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  “Am I allowed to speak to him first, ma’am?”

  “Yes, but for pity’s sake don’t upset him.”

  * * *

  “Bloody good, isn’t it? We have a convicted killer and I’m supposed to pussyfoot around. Anyone would think that he was some sort of VIP.” Calladine said to Ruth as they made their way down to the interview room.

  “While you were in with Birch I made a couple of enquiries, and they paid off. It’s the golf club. Both the ACC and Livings are members and they play together regularly.”

  Calladine couldn’t believe it. “And that’s it? They’re golf buddies, so Donnelly walks?”

  “I’m still checking, but it’s a start. At least we’ve ascertained that they do know each other.”

  “There’s got to be more to it than that. The ACC is no fool. He wouldn’t put his job on the line for a game of golf.” Calladine shook his head.

  Craig Donnelly’s solicitor sat with him in the interview room. He was a tall man in an expensive suit, clutching a voice recorder. Whoever had hired him was obviously willing to pay through the nose.

  Calladine pasted a smile on his face. “Craig. Sorry to drag you away from your work, but you know how these things are. I’d like to ask you a couple of questions. You okay with that?” Calladine looked at the two men. Donnelly nodded, and the solicitor said nothing. “Can you tell me what you’ve been doing over the past week?”

  “That’s a lot of time, Inspector, and I’m a busy man.” For a moment Donnelly seemed to be thrown by this request. His eyes flicked around the room from one person to the next, as if seeking the answer. Then his face suddenly brightened. “But you’re in luck.” He nodded at his solicitor, who opened his briefcase, pulled out a notepad, and handed it to Calladine.

  “Fortunately my client has kept a list. Dates, times, places, and the names of people who can corroborate what is written there.”

  Calladine scanned the pages. Donnelly had made copious notes about his day-to-day life since leaving prison. It was all there. Almost as if he’d expected to be dragged in like this and had prepared. “You’ve done your homework. I’m impressed.” Calladine tapped the book. “So if I go and speak to . . ,” he chose a name at random, “Charles Walker, he’ll confirm you were cleaning his windows the day before yesterday. Is that right?”

  Donnelly nodded. “I’ve spent most of my time ministering to the needs of the reverend’s flock. Charles Walker is eighty-two. He can’t manage his windows on his own. After sorting him, I dug over Mildred Owen’s potato patch. Kept me until gone nine that night, she did.”

  “Regular pillar of the community, aren’t you?”

  “I’m doing my best. I’m trying to make up for the past. I owe this community a debt for taking me back. I’m grateful.”

  Was he for real? Calladine shook his head. He didn’t believe a word of it.

  The solicitor looked at his watch. “I’m sure you don’t want a blow-by-blow account of what’s written down there, Inspector. Keep the notepad, check what you will, but in the meantime I must insist that my client is released.”

  “Okay,” Calladine said simply. “But don’t leave town.”

  Calladine had not expected this. Notes, witnesses that could be checked. Livings really was taking good care of Donnelly. But why? Couldn’t he see what was staring him in the face?

  Michael Livings loomed at the end of the corridor as they exited the room. “Inspector! This really is bad form.”

  “Just doing my job, reverend,” Calladine said.

  The man stood at the vicar’s side thrust a hand the DI’s way. “Joe Rushton, Craig’s probation officer. Craig hasn’t put a foot wrong since he got out. I see him several times a week. You’ve seen the diary, it’s all in there.”

  Calladine nodded. “Good idea that. We’ll start working through it.”

  Michael Livings gave him a hawkish stare. “Keep off our backs, Inspector. I will report you to your seniors if we have any more of this harassment.”

  With that, Livings nodded at Donnelly and they walked off towards the exit.

  “What now?” Ruth asked.

  “We’ll go and have a word with Megan Heywood. See what she has to say for herself. Get her address and meet me at the car. I want another word with Birch.”

