His speech outside the boxing club his father paid for, along with the myriad of arrests, had calmed things far more than she could have guessed. After a week of recriminations and accusations, it also meant the police’s day-to-day workload was more or less back to normal. That didn’t mean they had got anywhere. No useable fingerprints had been recovered from the sink and the fire door had provided them with nothing either. Hours had been put into scouring the local CCTV footage and, although they had a few hooded figures hurrying around the surrounding streets during the early hours when Nicholas had been killed, there was nothing specifically to say they were anything other than people heading home after a night out. Jessica stared at herself in the washroom mirror, thinking how everything from the past few weeks had aged her. She had even started wearing make-up to cover the paleness under her eyes, knowing she should visit a doctor soon.
