Natalie was the last to arrive at the office. The revelation that David might have started gambling again prevented her from falling asleep immediately. She’d stayed awake long after he’d dozed off, with memories of the damage David’s addiction had caused their relationship swirling in her mind. They’d unearthed the root of it and he’d stopped, but not before he’d wiped out their savings and tested her mettle. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, she decided he wouldn’t allow that to happen again. He cared about her and their children. He’d been hugely upset over the thought of his father finding new love, and put out that Zander had gained a place in his own father’s affections. David couldn’t live without those he loved by his side.

She tossed her bag onto the floor and greeted her team. Judging by the buzz in the room, they were busy collecting information.

Lucy bounded across to her. ‘This may be something and nothing but Charlotte visited this site several times.’

‘The Darkest Knights’ official website.’ Natalie looked at the photo of the band members.

‘As we know, Jed Malloney is their drummer and also happens to be Phoebe’s fiancé.’

Natalie nodded. ‘Could have been checking him out for that very reason – curiosity?’

‘I thought that to start with, so I delved further back into her website browsing history: eighteen months ago she ran several searches for Jed. For the next few months she landed on that page regularly, along with several others all about Jed. I then found a list of all the venues The Darkest Knights had played. One of them was at Stoke-on-Trent on Friday the second of December, 2016, around fifteen months ago, before they became really well-known. Charlotte’s friend Frankie told us about a gig they went to for an up-and-coming band. I suspect it might have been this one.’

Natalie drummed the desk with her fingers, absorbing the information, then voicing thoughts of her own. ‘Frankie also told us Charlotte went back with the band to their hotel. She might have slept with Jed. If so, that would account for why Phoebe hates her so much.’

‘There’s another possibility – Alfie. He’s six months old. By my calculations he would have been conceived around the time of that gig.’ The scar over the bridge of Lucy’s nose became even more pronounced as her eyebrows drew together. ‘I know we shouldn’t make assumptions but…’

‘There’s one way to determine the truth. We’ll get a DNA sample from Jed. And while we’re at it, establish his whereabouts on Friday night when Charlotte was murdered.’

Lucy returned to her desk and set about the task. Natalie strode to the window and watched the morning traffic, chin in hand. A shuffle alerted her to Murray’s presence. He handed her a file. ‘I came across something that might be relevant. There was an unresolved murder of a woman, Lucia Perez, who was killed in Nottingham two years ago. She had an eighteen-month-old child, Diego, who was found unharmed in the living room, with the door shut. I requested the file and was cross-referencing it when I thought of something. The murder took place on Saturday the seventh of May, 2016. The husband, Rodrigo Perez, was believed to have been responsible and was charged but later released when there was insufficient evidence and it eventually became a cold case. Something about the date and place rang a bell and I remembered the fight posters Adam has on the wall of his office. I was sure one of those took place in May 2016, so I checked through the fight events calendars for May 2016 and he did have a fight the night before, on Friday the sixth of May, in Nottingham.’

‘That’s interesting. What do we know about this case?’

‘The victim, Lucia Perez, aged twenty-one, was beaten to death in the hallway of their flat during the afternoon. Rodrigo Perez was already known to the police. There’d been a number of reported incidences of screaming and shouting from their flat, but on each occasion, when the police arrived, those claims were refuted. One of Lucia’s friends told police that Lucia had tried on several occasions to leave Rodrigo but he wouldn’t let her take their son with her. The same friend said she was considering going but leaving Diego behind with his father. Police looked into these claims and Perez was initially charged, but later his vehicle was found on CCTV footage at a warehouse in Liverpool around the time of the attack, and he was released.’

‘Did the attacker leave a message?’

‘No. There wasn’t anything written in blood, or anything else for that matter.’

Natalie crossed the room and stood by the front door, arms folded. It was a sign she wanted to address them all.

‘Okay, listen up, folks. We’re getting all sorts of leads and information now, and we have to sift through it quickly. Something new has come to light and there’s a possibility Jed Malloney, who is engaged to Charlotte’s sister, Phoebe, is Alfie’s father. We’re trying to establish where he was the night of the murder. As we discussed last night before we left, there’s also some ambiguity surrounding Lee’s and Adam’s alibis. Murry’s uncovered something that might be relevant to this investigation.’ She ran over what Murray had told her about Lucia Perez.

‘With this latest information concerning the murder of Lucia Perez, we have Adam back in the frame. Murray, talk to the DI who was involved in the Perez case. See what else you can find out. Lee wasn’t at the pub as he told us so we need to get hold of that barman and bring him back in before we grab Lee and find out why he was lying. What else have we got?’

Ian waved a sheet of paper. ‘I’ve got a name. Finn Kennedy. He could be one of the two suspects running away from the Brannons’ house.’

‘Who identified him as Finn Kennedy?’

