Jessica changed the channel to some reality show spinoff. She wasn’t particularly interested but was happy to sit through anything that would take her mind off the day’s shambles. The sun had almost set and, even with the flat’s curtains open, the room was pretty dark. She was still wearing her work suit but felt warm and a little sleepy, putting her head on the armrest of the sofa and sinking further into it before closing her eyes for a moment.

She awoke with a jump what she thought was a few seconds later. She had finally changed the ringtone of her phone to some rock song she loved from when she was younger. She could hear the tune kicking in but didn’t know where the sound was coming from. The television was off and the room was light. She looked at the analogue clock on the wall above the TV but couldn’t take in what it was telling her. Disorientated, she tried to sit up and a blanket that had been covering her fell to the floor. The noise stopped and she rubbed her eyes to get a better look at the time. It was sometime around five past nine. Had she really slept all night? Caroline must have come in and switched the set off and put the blanket over her.

She shook her head, trying to wake up, and went to look for her phone. Her bag and shoes were on the floor next to the living-room door as they always were but her phone wasn’t in her bag. Jessica hunted around the room, looking under the pile of magazines on the coffee table and then the table itself. Eventually she found the device under the sofa. She thought she had left it in her bag but had long since failed to be surprised by where her phone or keys ever ended up. She had once found her keys in the fridge, so anything was possible.

Jessica thumbed a few buttons and saw she had a missed call from the station’s landline number. She called the number back.

The desk sergeant’s familiar voice answered. ‘I wondered what you were up to. Big night, was it?’

‘Not really. What’s up?’

‘Want to guess who walked into the station half an hour ago?’

‘Lapham? Really?’

‘Yep. It’s not him you’ll have to worry about though. Guess who he was with?’

Jessica started to rack her brain but was still too half-asleep for a guessing game. ‘Go on.’

‘He’s downstairs with everyone’s favourite lawyer: Peter Hunt.’

17

Jessica’s first thought was that Hunt was supposed to be busy dealing with Harry’s stabbing case and then she remembered it was Saturday. A second thought then occurred to her; how on earth had a career criminal like Wayne Lapham managed to get one of the best-known defence lawyers in the city, possibly the country, to represent him?

Then the penny dropped.

Lapham had been all over the previous night’s news and there was little doubt he would be on the front of most of that day’s papers. The chance to represent someone as high-profile as that must have been too much for Hunt to resist. Maybe Lapham had even read about Tom Carpenter handing himself in via Hunt? Or perhaps he had seen something of the Worrall case? Hunt certainly got enough coverage so most of Manchester’s underworld must have been aware of him.

Jessica had a peek around Caroline’s door and could see two bodies entwined with each other sleeping under a sheet. She thought she would leave them to it and left the house quietly without changing. She had slept in her suit from the day before but reckoned it would do for a Saturday.

At the station, even with a reduced staff for the weekend, Jessica could feel a buzz as she walked in. A couple of officers were hanging around the entrance area and stopped to look at her as she headed towards reception. The sergeant who had phoned called her over and handed her an envelope with her name on it. ‘This was dropped in for you,’ he said.

Jessica ripped across the top to find a court summons inside. After the trial’s start had been delayed, her day at Crown Court was going to be Tuesday. She was not only going to be facing Peter Hunt today but in three days’ time as well. She wanted to phone Harry but figured it could wait, doubting he would answer anyway.

‘Cole is already in his office,’ said the sergeant. ‘He said to go see him when you got in. The DCI’s upstairs too.’

‘A full house then?’

The desk sergeant gave her a wink. ‘Just like any other day.’

Jessica went to see Cole first. His office was only two doors down from hers and next to the canteen. It was a room smaller than the office she and Reynolds shared but the inspector did have the space to himself. Jessica knocked once and went in. He was sitting behind the desk typing on the computer but stopped and looked up as she entered.

‘Hey,’ Jessica said.

‘You’ve heard then?’

‘Hunt? Yeah, I got the call. Are we going in together?’

‘Yes. I spoke to the DCI already. He was fuming that Hunt was involved but said to play it cool.’

Jessica gave him a small smile. ‘That’s a given for you anyway.’

‘I think he was talking about you.’

Jessica went to the interview room to set up the tape as Cole went to get Wayne Lapham and his solicitor from the holding cells below the station. Although he had come voluntarily, Lapham was still their only suspect in a double murder and had been arrested accordingly. He had been locked in a cell awaiting Jessica’s arrival. A few minutes later, he was brought handcuffed into the interview room by Cole and a uniformed officer, Peter Hunt by his side.

Wayne Lapham was short but still had broad shoulders and a fiery look about him. Jessica knew from his file that he was forty but he looked older. He was unshaven, his greying dark hair cropped close to his head with a visible scar across his forehead that ended above his left eye. He was wearing a sweatshirt but with the sleeves rolled up revealing two arms completely covered with tattoos of varying designs. Jessica saw that his tracksuit bottoms had a small hole in one of the knees. Peter Hunt looked immaculate on the other hand. He stood tall next to his client, towering over him in a brown pinstripe suit that appeared to be custom-fitted. He was wearing a white shirt with a wide collar and a thick matching brown tie knotted tight to his neck. His blond hair had no traces of white or grey and was impressively styled almost into a quiff but with something of a side-parting. He was carrying a leather briefcase that looked very expensive.

They couldn’t have looked more different.

Lapham was the first to sit, Hunt taking the chair next to him. He put his case down by his side and placed a notepad on the table. Cole sat next to the tape recorder, pressing the buttons to start the recording and, as usual, introduced everyone present and formally cautioned the suspect. Jessica stayed standing while that happened before finally taking her seat directly opposite her only suspect.

Nobody had said a word before Wayne Lapham commented: ‘Ye are pretty cute, y’know?’ He was looking directly at Jessica and gave her a wink. She noticed that he had an earring in his right ear and another tattoo just below his earlobe. He had a Scottish accent that had mellowed with time but was still noticeable.

Peter Hunt said nothing so Jessica let the silence hang before asking him where he had been during the hours Yvonne Christensen had been killed.

Wayne’s reply was forceful, a direct challenge. ‘Pub? Home? Sleeping? I dunno. Where were you?’

Cole stepped in. ‘Mr Hunt, would you like to advise your client?’

Hunt had a neutral expression on his face, looking down at a notepad in front of him. He glanced at his client. ‘Just answer as best you can.’

‘I’ll try again,’ Jessica said before repeating the question.