Adam stepped out of the police car, his six-foot frame towering high over the Jaguar F-Pace. He rested both hands on the roof of the car and looked at his splayed fingers, focusing on the wedding band on his left hand. His dark eyes were filled with a sadness that Natalie had seen on many faces in her career. She extended her condolences and waited for the man to be able to tell her what had happened. He refused her offer to talk inside her car or head to the station.

‘Have you anyone you can stay with tonight – a friend or relative?’

‘No. I’ll sleep at my boxing club. There’s a sofa bed in the back office and a changing area with showers and toilets. I can stay there for now. I can’t… go back inside. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to,’ he said. ‘Where’s Alfie?’

‘He’s with social services for now.’

He nodded. ‘That’s probably for the best. I can’t deal with all of this at the moment. I can’t even think straight let alone look after him. Maybe he could go to Charlotte’s parents for a day or two until I get my head sorted.’

His reaction puzzled her. Why wouldn’t he want to be with his boy? He hadn’t even kicked up a fuss about Alfie being taken away from him. It was odd, to say the least.

‘We’ll have to let social services handle that side of things. My job is to find out who did this to your wife. Tell me what happened this evening.’

He spun lightly on his feet to face her, forcing her to tilt her head upwards, and she was struck by the power he exuded. It was no surprise to have learnt he was a semi-pro boxer. Apart from his eyes, his face showed little emotion: his eyebrows were neatly groomed and rested on a wide, unblemished forehead, and his chin and cheeks, covered in dark stubble, still revealed strong bone structure. When he spoke his voice was deep and low.

‘We’d been out and returned at about ten. Charlotte went straight inside to go to bed. She said she was tired. I drove the babysitter, Inge, back to her place before heading to the White Horse in Samford for a drink. I met up with an old mate, Lee Webster. We had one there and then went back to his place for a couple more. In case you’re wondering, I only drank orange juice at his house. I got home at about twelve. I didn’t go upstairs at first. I watched GLOW on Netflix. At some point Alfie started crying. I figured she’d deal with him, feed him, change him or whatever, like she normally does, but she didn’t. She always goes to him, almost as soon as he wakes up. I stayed where I was but he got louder and louder. I don’t know what I thought: she’d crashed out because of the booze she’d drunk at the restaurant and hadn’t heard him, or was waiting for me to take a turn – I really can’t say, but I went straight to the nursery, where he was bawling his eyes out, his face all red, waiting for his mum to come. I picked him up, tried to calm him down, walked about making the right noises but he kept crying and wouldn’t be comforted, so I carried him to the bedroom to ask her to try and quieten him while I got his feed… and she was on the floor. I didn’t need to check her. It was obvious she was dead. I took Alfie back to the nursery, put him back in his cot and rang the police immediately. He kept crying, waiting for his mum to come and pick him up…’ He swallowed hard but couldn’t continue.

‘He’s okay. He’s safe.’

He calmed again and nodded.

‘Was the bedroom door shut?’

‘Yes.’

‘You didn’t spot anything odd before you went upstairs? Nothing out of place? Front door unlocked?’

‘Nothing. You think I’d have sat downstairs watching telly if I’d thought something had happened to either of them?’

‘I’m not suggesting that, sir. It’s important I establish all the facts before I begin the investigation. Something might come to mind; something you didn’t think important at the time but is relevant now.’

His nostrils flared momentarily. ‘Yeah. I guess so.’

‘The burglar alarm wasn’t activated.’

‘No. She must have decided to leave it off until I got back. We usually set it when we go to bed.’

‘Do you keep any valuables in the house, maybe hidden in a safe?’

He snorted. ‘Just cos we live in a big house doesn’t mean we’re rich. The cars – they’re the most valuable things we own. There are some paintings and sculptures that cost a bit but probably aren’t worth what we paid for them, and there’s Charlotte’s jewellery – especially her engagement and wedding rings – but she was wearing those when I… I’ve got some boxing memorabilia – gloves from fights, posters, that sort of stuff – and a couple of watches. One of them’s worth a couple of grand.’

‘Which room are they in?’

‘My den. It’s behind the kitchen. They’re in the bottom drawer of my desk. There are a couple of necklaces belonging to Charlotte there too, and a diamond ring. She didn’t like wearing expensive jewellery. Was always scared she’d lose it so stuck to cheap stuff – lookalike gear. It’s locked. Key’s taped under the top drawer.’

Natalie recalled Mike mentioning the games room. He must have meant that.

‘The room with the pool table?’

‘Yeah.’

She made a mental note to tell Mike and check the drawer. ‘Has anyone, other than you and Charlotte, got a key to the house?’

‘Only Charlotte’s parents.’

‘You’re certain the door was locked when you got in?’

‘Yes. It locks automatically when you push it to. I used my key to open it.’

‘Could your wife have left it open when she went in?’

‘Maybe she did but Inge came out soon afterwards and I’m fairly certain she shut the door behind her.’

That narrowed it down to three remaining possible scenarios: the killer was able to pick locks, they had a key or Charlotte had let them in. Natalie continued.

