Джеффри Арчер: Hidden in Plain Sight

‘You can tell Tim I’ve been giving the idea some serious thought recently,’ said William quietly.

A puzzled look appeared on Beth’s face. ‘Why recently?’

‘We’ve got a bent copper on our team, and one of us will have to go.’

‘But why should it be you? You haven’t done anything wrong.’

‘Because I’m not willing to turn a blind eye, and that’s what I’d have to do if I decided to remain on the force.’

‘How sad,’ said Beth, almost to herself.

‘I thought you’d be delighted to learn that I’m thinking about packing it in.’

‘I am. But I wouldn’t want to wake up every morning with a disgruntled caveman beside me, especially now the press are saying you’re in line to become the youngest detective inspector in the Met’s history!’

‘But at what price?’

‘Perhaps you should talk it over with your father before you come to a decision you’ll later regret.’

‘Almost his exact words. But I can’t think of anything that would make me change my mind.’

Artemisia began to cry, quickly followed by Peter Paul.

‘They’re clearly going to work in tandem to attract our attention,’ said Beth.

She and William handed the twins to the midwife, who quickly calmed them down before placing them gently in their cots. ‘Perhaps it’s time for your wife to rest,’ she suggested before leaving the room.

‘But not before we’ve checked to see if you’re already yesterday’s news,’ said Beth, flicking on the television to see a red double-decker bus disappearing off one side of the screen.

‘Well, I guess that’s the last we’re going to see of you,’ she sighed. She was about to switch off the television when the newsreader said, ‘Some breaking news has just come in. A prisoner has escaped from Pentonville jail.’

Miles Faulkner’s face filled the screen.