  * * *

  He walked back to the DCI’s office door and was about to knock, but heard her arguing with someone on the phone. From what she was saying, it wasn’t about work. It sounded personal. She was speaking to someone she called Reg. Calladine turned and walked away. Birch hadn’t looked right for a day or two. The woman had something eating at her. Ordinarily she’d have been one hundred percent on his side when it came to sorting Donnelly. The fact she’d given in so easily to Livings spoke volumes to Calladine. Rhona Birch had something serious going on in her private life.

  “Megan Heywood lives on the Hobfield. Down the road from Elsa,” Ruth told him as he climbed into the car.

  “How does Birch seem to you?”

  “Can’t say I’ve had much to do with her since I got back. Why?”

  “She’s not right. She’s got stuff on her mind, and it’s influencing the job. In fact it’s playing havoc with her judgement.”

  Ruth gave him an odd look. “Your judgement has been a little off-beam too, while we’re at it.”

  “In what way?”

  “Your certainty that Donnelly is guilty of this new crime.”

  “I’m certain because I’m right. I want every single entry in that notebook checked. I want to know exactly what that bastard has been up to since he got out.”

  Ruth frowned. “I’ve been looking at the Annabelle Roper case.”

  “And? Spot anything interesting?”

  “Donnelly protested his innocence all the way. Through all the interviews, during the trial, and later when he was banged up. He never stopped. That only changed when he met Livings.”

  “What are you saying, Ruth? That Livings has some magical power that made Donnelly finally see the light and repent?”

  “No, but until Donnelly did admit what he’d done and show remorse, he was never getting out. Up until that point he had been a pain in the arse. Always in fights, always screaming about being innocent. Meeting Livings changed all that.”

  “You think finally admitting he was guilty was a deliberate move?”

  “Yes, I think it was. Livings coached him. He took Donnelly under his wing. Despite the rich wife and the big house, Donnelly was all Hobfield. A bit of a scally, a bit too fast with his fists when he’d had a skinful, but up until the Roper case he’d never been in any real trouble.”

  Calladine could hardly believe his ears. He turned onto Circle Road and pulled into the first available space. “Are you saying you actually think Donnelly could be innocent? What about the other young women he bothered? Can’t you see the pattern?”

  “No, not really. I think that was all circumstantial.”

  Calladine’s voice was flat. She’d shaken him. “There was sound forensic evidence, Ruth. Including a necklace belonging to Annabelle, found in his house. And her blood was found on one of his shoes. He insisted he’d never even met her. So how did that happen if he was telling the truth?”

  “I don’t know. But there was other stuff that didn’t add up. Annabelle had told her friend that she was being stalked. The description she gave to the police could have fitted most men in Leesdon! The local rag got wind of it and several other women came forward. That was where the idea that the stalker had to be Donnelly came from. Eventually a description of the man was cobbled together. But still there was no consensus. One said he was blond, another that he was bald! But Donnelly got labelled the ‘Leesdon stalker,’ and the rest you know.”

  Calladine was struggling. How come she’d seen all this? He’d worked the case, lived it, suffered all the sleepless nights. “I can’t believe you of all people could be swayed like this. Vicar or no vicar, that bastard is as guilty as sin. And I’m going to
prove it!” He paused, his gaze fixed on the road in front of him. “I need you with me on this, Ruth. We are a partnership. We have our differences, and that’s healthy in a job like ours. But on this one we have to stand together.”

  He could see that Ruth was uncomfortable. “It’s not that simple, Tom. There are differences between the murders. I can’t pretend they’re not there, and neither can you. There was no rape in the Roper case for example. Neither was her mouth taped shut after her tongue had been cut out. Plus all her clothes, bar that necklace, were found with her body in the bin.”

  Calladine took a deep breath. Ruth was right.

  Chapter 7

  Rachel was speaking to the image on her laptop screen. “I didn’t think you’d noticed me. You were so into Elsa, then Megan. I left messages, but you never replied.”

  There was a slightly distorted chuckle. “I noticed you alright, Rachel. Megan was a mistake. She’s a real bore so I’m dumping her. Apart from which, you are much prettier.”

  Rachel Hayes blushed at the compliment. “Are you going to tell her it’s over?”

