[prologue]

Trish was, as she had foretold, assigned to review a pile of cold cases after her return to work in Durham. That seemed to be all that her superiors thought her capable of.

It didn’t take her long to get thoroughly fed up with that task, so she began to apply some of her learnings from her course, plus a few tricks that she’d picked up from John and Dido. With a fresh approach to her investigations, she soon discovered several serious errors in the original investigations. Her DCI tore her off a strip for rocking the boat, but that soon turned to apologies all around when the local CPS got wind of the errors. They told the DCI that if a case had gone to court with those errors still there and if they had been discovered by the defence, all hope of getting a result in their favour would have gone out of the window.

After that, Trish was detailed to review all cases that were going to the CPS for possible prosecution. These were current cases and a lot more interesting, but her relief was only temporary. Despite speaking to Dido every day, she missed her more than she would or could admit. Hearing John’s reports of how she beat Fox into a pulp in court made her admire Dido even more than before.

With the trial coming to a close, her Chief Super let her travel south to be with Dido. He sent Trish on her way with a message of support for Dido.

That interlude was all too brief, and it was back to checking cases in Durham.

Trish’s mother saw how she missed Dido from the first day back. Mothers know these things, but wisely, she didn’t say anything. It was down to Trish to ask her for help.

Dido bummed around her flat and then annoyed John and Chrissy. John took her aside and pointed out that she had come down from years and years of investigation, and it would take time for her to experience a new form of normality. Dido was not impressed, and even Chrissy managed to laugh at Dido, so it was not all a waste of time.

None of them forgot the promises that were made about looking for those behind the terrible experience that had befallen Chrissy. As well as looking for those behind the mutilation of so many children over so many years.

The release of their exam results provided a few moments of satisfaction for her and Trish. They were the top two students in the year by quite a wide margin. Dido Facetimed the release with Trish.

John was like a proud parent. His daughter was officially a ‘top-notch’ student. With that and the demise of Fox, once she’d had some R&R, it would be time to get back to being a student, a final year student and getting deep into the investigation into the people who had hurt Chrissy so much. The only person missing from the celebration that John laid on for Dido and Chrissy was Trish.

Trish’s parents had decided that she needed a holiday, and this time, it was not Whitley Bay that they went to. A wet week on the island of Skye was her reward. Trish’s problem was that Dido was not at her side. She resolved that the trip would be the last one that she would take without Dido with her. Trish’s parents would have to let go of their daughter.

Several movie agents had been in contact with John. They were floating the idea of making a movie about Dido’s life. After some brief conversations with Dido, he was able to tell them in her own words to ‘Fuck Off and die a horrible death alone, penniless and demented because they were already demented if they thought that she would want to have her life graphically shown to moviegoers everywhere.’ The film censors would never let the best parts escape the axe.

A few discrete enquiries about a publishing deal for her life story were also rejected out of hand. Her answer to them was, ‘Come back in 20 years and try again. I’m just getting started with real life.’

There were a few loose ends that needed to be tied up before the start of the new academic year. One of those was the possibility of finding information about Dido’s past from her parents. The issue would not go away, so she busied herself by doing all the research for her final year dissertation. That diversion proved to be very productive. By the middle of August, Dido had done all the research she needed for her dissertation, but she was being very tight-lipped on its real subject. John had a good idea about the content, but he didn’t interfere. He knew that if it was even half decent, she’d get a 1st Class Degree.

The other one was that Fox had a lot of friends at the University. Many of them owed their place in Academia to him. Dido was expecting to face retribution for her act of standing up to Fox at the Old Bailey. That could wait until September. Dido’s parents were at the top of her list after finishing the research for her final year dissertation. John Proudfoot had delivered a pile of court transcripts for Dido to examine. While they in themselves were as boring as hell, he soon knew the direction that the document was going to go, and Dido, being Dido, was not going to pull any punches. He was looking forward to reading Dido’s blockbuster of a dissertation.

