Hope to Die

‘She may look like Miss Marple must have done at thirty-five, but she’s every bit as relentless. Or as Gis always puts it, Ev was definitely a bloodhound in a previous life.’

Name

DC Andrew Baxter

Age

39

Married?

Yes, but no children.

Personality

Stolid but dependable. Good with computers so often gets lumbered with that sort of stuff.

‘A solid man in a suit that’s a bit too small for him. The buttons on his shirt gape slightly. Balding, a little out of breath. Halfway to high blood pressure.’

Name

DC Erica Somer

Age

29

Married?

In a relationship with a

DI

in Hampshire Police, Giles Saumarez.

Personality

Her surname is an anagram of ‘Morse’ – my nod to Oxford’s greatest detective. In the last book, Erica discovered she had cysts on her ovaries and was sent for an

MRI

. She also had an argument with another Thames Valley officer which has resulted in a disciplinary process.

Name

DC Thomas Hansen

Age

25

Personality

Just transferred into Fawley’s team, after

DC

Asante moved sideways into Major Crimes. Previously at Cowley. Shrewd, understated and effective.

Name

DC Chloe Sargent

Age

24

Personality

On secondment with Fawley’s team. She was previously in the

PVP

(Protecting Vulnerable People) unit. Tough but kind, hard-working and insightful.

Name

DC Bradley Carter

Age

23

Personality

Temporarily covering for

DC

Somer and determined to make the most of it. Ambitious and out to impress.

The other members of the team are Alan Challow, Nina Mukerjee and Clive Conway, in the CSI department, Colin Boddie, the pathologist, and Bryan Gow, the profiler.

It’s a perfect night for it. No cloud, and barely any moonlight. Though cold comes with clear skies – they said on the radio it could hit freezing tonight. But he’s done this before and he’s come prepared. The backpack is digging into one shoulder and he hoists it a little higher, then starts off again. His stride is sure, despite the dark: he knows where he’s going – he did the full recce a couple of days ago. All the same, it’s hard slow-going at night, especially with all this kit. But he made allowances for that, and in any case, this game is all about patience. The right time, the right place, the right conditions.

The path is winding up through the woods now, and he feels the earth give like mattress beneath his feet; generations of leaf litter compressed to sponge. There are owls calling to each other, invisible in the thickets above his head, and small animals moving in the undergrowth, and – louder than any of them – the thud of his own heart. When he breaks through the treeline at last he stops on the ridge and inhales deeply on the cold damp air, peppered with woodsmoke from the house in the valley below. There’s nowhere else for miles – the only sign of habitation is a scattering of lights on distant hills, mirroring the constellations. It’s completely silent now, out in the open. Not a wisp of wind, just the earth breathing.

He scans the sky for a moment, then swings down the backpack and crouches next to it, flicking on his torch. He pulls out his mount and night-sight and, his excitement growing, starts to snap them together.

Adam Fawley

21 October

21.15

‘So what do you think? I know Ben’s really young to be a godparent, but if it hadn’t been for him –’

I load the last of the supper plates and straighten up. Alex is watching me from the other side of the kitchen. She looks a little apprehensive, though I don’t know why: she can’t really think I’d say no.

‘Of course – I think it’s a great idea.’