Absent Light by Eve Isherwood

got too close to Jacks. He overstepped the mark to protect his informant, for God’s sake.”
    She spread her hands. “He believed it to be in a noble cause.”
    â€œHis own,” Stratton said with a steely glare. “And everyone knows that noble-cause corruption is only the first step to financial or worse. If he was that bloody innocent, why did he resign instead of fighting his corner?”
    â€œAt least he didn’t go on the grounds of ill-health,” she said: the classic get-out clause for dodgy officers.
    â€œHe went before he was pushed.”
    She sighed. How could she defend the indefensible? And why the hell was she defending Adam Roscoe, in any case? He hadn’t done her any favours.
    Stratton glanced away. She was quick to pick up on it. “Is there something else?”
    â€œLast I heard, he went out to Iraq.”
    â€œIraq?” she gasped.
    â€œThere’s good money to be had – if you can stay alive.”
    Maybe he doesn’t care any more, she thought. Adam always was a risk-taker. He liked the buzz, the power it conferred. Contrary to what some had hinted at, he’d never displayed much interest in money. That wasn’t what motivated him. “What about the others?”
    â€œApart from a couple of officers who left of their own accord, everyone directly connected to the case has kept their jobs. In some cases they’ve moved higher up the food-chain.”
    â€œGlad to see putting my neck on the block made such a stunning difference.”
    His eyes connected with hers. “It made the difference, all right.”
    â€œAnother enquiry, another report and, in the meantime, everyone’s got smarter at covering their arses.” She said it smilingly in an attempt to disguise the spike in her voice.
    â€œI mean you caused a cultural shift,” he parried.
    She gave a deep sigh. “The police will never dispense with informers, registered or otherwise.”
    â€œWith good reason, Helen,” Stratton said with more than a hint of irritation. “Most police work is human intelligence gathering. Sure, technology and systems have a valid role, but nothing beats solid information. It’s why informers play a routine part in lots of criminal investigations. They’re a necessary evil. Without them, information dries up and crime increases, and they’re a damn sight more useful on the street than banged up in prison but, believe me,” he added, “no one wants a repeat of the Jacks case.”
    â€œIn case the lawyers come down on you?”
    â€œUnlike you to be so cynical.”
    â€œSorry,” she muttered, catching too late the humour in his eyes. Oh God, she thought, would there ever be a time when she could talk rationally about it without getting this exercised?
    â€œWe’re better trained now,” Stratton said, “more informed about the inherent risks. Less experienced officers are more likely to listen to advice from superiors and less likely to make deals they can’t possibly keep. There’s been a real clampdown on backhanders and soft jail terms.”
    I’ve heard it all before, she thought, sipping her coffee thoughtfully. She didn’t say anything. Sometimes it was better to let an argument go, especially one with such high emotional stakes. “You ever hear from Elaine?”
    â€œShe works for West Mercia now. Seems happy enough. Not so much blood and guts,” he said, cracking a warm smile. She smiled back. “I’m not attempting to play this down, Helen,” he said, reaching over and touching her hand. “I’m just trying to help you see what’s behind it.” His eyes were softer now. As she looked into them, she knew he was batting for her. She glanced down at his hand over hers. The skin felt warm and supple. But it shouldn’t be there, she thought warily, abruptly pulling away. He seemed not to notice.
    â€œI’m