Page 87 of 36 Hours

‘And now I’ll take some questions,’ she said as Bryant groaned behind her.

Daily Mail. ‘Do you think your man is making a fool of you?’

‘Only if people think the torture and murder of an innocent man is funny, and I don’t see many people laughing.’

Sunrise News. ‘Do you think he’s too clever for you?’

Of course that had been Ashworth’s question. ‘He’s been lucky. Next.’

Daily Mirror. ‘Are Forensics involved?’

‘All resources are being used. This incident is not being treated lightly.’

Midland News Group. ‘Will you be releasing the identity of the victim?’

‘Once his family has been located and informed. Next?’

Sunrise News – again. ‘Do you feel responsible for not finding the man before the train splattered him all over the tracks? And a second question. Are the police sticking to the letter of the law during this investigation?’

She felt Bryant’s presence behind her and knew it was time to end. But first she allowed the smirking Ashworth to see the repulsion on her face.

Woody was probably sending messages threatening to come and physically remove her.

She nodded her thanks to the press for their time and moved away from the microphone, even though questions were still being fired like bullets at her back.

She’d been way more open than anyone above her pay grade would want, but she hoped sharing those details had served a purpose.

Laugh at her all they liked but not at their victim. He had done nothing except take up an offer of kindness. He didn’t deserve the mirth that was being attached to every news report.

‘Guv, might be an idea to head off somewhere Woody won’t find you. He’s on the warpath.’

‘Oh, I have just the place in mind,’ Kim said, heading straight for the car.

It was time to go digging for secrets.

SEVENTY

8.40A.M.

Only good manners that she hadn’t realised she possessed had kept her away from this address for the last twelve hours. But there were very few single parents with two children not up and functioning by this hour.

And so it was that Joanne Deary answered the door with her jacket already on.

‘May we have a?—’

‘Not right now. I have to get this one to school,’ she said, pushing a young boy out of the door. ‘And we’ve already had a drama about odd socks. Can it wait?’ she asked, reversing the pushchair out of the door.

‘Not really,’ Kim said.

She hated lingering questions, and this one had been off and on all night.

‘Are you walking?’ Kim asked as Joanne did a three-point turn with the buggy.

‘Of course.’

‘We’ll tag along,’ Kim said, not being one to interfere in any child’s education.

‘So, your uncle, the one that suggested using Seekers, is Eric Lane?’