoor sex. I much prefer silk sheets and a glass of wine after."

"Ancient history for both of us."

"Maybe, but you had a touch of style when we met."

"I was me and a virgin."

"You planned a weekend in a four-star hotel in Weymouth. It was rather obvious why but I knew I could always say no and leave or be a real arsehole and not turn up at the rail station."

"If I remember, we stayed in bed for over twenty-four hours."

"We didn't sleep much."

"We didn't want to. Well, I didn't. Go and have your shower."

Rupert washed in the kitchen. He lit three Lemon grass-scented tea candles in their bedroom and two Josh sticks, filling the air with cinnamon.

He removed a pill box from his bedside cabinet, removed one and placed it on his tongue.

When she entered the room, he lifted her off her feet and lowered her onto the mattress. He lowered his head and, with his tongue, kissed her nipples. As she softly moaned, he caressed her body with his lips and started his journey. He spent time kissing the inside of her thighs. When he found the spot, she bucked with a gentle moan. Her back arched as she wrapped her legs around him. With their bodies entwined, she relaxed and let his hands massage the inside of her thighs as his fingers pressed the buttons to short-circuit her mind.

For a moment, he stopped and waited. As she writhed against him, he entered.

With a gentle motion, they savoured every pulsating nerve. Her body trembled, legs held him. Her head rocked from side to side as her nervous system ran riot. She gave a high-pitched squeal and succumbed to its force, thrusting hard into his body.

Rupert pushed into her until an orgasm consumed her again, and he joined her.

Sated their bodies snuggled close as the moment continued.

One by one, the candles flickered and died.

Reality hit them both as the bedside telephone rang.

Rupert grabbed the handset. "Chief Superintendent Parsons speaking."

"Sorry to wake you. Can I speak to Chief Inspector Parsons?"

"One moment." Rupert handed the handset to Joyce.

"Who's speaking?"

"Roger, boss. We have found Carol Parameter, pimp."

"Thanks for letting me know, but couldn't this have waited until the morning?"

"The guvnor ordered me to let you know. There's a car on its way to collect you."

"I can drive."

The car is to bring you to the crime scene. Our suspect is in a bit of a mess."

"What's happened to him?"

"Someone secured him to the railway line and left the messy bit to the day's first train."

"Bloody hell. I have no sympathy for the creep, but it's not a way I would choose to end my life. Where are you?"

"At the eastern end of White Horse tunnel."

"See you soon, Roger." She tossed the handset on the bed and went to her wardrobe. "We need the handset transferred to my side. Thank God he didn't phone earlier."

Rupert chuckled. "You and me both. Coitus interruptus, I don't need."

She pulled on her dark blue jeans. "I don't know about you, but I was on another planet."

"I've no idea what you mean. Want a coffee."

"Love one."

She listened as his footsteps hit the stairs. "With luck, she might even drink it."

"Dressed and with her spare Wellington boots in a plastic shopping bag, she entered the kitchen.

"It's as you like it more hot milk than coffee."

The doorbell rang as she finished drinking. She kissed him on the lips. "I'll ring you once I know what's going down."

Joyce knew the driver. "Hi Rachel, I assume you know where we are going?"

"She smiled. "Yes, Boss. We should be there in forty–five minutes at night. Do you want the siren on?"

"Don't think it's necessary to wake up half the town."

Rachel stopped next to a British Transport Police van, three cars and a windowless vehicle from the local undertakers.

"Do you want me to stay, boss?"

Joyce opened the passenger door, removed her shoes and shoved her feet into her wellingtons. "Stay here, and I'll let you know."

"Good morning Guv."

"What good about getting me out of a nice warm bed."

Roger was already kitted out in a white one-piece coverall. "Point taken." He handed over a coverall. "We have plenty of time. The train driver told me he didn't see anything until too late. He applied the brakes but couldn't stop in time.

Initially, he thought it was a bag of rubbish. Only when he and the guard checked did they find the shredded parts of a body.

The train company are busy installing a generator and floodlights while our Scene Of Crime team is photographing the scene.

"Joyce turned to Roger. "Can we go to the tunnel entrance because this cool morning breeze reaches the parts it shouldn't?"

Roger shrugged. "Can't see it will do any harm. "

SOCO already trod the long, damp grass, and rail employees made descending the embankment tricky.

Roger laughed. "Easier descending than climbing."

Without any warning, the entrance to the tunnel lit up.

Joyce and Roger stood at the entrance. The train was visible from where they stood.

Three men carrying tool bags and wearing bright orange tops strolled out. One leant on the wall outside and vomited.

"You alright, Harry? "He stopped in front of Roger. "You the old bill.?"

"What do you think," the man shouted back. "Some geezer has been turned to mincemeat, and others are picking up the body parts. Dunno how they do it."

"We are," said Roger. "How bad is it in there?"

"Well, whoever tied the poor sod to the tracks. It's weird his hands and feet are still next to the track while the rest of the poor sod is everywhere."

Joyce gave a grim smile. "Thanks for rigging the lighting. It will help."

"Morning," said a man climbing the embankment. "Inspector Ian Stevens, Transport police. Your scene of crime officers and my team are working together. With luck, I'll be able to let you enter before the sun rises.

Joyce glanced at her watch. "How do you know it's Carol Parameter, pimp?"

From his pocket, Roger removed a plastic bag. Inside was a blood-covered driving licence. "To be fair, I did assume it belonged to the victim."

"I can't see the details in this light. If it's not him, it is another murder to solve. How about we sit in your car until we visit the crime scene?"

Roger rubbed his hands together. "It's not exactly the Bahamas out here. You never know; I might get an hour's kip."

They returned to his car. He sat in the rear seat and stretched out while Joyce tilted the passenger seat and attempted to get comfortable.

"How long have you been a detective?" she asked.

"Has to be fifteen years, and before you ask, I've lost count of the early morning I've spent up to my neck in other people's shit."

"Know what you mean. For me, every day has merged into the next. People have unbelievable lives and expect someone else to pull them out of the quicksand."

"Boss, if you don't mind."

"Sorry, Roger. I'll shut up."

From the rear seat, a gentle snoring filled the air.