~o~O~o~

Chapter 34

The media soon found something else to focus on once Fox had been sentenced. Many of the details of the case were just too extreme for prime-time TV and Radio. The late-night TV news and current affairs shows, such as ‘Newsnight’, did deep dives into the crimes of Fox. Scant mention was made about the possibility that a lot of prominent people would soon be getting their collars felt by the law, probably more out of fear of being sued if they picked on the wrong person than anything else. The subject of those who visited ‘Fox’s Lair’ was almost totally ignored. To John Proudfoot, it was almost as if some important people were telling the media not to go there… or else.

Dido went with John to his home to break the news to Chrissy about the sentences that had been given to Fox Junior, a week after the jury returned a verdict on Fox Senior.

In the end, Chrissy was pleased that Fox Junior was also going away for life or at least 35 years before being eligible for parole. The prospect of ‘Junior’ being free at some point in the distant future didn’t make her happy, but she accepted John’s reasoning that he was hopefully helping to find those who had ravaged her so badly just as she was getting on her feet. Dido hoped that John’s presumption was right. He hoped that a thirty-year sentence would be enough for Junior.

[Mid-August]
Dido had returned to her and Trish’s home in Surrey Keys after a run to Greenwich and back. All the research was done, and the first draft of her dissertation was more than 70% complete, so it was time to think about other matters outstanding. After making herself some dinner, she sat down and started going through the contents of the file on her parents since they’d fled to the USA with a fine-tooth comb. After the third reading, Dido pulled out a yellow legal pad and began to make a plan. Trish’s absence did allow her some time alone to work on her next steps, whatever they may be.

Dido’s work area was soon surrounded by a pile of discarded yellow legal pad sheets. Dido was working through every possibility that she could for the next steps in the case. Many of the discarded sheets dealt with the more outlandish possibilities, but at the heart, a new path forward was slowly being developed.

Just before two in the morning, Dido composed a couple of emails but did not send them. Instead, she went to bed. John’s lessons about emails sent in haste stopped her from sending them until the morning.

Morning came without Dido’s mind being any clearer about her plan. It rankled with her that, once again, John had been 100% correct in his statement that she needed someone by her side when she undertook this operation. The only person for the job was Trish. The downside of that was that she was 300 miles away and would be attending a family christening at the weekend. Pangs of honesty kicked in, and she decided to let Trish be and pick up things with her after the family event.

Dido called Trish that evening.
“I don’t have anything even approaching a solid plan yet. Besides, you are going to become a godmother tomorrow. The last thing you want on your mind is the silliness that is going through mine at the moment.”

Trish laughed down the phone at Dido.
“Silliness in your mind? That will be a first in what, almost two years that we have known each other.”

“You know me… I take the Sherlock Holmes approach. Consider every silly possibility, and after discarding the truly stupid ones, there is usually a gem of an idea left. At the moment, I have not got to the discarding point.”

Trish knew that Dido was lying, but because of her commitments to her family, there was little she could do about it for a couple of days.

“Ok, but call me the moment something firms up. Understand?”

Her answer was another kiss down the phone. That was at least positive.

Dido spent another day trying to work out how to ask Trish to go with her to America. Nothing came to mind other than to travel to Newcastle and put it to her directly. She knew that she could have phoned her or even used FaceTime or Skype, but something like this needed a personal touch. Talking on the phone was one thing, but this was different. Dido preferred to look someone in the eye when dealing with them, even if it was the woman who looked like she would be spending the rest of her life with Dido.

Dido wanted to go and see Trish, but didn’t want to crash a family thing, especially as she had not been introduced to her parents. She had to do something to take her mind off the investigation. Her problem was that she’d been so close to it for so long, it was like a drug addict going cold turkey. John had been right, as usual, and she needed a complete change of scenery as soon as possible.

After some more mental thrashing, Dido went to her computer and began to search for short breaks. As it was mid-summer, there were a lot of places to go, in theory, but most were fully booked. Four hours into her search, Dido gave up and resorted to ‘Plan Z’.

Twenty minutes later, her printer started working, and Dido began to pack a case. She was going to France, but not to Paris this time. She’d booked a ticket on Eurostar to Lille and then a TGV to Bordeaux, where she would pick up a rental car. Her destination was a hotel in the foothills of the Pyrenees. She’d been prompted to head there thanks to eating some excellent Ossau-Iraty cheese that is made in the Basque area. She hoped that three nights away from London and the UK media might help her clear her head and prepare he for the next phase of the investigation.