‘You took Inge home and then went to the White Horse to meet up with Lee?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Was there any particular reason you went off to the pub straight after a night out with your wife?’

‘I didn’t have a “night out” with my wife, as you put it. I went to dinner with my in-laws and I needed a stiff drink after that. I told Charlotte I was going out for a while afterwards. She was fine about it. She knew I didn’t especially enjoy socialising with her folks.’

‘You don’t see eye to eye with them?’

‘They’re not the easiest to get on with. I feel really bad, you know? I have literally no idea what to say to them or what to do next.’

‘You’ve already spoken to PC Granger. She’ll help you through this. You could do with some support from family too.’

‘There was only Charlotte. And Alfie. There’s no one else. Her parents aren’t my biggest fans. They’ll blame me for this. I know they will.’

His eyes clouded again as fresh pain reached him. Natalie was at a loss as to how to console him.

‘Is there anybody you could stay with, friends maybe? You shouldn’t be alone.’

His words were deflated. ‘Yeah, right. You don’t exactly make lots of friends in my profession; more the opposite, in fact. You don’t tend to make friends on the boxing circuit or running a boxing club for youngsters from run-down housing estates.’

‘What about Mr Webster, the man you went to meet at the pub?’

He shook his head.

‘You say you have no friends and, in your words, “more the opposite”. Do you know anyone who you think capable of harming your wife?’

‘I meant the guys I know would like to lay me out and take me on in the ring. Not hurt my family. I can’t think of anyone who’d harm Charlotte. It makes no sense at all.’

‘I’m going to need the names of those men.’ She took note, even of those he claimed not to have had dealings with for a few years.

He rubbed his close-shaven head with the flat of his hand. ‘One of those white-suited blokes took my phone. Can I get it back soon?’

‘They’ll return your phone once they’ve finished checking it. It’s procedure.’

‘They took Charlotte’s mobile too and the computer.’ He looked back at the house, twisted his neck left then right and caused it to crack. His face screwed up as if in pain. ‘Fuck this. I can’t stay here any more. I need some time out, alone. I can’t think here. I’d like to head off to the club now if I can. I’m going mad sitting here watching police coming and going and all the while my beautiful Charlotte is upstairs.’ He stopped once more, fought for control. ‘I’m going to need some clothes and shaving kit for the next few days. And Alfie will need his stuff. Can someone fetch them for me?’

‘I’m afraid the forensic team might want to leave everything in situ for the moment.’

‘Does that mean my car too?’

‘Yes. We need to examine everything.’

Adam rubbed his head again. ‘Sure, fuck it then. I’ll manage without. Get someone to drive me to the boxing club. I’ll crash out there. I have to get my head around what I saw in there. It was like some fucking horror film.’

‘Of course you do. Would you like the liaison officer to accompany you and stay with you?’

‘No. I want to be left alone. I can’t take all of this shit in. I need space. You saw what that fucking bastard did to my wife.’ He clenched his fists.

‘I’ll talk to the officer and arrange for you to leave. Before you go, can I ask you one question? Do you own a baseball bat?’

‘No, I don’t. I want to go now. I need to go. I can’t stay here with Charlotte…’ He exhaled noisily. ‘I just can’t, okay?’

‘I understand. I’ll arrange for you to leave. I truly am most sorry for your loss.’

Natalie left him standing by the car and returned to Tanya Granger.

‘Anything?’

‘No. He said pretty much the same thing to me about leaving though. He can’t wait to get away and he doesn’t seem unduly concerned about Alfie. I’ll station an officer to keep an eye on him.’

‘The parents have been informed and we’ve tried to contact the sister, Phoebe, but her phone’s off. From what we can gather, she’s on a long-haul flight back to the UK. She’s cabin crew. I thought I’d head over to the Hills’ as soon as possible. Adam wants Alfie to stay with them.’

‘He told me that too. Said he couldn’t look after him for now. I’d have thought he’d want to keep the baby as close to him as possible after such a traumatic experience.’

‘Shock can affect people in all sorts of ways. I’ll let social services know and they can decide if Alfie ought to go to his grandparents’ house for now.’

‘I’d like to talk to Charlotte’s parents too.’

‘I’ll meet you at their home if you like.’

‘Yes, that’d be best. I just need to sort things out with my team and I’ll join you there.’

---

Natalie’s team were huddled outside the Brannons’ house. Lucy had recovered her composure and was talking to Ian in a hushed tone. Neighbours had returned inside their own homes and the street was given over to the police. A lengthy black-and-yellow cordon had been placed across the driveway and light spilled out of the front doorway onto the tarmac.

‘Adam’s going to spend the night at his boxing club. Will one of you drive him there and keep an eye on him until I can arrange for an officer to take over from you? Just in case he suddenly decides to bolt for whatever reason. He’s bottling up his anger and is upset. If he has any idea who’s behind this, he might go after them himself. He’s admitted to knowing a few people who’d like to take him on. Here’s a list of names to be checked out. He didn’t call them enemies, as such, but that’s the impression I got.’

‘I’ll do that,’ said Murray.