‘I’ve got a tech-savvy mate in Birmingham who helped trial some facial recognition software for the police force back in 2014. It can identify suspects from CCTV images or smartphone photos from a database of about 100,000 mugshots. The techies managed to make the photograph more recognisable so I sent over the still to him, and it’s come back a match for Finn Kennedy. He was charged for possession of a firearm in 2016 and was on the database.’

The corners of her mouth pulled upwards slightly. ‘Good job.’

Lucy spoke up. ‘Finn? Inge was going out with a lad called Finn before she dumped him for Adam. Where does he live?’

‘Close to the boxing club in one of the tower blocks on the Crossways Estate,’ Ian replied.

Natalie picked up her car keys. ‘Then he’s also a person of interest. Let’s talk to him too. Until we’ve eliminated these new suspects, or found out what they know, we’re not going to act on the information that Lee was seen climbing into a van at ten thirty on Friday night and was not in the pub as he claimed. If he and Adam are involved in this murder, I require cast-iron proof before they’re charged. Lee’s a slippery character and his lawyer is red-hot. We can’t mess this up.’

---

Natalie and Ian were on their way downstairs when Mike called to them.

Natalie stopped in her tracks and faced him. ‘Hi. How was your day off?’

Mike’s face said it all. He beamed at Natalie. ‘Worth the horrendous queue at the cinema with all the overexcited children.’

‘We’ve got a few leads. Just going to follow one up.’

‘Good. That key you gave me for the Brannons’ house, it has several sets of fingerprints on it. Charlotte’s parents and a third set, which we’ve identified as her sister Phoebe’s prints.’

‘That’s a lot of prints on one key.’

‘They’re mostly on the key fob.’

She recalled the pink plastic oblong attached to the door key. ‘Any others?’

‘Nothing else. Only the family members touched the key and the fob. That’s all I have. I’ll let you crack on.’

He turned away, and as Natalie and Ian bounded down the stairs, Ian said, ‘Phoebe isn’t at home very often, is she? I wonder why her prints are on the fob.’

‘Not sure. It looks suspicious. She can’t have used it to get into the house that night though. She was on a flight, miles away.’

‘True.’

Natalie pondered his words as they charged across the car park and into the unmarked BMW. She couldn’t ignore the fact that Jed and Charlotte had possibly had an affair and Alfie was their son. If Phoebe had also found that out, could she have murdered her sister? It was mere supposition at this stage but maybe worth pursuing. ‘Double-check she was on that flight. It’s probably wise to confirm her whereabouts.’

He threw her a smile. ‘I’ll do it as soon we get back.’

They were approaching Crossways Estate, an area not as badly run-down as Ashmore but still lacking funding. An abandoned children’s play area was slap bang in the centre of the small estate. It harboured a sense of decay with the graffitied walls and rubbish scattered over the tarmac-covered area. A lone seesaw had the message ‘FUCK YOU’ scrawled along it, a climbing frame had been decorated with rolls of toilet paper, and the swing seats and chains that attached them to the overhead struts were long gone. Natalie couldn’t imagine any children wanting to play there.

‘There. That’s it. Red Towers.’ Ian swung into a spot on the road near the grey block. It was one of three named unimaginatively after primary colours.

Natalie climbed out of the car, rested her elbows on the roof and studied the block. Thirteen storeys high and with each flat having a balcony, the blocks would have been considered modern and even smart back in the sixties when they were erected. Now, its white façade had yellowed with age and the balconies were filled with broken washing machines, endless lines of washing and bicycles, even a motorbike on one floor.

‘He lives with his brother on the second floor. Their flat is at the rear of the building so there’s every chance he hasn’t spotted our arrival,’ said Ian.

Natalie set off with a determined stride. Ian kept pace and together they passed through the side entrance. They’d seen nobody. It was extremely quiet for a Monday morning: no mothers, buggies, youngsters or any comings and goings. ‘I hope he’s in,’ she said.

‘He’s unemployed so there’s a fair chance he’ll be in at nine thirty on a Monday morning.’

The stairwell stank and somebody had drawn crude images on the walls. Empty cans of lager had been left, along with a bottle of vodka containing dark-yellow fluid at the bottom of the stairs. Natalie wrinkled her nose at the stench of urine, stronger here; nodding towards the lift, she suggested they take the stairs.

‘It’s probably the lesser of two evils.’

Ian emerged first onto the landing and turned right towards the back of the block. Natalie followed him, looking over the concrete balustrade as she did so. There was still no activity below.

‘It’s along this corridor,’ said Ian, counting off the flat numbers until he reached number eleven.

‘Go on. Do the honours,’ she said as he hesitated in front of the door marked with a warning sign, stating an attack dog was on the premises.

He rapped hard on the door. There was no barking. The dog either didn’t exist or had gone out. There was no sound from inside.

