‘Particularly fair to you though, isn’t he?’

McKenna’s solicitor went to interrupt but Jessica talked over the top of him, eyes fixed on the prisoner, daring him to look away again. ‘Nice room you’ve got there, perhaps a little small? It could maybe do with a bit of internal decoration and I have no idea what those Feng Shui-types would make of it but it’s not bad for this place, is it?’

The man in the suit stopped speaking as McKenna raised his own voice to talk over him. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at?’

‘Really? You can’t possibly imagine what I might be asking about?’

‘No.’

‘Well, how about this little scenario. Let’s say, for instance, that there’s a particular person in charge of a certain set of other people. Now that person in charge is generally a perfectly good man, maybe he’s got a long history of honesty. But maybe, just maybe, there’s someone in that certain group he’s supposed to be looking after that isn’t as honest. Maybe he’s a bit of a thug, a bit of a bully. He does things like hold shotguns up to innocent people just going about their business . . .’

It felt as if the temperature in the room had dropped by a degree or two. There was absolute silence except for Jessica’s voice, as if the other three people present had held their breath and were hanging on what she might say next.

‘Now let’s say, just for instance, that the previously honest person in charge was swayed by the other man. Maybe there was some sort of incentive involved? Perhaps some money on offer? Maybe it was more of a stick than a carrot? Perhaps there were threats instead? Promises that loved ones would be harmed? It could be a mixture. Are you still with me, Donald? Now in that hypothetical situation – and bear in mind it is completely fictional – can you perhaps see what I might be getting at?’

The prisoner said nothing but looked sideways to his solicitor. Taking the hint, the man in the suit spoke, his voice faltering slightly. ‘I think we should end the interview at this point, Sergeant Daniel.’

For the third time that morning, Jessica deliberately switched track. She pushed backwards on the chair, scraping it along the ground. She stood and spoke in her most upbeat voice. ‘Good idea.’

She knocked on the door and guards came in to escort McKenna and his solicitor away.

When they had left, Rowlands stopped the recording and picked up the folders from the table. ‘Wow,’ he said. ‘That was good.’

Jessica gave him a small smile. ‘He’s still got us though. We have nothing to go on.’

‘Yeah, but you got him rattled.’

‘Hmm, yeah. Do I know what’s going to happen next? No. But it could be interesting.’

The constable burst out laughing and Jessica turned to look at him. ‘What?’

‘You’re talking like the DCI now, asking yourself questions and then answering them.’

Jessica grimaced as Rowlands changed his expression. ‘What do you reckon?’ he asked.

‘I think McKenna’s lying to us – but I don’t believe he was the only one.’

11

Lee Morgan slammed the pint glass down on the bar a little harder than he meant to. He felt the vibration ripple through his hand but luckily it didn’t smash. ‘Another one of those, love,’ he said, pointing at the pump for the local brand of bitter. ‘You want one?’ he asked the man sitting on a stool next to him.

‘Nah, I’ve probably had one too many already. I still have to drive home tonight.’

‘There’s a word for people like you – “lightweight”.’

Lee Morgan was at the bar in his local pub. When he had first moved into the area twenty or so years ago, he thought this place was magnificent. It was a proper man’s pub with smoke drifting around the room, quality booze on offer and barmaids who wore low-cut tops and enjoyed the odd glass of wine themselves, if not a bit more. Over the years, it had gone further and further downhill. The gradual increase in women coming into the place had been the start and then they opened the patio at the back and started letting kids in. After that it was a slippery slope. They shut the members’ bar, turned it into a kitchen and started serving food. The smoking ban was the final straw. It had gone from a place to get away from the wife to an establishment that openly courted the business of women and kids.

‘This place has become a right dump,’ Lee complained to the man sitting next to him. Even the stools wound him up. Men should stand up to have a pint. It was the way his father had taught him to drink. He said nothing though, he didn’t have too many friends – let alone among the people he worked with.

‘I’ve seen worse,’ the man said, pointing towards the corner of the room. ‘They’ve got a good TV. It might be worth popping in for a match sometime?’

Lee held his tongue again. He hated football and the big television screens just attracted drunken screeching buffoons, the very type of people they were supposed to spend their days keeping an eye on. He nodded to hide his displeasure. ‘What do you reckon about today then?’

The man blew out through his teeth but didn’t get a chance to reply before the barmaid put a fresh drink down next to them. ‘That’s two fifty please,’ she said.

‘Two pounds fifty?’ Lee replied, clearly annoyed.

‘That is what the last one cost,’ the barmaid answered.

‘Yeah, but he paid for that,’ Lee said, nodding towards his friend and pulling a crumpled five-pound note out of his pocket. ‘How much are crisps?’

‘Eighty pence.’

‘What, even for ready salted? You’re having a laugh, love.’

‘We don’t do ready salted,’ the barmaid said. She crouched down to look at the boxes of crisps on the floor. ‘We’ve got chilli twists, then beef and mustard, tomato ketchup and, er, pickled-onion flavour.’

As she stood back up to face them, Lee stared at her, eyebrows raised. ‘Nah, forget it, darling. I’ll just have the drink.’ He looked at the man next to him. ‘It used to just be ready salted, cheese and onion and salt and vinegar in my day.’

The barmaid took the note and returned a few seconds later with his change.

‘So what do you reckon?’ Lee repeated.

‘I don’t know,’ the man said. ‘It sounds serious, doesn’t it? The guv sounded pissed off at the briefing yesterday and then the coppers didn’t even turn up. I could have done without all that tidying up and everything. Then, when they did come around today, they didn’t even get round to my area. What did they make of your wing?’

‘Not sure. Gallagher took them down there but he didn’t say anything to me afterwards. All the prisoners were bundled down into the games room. They were fuming. It was hilarious when they all filed back through. Some of the worst ones had been dumped out in the rec yard just to keep them away in case the Old Bill wanted to talk to any of them.’

The other man laughed nervously. ‘No one caused any trouble, did they?’

‘No chance. They wouldn’t want to risk having their TV taken away for a day or two, would they?’

‘What did that woman detective say to you?’

Lee knew his friend was referring to the moment when she had asked him about McKenna. He took a gulp of his drink and shook his head. ‘Nothing really. Stuck-up cow probably on her time of the month or something.’

The other man laughed. ‘What was it you shouted after her?’

‘When?’

‘In the monitoring room. She was walking out the door and you called after her?’

‘Oh yeah. I don’t remember, sorry. Probably something about her arse.’

The other man laughed again. ‘Have you heard the rumours?’ he said.

‘Why, what have you heard?’

‘Only bits. It’s all about McKenna obviously. They’ve pulled him off your block twice to talk to him. People have been saying they’re trying to get him to confess to other crimes. Someone was going on about some kiddy stuff but others reckon it’s some new murder.’