It had been a shit week, a shit month all round. Maddie half stormed into the company gym anxious to work out some serious pent up aggression that had built inside her.

She saw him and instantly gritted her teeth. Of course, she thought, of course she would time it at the exact moment he was here too. Fucking Rab.

She shoved her earphones in and turned her music up hoping if she looked unapproachable he might just take the hint that she wanted some space and save his creepy comments for someone less fortunate.

She walked over to the mats and started stretching before heading to the bench press and shifting the ridiculous weight off it. She was strong, strong for her build but even she couldn’t bench press that amount.

Normally she hit the gym after hours, when everyone else had gone home to their families. She liked the quietness of it then. Usually there were only a few others, a few familiar faces that smiled but they all kept their distance. They were all there at that time with the same deliberate aim, to not only work out but do it in silence, without stares, without any attention.

But today she’d switched routine. She was normally like clockwork, up at daybreak, out for a run, same route to work. Methodical. Logical. Today something in her itched to change, just to mix it up and look at the consequences Maddie, she thought, because he was right there, his eyes watching her, she could feel it even as she laid back on the bench and positioned herself under bar.

He walked over and she internally groaned before focussing on the weight. If she looked busy, if she looked disinterested surely he’d take the hint? He was SIC for fucksake, he was meant to be leading by example not being a total sexpest all the time. She unhooked the bar and gently let it fall to just above her chest. Closing her eyes. Focussing. She liked this moment. The pause. When she felt everything stop.

And then she pushed up, feeling the weight, feeling her arm muscles stretching before holding it for a few seconds and then bringing the bar back down slowly. Controlled. Methodical. Just like her.

“Want a spotter sweet cheeks?” Rab said in her ear and she half jumped. She’d been so focused she hadn’t even realised he was right by her.

“Seriously Rab?” She snapped hooking the bar back up and throwing him a glare.

“Come on I’m a good spotter.” He said crouching down right beside her and putting his hand on her thigh.

“Could you not just give me a break, just once?” She asked.

“A break from what sweet cheeks?”

“That…” She retorted. He smirked opening his mouth to reply but Holden hollered across the gym and everyone shut up.

“Rab with me. Now.” He said. Rab switched instantly. Suddenly he wasn’t the resident sexual harasser, the sexpest, the creep, he was Rab SIC, Mr. Dependable.

“Sir.” He said before walking away and Maddie breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god for small mercies, she thought.

She sat with McCullough shifting through the Anderson file and he wrote whatever she pointed out on the whiteboard. It just didn’t make sense that she even had it, she thought. It was Fraud. It was obviously Fraud. Anderson was a middle aged bureaucrat, who had lived a perfectly boring life thank you very much. He had a wife who had died ten years back. No children. An job in an office that no doubt involving double height ceilings and a pretty secretary and oodles of taxpayer funded biscuits. But in reality there was nothing of interest about the man. That is except for the almost monthly First Class flights to Bermuda, the 8 berth yacht he had moored at a local marina and the holiday villa in Florida. All of which were way above his level of income.

It was obviously fraud. The only problem was there wasn’t a money trail. Not from the company that Anderson worked for. They’d gotten suspicious no doubt over time because it looked like Anderson was being very clever. He wasn’t shouting about his new found fortune. He wasn’t showing off about his villa. Everything was on the lowdown and if that wasn’t a redflag Maddie didn’t know what was.

But the million dollar question was where was the money coming from? Because the Company wasn’t losing money. It hadn’t lost anything. Every penny was accounted for.

Maddie clicked her neck, she was sore from the gym and irritated from the case. She liked Serious Crime. She liked the drama of it. The intensity. And the fact that there was always a person at the end of it, a victim, which somehow made it feel like what she did mattered. What she did counted. Fraud just felt hollow. It was just money at the end of the day and she had no doubts that when the missing millions were spotted the Company would just put in an insurance claim and poof the bank would magic some more numbers into their account.

“Who is the Client?” McCullough asked and she shook her head pulling herself out of her thoughts.

“Let me check.” She said shifting through the file. It had to be there somewhere and then she frowned. Where the Client details should have been there were just thick black lines.

“It’s redacted.” She said groaning.