Vitor Lopes, the barman at the White Horse, placed the rattling crate of soft drink bottles onto the bar, wiped his hands on his jeans and smiled at Lucy.

‘Can I help you?’ If there had been a Portuguese accent, it had been almost erased by a strong Brummie one.

‘I’m investigating a murder and wonder if you can assist me.’ Lucy lifted her ID card.

Vitor revealed startling white teeth made all the brighter by his Mediterranean complexion. ‘And how can I help?’ The smile was still in place, like a Cheshire cat’s. Only the icy-blue eyes gave away his true reaction to her presence.

‘Do you know Lee Webster?’

The answer was quick. ‘Yes.’

‘Was he here last night?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was he with anybody?’

‘For a while he was alone. Adam Brannon came at ten fifteen and joined him for one drink.’

Once again, the answer was quick; too quick. ‘How can you be so certain on the timings?’

‘It went very quiet in here after nine thirty last night, which was most unusual for a Friday night. Lee came in at the same time as a large group was leaving, and we talked for a while because there was no one else to serve. Adam arrived later, ordered a pint and they moved across to sit over there.’ He nodded at a table in the corner.

‘And you’re positive Adam arrived at ten fifteen?’

Vitor flashed an even wider smile and pointed a finger to his left. She glanced that way. A clock showing the correct time was hanging above a strip of peanuts.

‘Are you friendly with Adam?’

He shook his head. ‘I only pass the time of day with him when he comes in with Lee. I’ve watched him fight though. He’s fast on his feet and has a good left hook. He runs the boxing club just off Ashmore Estate, although you probably know that already, officer. Heard good things about him. People are glad he’s given the youngsters there a place to hang out and work off some of their frustrations. He comes in here about once a fortnight or so. He’s not much of a talker. He and Lee are mates. I know Lee better.’

‘How did Adam seem last night?’

‘Normal.’

‘Did he say anything to you?’

‘Only remarked that it was dead in here and asked what I’d done to frighten away all the customers. Laugh a minute is Adam.’ The smile didn’t falter.

‘And he said nothing else?’

‘Not to me. He nudged Lee and suggested they sat down. I got on with collecting glasses and cleaning up. They talked.’

‘I’m sorry to inform you, Mr Brannon’s wife was murdered last night.’

The smile froze.

‘So, it’s imperative you give me correct information regarding Mr Brannon. You understand?’

‘You saying I’m lying?’

‘I’m not suggesting that. I’m asking you to think carefully and confirm that the information you’ve given me is accurate.’

He nodded. ‘Yeah. It’s accurate.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I didn’t know his wife.’ The words seemed out of place. Vitor grabbed the crate again, his biceps bulging as he raised it from the bar. ‘You think he killed her?’

‘We’re currently eliminating people from our enquiry.’

Vitor nodded thoughtfully.

‘If you think of anything that might help us, here’s my number.’ Lucy pushed a business card across the counter. She received a curt nod. He moved away, the bottles chinking in the crate as it bounced against his skinny hips. Lucy watched as he disappeared into the back room then took her leave.

Outside, standing in front of the shabby entrance, she pressed her mobile to her ear.

‘Natalie, his whereabouts have been confirmed. He was with Lee Webster from ten fifteen until he left Lee’s to go home, close to midnight. Barman also remembers them both being here at the White Horse pub beforehand.’

‘Shit. We’ll release Adam for now but I’ll ask Ian to check out CCTV and ANPR cameras to try and locate Adam’s car at around those times. We need concrete proof he was where he said he was.’

Lucy hung up, satisfied Natalie wasn’t going to accept the word of two witnesses to Adam’s whereabouts. That was one of the things she admired about her boss. She examined all the evidence and didn’t merely rely on what people told her. She strode to her car and drove away.

Vitor was watching her movements from a window in an upstairs stockroom. He watched her car drive off and then dialled a number and spoke. ‘Police were here. Yeah, I told them. You better bring that money in later today like you promised or I might have to change my story. You didn’t mention murder, you fucker.’

---

Natalie paced the floor of the office once more. They’d had no grounds to hold Adam and he’d returned to his club. Ian and Murray were searching for any evidence of the two figures spotted running away from the Brannons’ house around 11.15 p.m. and for any sign of the Bentley Bentayga which would confirm Adam’s alibi. She checked her watch. Phoebe, Charlotte’s sister, ought to have arrived at her parents’ house by now. She considered driving over there to speak to the woman and then try to talk to more of her contacts. ‘Ian, do we have a list of Charlotte’s friends?’