‘Try again.’

Ian knocked harder and for longer. He opened the letter box and shouted, ‘Finn Kennedy, it’s the police. We’d like to talk to you.’

They waited but still there was no reply. ‘Looks like he’s out,’ she said. ‘Any thoughts as to where he might be?’

Ian, unwilling to give up, thumped on the door with his balled fist. ‘Finn Kennedy. Open up. It’s the police!’ He turned his head towards Natalie. ‘I heard someone in there.’ He bashed again, calling out Finn’s name.

A man dressed only in boxers opened the door, yawned and took in the two officers.

‘Mr Kennedy?’

‘I’m Mr Kennedy but I’m not Finn,’ said the man. ‘I’m Patrick. Finn’s brother. He’s not been home for two nights. I’ve no idea where he is so don’t even bother asking.’

‘Have you any idea at all of his whereabouts?’

‘I told you I don’t know. If I knew where he was I’d go fetch him myself. He owes me two months’ rent, the little shit.’

‘What about his friends? Could he be staying with them?’

‘Don’t you think I’ve tried them? I’ve been looking for him myself. I put the word out but no one knows where he is. He’s been a miserable little turd since he got kicked out of the boxing club and lost his sponsorship. He’s been floating about the estate and getting on my nerves.’

‘Which boxing club?’

‘Adam’s. It’s the only one around these parts. Bloody shame Finn screwed up his one big chance. Ma would turn in her grave if she knew how he was behaving.’

‘You look after him?’

Patrick gave a hoarse laugh. ‘I don’t look after him because you can’t look after Finn. He’s his own man. I let him live here for forty quid a month, and for that I make sure he gets fed and doesn’t get into too much bother. I also try to kick his backside now and again and encourage him to get a job. Ma asked me to keep an eye on him when she got the cancer so I try to but he’s a handful.’ He rubbed a hand over his naked torso. ‘That it?’

‘We’d like to know who he hangs out with.’

‘Why, what’s the little fucker got up to?’

‘We’re investigating a suspicious death. Finn was spotted in the area at about the time the crime was committed.’

‘Jeez! You think he killed somebody? Finn’s lots of things but he is no murderer. I’d swear to that.’

‘We need to find him to clear his name and to find out if he saw anything.’

Patrick absorbed the news with more sternal rubbing. ‘So, he might have spotted the murderer. Is that what you’re saying?’

‘Possibly. We also need to identify who was with him at the time and just what they were doing in the vicinity of the Brannons’ house.’

‘Brannon. Adam Brannon?’

‘Yes. And you said a minute ago Finn was thrown out of Adam’s boxing club.’

Patrick’s hand moved to his face and he wiped it across his chin. ‘He had a fall-out with Adam. I don’t know anything about it. You best talk to the man himself.’

‘Have you any idea who might have been with him?’

‘Could have been any one of his friends or not.’

‘And Finn hasn’t been back here the last two nights?’

‘No.’

‘When did you last see him?’

‘Saturday lunchtime. I was going out when he got up. I asked him for the rent money and he told me to fuck off cos he didn’t have it. I told him he’d better get it and if I didn’t have it by Monday, he could find somewhere else to live.’

‘Have you been concerned by his disappearance?’

‘Not really. He’s often out for two or three nights at a time, even a week. He hangs about with his mates and comes and goes as he pleases. I thought he was keeping out of my way until he came up with the money.’

‘If he turns up, will you please call us immediately? Here’s my business card.’ Natalie handed it over.

Patrick stared at it blankly. ‘Do you think something’s happened to him?’

‘I honestly can’t answer that, Mr Kennedy. If you give us his mobile number and a list of names of his friends, we might be able to establish where he is and find out for you.’

‘You can forget the phone. He’s not answering. It goes straight to answerphone, like it’s switched off. I’ve rung him quite a few times. He’s usually with the lads from Ashmore Estate. You should start with those who use the boxing club. And try Hassan Ali. They’re good mates. I spoke to him yesterday. He didn’t know where Finn was but he might have been fibbing.’

Natalie changed the subject. ‘Did Finn used to go out with a girl called Inge Redfern?’

‘Yeah. He was mad keen on her but she dumped him. He was turning a corner too, settling down and had a chance to be a boxer, even have a career, but it fell apart after they split up. Finn took the break-up badly and became feral again. She was the only thing that kept him anchored. I doubt you’ll find him with her. He’d got to the stage where he hated her. Shame they broke up. Ma would have loved her.’

‘Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.’

‘I bet you will.’ He edged back into his flat and shut the door.

‘Believe him?’ asked Ian.

‘For now. He could be protecting him. He is his brother, and if his mother truly asked him to look after Finn, he’s unlikely to give him up to us. We’ll try Hassan Ali and then Inge.’