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news on eight occasions, and he remembered each one with startling clarity. He liked to think he had handled each case as well as could be expected. The key was not to allow your face to deliver your message and not to procrastinate. The soon to be grieving loved one might have no idea what had happened to their partner/parent/child but the arrival of a police officer at the door conjures specific images. You had to get in and deliver your news before the recipient's imagination could spiral out of control.

Procrastination was unfair to the recipient of the news. Yet, here Norris was, floundering under the weight of the information he had come to deliver.

Stanton looked to her superior. Ndidi knew the DI had only recently been promoted from Detective Sergent to Ndidi's level (replacing the DI who had been bumped up to DCI to fill Hammond's shoes). He hadn't worked with her previously but knew by reputation she was hard-working, professional, and sharp. He got the impression she could have handled this situation just fine. But she was afraid to overstep her mark with Norris in the room. She obviously didn't know Norris well. He had never liked this aspect of the job. He had been happy to delegate it almost entirely to subordinates the moment he reached his current level. Had Stanton taken over in the early hours of this dreadful morning, Norris would have had to resist the urge to release a sigh of relief. But Stanton had clearly spent too much time working with Kilman. A man Ndidi knew could lose his temper if he believed a subordinate was stepping on his toes.

Luckily, Ndidi knew more than Stanton and Norris realised. He wasn't on the sofa and wasn't afraid of overstepping any marks. So he leaned in to offer Norris some relief.

"The kidnappers called, not long before you arrived."

Stanton kept her face stoic. Norris' eyes widened, and his jaw slackened a little. In the face of that response, Ndidi found himself once again thinking of Kilman, the man now lying in a hospital bed, fighting for his life because of Ndidi. Many people disliked Kilman, but the fact remained he had been the best detective in the area for a long time. Though he was several years younger than Norris, he was promoted faster, becoming Detective Chief Inspector two years before the Superintendent. When the Superintendent role became available, a few people murmured that Kilman should get the nod, but that would never happen. It was well known that the further up the ranks you climbed within the police force, the less the job became about police work and the more about politics. Kilman was the far superior police officer, but Norris was the one who kept in friendly with the higher-ups.

When the job became available, Norris' only threat was superstar Hammond. A man who excelled at both the police and political sides of the job. He missed out only on virtue of being over a decade younger than Norris. When the position became available, Hammond had only been DCI for three months.

And thank the Lord for that, thought Ndidi.

Stanton's face was struggling to keep its cool as Norris continued to fail to discharge his duties.

Ndidi stepped into the breach again. "They told me what happened. That police officers tracked the heist to the hideout, then stormed in and arrested all those who had participated in the robbery."

Now Norris did open his mouth. Ndidi saw protests on his lips and knew precisely what the Superintendent was going to say.

"I know that was the plan, Superintendent," Ndidi said, cutting off any protests, "and I'm not angry. I'm upset and afraid for my daughter, but I know your officers did everything they could. It wasn't your fault the kidnappers were holding Isabella elsewhere."

"She wasn't there," said Norris, as though this wasn't what Ndidi had said. "Five people committed the heist. We expected them to return to their comrades, but they stopped at an empty warehouse. I must admit I was rather hoping five was the lot."

His eyes flicked away from Ndidi to the wall, and Ndidi knew the Superintendent was considering how this would look for him, what it would do to his career. When Ndidi had suggested his compromise the previous day, he had known Norris would be lost. The Superintendent didn't know what the best course was in terms of PR, so tried to stall. But he couldn't. There wasn't the time. As plan B, he had called in Kilman, and Kilman did as Ndidi expected. The plan was rejected. Until Kilman was no longer in the picture.

"At least you caught some of them and retrieved the money," said Ndidi, his voice calm, level, though he was fighting not to shake.

"Yeah, except the guys at Lucky Draw won't press charges. Those bastards. And the money will have to go back even though we know it's dirty. We'll almost certainly have to release the crooks we caught. None of them was armed, you know? And to make matters worse now, we have—"

"Sir."

Stanton's voice was soft but firm. No longer was she able to sit back and watch Norris trail off in this unprofessional manner. He wouldn't have done it if Ndidi was a civilian. He had forgotten in what capacity they were visiting the detective inspector.

The soft word, spoken from the woman to his right, was enough. Norris cleared his throat and gave a curt nod.

"I'm sorry. That's not for now, of course. Stanton, why don't you..." he cleared his throat again. Nodded again. Then fell silent.

"You know everything that happened from our end," said Stanton. "Will you tell us what the kidnappers said?"

Ndidi opened his mouth to answer right away, then hesitated. His eyes flicked across the room to Evans, who showed nothing. But Ndidi had no doubt the corrupt bastard would report everything he heard straight back to his paymasters the moment this meeting was over.

Ndidi probably wouldn't have asked for help, even if he was alone

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