Ian tapped his notebook with his pen. ‘One of the neighbours, Mrs Margaret Callaghan, reckons she saw two figures running down the road around eleven fifteen. She’s an elderly lady in her late seventies. She thinks they were in their twenties or thirties and wearing dark clothing. She said she’d stay up for while if you want to talk to her.’

Natalie checked the time. It was almost three o’clock. ‘I’ll have a word with her now. We’ll need to run checks on Adam. He went out with his wife, took her home, dropped off the babysitter then claims he went to the pub to meet up with his friend Lee Webster. Find out everything you can about the pair of them, Ian. Talk to Lee too.’

‘Sure. I’ll get on it immediately. We’re done here for now.’

‘Better go with him,’ said Lucy. ‘Two heads and all that.’

Natalie thanked them and agreed they’d catch up later.

---

Margaret Callaghan had a blue-rinsed perm that looked like soft candyfloss on the top of her head. For a woman in her seventies she was sprightly, and her button-like eyes were unusually clear. She cradled a small, white shih tzu in her arms as she spoke to Natalie, her voice a clipped received pronunciation like that of a BBC announcer back in the 1950s.

‘I don’t sleep much these days so I’m often up at night. I’d gone to bed early, around nine, and dozed off. I woke at quarter past eleven and came downstairs to warm up some milk. Casper,’ she said, bouncing the dog slightly to indicate who she was referring to, ‘sat by the front door, so I opened it to let him out and as I did so, I caught a glimpse of two people who seemed to come from the Brannons’ driveway. They sprinted towards the main street. At first, I thought they were friends of the Brannons, and given there was no burglar alarm going off anywhere, my suspicions weren’t raised. My milk was on the stove and I didn’t want it to boil over and, to be honest, I didn’t spare the pair any more thought. I don’t generally nosy at what my neighbours are up to. We’re quite a private bunch and although I know a few of the people here, I keep myself to myself. Nobody likes a busybody, do they? Especially an old busybody. Anyway, I sat for a while with my drink, probably twenty minutes or so. I read an article in my magazine and waited for Casper to finish his business. When I let him back in, I noticed the Brannons’ car pulling onto their drive. I returned to bed but I still wasn’t tired, so I stayed awake reading, and when all the police cars began to arrive, I realised I might have been frightfully remiss and maybe the two people I saw had committed a crime.’

‘You think you saw them running from the Brannons’ house at about eleven fifteen or just after?’

‘It must have been about that time. I can’t be certain, of course.’

‘Can you describe the pair at all?’

‘Oh my, now you’re asking me. They were a fair distance away and there isn’t a great deal of illumination around here. Judging by their movements, I’d say they were young – anything between twenty and thirty – and dressed in dark clothing.’

‘Thin, fat, tall, male, female?’

‘Male, I think. They were both of slim build but as for height…’ She gave an apologetic shrug.

‘How well do you know the Brannons?’

‘I’ve exchanged a few words with Mrs Brannon on the odd occasion I’ve seen her, maybe when I’ve been walking Casper, or when I’m gardening in the front. She sometimes wheeled the baby out in his buggy. I’ve only waved at Mr Brannon. I’m afraid to say I know almost nothing about them. You wouldn’t think anything like this could happen in such a nice neighbourhood as this one. I’ve always felt safe and happy here. If you’d told me such a wicked crime could have been committed on this estate, I’d have laughed at you.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘It’s a real shock.’

‘Do you live alone, Mrs Callaghan?’

‘No, dear. I live with my husband, Peter, but he’s visiting his brother this weekend, in Edinburgh. I shall be very glad when he returns home. As soon as you leave, I shall put the chain across and keep Casper nearby.’

‘I’m sure you have nothing to fear, but it is always wise to keep the house secure.’

Natalie thanked the lady for her time and wandered back outside. The road was a little emptier with some vehicles having departed. Two paramedics were transporting a gurney containing the body of Charlotte Brannon, now concealed in a body bag, into the ambulance. Mike and Pinkney emerged from the house together and she strode towards them.

‘Adam claims he doesn’t own a baseball bat.’

‘We’ll check it out for prints and so on. The writing on the wall is in Charlotte’s blood. Can’t find any implement the killer used to write those letters though,’ said Mike.

‘He also told me there’s a key taped to the upper drawer of his desk in the games room. It opens the bottom drawer where he keeps his valuables. Might be worth ensuring they’re there.’

‘There’s no obvious sign of robbery. I think whoever came into the house had one thing on their mind and one thing only: to murder Charlotte.’

Pinkney nodded. ‘I agree with Mike. The attack was vicious and intentional. She was bludgeoned to death. The killer wrote a message in her blood on the wall.’

Pinkney placed a warm hand on her shoulder for a moment.

‘I’m heading to her parents’ house. I’ll talk to you both later.’ Natalie’s shoulders suddenly seemed too heavy for her, like a weight was pressing on them.

Mike followed her eyes. ‘That poor woman, and all the while, her baby was in the room next to hers.’

‘Find me something, Mike,’ Natalie replied. With a farewell nod, she returned to her car.