‘I’ll print one out. I’ve nothing so far on the two figures running away from the house. I can’t spot anything on the cameras.’

‘Keep looking. We’re going to nail whoever’s behind this, and soon.

Her mobile buzzed and interrupted her thoughts. It was Pinkney, the pathologist.

‘Courtesy call to let you know I’m almost finished with Charlotte. Time of death was between eleven and twelve last night. Charlotte died of blunt force trauma to the temple and fractures to the cranium, resulting in haemorrhaging of the brain. I’ll email my full report over shortly.’

‘Was she sexually assaulted?’

‘Nothing to suggest that was the case.’

She thanked him and ended the call. She thought about Charlotte singing her baby to sleep. Natalie had never been musical, but she’d sung lullabies to both her children when they were babies too. Nowadays they only cringed if they heard her singing along to the radio. The printer whirred into life and churned out a sheet of A4 that Natalie grabbed. She read through the names and was circling the first few when Lucy stomped in.

‘That Lee Webster is a complete wanker,’ she said, eyes flashing. ‘Repeatedly called me “love”. I don’t know if I trusted his answers. He could be covering up for his mate Adam. What’s going on?’ She directed her question at Ian.

‘Still trying to get info on the pair seen near the house at around the time of the murder. The techies are searching Charlotte’s phone and computer in case she met up with somebody from an online dating site or on social media, and we’re about to talk to friends and see if they know anything that can shed some light on this investigation,’ he replied.

Natalie looked up from the list and spoke. ‘We’ve got a list of Charlotte’s contacts. I’ve circled some of the names I’m going to contact, but I want to speak to Charlotte’s sister, Phoebe, before I begin. Make a start on the others, will you?’

She rang the Hills’ home phone to talk to Phoebe. She got Kevin Hill.

‘Phoebe and Jed got held up in traffic. They’ve only just arrived at the house. I’ll ask her to come to the station as soon as they’ve had a cup of tea. Sheila needs some time with her.’

‘I understand that but I need to talk to her as well. Would you prefer me to come around?’

‘No. We’ve got somebody from social services here too. We want Alfie to come home to us and, well, it’s all a bit much. I’ll make sure Phoebe visits you shortly.’

‘Please do. Time is of the essence.’

‘Yes,’ he said wearily. ‘I understand. I have to go now.’

Natalie stared at the black mobile screen. He’d hung up. As irritated as she felt by that, she’d give it an hour. If Phoebe hadn’t shown by then, she’d head to Walnut Cottage and demand to see the woman, regardless of what was happening at their house. She’d use the time meanwhile to work through the list of friends. The first name on Natalie’s list was beauty salon owner, Candice Westfield.

‘I can guess why you’re ringing,’ she said as soon as she heard who was calling. ‘One of my clients told me the police are still outside her house. It’s so horrible. None of us can believe it.’

‘I’m very sorry about Charlotte. I understand you were friends.’

‘When I started up my beauty salon in Eastborough, she was one of my first clients. Used to come in once a week for a massage, treatment and manicure, regular as clockwork.’

‘Candice, I need your help so try to answer my questions as fully as possible. Did Charlotte confide in you at all?’

‘We talked a lot. You do when you’re dealing with clients. You talk about all sorts of stuff: travel, television, boyfriends, everything really. She wasn’t like my bestie or anything but she was really nice and I liked her a lot. She was always so glamorous. I follow her on Instagram and her blog. She featured my salon on it one time. She didn’t tell me all her secrets if that’s what you mean. We chatted – girly stuff.’

‘Do you know her husband, Adam?’

‘I don’t know him, as such. I’ve spoken to him a few times when he’s been in the salon. At first, he never came in. He used to wait outside like some sort of bodyguard, lurking by the window until she was ready to leave. He’d wait for ages. He’s a scary-looking bloke but he’s all right really – quite shy and romantic. He always put an arm around her and kissed her.’

‘Did she talk much about him?’

‘All the time to start with. She’d always be going on about him, his fights and his club. She was totally loved up.’