As soon as Dido stepped onto the Lille train at St Pancras, she began to have regrets about not taking Trish. Five minutes on the phone with her calmed those fears. As long as Dido brought back Trish a very good bottle of Claret, she was cool. The wine was for her father, as it was his fiftieth birthday in a couple of weeks. Dido hung up at the end of the call, feeling a lot better. Her mind was so focused on getting away before her final year that she didn’t arrange to ‘borrow’ a card sniffing device. After a moment of regret, she shook her head and moved on with life.

Dido returned to London feeling a lot more relaxed and ready to move on with the case. The trip to the Pyrenees had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, but it had been perfect for her need to chill out in a place that didn’t remind her of the past and all that entailed.

In her suitcase, there were two bottles of 2014 vintage Château Latour Pauillac wine. At €75 per bottle, she hoped that it would be what Trish wanted for her father’s forthcoming birthday.

Dido arrived home just before midnight, tired but happy about her trip and ready to move on.

Dido sent Trish a text at 07:00 the next morning.
“Trish, I need to speak to you about something. When are you free? I could come up on the train and meet at Newcastle Station.”

A reply came back almost immediately.
“Am free today. Text me what train you are on. Trish”

Trish’s immediate response threw Dido. She had expected not to have to travel until the next day. Her first attempt at booking a ticket ended in a dismal failure. After giving up trying to use the app on her phone, she opened up her laptop, and this time, she managed to book a first-class return to Newcastle. It cost a lot more than she had anticipated, but she wanted space to think about the right words to say to Trish.

Dido settled into her seat near the rear of the 10:00 train to Edinburgh and began to think about her meeting with Trish. Thankfully, the carriage was only half full, but if the number of passengers heading for 2nd class was anything to go by, she had made the right decision, as it was a Friday in the latter half of August, after all.

Once the train was clear of the Gasworks and Copenhagen Tunnels, she sent a text to Trish.
“Arriving on 10:00, dep Kings Cross. Dido.”

Before adding her name, she nearly added the word ‘love’ but decided against it at the last minute. She still had a hard time using the ‘love’ word. John had said that Chrissy was just as bad. While it didn’t make her feel any better, at least she knew that she was not alone in having that problem.

Dido didn’t have the skills that teenagers often learned the hard way about relationships. Things were very black and white for her. Things were either good or bad, with very little room for things in between. It hurt her that she didn’t have these soft skills when it came to relationships. It hadn’t mattered much when it was just her and John, who was more like her father than anything. Her relationship with Trish was a whole different ball game. While Trish was being very patient with her, she knew that one day soon, that patience might run out.

John was right… as usual, when it came to matters concerning her. It was at times like this that she wondered how different her life would have been if she were his real daughter.

Dido had all the words that she would say worked out in her mind before her train stopped at Doncaster. Outside of the comfort of her seat, the weather had changed, and it was now raining hard. When she had left home, it had been a fine morning. This made Dido all the more determined not to let her emotions get in the way of business.

A flurry of texts had hit Dido’s burner phone as the train sped across the flatlands south of Peterborough. A huge smile appeared on her face as she read the first of them. One last text wiped the smile off it. It caused her to swear more than once under her breath.

The bleakness of the North Yorkshire Moors off to her right had lulled her into a state of drowsiness when her phone bleeped as the band of rain was left behind. It was now a pleasant day.

“Meet you off the train at the Durham stop. Trish”

In almost a fit of panic, Dido went through the folder she had received from John. Her mind had, for the moment, lost track of the plan that she had concocted earlier.

Before she knew it, the train was slowing for the Durham stop. As Dido was in the last but one carriage, she did not see Trish waiting for her on the platform until the throng of passengers had cleared. Trish was carrying a large bunch of flowers. Dido’s very immature and often very emotional side of her personality began to fight back against her cold and often very calculating half.

Both of them smiled as they walked towards each other. Despite it being a dozen very long days since they had seen each other in person, anyone observing them could not help but conclude that they were lovers. Dido’s emotional side had won.

