‘We’re investigating . . .’ Jessica started to say but she was interrupted.

‘I had to lie to my husband and tell him it wasn’t me. He pointed out how similar I looked to the photograph and I had to say I didn’t know anything about it.’

‘So you admit it is you in the photograph with Edward Marks?’

The woman twitched ever so slightly as if trying to suppress a full-on shiver at the mention of the name. ‘What of it?’

‘Can I ask you how you knew Mr Marks?’

Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Do you already know?’

‘We’ve been told . . . certain things.’

‘So why do you need me to tell you?’

‘Because we don’t know if what was told to us is true.’

The woman sighed, looking away. ‘Why are you bringing this back up? It was over ten years ago. I’ve moved on.’ For the first time her voice faltered slightly.

Jessica wasn’t usually nervous in interviews but she knew this one wasn’t going to get her anything. Everything about the way the woman had spoken initially and how she had handed herself in indicated she had nothing to hide. ‘Do you know what happened to Mr Marks and his friends from that holiday?’ she asked.

The woman turned sharply and looked back at Jessica. ‘I don’t care.’

‘One is definitely dead, the other five are assumed murdered.’

‘I saw about the hands on the news. What does it matter?’

‘Because you’re the one connection we have that goes back to the six of them.’ Jessica paused and then added, ‘And, from what we’ve been told, you might well have had the motive.’

Sam snorted, looking away with tears in her eyes. ‘You’re joking, right? I mean, when I read about the picture you’d released I wondered why you wanted me. I thought perhaps you might have thought I was a witness to something, maybe even that you wanted to investigate what happened back then. I should have known you were going to accuse me of, I don’t know, whatever. It’s like those shit cop shows.’

‘We’re not accusing you of anything.’

‘Why am I here then?’ Sam was shouting now, emotional, standing and pushing back her chair.

Jessica was lost for words and surprised when Rowlands spoke. ‘It’s okay, Sam.’ They were the first words he had uttered since the woman had entered the room. The outcome was strange because he had only said three words but it was almost as if hearing her own name calmed the woman. Sam looked at him and regained her composure, sitting and staring back at Jessica.

‘We’re not out to trip you up,’ Jessica said, trying to sound reassuring.

‘What do you want to know?’

‘I know it’s going to be hard but can you tell us what happened on holiday eleven years ago?’

Sam looked sideways to Dave, who gave a small nod. The woman said she had initially enjoyed a holiday romance with Edward but then went on to confirm more or less everything Steven Povey had told them. Her mood veered from anger to upset and back again before eventually finishing calmly.

‘This is the first time I’ve told anyone about this since it happened,’ she added. ‘My husband doesn’t know and we’ve been together for five years. We’ve got two kids.’

Sam seemed steady and Jessica made sure she was all right to continue talking. The woman nodded, and said she wanted everything finished with. ‘We have got to ask you about your whereabouts over the past few weeks,’ Jessica said.

‘Can I use my phone? My diary is on there.’

Jessica ran through the dates the hands had been left, as well as the nights before and a few other random times in between. With the exception of one instance, Sam had an alibi for everything. She helped out in clubs for her children and her family had recently been on a week-long holiday with friends. Rowlands took notes of everything and it would be checked discreetly but Jessica knew it would all match up. With her husband also with her on the holiday, it seemed to rule him out too.

Sam asked if they could keep everything from her husband and Jessica assured her they would try. He wasn’t a suspect and, although they would check the details of the holiday and make sure he was there, it didn’t necessarily mean he had to be informed. The woman repeated she had never told anyone, including her parents, about what had happened, insisting she’d had no contact with any of the men after that night in Faliraki. Jessica believed her and asked for the woman’s maiden name, if only for their records.

They released her and Jessica gave the woman her card just in case she managed to think of anything. Jessica phoned Cole to tell him what had happened but the car journey back to Manchester proved to be something of an inquest, the only positive that they would be back in plenty of time for Jessica to get to Caroline’s house.

‘Poor woman,’ Rowlands said.

‘It’s my fault,’ Jessica replied. ‘I didn’t know what else to do and ended up sticking her face on the news for no reason other than the fact she was attacked eleven years ago. She spent all this time getting over it then I punished her for it.’

‘It wasn’t your fault,’ Dave said but Jessica knew it was. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t had many other options; it was her who had gone to the DCI and asked to work with the press office. Jessica didn’t reply but it wasn’t long before Rowlands asked the question she knew she didn’t have the answer to. ‘What do we do now?’

Unless another hand showed up unexpectedly, they were completely out of leads. ‘I really don’t know,’ Jessica said, not even trying to hide her dejection.

Between the two of them, they went over everything that had happened so far. They still had the CCTV footage of the woman in black but no clue as to the person’s identity and, now that Sam Kellett had pretty much been ruled out – although it would take some time to officially check her alibis – no reason why the person was making things so public.

They could return to the lists of college-leavers but everything had already been gone over once and, as the holiday photo had shown, the links between the young men could be widespread and unexpected. Jessica felt deflated and unsure what she should do next.

Because of the light traffic, they had time to go via the station. Jessica went to Cole’s office, reiterating what she had told him on the phone. She would arrange for an officer to formally check Sam Kellett’s whereabouts but had no doubts it would be accurate.

Cole said the garage owner had started to speak in the Johnson case. The man apparently had text messages that could implicate George Johnson but the chief inspector said that was information that couldn’t get out. Jessica felt strange that something so big was going on where she worked but that she wasn’t a part of it and even worse that her case had stalled. They agreed to leave things over the weekend, which would give them a chance to think things over, then decide where to go next on Monday. It wasn’t ideal but, with Caroline’s wedding, Jessica didn’t have any better ideas.

Jessica tried to have a fun evening with her friend on her ‘last evening of freedom’ party as Caroline had dubbed it. The two women drank and reminisced about their younger days. Jessica tried to put to the back of her mind the feelings of failure and inertia at having her investigation come to a halt. She happily shared bottles of wine and the more she drank, the more she felt able to laugh and join in. Caroline asked who she was bringing the following day but Jessica remained tight-lipped. ‘You don’t know him,’ was all she would say, adding she had arranged to meet the person at the church.

The Saturday morning was a rush of people coming and going from Caroline’s flat. The bride-to-be had a small team of her friends and relatives from the groom’s side coming round to help her get ready, with Jessica left to sort herself and the other bridesmaids into their light blue dresses. The two younger bridesmaids were relatively cooperative and their parents were also present to help, which was a relief. The girly atmosphere wasn’t really to her taste and she was glad when everyone had finally left and it was just her and Caroline alone waiting for the car to take them to the church. The bride anxiously watched the clock on her wall as Jessica tried to assure her everything would be fine.