Lynley: Havers.

Havers: Are you okay?

Lynley: Who called you?

Havers: Are you okay?

Lynley: You mean, did I do it.

Havers: No, I mean are you bloody okay? God, I’ve been asking that for the last six months.

Lynley: I need your help.

Havers: Okay.

Lynley: Somebody broke into Julia’s apartment. I need you to check the fingerprints on that. (Surreptitiously stuffs a bagged pill box into her pocket.)

Havers: You’re under arrest, which makes this evidence.

Lynley: Evidence that Tate is not remotely interested in!

Havers: No, but I can’t—

Lynley: Barbara, please!

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Lynley: Sullivan? (Pounding on the door.) Sullivan? The lock looks pretty flimsy.

Havers: Yeah, so does our warrant. I’ll try and find a building manager. (Lynley kicks the door in.) Or maybe not…