Cold Kill by Stephen Leather

had sounded defensive. Kathy Gift had the knack of making him feel guilty even when he knew there was no reason for it.
    ‘Two years is a long time to grieve.’
    ‘I’m not grieving,’ said Shepherd, quickly. ‘Sue died. Since then I’ve been working flat out. And when I’m not working, I’m with Liam. Anyway, you’re the unit’s psychologist, not a Relate counsellor.’
    ‘I need to look at the whole person,’ said Gift, patiently. ‘When you’re undercover you have to adopt a complete personality, don’t you? If one thing isn’t right, your cover can be blown.’
    ‘And because I’m not going around bonking everything in a skirt, I’ve got a problem?’
    ‘There’s nothing wrong with being celibate, provided it’s for the right reason.’
    Shepherd leaned back and grinned. ‘Is that what I am? A monk?’
    ‘We’re just talking here, Dan. I’d be more worried if you were having a string of one-night stands.’
    ‘That’s something,’ said Shepherd. He finished his toast. ‘You never ask about the important stuff, do you?’
    ‘Such as?’
    ‘My performance on the range. My fitness. I’m as good a shot as I was in the SAS, and I’m faster over five miles than I was a year ago.’
    ‘You have an annual physical, don’t you?’ said Gift. ‘I’m solely concerned with your mental well-being.’
    ‘So, show me some ink blots or something.’
    ‘You always use humour as a defence mechanism, don’t you?’
    ‘Damn right,’ said Shepherd. ‘Guns are just plain messy.’
    Gift smiled. She put her notepad and pen into her briefcase, drank the last of her coffee and stood up.
    ‘That’s it?’ said Shepherd.
    ‘You seem fine to me,’ said Gift, putting on her raincoat. ‘As bloody-minded as always, but in your line of work . . .’ She left the sentence unfinished, but extended her hand. Shepherd stood up and shook it, then walked her to the front door. ‘Joking apart, Dan, you should get out more.’
    ‘I run,’ he said.
    ‘You know what I mean. Socialise.’
    ‘You’re not asking me out, are you?’ said Shepherd, with a grin.
    Gift’s cheeks reddened, but she laughed. ‘There’s your defence mechanism kicking in again,’ she said.
    Shepherd held open the door for her. ‘What if I did ask you out?’ he said.
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Dinner. Or a movie.’
    ‘Are you serious?’
    ‘Sure. We never have a problem finding something to talk about, do we?’
    Gift frowned, evidently trying to work out if he was serious or not. ‘It’s against protocol,’ she said eventually.
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Really.’
    ‘Okay.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘Pity.’
    Her frown deepened. ‘I’ve got to go,’ she said.
    Shepherd watched her walk down the path, high heels pecking at the flagstones. As she reached the car she dropped her keys and bent down hurriedly to retrieve them. She glanced over her shoulder as she straightened, then looked away quickly when she saw that Shepherd was watching her.
    Shepherd smiled to himself as he walked back to the kitchen. He’d been joking at first, but once he saw that she was considering his offer he’d wanted her to say yes. She was right, of course: there was no way that a police psychologist could go out with a man she was monitoring. She had to be impartial and independent: a date would be a clear conflict of interest.
    And she was right that it had been a long time since he’d gone out with a woman for anything other than professional reasons. The last time he’d seen a movie it had been with Sue. The last time he’d eaten Chinese food it had been with Sue. He hadn’t been on holiday since Sue’s death.
    He made himself a fresh cup of coffee. As he put away the milk and closed the fridge, he gazed at a photograph of his wife and son stuck to the door with a magnet in the shape of an apple. Liam was in fancy dress, wearing a pirate’s outfit and brandishing a plastic cutlass. Sue had her arm round him and she was smiling proudly at