‘Right, Jacob. What did you get from Darren Mason?’

He entered the kitchen and took one of the coffees she’d just poured. ‘With what we have on him already, this is his second offence over the past week and he’s breached the conditions of his bail. But it was only weed. The other officers who arrested him, said he was tracked all the way down the street until he was out of the dealer’s sight. He didn’t offload anything once he spotted them. The area was well searched and nothing else was found.’

‘The girl who fell from his van had definitely been on heroin, her blood results have confirmed that. I know we found anabolic steroids in his room but we know where he obtained those from after checking his browsing history. We searched his boyfriend, Callum Besford’s flat and again, found nothing.’

‘Oh, I forgot to say, his father, Dennis Mason, is waiting for his son in reception with a solicitor and he’s in a foul mood.’

‘Probably peeved because we still have his laptop and one of his vans. More than likely wants his porn collection back.’

Jacob sniggered as he swigged his coffee. ‘Smith and Kapoor have moved on to interviewing the woman and the couple.’

‘Do you know any more about them?’

Jacob pulled his little notebook from his back pocket. ‘I did grab a bit of info to keep us going before they update the system. Smith assures me it will all be updated as soon as they’ve finished the interviews. Ellen Simpson and Aaron Dunn, the pair in the chip shop. She is forty-one, he is forty-five. It looks like they’d prepared for a good night in. A bag of beer, bottle of vodka, kebab and chips and a few grams of cocaine. Ellen Simpson is carer to her elderly mother whom she lives with. Aaron Dunn stays with her most of the time but lives in a bedsit at the back of the High Street. He works at a biscuit packing factory on the industrial estate. That’s all I have on them so far. The other woman was scoring heroin. She looks high functioning, maybe she’s a new addict. She’s in her late fifties, at a guess. She’s also refusing to speak at the moment. Won’t even confirm her identity. I’m sure a night in the cells will change her mind. We’ll know more tomorrow. I seriously think we should be going home and getting some sleep.’

‘I seriously think you’re right,’ Briggs said as he entered and threw his empty pizza box into the bin. ‘I’ll catch you both tomorrow. If you want to run anything by me, call me when you get home.’ Briggs smiled at Gina and left.

‘“Call me when you get home.” I think he likes you.’

Gina playfully slapped Jacob on the arm. ‘Don’t be daft.’ If only he knew how right he was.

---

As Gina headed towards the door, car keys in hand, she passed the corridor to the cells. She headed down towards where Darren Mason was being held and opened the flap on the door.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ he said as he lifted his head off the thin mattress. ‘When’s my dad getting me out of here?’

‘I can’t answer that, sorry. I just thought I’d check on how things went with the council. I did call them to mention the abuse, you know the kids with Callum.’ Despite what was happening, she wanted to make sure Callum had been looked after.

‘You’re concern overwhelms me. I told my dad about Callum. You should’ve seen the disappointment in his face. That look will stay with me forever. Are any of you surprised that I need weed to escape, that I take steroids to make myself fit in with what a proper son should be? What my dad thinks I should be. Macho tree surgeon. It’s him. My dad’s a twat. Mommy saved the day though, couldn’t bear her boy being unhappy and moving out to a place where other people want to hurt him. She let Callum move in to ours for a bit until the council find him somewhere.’ He paused and smirked but Gina could see his eyes watering up. ‘It’s far from pleasant. My dad keeps scowling at him. You’ve met Callum, you know what a quiet, person he is. He was upset. I thought I’d score us a bit of weed so we could chill. He doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.’

‘People come round. Your dad just needs time to take it in.’

All of a sudden Darren Mason looked like a scared child. He drew his legs up and hugged his rolled up hoodie. ‘I doubt it, but thanks for calling the council.’

‘Goodnight, Darren.’ She closed the flap and left him pondering about all that had happened as she headed out past the front desk.

‘I hope you’re getting my computer back to me soon,’ said Dennis Mason. Some of the buttons on his shirt had come undone, revealing his bulbous hairy belly. His dirty work shorts skimmed his dusty knees.

‘Don’t worry, Mr Mason, we’ll get your porn collection back to you very soon,’ Gina said as she left, giving him no opportunity to answer back.

It was the end of a long day. She checked her phone as she walked to her car. A woman stared back from another car. She’d recognise that face anywhere. Lyndsey Saunders, reporter for the Warwickshire Herald was topping up her red lipstick in her rear-view mirror. Gina had no idea why. Lipstick or no lipstick – that woman would have to go through the right channels to get a statement. The reporter caught her eye and quickly got out of the car. ‘Detective Harte, could it be that a serial killer is lose in Cleevesford? The public have a right to know. Human remains. A girl, emaciated, falling from a van, since died. Too much of a coincidence, I’d say.’

Gina could easily punch the woman after the last case she worked on. She had no empathy for the people whose lives she reported on and that included Gina’s. Lyndsey Saunders was never getting a morsel of information from her lips. ‘You know the score. Contact Corporate Communications. Don’t call me or don’t approach me again or I will haul you in for harassment.’

‘It’s a free country and I’m on public land.’

Gina walked up to the woman. ‘The world doesn’t need people like you. I will never tell you anything. Do you hear me?’

The woman grinned. ‘Oh, I hear you. It’s all right when you need us for your appeals, one sniff of a real story and you shut us out. I’ll call you.’

Gina got into her car, slammed the door and drove off, knuckles gripping the steering wheel, revving the engine as she exited the car park. Maybe Lyndsey was right. What if they were looking for a serial killer? And van girl’s last words were telling them of girl number three. All girls involved had red tones to their hair and insect cases had linked their two dead girls. She shivered, wondering if the insect cases had been picked up accidentally or if a kidnapper had left them deliberately for forensics to find. Her head was awhirl with all the information.

As she sped down the country roads, a fox darted from the bushes, its eyes fixed on hers as she slammed the brakes on, stopping just in time. She gasped for breath as the creature ran, disappearing in the hedge. Calm it down, Gina. She put the car into first and started driving again as jumbled elements of the case flashed through her mind.

There were too many people involved. The drug dealer, the Masons, the others who had been booked in. Images of distraught parents flashed through her mind. There was Josh and Angela Smith, Simone’s foster parents. Julia Dawson and her boyfriend, Roy, and she had yet to visit Simone’s biological mother. Bryn Tilly and the Norths. What was Mr North hiding? That was a question that kept playing on her mind. Her own daughter – she’d let her down again. She couldn’t bear for Hannah to be mad at her forever, but she couldn’t face her either. As she pulled up on her drive, the security light came on. She fiddled with the splinter that was now causing a major irritation.

‘Got you, you bastard,’ she said as she slid the splinter from her hand and flicked it out of the window.