  “No, I’m going to leave that to you. And don’t be kind about it. Tell her straight. It’s you and me from now on. It’s what I wanted from the start.”

  Rachel smiled at the screen. “Can we meet up soon? Go for a drink and stuff?”

  “Not yet.”

  He saw her pout and shake her head. It made her long blonde hair ripple in the sunshine pouring in through her bedroom window. He sighed. Blondes were his thing. He hadn’t realised it before Megan. But now he had a type.

  “My mum won’t let me out after school anyway. The police have let that scumbag go. Everyone knows he killed Elsa.”

  “They’ll have their reasons.”

  “He killed Elsa because she bullied Gaby. I don’t think the police have realised that yet.”

  “Thick, the lot of them.”

  “Trouble is, all I’ve got on my laptop is a photo, and it could be of anyone. How do I know it’s you?”

  “It is me, Rachel. I look exactly like that photo. Elsa must have shown you the one she carried in her purse. It was taken when I was in a band at uni last year,” he said.

  “You were in a band?”

  “Don’t get too excited. We weren’t very good.”

  “Can I tell people about you?”

  “You can tell Megan.” He watched her lie back and stretch out on the bed. “Tell her tomorrow. Once she knows, we can meet up.”

  He smiled to himself. There was no chance of that, not yet anyway. He only met them when their time was up. Now time was up for Megan, so he was ready to groom another one. He’d have the lovely Rachel waiting in the wings, eager to take her place.

  He inhaled deeply. He would take Megan tomorrow on her way to school. He’d been patient. Megan was beautiful. By this time tomorrow that beauty would be gone. He’d have had his fun and Megan would be dead meat.

  Rachel interrupted his reverie. “Why did you choose me?”

  “Because you’ve got lovely tits.” He watched her sit up. Her eyes dipped to her chest. She teased him, running her slim little fingers tantalisingly down the buttons on her shirt.

  “Want to see them?”

  “Good girl. I’d like that very much.”

  * * *

  They sat in the parked car. Ruth stared ahead. “It was a hideous case and you got too close. You weren’t in charge either, Reynolds was. Have you ever considered, Tom, that all that blind anger, the need to get Donnelly at all costs, was fuelled by Reynolds? He had Kennet watching his every move. He was obsessed. It made him ill. He was never the same after that case. In the file it says that Donnelly made a complaint against Reynolds. Accused him of being on his back long before Annabelle Roper was killed.”

  Calladine looked her in the face. He was still angry. “I lived the case, remember? There was solid evidence and the jury found him guilty based on it. Plus there were other factors. Donnelly had no alibi for the time Annabelle was missing.”

  “All I’m saying is that we mustn’t presume that Elsa Ramsden is down to Donnelly just because of the past. We have to look harder. There will be better forensic evidence this time. You cannot go near that man again unless it clearly points his way. You can’t hound him, Tom. Birch and that scary vicar will have your job.”

  Calladine sighed. “Say we do cross Donnelly off the list for now. Who else is in the frame?”

  “I’ve no idea, but we can start with Megan Heywood. We find out more about what those girls get up to, and who with. While we’re at it, we look at that chat room they’re all so fond of.”

  Was Ruth right? Calladine had worked with her for a long time and she was rarely wrong. But then again, she’d just come back after being out of the job for a while. She’d be rusty. A long weekend was enough to take the edge off him. He couldn’t make up his mind. “What time is it?” he asked.

  “Gone four. Megan will have left school by now. We could go round to her house.”

  “Okay.”

  “But softly does it. These girls are wary. And they can be good liars.”

  Calladine was surprised. “You don’t suspect one of them, surely?”

  “No, of course not. But Megan and the rest know more about Elsa’s life than anyone. They are our way in, but we have to be careful not to frighten them into silence. They clam up and we’ll be chasing our tails.”

  Calladine nodded. Ruth talked a lot of sense. “Who else was friends with Elsa?”