‘You said “to start with”. Did she stop talking about him?’

‘That was when they first started going out together and got engaged. After they married and moved out of their old place in Samford to their fabulous new home in Eastborough, she mostly talked about the house. There was so much going on: her folks had hired a professional designer to furnish it for them, so we’d discuss what they’d chosen for the place… and clothes, of course. Then, in February last year, she found out she was expecting. Her life was so exciting. She had everything.’ Her voice trailed away. ‘Poor Charlotte.’

‘Candice, did she ever mention another man or suggest she was seeing somebody other than Adam?’

‘Not to me. I can’t imagine she would. She was mad about Adam and he was pretty much always by her side. I think she might even have felt a bit suffocated by him. There was one time when she was about to leave the salon after I’d done her nails, and he was waiting in reception for her. I heard her telling him to give her some space.’

‘Did she seem different to you after Alfie was born?’

‘Difficult to say because once she had the baby, she stopped coming to the salon regularly, apart from Thursday when she came to get her nails done.’

At the other end of the phone, Natalie’s eyebrows rose. This seemed at odds with what they already knew. Inge had told Lucy and Ian that Charlotte often left her babysitting Alfie so she could go to the salon. She made a note to follow it up. Had Charlotte been making excuses so she could see somebody else?

‘What time was that?’

‘She had a ten a.m. appointment.’

‘How did she seem that day?’

‘Very quiet. Not at all like she used to be when we used to joke about. She brought Alfie into the salon with her. He didn’t make a peep. Such a sweet baby. He gave me a lovely smile. She said she’d not had much time for herself since he was born. I figured she was like lots of mums I know – worn out.’

‘She didn’t mention Adam?’

‘No, but I think he called her while she was here. Her phone rang and she made a tutting noise and then answered. I didn’t deliberately listen in but she wasn’t happy. She was very short with him. Responded in one-word answers, you know like you do when you’re angry with somebody? Something along the lines of, “No… I will… Tomorrow.” I didn’t pry. She rolled her eyes afterwards and said, “Men!” and we both laughed, then I told her about my recent holiday in Bali.’

---

The conversation with Candice had been enlightening. It seemed Charlotte had spoken to somebody while at the salon Thursday morning. They’d check to see if it was Adam. Natalie joined Lucy and, together, using the information from Charlotte’s phone provider, pinpointed the call made to her mobile on Thursday between 10 and 11 a.m. There had only been one and it came from a local fixed-line number. Natalie rang it and found herself talking to an estate agent called Suzie Connolly. She introduced herself and asked about Charlotte. There was hushed whispering as Suzie spoke to another person in the office. She returned, her voice full of professionalism, and answered smoothly.

‘I’m sorry, but we don’t know anyone called Charlotte Brannon. You might try our colleague, Rob Cooke. He works here too, but he’s out of the office this weekend. He’s at a conference.’

‘Do you have a mobile number for him?’

‘I’m not supposed to give out personal details.’

Natalie was firm in her response. ‘I’m heading an investigation into her murder and I’d very much appreciate your assistance. I need to speak to Mr Cooke and find out if he knows Charlotte Brannon. So, could you please give me a contact number for him, or do I have to waste valuable time and come to your office for it?’

The woman became flustered. ‘One moment. I have to find it. I’ll pop you on hold if you don’t mind.’

Natalie was left listening to irritating Peruvian pan flute music. The woman returned after two verses of some song Natalie couldn’t identify. She wrote down the contact details and hung up.

Rob Cooke didn’t pick up so Natalie left a message for him and hunted through the police general database in case his name cropped up. It didn’t. Her stomach growled, reminding her she’d missed lunch. She searched through her handbag and pulled out one of the bars of chocolate she kept for such situations; she almost unconsciously unwrapped it and ate while she tried to make sense of what they’d learnt so far. A report pinged into her inbox. It was from the technical team. They’d not found any dating apps or dating website activity on Charlotte’s phone or laptop. They were currently searching her social media for any possible boyfriends or useful information.

Lucy was on the phone talking to another of Charlotte’s friends. She put a hand over the receiver and mouthed, ‘Nothing yet.’

Natalie swallowed the last of the chocolate and absent-mindedly brushed crumbs from her lap. She dialled the second name she’d circled. Madeleine Downley had attended the same school as Charlotte and her sister, Phoebe. She’d also learnt about Charlotte’s death from friends on social media.