As they came together, and despite the promise that they’d made to each other not to kiss or even hold hands, they embraced passionately.

“I missed you,” said Trish softly when they broke apart.
“I was… was almost ready to hop on a train when your text arrived.”

Trish looked at her friend and began to smile.
“And you even got dolled up just for me?”

Dido had indeed ‘got dolled up’. She’d even put on a dress and heels, which was almost unknown to her since she’d become a student.
“That tells me that this is not just a social call.”

Dido laughed.
“You know me too well.”

“Well, my partner in crime and crimefighting… shall we go? I know a nice place for lunch where we can talk.”

Dido looked up at the sky. The earlier rain had missed that part of the country.

“Let’s go, partner!”

Hand in hand, the two left the station and drove off in Trish’s mother’s Mini.

“We are here,” said Trish as she pulled into a car park. A sign said ‘Low Burnhall’. We can walk down to the river and talk.”

“Ok,” said Dido, who was feeling a little uncertain.

Trish opened the boot of the car and pulled out a wicker basket.
“Mum suggested that we come here and… before I knew it, there was a picnic lunch all packed and ready to go…”

“Tell her thanks from me,” said a slightly nervous Dido.

Trish took Dido’s hand, and together, they walked into the woodland.

“You can talk and walk, you know?” joked Trish.

“Sorry…”

“Well?” asked Trish.
“Sorry…”

Trish stopped walking.
“Now look here, Dido, if you say sorry one more time today, I promise, may god strike me dead, I will leave you right here, and you can find your own way home.”

“Ok, ok. I’m here because I need your help on the next part of the case.”

“Good. And there wasn’t a sorry in sight.”

Dido smiled.
“You know that John took it upon himself to try to find my parents in the hope that they might lead us to the people who fucked with my body.”

“I remember now. I take it that he has got some results?”

“His searches came up with some information, but my friends on the ‘Dark Web’ confirmed his findings and gave me a lot more to work on. My dad is in jail in Nevada for trying to run a Ponzi scheme in Vegas, of all places…”

“Shit. What did he get?”

“Get? He got what the bastard deserves.”

Trish grinned.
“No, silly. I meant, how long did he get in jail?”

“Oh… five to ten years. But he’s up for parole in a little over a week. I want to go and speak to the parole board after I’ve seen him.”

“And… reading between the lines, you want me to go with you?”

“As an officer of the law, you could explain to the parole board that we don’t have a statute of limitations and that we… or rather PLOD like you would love to interview him and mum in connection with the trafficking of me.”

“Ouch. Talk about going straight for his dangly bits!”

“It might not work, but it will give them pause for thought, and it might even get them to revoke his US citizenship.”

“I take it that he’s a US citizen then?”

“Yeah. According to the file that John gave me before I went to France, they are both naturalised citizens. That was how he was tracked down. They got hold of the list of UK citizens who swore the oath of allegiance since they abandoned me to my fate. Thanks to their Freedom of Information Act, all that stuff is in the public domain.”

They walked on until they came to the river.
“This is as good a place as any for lunch,” said Trish.

“Oh… when were you planning on jet-setting off to Vegas?”

Trish’s words momentarily stunned Dido.
“Are you coming with me then?”

Trish unwrapped a foil package that contained some sandwiches.
“Why not? It sounds like fun.”

“Fun?”

“That’s what people go to Vegas for, isn’t it? Seeing you stiff your father would be as good as, if not better than seeing a top show on the strip.”

Dido began to understand what Trish was going on about.
“Monday. I was thinking about flying on Monday.”

“That’s only a few days away? There is a lot to sort out before then, isn’t there?”

“Minor details. All I need is your passport details for the booking and this US Visa waiver thing. Then we can be back in time to get up to speed on some of the work for next term.”

Trish didn’t say anything.
“And you, of course. I’m sure that there is a flight to Heathrow from Newcastle that you could take. The Vegas flight does not leave until around two in the afternoon.”

Trish, who had been about to take a bite from one of the excellent Cheese and Ham sandwiches, stopped.
“And you have checked that there is space on the flight?”

