She nodded and they hurried back to the vehicle.

“Why didn’t you tell them about Theo?” Marc asked.

“I will. But it’s not important at the minute. They’ll want a more detailed statement from us later. I’ll decide what to tell them then.”

“Why keep it secret?”

He exhaled. A long and weary sound. “Blyham police…it’s best to keep them at arm’s length.”

“You said you used to be police yourself.”

“Royal Navy Police,” he corrected. “Not the same, but I know enough about policing to know this lot are not to be trusted. They’re not all bad. There are some good officers on the force. But it’s rotten too. And when it comes to dealing with minorities, it’s got to be one ofthe worst in the country. You must have seen how badly they fucked up the Blyham Strangler case. How many men died before they took the threat seriously? Even then, they didn’t actually find the killer through police work, it was some potential victims and members of the public who caught the bastard.”

Marc watched him from the dark of the car. “What does that have to do with the murder tonight?”

“I would have thought it was obvious. It’s three months since your brother died and they haven’t brought in a single suspect for the hit-and-run. What does Theo have in common with the Blyham Strangler victims?”

Marc seemed to struggle with the answer, until, “He was gay.”

“Exactly. If I know this lot, they’ll have filed his case a few days after the crash, and no one will have bothered with it since. And now Dan, a gay sex worker. Black too. They won’t know how fast to write this off as a drug debt or gang vendetta and move on. But if they think we came to see Dan in connection with Theo, they’ll come down on us heavy. Especially if they find out we’re also interested in a certain politician.”

“So, we’re going to say nothing?”

“We’re going to say just enough.”

The windows were misting up. Jason wiped the condensation with his sleeve to get a better look.

“Turn on the engine to get this clear,” he said.

When visibility improved, he took in the latest scene. A plain clothes detective had arrived and was speaking to the uniformed officers. A PC pointed at Marc’s car and the detective turned to look, before entering the building.

“Well, at least that’s something,” he said, recognising the attending officer. “Benito Coppola. Detective sergeant.”

“You know him?”

“A bit. He’s one of the better ones. Conscientious. He does care about the victims. Unfortunately, he’s also brutally ambitious, which means he does what he’s told from above. He’s probably just the duty officer tonight. I doubt he’ll be involved in the case beyond managing the crime scene until CID come in tomorrow.”

Marc let out a long, mournful sigh and slumped back in his seat. He closed his eyes. In the dim light of the car, he appeared to have aged ten years.

“Are you all right?”

He kept his eyes closed and shook his head. “How can anyone be all right, after this.”

Jason put a hand on his brow. His skin was clammy and cold. “You need to get out of here and get dry. Give me a few minutes to clear it and we’ll be off.”

Jason got out of the car. The rain was heavier than before and colder too. He hurried over to the cordon and wasted no time arguing with the PC standing guard.

“I’m one of the witnesses,” Jason asserted. “I want to talk to DS Coppola.Now.”

After speaking into his radio, the stoney-faced PC raised the cordon tape and Jason ducked under.

DS Benito Coppola met him just inside the door. Benito was in his mid-thirties, very handsome with dark, Italian looks. He wasn’t Jason’s type, but he’d always had a strong respect for him as the only openly gay officer he was aware of on the Blyham police force. Unfortunately, his intent to climb the greasy pole all the way to the top kept Jason from ever fully trusting him.

“Is there anything else you need from us?”

“What’s your hurry?” Benito asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Marc is in shock. He’s not handling it well, and he’s also soaked to the skin. I need to get him somewhere dry and warm. We’ve already given our statements.”