The room buzzed for a few seconds as the team began their tasks. Then within seconds, calm returned.

“Are you ready to go, Jack?”

He nodded and headed for the door. “Let’s hope this doesn’t turn out to be a waste of time like the previous visit.”

“That’s what I like to hear—the positivity resonating in your tone.” She laughed when he halted on the stairs and glared at her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Les Dorling was sitting upright against his puffed-up pillows in his hospital bed when Sally and Jack arrived at the prison hospital wing. His demeanour altered the second he saw Sally, Jack, and the warden enter the room. He shuffled down in the bed, and his eyes flickered shut, as if he were pretending he was still having trouble seeing properly to prolong his stay in hospital.

With a smile set firmly in place, Sally spoke to the men accompanying her out the side of her mouth, “It would appear we have an actor in our midst.”

“We’ll see about that,” Warden Mountford said. “Time to get tough, I believe, Inspector.”

Sally nodded. “I’ll leave that part to you.”

“Right, Dorling. DI Parker and DS Blackman have come back to question you. This time, you will pay attention and answer them fully. Do you hear me?”

One eye inched open, and he glanced up at them. “But the doc says that I need bed rest and shouldn’t be disturbed.”

“Bollocks. The doctor said he’s pleased with your progress and that you’re prone to laying it on thick when it pleases you. He also said that he has every intention of discharging you this afternoon. That wouldn’t occur to him if he had any doubts about your recovery,” the warden said brusquely.

Dorling held up his hands and opened his eyes fully. “Okay, it’s a fair cop. The rest in a comfy bed was nice while it lasted.”

Sally was seething inside. She hated people making a fool of her, especially prisoners. She swallowed her annoyance and showed Dorling the sketch. Instantly, she could tell that Dorling recognised the person. “Who is he?”

He twisted his head from side to side. “I think he used to be my best friend.”

“Does this man have a name?” Sally’s heart rate quickened.

“Jed Liddell, if that is him. Are you telling me he’s set me up for these crimes?”

“That’s what it looks like to me. Why would he do that, Mr. Dorling?”

“How the effing hell would I know?” He scratched his head. “I’m asking myself the same question.”

“Okay, let’s go back to when you ‘used to be friends.’ Can you tell me why that friendship ended?”

“Jesus, to think I tried to kill myself because of that prick!”

“When was the last time you saw him?”

“About five years ago, maybe longer.”

A sinking feeling attacked Sally’s insides. If it’s been years, how did Liddell have access to Dorling’s semen? “Are you aware that your semen was found as DNA evidence at every murder scene, before you were locked up and after?” Dorling nodded. “How would Liddell have access to that if you haven’t laid eyes on him in years?”

He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “He was seeing this girl, who took a liking to me. We had an affair behind his back. He kicked her out when he heard about the affair.”

“How many years ago are we talking about here?”

“I don’t know, about seven, I suppose.”

“Okay, but you said you thought it had been five years or so since you last saw him…” Sally folded her arms.

“He showed up, saying I owed him, that I’d robbed him of the one woman he’d truly been happy with. He’d planned on settling down and having children with her.”

“And?”

“Well, he said that he’d met someone new and they were struggling to have a family. They had attended some kind of clinic…”

“A fertility clinic?”

“Yes, that’s it. I couldn’t figure out where the conversation was going until he produced a pot and asked me to give him a sample of my semen.”

“What? For what reason?”

“He said that he didn’t want the doctors to think it was his fault that he and his new wife couldn’t have a baby. They were in the process of testing his sperm count. He shoved the pot, actually two sample pots, at me and ordered me to fill them.”

“And you did it? Why?”

“He said I owed him for stealing his girlfriend. You didn’t see the look in his eye. It was menacing, threatened all sorts without having to say the words.” Dorling shrugged. “It made no difference to me. If he wanted to look at a sprog made from my sperm every day of his miserable life, then why should I be bothered?”

“What man in his right mind would seek out such a transaction from a man he hated?” she queried, trying to work out the logistics in her head. “Maybe he seized the opportunity for payback as well as using your sperm for procreation.”

“Sounds a right nutter to me, boss,” Jack offered.

“A nutter who must have truly worked out his audacious plan years ago, to exact revenge on the man who stole the love of his life from him.”

“That sounds crazy,” the warden chipped in.

“You’d be surprised what tales we hear of people working through their desperation,” she explained to Warden Mountford before turning her attention to the man in the bed. “Tell me, Dorling, have you had any contact with him since that day?”

“No, nothing.” He pointed at the sketch lying on the bed in his lap. “That’s the first I’ve seen of him in years. Are you going to pick him up?”

“I don’t suppose you have an address for him? Never mind, we should be able to track that down easily enough.”

“Yeah, if he’s still using the same name.”

Sally inclined her head. “Hmm… well, there’s every reason why he shouldn’t. Is there anything else you think we should know about the events back then?”

“Nope. Can’t think of anything.”

“Thank you for your time, Dorling. I will post a request for you to be exonerated of the crimes you were arrested for in the light of the information you have just shared with us.”

Dorling rubbed his hands together in glee. “Great. Does that mean I can get out of this shithole soon? No offence, warden.”

She nodded. “I’ll make sure that happens sooner rather than later.”

Sally and Jack rushed out of the prison gate and hopped in the car. “Well, that was unexpected,” Sally said.

“Yeah, but it hasn’t really got us anywhere. The odds are the guy has probably changed his name. How are we going to find him?”

“That’s where the general public come in, hopefully. Let’s not give up on him still using his own name just yet. Back to the station pronto, I think.” She thought about the tasks she’d set her team and realised she’d forgotten to send someone to Amanda’s place of work. “Change of plan. We’re close to the supermarket. I think we’ll drop in there first.”

“For what? We ain’t got time to do your personal shopping, boss. We have a murderer on the loose.” Jack laughed.

Sally shook her head, took one hand off the steering wheel, and bashed her partner in the thigh. “Idiot, the supermarket where Amanda works. We should interview the manager and the staff. See if anyone saw this man hanging around or if they know him, right?”

“Agreed.”

After parking the car, Sally and Jack walked in the entrance of the supermarket. They approached the young girl in the kiosk, flashed their IDs, and asked to speak to the manager. The girl put a call out on the Tannoy, and a few moments later, a rotund, short-legged man appeared beside them.

“Mr. Davis, the police are here to see you,” the girl behind the kiosk informed him.

Again, Sally and Jack produced their IDs. The man raised his glasses and studied their identification. He turned. “Walk this way to my office, if you will.”

Once in the office, he invited them to take a seat. “How can I help?”

Sally frowned. “You mean you have no idea why we’re here?”