“Er… I left that to you. Besides, there is always the train.

“No, silly, the flight to Vegas!”

“Yes, there is space, or at least there was at five this morning.”

Trish took a bite from the sandwich and shook her head.
“I should have known by now that you would not want me to go with you unless you had done all the groundwork before texting me about today. What was it that Fox said about lawyers and questions?”

“I’ve been on holiday, remember? I only finally decided to go when I was on the train from Lille last night. That’s why I was in a bit of a hurry to speak to you. I’ll get on with the fine details when I get home tonight.”

Trish laughed.
“I can see your holiday has made you relax. The old Dido would have done everything the other way around…”

Dido shook her head.

“This is a temporary interruption of normal service.”

“John drummed that into me long before I knew that it was Fox who had held me captive. He used an example of a case at the Bailey that fell apart because the prosecution thought that it was a slam dunk and went to the pub rather than doing all the prep work that they needed to do to win the case. It rankled with him because it was his last case as a Chief Super before he retired.”

“Ouch. That must have hurt?”

“I could tell that it still rankled with him after all this time. When Fox repeated the same point in his second or third class, I knew that it was a good thing to remember.

“Ok, I’m in for Monday. I’ll take the vacation that HR has been on at me to take, despite my DCI thinking that to quote his words, ‘this student malarkey is all one big holiday, isn’t it?’”

“I shut him up by showing him the original version of that paper you wrote on PACE. I simply told him that it was written by the same person who took down Fox at the Old Bailey. He read it and told me, ok, it was good. Then he added, ‘Too bloody good if you ask me’.”

Dido leaned over and gently kissed Trish to seal the deal.

Dido gave Trish the wine for her father’s birthday when they said goodbye at the station. Trish’s eyes lit up when she saw two bottles of excellent Claret.

“Dad will love these. They are already talking about wanting to meet you.”

Dido groaned.
Trish laughed.
“One day in the not-too-distant future, darling, you will not be able to put it off any longer.”

“I know, but…”

“Mum knows all about you and me. She guessed and then said, while we were clearing up after dinner the other night, ‘Now, my girl, don’t you have something to tell me… about Dido?’ Since the reports of you giving evidence came out, she has been very supportive of both of us. I have told her that you would not take kindly to being mothered.”

Dido giggled.
“Only John can mother me, and that is when he’s making his special pasta dish.”

After a long kiss, Dido had to run to catch her train.

[Monday Morning, Newcastle Airport]

“There, you are all checked in,” said the airline clerk.

“Thanks,” said Trish.

“When you get to Heathrow, you will have a couple of hours to wait before your connection to Las Vegas. May I suggest that you head for the First-Class Lounge in Terminal 5 and relax? They will let you know when your flight is boarding.”

“First Class? I don’t understand?”

The clerk smiled.
“I guess that you didn’t look at your E-Ticket very closely?”

“No… I haven’t flown in… years.”
Trish had never flown before but wasn’t going to let on about that.

She smiled again.
“Well, enjoy the trip.”

A slightly bemused Trish headed for Security and her flight to London.

Once she was ‘airside’, she called Dido. Her call went straight to voicemail. In a fit of frustration, she hung up and looked for a bag to punch.

Dido had done it to her again. Was there nothing that she could do that would even begin to level the score between them? Trish was annoyed, but not for very long. This was Dido being Dido, and there was very little she could do to change it. Then again, did she even want to? That last thought was much more worrying.

Trish found Dido waiting for her in the 1st Class Lounge at Heathrow Terminal 5.

Dido’s smile and open arms made Trish forget about admonishing her friend. As they kissed, her embarrassment at finding out that they were travelling at the front of the plane went into the bin.

“You made it then?” said Dido after they broke apart.

“I’m here, but finding out that we are travelling in style was a bit of a shock…”

Dido just grinned.
“These were the only seats available when I came to book them.”

Trish raised her left eyebrow. That told Dido… I will check on that very soon. ’

“Where did the money for the tickets come from? Please don’t say that you went ‘dipping’ again when you were in France?”