  “According to Jake there are four of them. Elsa, Megan, a Rachel Hayes and Sophie Briggs. They keep themselves apart. The others in the class aren’t that fond of them. All four are from the Hobfield. Jake reckons they intimidate some of the younger pupils. Nothing heavy, simple run-of-the-mill bullying — if there is such a thing!”

  “Gaby Donnelly?”

  “Not liked. She is different because her mother has money. She’s an accountant with a few famous clients, and the two of them get invited to places. Gaby is the butt of umpteen practical jokes. Always has been, all through school.”

  “The photo being the latest. I’ll speak to the headmaster. We need the kids to delete that image off their phones.” Calladine nodded at the end house in a row of four. “Here we are. Megan lives here and Elsa was half a dozen further down there. You can see why they’d knock about together.”

  “Kid gloves. Megan will have known more about Elsa’s life than anyone. That’s what teenage girls are like. They share stuff with one another, not with family,” Ruth reminded him.

  “When did you become such an expert?”

  “I was one once, remember?”

  Calladine smiled. “Her mother’s at the door. She doesn’t look too happy.”

  Dawn Heywood was standing with her arms folded, watching them. “You had him, but now he’s free again. What the hell’s going on?”

  “Had who, Mrs Heywood?” asked Ruth.

  “It’s Miss. That bastard Donnelly. We all know he killed Elsa, and we all know why. So what are you going to do about it?”

  Ruth took a breath. “As yet we have no solid evidence, so there isn’t much we can do.”

  Miss Heywood took a step backwards. “Bloody useless, the lot of you. I suppose you want to speak to our Megan. You’d better come in.”

  Word had travelled fast. They’d only spoken to Donnelly that afternoon. Calladine would love to know who was doing all the talking. “Is she okay?”

  “What do you think? Her best mate got murdered. She was part of the lot that teased Gaby, so she thinks she’s next.”

  “We can have her watched,” Ruth suggested.

  “God, no! We take care of our own round here.”

  Megan Heywood was on the stairs, listening.

  Ruth smiled. “Hello again! We thought a chat might benefit us all, if you don’t mind?”

  She was still wearing her school uniform. The girl’s long blonde hair was loose about her shoulders. Despite the make-up plastered all ove
r her face, she looked younger than her eighteen years.

  She began speaking straight away. “Elsa was worse than the rest of us. She wouldn’t stop. She hated Gaby. Now I’m in the frame for texting that damn photo to my friends. My mum thinks he’ll come after me next.”

  “Elsa’s death might not have anything to do with all that,” Ruth said.

  “Course it does. Gaby told her dad. She was seen talking to him. He was waiting on her road. He’s killed before.”

  “Come through. I’ll make a pot of tea,” Megan’s mother said.

  Ruth continued. “Did Elsa have a boyfriend? Perhaps someone she didn’t tell her mum about.”

  “She was seeing Peachy, her brother’s friend. But that cooled. He was a lot older than her, and I don’t think Danny approved. Since him, I don’t really know.”

  Calladine’s ears pricked up at the sound of the nickname.

  “Do you know why the relationship cooled?” asked Ruth.

  Megan shook her head. “Like I said, he’s older, and he’s been in trouble with you lot.”

  “What sort of trouble?”

  “Just a bit of dealing. He’s not like that now though. He’s made a fresh start.”

  Calladine shook his head. “You seem to know a lot about him. Do you like this bloke too, Megan?”

  “When he’s right, he’s okay. He likes a good time and takes us round the clubs. I’ve been out with him, Danny and Megan a couple of times. Nothing serious.”

  “What do you mean — when he’s right?” Ruth asked.

  “He’s not easy to keep tabs on. He always has someone or other after him. That’s why I’ve not seen him recently. I think he’s scared. Keeping his head down.”

  “Do you know who he’s frightened of?”

  “Danny Ramsden I think. They used to be friends but something happened. They fell out about something, could have been money.”

  “Can I have his full name?” asked Ruth.

  “Why? Will he get in trouble? He’s had nothing to do with Elsa or any of us for ages. This isn’t down to him.”

  Ruth smiled. “We simply need to check him out, that’s all.”

  Megan sighed. “Liam Peach.”