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after a big fire like that to tell us who might have set it. I also knew from experience that there wasn't much in the way of useful CCTV near where the fire had happened, and it wouldn’t count as a serious enough incident to warrant getting forensics involved.

“They’ll get away with it, then,” I summed up, “unless a witness comes forward.”

“Yeah, they haven’t yet.” Stephen gave a broad-shouldered shrug. He had a cup of tea he was working through, and I headed off to get some caffeine for myself.

“They’ve got another one,” Stephen said when I came back, fresh coffee steaming in my hand.

“What now?”

“Big car accident. Joyriding teenagers high on something.”

“Great,” I sighed, taking a sip of coffee and burning my mouth. “Are we heading over?”

“You’re the boss,” Stephen said, looking amused.

“Oh, why not?” I shrugged. “Put it out on the radio. We can enjoy the car’s air conditioning on the way there.”

Stephen huffed a laugh, radioing in to let everyone know that we were going over to assist, and then we headed downstairs, out to the carpark. The tarmac was hot enough to shimmer in the distance, and I half-expected the soles of my boots to stick to the dark surface. The car had been sitting out in the sun, and getting in felt like climbing into an oven, the seatbelts too hot to hold.

“‘Enjoy the air conditioning,’ he said,” Stephen grumbled, his face florid as he shifted in the sticky seat, jabbing and fiddling with the air conditioning buttons as he tried to coax the car into cooling down faster. “Start driving, Mitch.”

“Aye, I’m doing it.”

We drove over towards the accident with the windows wound down, the breeze taking the edge off the heat while we waited for the air conditioning. A heat-heavy quiet settled between us as we savoured the rush of cool air. The wind would undoubtedly tangle my hair into a bird’s nest, but the relief was worth it. Stephen’s hair was cropped short enough that it’d look exactly the same, no matter what happened, and it certainly kept him cooler on a day like today. Regardless, I left the windows open even once the air conditioning had gotten going, spilling chilled air over my sticky hands where they rested on the steering wheel.

“No-one was badly injured, were they? In the collision?”

“Not that’s been on the radio,” Stephen said. “An ambulance went over, but I’ve not heard more.”

“Damn teenagers, I swear,” I muttered.

“They’ve always been the same,” Stephen said, his head tilted towards the open window. “Stirring up trouble like it’s their god-given right to create mayhem.”

I snorted at that. I’d dealt with enough sulky, rebellious teenagers over the years, all of whom seemed to think there was something unique in their kick-back against society.

“I bet you were never like that.”

“Of course not,” Stephen grinned. “I got my fill of violence and trouble-making at rugby.”

“Aye, I bet that was a teenage testosterone fest, Jesus.”

“At least it’s legal to give someone a bloody nose out on the pitch, y’know?” he teased back. “As long as you tackle whoever pissed you off in a convincing sort of way.”

“Telling me all your secrets today, Steph?” I said.

“It seems I am.” He grinned. “Should I be worried?”

“Definitely,” I laughed.

My thoughts turned back towards the joyriding teenagers we were heading out to deal with. They could probably do with taking part in some kind of high-energy contact sport too. Something vicious, like hockey.

“I hope you’ve signed your kids up for rugby or something,” I said. “They’re not gonna get to act out much, with a cop for a dad.”

“Yeah, damn right,” Stephen said, shaking his head. “They can dye their hair green, get piercings or whatever, but if they start turning up at the station, we’re gonna be having words.” He grimaced.

“Your kids wouldn’t, don’t worry, mate,” I said, catching the genuine concern in his tone. “You wouldn’t let it get that far.” I sent him a grin as I added, “Plus, they’re only tiddlers right now. You’ve got a while yet.”

“There’s that, at least,” Stephen said, releasing a dramatic breath of relief. “And, I can always threaten them with having to run laps against you if they start playing up.”

“Geez, thanks, Steph,” I snorted. “Exercise shouldn’t be punishment, you twit.”

“Yeah, yeah, rubbish,” he laughed.

We continued to bicker as I drove us over to the accident, the atmosphere between us sobering as we pulled up alongside. Stephen held his badge out of the car window so that we could go through the police tape, and I drew the car to a stop once we were past it.

Just as we were arriving, an ambulance pulled away, and I watched it go with a concerned frown, hoping that it’d turned up as a precautionary measure and that there wasn’t anyone inside it. Looking at the state of the cars, though, that might be an overly optimistic hope.

After the ambulance wove its way out between the traffic and sped off, I got a good look at the scene itself. The accident recovery teams were working quickly to get the road clear again, and one of the wrecked cars had already been towed to the side. The other vehicle, a banged-up thing that didn’t look like it had been road-worthy even before it was involved in a high-speed accident, was still squatting in the road, blocking the way.

Off to the side, on the dry, coarse grass of the verge, two officers were trying to deal with a group of teenagers, who looked to be anywhere between fourteen and eighteen. The officers were looking harassed and tired, and I looked back at Stephen.

“Let’s go and give them a hand.”

“Looks like they could do with it,” Stephen agreed, and we strode over. The heat was oppressive after the coolness of the air-conditioned car, and I started sweating immediately. But we had work to get on with right now, and I ignored my own discomfort to focus on what needed to be done.

“How’re you getting

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