“I asked. Not until the end of the week. They reckon he’ll be in and out of consciousness until then. He was minutes away from death, apparently.”

“Crap! Well, we’ve just got to keep doing what we’re doing until we can visit him. That’s the only option available to us right now.”

She stood and threw him a pound coin. “Grab us both a coffee, and I’ll meet you at the board. We’ll have an in-depth look, see if anything comes to light.”

“It’ll be a waste of time, but what other choice do we have until we speak to Dorling?” Jack grumbled.

After finishing their drinks, they still hadn’t come up with anything they had managed to miss before. So they did it all again. This time, Sally took a red marker pen and drew lines on the board. “Oh my God! Are you seeing what I’m seeing, Jack?”

“All I’m looking at is you making a mess.”

“Look at the dates. More importantly, the days.” She turned sideways and studied the changing expressions on his face. “Come on. Now I’ve said that, it should be obvious.”

“To you, maybe. But then, that’s nothing new. Who knows what goes on it that head of yours most of the time.”

“Cut the sarcastic comments and concentrate.”

Jack still couldn’t grasp what she was getting at, even with the clue she’d dropped. She exhaled a large breath. “You really need to work on those observational skills, partner. Everyone, gather around, please.”

The team joined them, and she asked the group, “Look at the dates, team. What do you see?”

Silence filled the room for a few moments, then Joanna called out, “They’re either Sundays or Mondays. Is that what you’re hinting at, boss?”

“Spot on, Joanna. Go to the top of the class. And what does that tell us?”

Sally’s gaze latched on to Jack again. He fidgeted on the spot until Joanna spoke, “Are you insinuating the killer only visits the area on a Sunday or Monday, boss?”

“Either that, or the killer has some form of weird shift pattern. It’s something we’ve missed and should look into right away. Let’s start making a list of possible jobs and go from there.” Sally moved over to the clean whiteboard and wrote “lorry driver” at the top of the board.

“How does a lorry driver work shifts?” Jack asked.

“He doesn’t. I’m trying to think outside the box a little. What if a driver delivers regularly in the area on a Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday? I’m looking at the angle of someone being on the road rather than working a shift in a factory. Stick with me here.”

“I think I get where you’re heading. How are we going to find out?”

Sally tutted at her partner’s failure to think for himself. “By ringing the haulage firms in the area. That might be a good start, yes?”

“But there’s a car, not a lorry, on our radar, isn’t there?” Jack queried.

“You’re right. However, these drivers don’t tend to take the lorries they drive home with them, Jack. They would use their own vehicles to drive to and from base, wouldn’t they?”

“Okay, it was only an observation. No need to snap my head off. I’ll check into it.” Jack’s shoulders slumped as he made his way back to his desk.

Sally knew his outburst was born out of frustration and chose to ignore it. “Any other possibilities?”

“Like you say, shift workers. People working in a factory. Are there any around the area?” Jordan asked.

“Why don’t you find that out, Jordan? I know of at least two factories in the area. See if you can find any others, okay? I’m struggling to recall the names.”

The detective rushed back to his seat and tapped the keys on his computer. “Boss, that’s a negative. Just the two you suggested, from what I can see.”

“Get them on the phone, see what kind of shifts they work. Anything else?” Sally asked the rest of the team.

Joanna shrugged. “Some kind of salesman, the travelling variety. Not sure how we’ll be able to track down that kind of information, boss.”

“That’s a toughie. I like the idea, though. What if there’s a connection to the pubs? Do salesmen visit pubs?”

“I could ring the pubs where the victims worked and ask,” Joanna offered.

“Do that. How would that connect to our last victim, I wonder? She wasn’t a barmaid.”

“What if the rep sells savoury snacks? Petrol stations stock them, don’t they?” Jordan proposed.

“You’re right. Guys, I think we might finally be getting somewhere.”

The team busied themselves making call after call, and Sally’s heart swelled with pride at their enthusiasm. When six o’clock arrived, she dismissed the team and entered her office with the intention of making several calls. The first call she made was to the vet to see how Dex was faring. He was still sedated, but Dr. Munroe had managed to strap up the ribs to ease his discomfort. Next, Sally rang her parents to share the news and see if everything at home was all right. “Hi, Mum. Has everything been quiet around there today?”

“Yes, dear. I’ve stayed inside most of the day. I did look out the window once or twice to see if the neighbours were up to any mischief, but with you locking that little bugger up, things seem to be a bit calmer.”

“Well, I’ve got news on that front. I rang the council to lodge a complaint against the family. They informed me that they’d already issued the family with a final warning and will be following through on that warning and serving them an eviction order.”

“Wow, really? How wonderful.”

“Great news, except there’s every chance the family might kick off when they’re turfed out. If we can pin the council down to a definite day when that is going to take place, I could get uniformed police to patrol the area. It would put all our minds at ease, yes?”

“It would indeed, love. Have you rung the vets?”

“Yep, just got off the phone to him. Dex is still sedated, but recovering well. He’s young. I’m sure he’ll be fine once his bones knit together, Mum.”

“You’re full of good news today. What time will you be home? I’ve made toad in the hole for dinner.”

Sally groaned. “Bugger, I love that, but I’m going to pull an all-nighter, Mum. I have shitloads of paperwork and an interesting development has cropped up on the case that I want to focus on.”

“You can’t do that. Come home and start afresh tomorrow, love.”

“I’ll grab a few hours in the chair, Mum. I need to do it. I quite often do this. You just never hear about it.” Sally laughed when her mother gasped.

“How dreadful! I had no idea. Your father won’t be happy to hear about that.”

“I’m a grown woman. He’ll have to lump it. I’m going before the lecture goes OTT. See you both tomorrow.”

“I know it’s pointless to argue with you. Take care, darling.”

Sally hung up and immersed herself in the paperwork that had built up over the past few days. She finally gave into exhaustion and fell asleep at around one in the morning.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

A few days later, and with no other murders to contend with, Sally received the call from the prison to say that Dorling had regained consciousness and was now available to interview. She grabbed the sketch of the suspect and prodded Jack in the back as she walked through the incident room. “Time to go, partner.”

“Where are we going?” He trotted to catch up with her on the stairs.

“Prison. We’ve got the all-clear to speak to Dorling.”

“Hey, there’s one thing that’s bugging me about this.”

She stopped on the stairs and looked at him. “What’s that?”

“If it turns out that Dorling is innocent, in spite of the DNA pointing him out to be the killer, then surely he should be released, shouldn’t he?”

“One step at a time, Jack. Let’s see what he has to say first.”

During the journey, Sally contemplated her partner’s words. If Dorling was innocent, someone must have set him up. But who? And for what reason? Maybe showing him the sketch would help him answer that himself.