Dido grinned.
“I promised you and John that I would not go ‘dipping’ as you put it. No, I cashed in some Bitcoin. I made, well… let me say, ‘a lot of money’ on the deal. I got in very early with some of the money I made panhandling.”

To Trish, anything to do with Bitcoin made her feel unclean, but they were a fact of life. She knew that Dido had bought some a long time before the start of their course. Where that money came from was another matter entirely, but Trish had resolved not to question Dido too closely about money before their trip to North Wales the year before.

Dido didn’t tell the whole truth about her trip to France. She hadn’t done any physical ‘dipping’, but a meeting on her way south with her contact from Appledoorn had enabled her to do some electronic dipping on a trip to the seaside resort of Biarritz and the nearby town of Bayonne. One day at the seaside and a couple of walks through the TGV train on the journey to/from Bordeaux had netted her a little under £25,000. That had been paid to her in Bitcoin, so telling Trish that she’d sold some to pay for their trip was perfectly true. It was just the origin of those funds that was left vague. Dido knew that those little side events would have to stop if she and Trish became a really solid couple. As she had broken no UK laws on her trip, she felt happy to let the origin of her funds slide.

While they waited for their flight to start boarding, Trish thought back to the past two years. Her mother had talked about the ‘boys’ in her course almost since the first day, not men but boys. Trish had used the age difference and their immaturity as an excuse. On the first Sunday after her return north, Trish had been ‘introduced’ to someone whom her mother thought was a ‘nice young man’ named Craig Parsons.

The name ‘Parsons’ is well known in the North East of England for many good reasons. This particular member of the family was well known to her colleagues at Police HQ for many bad reasons.

Trish wasted no time in telling him that as a serving police officer, she could not be seen in the company of a convicted criminal. He did an exit that would challenge Usain Bolt in terms of speed. Craig had just finished a five-year stretch in jail for assaulting a police officer with a hammer. He served two years and was out on parole. Craig was also suspected of being in a far-right political group similar to the National Front at their peak. This group was very shady about their aims, and the Anti-Terrorist people down in London had them firmly on their radar. Trish did her duty and reported the inadvertent contact with Mr Parsons to the right people in both Durham and London.

Trish told her mother in November of their first year that she had found someone and that by the end of her course, they would meet. It was only after the North Wales trip at the end of her first year that they found out that this mysterious person was a woman.
The trial had made Dido’s past public knowledge. All that remained was to introduce Dido to the family once they had answers about the inevitable ‘how will you have children’ question.

Trish wiped that episode from her mind and tried to concentrate on the trip to Las Vegas.

“What did you tell your parents?” asked Dido.

“That we were going to Vegas to get away from the media frenzy over the jailing of Fox.”

The Sunday papers had been wall-to-wall articles about the case, even if the details that didn’t come out in court were scant and would never be publicly available simply because of the age of some of their victims. Only a few artists’ impressions of Dido circulated in the media. Speculation as to her real identity was limited, and as the university was in recess, they’d have to wait until September to get pictures of her attending the classes.

“And your Mum bought it?”

“Not quite. She knows that there is another reason for our trip, but understands a bit about what you went through. She has tried hard to hide it, but she has been following the trial very closely. I heard her say ‘good riddance to bad rubbish’ followed by ‘may you rot in hell’ after the verdict and sentencing.”

“And?”

“I wasn’t going to contradict her. Without telling her about us in full, I thought it better to stay quiet, but…”

Trish sighed.
“She would not have prepared that hamper for just a normal friend. After you went home, she cornered me, and I had to tell her about us. I kept saying that it was early days and that nothing serious was going to happen until we graduated. I knew from her tell that she didn’t believe a word of it.”

Dido just smiled. Trish knew that smile. There was a plan inside her mind, but as usual, she’d be the last one to know about it. Dido’s way of working frustrated the hell out of her, but it was who she was and why she loved her.

Trish gave an involuntary shudder when that thought went through her mind.

“Come on, time to get to our gate. The flight is boarding,” said Trish in a moment of panic.

Dido stood up, took Trish’s hand and together, they walked out of the lounge with huge smiles on their faces.

[to be continued]