The desk sergeant greeted Natalie and informed her of the interview going on between Lucy and Jed Malloney. She headed for the adjacent room, linked by a one-way mirror, to watch and listen in. Jed was speaking.

‘Okay,’ he said, lifting both hands up in a submissive gesture. ‘It’s a holy mess, I grant you, but I’m not the person you’re hunting for.’

‘You have now admitted you were in Stoke-on-Trent on Friday evening and you went to Charlotte’s home.’ Lucy maintained eye contact with Jed, who wriggled in his seat before answering.

‘Let me put it in perspective for you. Last Monday, I get a weird message on my answerphone from Charlotte saying she has to talk to me urgently and gives me a landline number to call. I figure it’s her home number and it’s to do with the family, or Phoebe, or something like that, so I ring it. She picks up and drops this fucking bombshell that Alfie is my son. Just like that. Not hello, how are you? No, she blurts out, “Alfie’s your son.” You can imagine how I react. I’m floored by the news and no sooner do I come up for air than she announces she’s going to tell Phoebe the truth, that it isn’t fair to keep something as important as this from her, and that her sister has a right to know about it before she marries me. I ask her to slow down and explain what the fuck is going on. She reminds me of the night, way back in December 2016, in Stoke when she slept with me. Now this strikes me as really crazy because she’s never brought it up or said a darn word about it before.’

He shook his dirty-blond hair and continued in his lazy drawl. ‘I tell her I don’t believe her and demand a paternity test. I say I’ll come visit her to talk it through, and advise her not to act hastily. She replies, saying that it’s a bit late for talking. I insist. I tell her I’m going to be in Stoke-on-Trent on Friday for a radio interview at about four thirty, which will only take an hour tops, and can see her after it. She agrees to meet me outside Stoke railway station at seven. Adam usually goes out with one of his mates on a Friday night, so she’s free to see me. I think it’s all sorted. The interview at the BBC finishes at about five twenty. I hang around after it, have a couple of drinks to steady my nerves and then wait at the railway station, but she doesn’t show. I wait half an hour. She still doesn’t show. I ring the number she gave me and called me from but it’s a phone box in Samford. Some random person answers my call and doesn’t have a clue who I am. I don’t have her freaking mobile number and I can’t ask Phoebe or her parents for it without causing suspicion. I have no way of contacting her and can’t work out why she isn’t at the station as planned. I walk back into town, which, in case you didn’t know, is a freaking long way, and work out what to do next. I need to clear this crap up. I don’t know what game Charlotte’s playing, but it’s doing my head in. I grab another drink at a bar, and another, and then I make the decision. I order a ride from Uber and get the driver to drop me off down the road from her house. It’s about ten fifteen, ten twenty, by the time we get there. I’m not sure I should even be doing this. It feels all wrong yet I need to know if Alfie really is my kid. What I’m actually worried about is Phoebe hearing about it first. If she has to find out, I want to be the one to tell her. I pace about, trying to get the courage to go to Charlotte’s door. I’m worried I’ve come all this way and Adam’s at home. I walk up the road. I see there’s only one car parked on the drive, a BMW. There are no lights on in the house. I knock on the door and ring the bell. Nobody answers. And that is it. Nothing more. I leave. I walk back down the road and order another Uber, which takes less than ten minutes to arrive.’

He lifts both hands up. ‘Gospel truth. The details will be on my phone. I reached the station in the nick of time to catch that eleven o’clock train and I didn’t realise it was only going as far as Wolverhampton until I was on it. The rest is exactly as I told you. I caught the five o’clock in the morning train out of Wolverhampton and returned to London.’

‘You were only at the house for a few minutes and didn’t see Charlotte?’

‘That’s what I’m telling you. I didn’t see her, speak to her or anything. I went no further than the front door. Surely your forensic guys would have been able to pick up something to prove if I’d actually been inside the house. I’ve got the call log showing the number for the phone box. There’s also my Uber app, which will confirm I ordered cabs when I said I did. I’m not her killer.’

‘Would you be willing to give a DNA sample?’

‘Do I have to? I don’t think I can handle knowing I’m Alfie’s father now. I can barely look at the kid. He’s over at the house with Phoebe and her parents, and I’m still pretending he belongs to Charlotte and Adam. I don’t think I can go through with a test that proves I’m his father. What the hell can I offer him? And it’s going to completely screw my relationship with Phoebe if the test proves positive. She isn’t going to want to start bringing up her sister’s kid with me. It’s best if I don’t know; if none of us know.’

Lucy insisted. ‘It would be helpful to us.’

He leant in, fingertips pressed tightly together. ‘Okay, here’s the deal. I give you the sample so I can be eliminated from your enquiries or whatever, and if you use it to also determine Alfie’s paternity, you don’t tell me the result.’

‘We are going to require a DNA sample. Now, could you hand over your mobile so we can confirm the times of your taxis, the phone call you received from Charlotte and the one you made to that call box number?’ Lucy wasn’t going to be drawn in, despite his pleading and earnest look. He let out a heavy sigh and pulled out his mobile, which he pushed across the table to her.

‘I could refuse.’

‘You could but that wouldn’t be in your best interest. You were at the victim’s house the night she was murdered. It would be advisable to cooperate.’

He lifted his chin and stared at the ceiling in silence. Eventually he spoke again. ‘Okay, run the test or whatever you have to do. This is all a giant fuck-up. Promise me one thing. You won’t tell Phoebe about Alfie.’

‘I have no need to discuss the matter with her at the moment.’

His head bobbed up and down. ‘Thanks.’

---

Back in the office, Natalie praised Lucy. ‘You handled him well.’

‘I felt a tiny bit sorry for him. It must have been confusing and a huge shock to be suddenly told he’s Alfie’s father. I bet he’ll tell Phoebe, even if the test is negative, and then who knows what will happen to them?’

Murray muttered, ‘We’re not sodding marriage guidance counsellors. We dive in, rifle through evidence and get out again. It’s tricky enough handling our own lives and relationships.’

‘Speak for yourself. I’m managing mine just fine.’ Lucy offered with a small shrug.

Natalie interrupted them. ‘If Jed’s whereabouts are confirmed and he seems confident they will be, we can strike him off our list, which will leave us with Hassan Ali, Finn Kennedy, Adam and Lee. Ian’s trying to locate Hassan through his mobile although I fear he’ll have dumped it and be using a burner phone. He’s undoubtedly got a network of mates who’ll squirrel him away for a while.’

‘Inge was certain Finn had nothing to do with the murders,’ said Murray.

‘That may be, but she’s emotionally involved with him, even though they’re no longer an item, and she’s possibly not the best judge of character,’ Lucy replied.

‘I reckon it’s time to round up Adam and Lee. I’d hoped we’d get some more information first, possibly from those two youths, but I can’t hang around on this any longer. We have to get to the bottom of where they really were the night Charlotte died. We’ll talk to them both and that barman, Vitor, from the White Horse again.’

Natalie’s mobile rang, a special ringtone that indicated her superior was on the line. A crease appeared between her eyebrows. ‘You go ahead. I’ll take this.’

Superintendent Aileen Melody, Natalie’s boss, was as calm and collected as ever but her words chilled Natalie. ‘I’m at a crime scene, Natalie. You need to get to Bose Street as quickly as possible. We believe your killer has struck once more.’