For Reasons Unknown: A gripping crime debut that keeps you guessing until the last page

To Matilda, Valerie looked much older than her fifty-three years. She was thinner than the last time they’d met, and she had more wrinkles, as if she had a slow puncture. Matilda briefly wondered if Valerie was thinking similar negative remarks about her; Can she tell I’ve put on weight. Is my hair a mess? Have I aged much?

‘You’re looking very well,’ Valerie lied convincingly.

‘Thank you. I feel well,’ Matilda lied back.

Valerie Masterson, a caffeine addict, did not like the black goo that came out of the vending machines dotted around the police station, so had her own personal Gaggia in her office. She poured them both a medium-sized cup, white with one sugar for herself and, remembering, black for Matilda.

‘So, your first day back. Are you ready for this?’

‘I really am. I want to put this past year behind me and get back to normal as quickly as possible.’

‘I’m sure you do. Unfortunately, I can’t return you to active duty just yet.’

The painted-on smile suddenly fell from Matilda’s face. ‘Why not? We discussed on the phone last week…’

‘What I mean is that I have to adhere to the conditions laid out in your psychiatric report.’

‘My what?’

Valerie leaned forward and pulled a brown folder from deep within her in tray. She took out the five-page report and began skimming through it.

Matilda was itching to lean across the desk, snatch the report from her, and find out what that belittling therapist had been saying about her.

‘Now there’s no need to worry. I don’t know any of the details of your sessions with Dr Warminster. Those, as you know, are private. However, Dr Warminster was asked to submit a report before you returned to work; giving her opinion on your readiness and the level of workload you would be able to cope with.’

‘She’s not happy with me returning to full-time duty?’ Beneath the desk Matilda screwed her hands into tight fists, her fingernails digging hard into her palms. Her knuckles were white. The pain ran up her arms and she could almost feel the instant relief.

‘Not at all. She has written a glowing report. She admires your courage and your recovery.’ The ACC smiled.

Was that a genuine smile or was it forced? There was no wrinkling around the eyes to express a sincere smile, but then there wasn’t much room on her face for more wrinkles. Matilda chastised herself for letting her mind wander. ‘But…’

‘She just doesn’t think you should be running a major department straightaway. She recommends you be eased back into work slowly, and I tend to agree.’

‘Is this a cosy way of telling me I’m being demoted?’ Throughout her nine months away, one of the main issues on Matilda’s mind was being stripped of the Detective Chief Inspector title she had worked so hard to achieve.

‘You are not being demoted Matilda. You are one of South Yorkshire’s leading DCIs. You’re well known for your work and dedication. But I can’t have you handling a major investigation until all parties concerned know you are ready to do so.’

‘All parties?’

‘You, me, Dr Warminster, the Chief Constable. We are all behind you one hundred per cent.’

Newcastle, Bute, Grenville, Rockingham, Pitt the Elder, she said to herself. Why was the mere mention of her therapist’s name causing her such anxiety? She managed to control her stress by reciting the names of British Prime Ministers; a technique suggested by Dr Warminster in the first place.

Matilda knew that the support of her superiors was a hollow promise. Yes, she had made a mistake. Yes, she had suffered for it. ‘Look, there’s no denying I’ve changed in the past year, but I am still a DCI. I’m still capable of doing my job. If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t be here now. I know I can do this.’ She wondered who she was trying to convince.

Valerie reached into her top drawer and pulled out a thick file. The folder had seen better days and was covered in coffee-mug rings and splashes. ‘Do you remember the Harkness killings?’ she asked, interlocking her fingers and resting her hands on top of the file.

Matilda knew where this was going. ‘You’re giving me a cold case aren’t you?’

‘I just want you to look at it. A month, six weeks at the most.’

‘Is there any new evidence?’

Valerie looked down at the file. ‘Not as such.’

‘What does that mean?’ Matilda folded her arms. She could feel the prickling heat in the back of her neck.

‘Do you know the case?’

‘Everybody does. It’s part of Sheffield folklore.’

‘The house is being demolished tomorrow.’

‘About time.’

‘I had a reporter on the phone from The Star last week asking if the case was up for review.’

‘I’m guessing that it is now.’

‘Due to budget cuts we no longer have an active review board looking at resting cases. The house being demolished isn’t only going to have local interest but national too. It was a big story. I don’t want them thinking people can get away with murder in South Yorkshire.’

‘So it’s a PR exercise?’

‘Matilda, I believe this case can be solved. It may have been a long time ago but the killer is within these files. I know it. If anyone can find the killer of Stefan and Miranda Harkness, it’s you.’

Matilda knew she was being placated. With the botched Carl Meagan kidnapping still fresh in the minds of the Sheffield people it would not look good if a DCI with a heavy cloud over her head was leading a major investigation. If, on the other hand, she could solve a well-known cold case there would be smiles all round. She reached forward for the file, but pulled her hand back quickly.

Grafton, North, Wentworth, Petty, North and Fox.

‘I’ll need a DC.’

‘I’ll assign one to you.’

‘And an office to work in.’

‘Not a problem.’

‘Where’s all the evidence?’

‘On its way from storage. You’ll have access to everything pertaining to the Harkness case and carte blanche on interviews.’

Matilda rolled her eyes. The files were on their way. The decision had already been made. She began to wonder if this was the beginning of the end for her. Did anyone want to work with her any more? ‘What if I can’t solve it?’

‘I have faith in you.’

‘That’s not what I asked.’

‘Then it remains a cold case.’