MURDER most cryptic

When it came to cracking the crime, did Judy have the solution?

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Mac was a good cop. One of the best cops I knew.’

Knew. Past tense. Walking into the crime scene with Detective Sergeant Tony Matthews at her side, Detective Inspector Judy Peterson was grateful for the mask she wore, along with overshoes and gloves. She needed it all to help disguise the raw emotion in her voice.

The two of them moved down the hall of the flat, heading towards the lounge-diner at the end. As they went, they had to step over papers and books that had been thrown to the floor during what must have been a frantic search.

Spring sunshine streamed in through the lounge-diner’s large, south-facing windows, a shocking contrast to the scene that met Judy’s eyes.

Detective Inspector ‘Mac’ McDuff – his real first name had been forgotten long ago – lay slumped on one of the chairs at the dining table. His head fell back, his arms hung down to either side. He’d been shot twice in the chest.

‘You knew him well?’ Tony asked.

‘He was my mentor in my early days in the job,’ she said. ‘More than 25 years ago.’

Close to retirement now, he worked – had worked, she reminded herself, a lump forming in her throat – on cold cases, murders and other unsolved crimes. But more than that, he’d been a father figure to her. Always kind, he’d helped and guided her in the career she loved.