Carson glanced towards the door and then back at Jane Roberts. ‘How long will it take?’

‘A couple of hours.’

Carson shook his head. ‘No, thank you, Doctor, we’ll keep on with our enquiries. Call me when you’ve come to your conclusion.’

Doctor Pratt nodded at Carson and then winked at Laura. ‘Thank you, Inspector.’

Carson looked at Laura, then at Joe, and then he headed for the door. When he realised that no one was following him, he turned around and bellowed, ‘Come on, we haven’t got all day.’

Joe smiled at Laura. ‘He’s getting queasy in his old age,’ he said, and then went to follow Carson.

Laura watched as Doctor Pratt pulled down his plastic visor and reached for a scalpel.

She turned away. Maybe Carson was right, that it was too early in the day to watch this.

Chapter Twenty

Jack went to the Blackley Telegraph office first. Dolby was in his room, a large cup of coffee in front of him.

‘I should have made you buy me this,’ Dolby said, chewing on a granola bar.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Because my idea worked,’ Dolby said. ‘The phone has been ringing all morning. It seems like your article about the police failing has touched a nerve. I’ve just had the press officer on the phone to me, asking why I’m attacking rather than helping.’

‘It must give you a glow,’ Jack said. ‘But, yeah, I owe you one, for keeping my name off it. Just make sure the cheque is paid to the right person.’

Dolby tossed the granola wrapper into the bin and lifted the lid off his coffee. ‘I don’t know why I buy this crap,’ he said, grimacing as he took a sip.

‘Because it makes you feel big to talk Italian when you buy a drink?’

He pointed and winked. ‘You’re on form today, but I know you’re not here to talk about my brunch. What can I do for you?’

‘Have we been asked by the police to hold anything back?’ Jack said. ‘Are you hearing any rumours?’

Dolby shook his head. ‘The police don’t speak to me anyway, and they always hold something back.’ Then he frowned. ‘Why do you ask? You’re the one with access. The sweet nothings drying up?’

Jack smiled. ‘Laura won’t talk about stuff like that, because she knows that you’ll print anything to sell a paper.’

‘Okay, let’s cut the sexual tension in here,’ Dolby said, his hands held up in mock surrender. ‘What have you got?’

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out the emails. ‘I’ve been getting these.’

Dolby took them and began to read, and Jack knew he had his attention when the polystyrene cup went onto the desk. Dolby looked up. ‘Who are these from?’

‘I don’t know. They came last night, and then more this morning.’

Dolby’s mouth opened as if to say something, but then closed it and sat back in his chair, tapping his lip with his finger. ‘It could just be bullshit, some crank wanting attention.’

‘Possibly,’ Jack said, nodding. ‘But there is another possibility.’

‘Go on.’

‘They could be from the killer.’

Dolby looked at Jack, and then back at the emails. ‘Murders attract attention-seekers.’

‘I know, but could you rule it out?’

Dolby handed them back to Jack. ‘I’m not going to run a story on them. If it is some crank, the publicity could backfire.’

‘I’m not asking you to run it yet.’

‘So what are you asking?’

‘I’m going to speak to Laura, and if there’s anything in it, see if they will give me exclusive access.’

‘Okay, talk to them and let’s see what we can do.’

‘Provided they will work with us,’ Jack said. ‘The poison piece you got me to write won’t make you popular.’

‘So go in as freelance. Just make sure you sell the scoop to me.’

‘It will mean that you’ll have to work with the police. Can you do that, Dolby?’

‘Jack, I will do anything that makes people buy this paper.’

‘I thought as much. I’ll get back to you,’ Jack said, and walked out of the office, emails in hand.

Chapter Twenty-One

Laura checked her notes, just to make sure that she had the right address. She needed some fresh air, to take away the mortuary smells that had locked into her nostrils, and so she headed out to speak to Adam Carter, Jane’s ex-boyfriend.

Adam’s house surprised her. Jane Roberts had been brought up by a crook, and Laura had expected her background to guide her lifestyle choices. But this was suburbia, middle class, plain and ordinary, with a driveway for two cars, an open-plan lawn, and a white garage front, which was probably filled with tools and rubbish, waiting for a tip-run rather than a car. There were mock shutters around the windows and the bricks looked new and clean.

The front door opened before Laura got there, and as Laura reached into her pocket for her identification card, the woman who answered the door said, ‘No need, we were wondering when you would call.’ She seemed almost too young to have a son old enough to be Jane’s boyfriend, with her hair flicked over her face and her figure trim in tight jeans and a T-shirt. She stood aside, and as Laura walked down the hall to the living room at the back of the house, the woman went to make a drink.

Laura didn’t sit down at first. Instead, she tried to read the family from the surroundings. The house was clean and well-furnished, with flowers on the window sill that framed the small garden outside, the space consumed by a conservatory. Laura caught a glimpse of the dining room, through an archway from the room she was in, and the formal place settings and another vase of flowers showed how the occupant wished to be viewed: on the way up.

As the woman came in with a cup of tea, Laura said, ‘Are you Adam’s mother?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Call me Tracy.’

Laura took the drink from her, and as Tracy sat down, gesturing for Laura to join her, Laura saw sadness behind the politeness; a redness around the eyes, the nervous way her finger scratched at her cup, the flicking of her hair.

‘Be gentle with Adam, he is really upset about all of this,’ Tracy said.

‘Why did they split up?’

‘He didn’t tell me,’ and then she gave a small laugh. ‘I’m his mother. I’ll be the last one he’ll tell.’

‘I’ve got a little boy,’ Laura said. ‘Is that how it ends up?’

‘How old?’

‘Eight.’

‘Enjoy it,’ she said. ‘You’ll find it hard when another woman becomes more important, and the only thing you know about your son is that he won’t tell you anything.’ Then she seemed to remember who she was talking to. ‘That isn’t to say that he has done anything wrong. I mean, there’s nothing sinister or anything.’

Laura didn’t react. People who had something to hide usually revealed more when they tried to fill the gaps.

‘Has Adam got a new girlfriend?’ Laura said.

Tracy shook her head and gave a sad smile. ‘It was only Jane,’ she said. ‘She brought trouble though. And I don’t mean Jane herself. She was a sweet thing, but her family caused trouble for her and for Adam.’ She sighed. ‘He’s a good-looking boy. It would be disrespectful to Jane right now, but he won’t be single for ever.’

Before Laura could ask anything else, there was the rumble of feet on the stairs and then a tall slim young man came into the room.

Laura saw that Tracy’s description wasn’t motherly blinkers, and the camera hadn’t lied. Adam was a good-looking young man. Just over six feet with tousled dark hair and soft brown eyes, Laura guessed that he wouldn’t get lonely once the mourning period ended. Laura stole a quick glance at his hands, to see whether they showed any signs of worry, bitten fingernails or skin, but there were none.

‘Are you the police?’ he asked.

Laura nodded.

He looked down at his mother. ‘You can leave us alone,’ he said to her.