‘It’s all over Facebook,’ Madeleine said. ‘One of our old classmates posted about it. He said the police were outside her house last night and her body was taken away in the early hours of the morning. Was it an accident or was she killed?’

‘We can’t release any details yet but we are treating her death as suspicious.’

There was the sound of breath being sucked in. ‘Oh my gosh! That’s so awful.’

‘We’re trying to build a picture of Charlotte. What can you tell us about her?’

‘I haven’t seen her since she and Adam got married. I got an invite to the wedding but I was on holiday at the time, so I couldn’t go. I wasn’t that fussed about it. We’d drifted apart. After school, I went to college in Leeds and she went to London. We met up a few times during holidays and after we’d finished our courses, but it wasn’t the same as when we were younger.’

‘What was she like?’

‘At school she was, like, a right rebel. All the teachers thought butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but Charlotte would be behind the bike sheds with the rest of us, smoking and showing her tits to whoever was there. We had some fun times after we left school too. Charlotte was always up for a good night out, or a party. She had a thing about bad boys too. I think that’s why she ended up with Adam. She found out he’d been in prison and she was, like, fascinated by it. She went to his boxing club to watch him fight. Made me go along with her. She was all over him afterwards, making big eyes at him. It was around that time I stopped hanging out with her. She only ever wanted to go where she thought Adam would be but I wasn’t comfortable with that. We fell out about it. She wanted me to double date with one of his creepy friends and I wouldn’t.’

‘She chased after Adam?’

‘That was Charlotte all over. She always went after what she shouldn’t have. She was spoilt rotten, you know? Her parents gave her and her sister everything they wanted. She only had to ask her dad and she’d get it. She used to joke about it. Sometimes she’d ask for stuff she didn’t really want for a dare. We’d say, “Ask for a new phone,” and so she would and come back with one the next day. She also used to try to piss them off. There was the time her mum told her she couldn’t get a tattoo, so Charlotte did anyway, and a belly piercing. She was, like, mega-confident. You know those girls who don’t look amazing, but they know how to put together really edgy outfits and suddenly they’re like, wow? That was so Charlotte. She could make anybody stare at her just by what she was wearing. You seen her online photos?’

Natalie replied she had.

‘Then you know what I mean. She had something really powerful about her. An attraction, that’s the word. She drew people to her, like a magnet.’

‘Did you know her sister Phoebe too?’ Natalie was tiring of the upward inflection at the end of every sentence Madeleine uttered, making each sound like a question.

‘Phoebe was too old and posh to hang out with us. She’s nothing like Charlotte.’

‘You haven’t spoken to Charlotte in over a year?’

‘No. I tried to get back in contact, for old time’s sake. I messaged her on Snapchat and she sent a photo of her baby.’

‘Then you have been in contact over the last six months?’

‘Only that one time. She didn’t keep up the conversation. No biggie. I have other friends and a life.’

---

Natalie tapped her pen against the notepad on her desk. Charlotte didn’t appear to be the person everyone imagined she was. To some she seemed uber-confident and happy; to others, she was trapped in a love-lost relationship, feeling suffocated. Both Inge’s mother, Sabine Redfern, and Charlotte’s own mother, Sheila, believed Charlotte was having marital problems. She’d told Sheila her husband was becoming increasingly aggressive; Sabine, that Adam was having trouble bonding with his son; and Candice, the salon owner, thought she felt suffocated by him. Adam had vehemently denied the accusations. To his mind, he and Charlotte were in a sound relationship. Was he bluffing? Had Charlotte been telling the truth to these people?

Her parents believed her to be a loyal daughter who required their assistance and yet both Adam and Madeleine had affirmed Charlotte was playing them purely for money. Was Charlotte a manipulative, selfish individual who would happily say whatever she felt necessary to get what she wanted? Somebody was definitely lying. Maybe Phoebe could help Natalie get a better understanding. The room smelt of sweat and cheese-and-onion crisps. Natalie decided to get out for some air. As she rose to her feet, her mobile rang. The voice at the other end was concerned and breathless.

‘I’m Rob Cooke of Cartwright and Butler estate agency. I got a message to phone this number and speak to DI Ward. What’s happened? Is it Charlotte? Has he hurt her?’