‘Have you ever seen him?’

‘Not since they took him from me when he was born. I didn’t even get the chance to hold him. They told me to just forget about him, but how do you do that? He was my baby. I was nothing more than a child myself, but it didn’t make it hurt any less. You think you’re going to get better, but then things remind you and it comes at you like a train. His birthday. A baby in blue. That Hot Chocolate song. ‘So You Win Again’. It was number one when he was born, and all I could think of was my old school friends hanging out and listening to punk records, and there I was, having a baby, sixteen by then.’

‘Did Don Roberts or Mike Corley ever find out that there had been no abortion?’

Emma shook her head. ‘It was as if it had never happened. Manero’s changed its name. Mike left Blackley to go to college, and I didn’t see him again until he came back to join the police. And Don carried on working the doors.’

‘So no one knows, apart from your family, and his adopted family?’

‘And Simon, my friend,’ she said.

Simon again.

‘How did he take it?’

‘He seemed to be as upset as I was, but friends are like that, I suppose. They share your pain.’

Jack’s fingers tapped on his knee. He thought of what Emma had just said, and knew that Laura needed to know. It seemed more important than Dolby knowing, because when Jack thought of what had happened to Laura, and how it could have been worse, it seemed more than just a story.

‘I hated them for what they did to me,’ Emma said, interrupting his thoughts, ‘but I feel sorry for them now, and especially the girls.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Think about it,’ Emma said. ‘I don’t know which of them was the father of my child, but one of them was, and so one of those poor dead girls was my son’s sister, if you think about it, and so they were sort of connected to me.’

‘What is Simon like?’

‘Oh, he’s kind and thoughtful.’

‘No, what does he look like?’ The question came out too forcefully, and Jack thought Emma looked scared for a moment, but she recovered as she thought about him, her eyes to the ceiling, her head cocked to one side.

‘He’s tall and slim.’ she said. ‘In his thirties. He’s got a nice smile.’

‘What do you mean, nice?’

‘Well, he smiles with his eyes, and sort of cocks his head to one side.’

Like you, Jack thought. He thanked Emma for her time and said goodbye. He had a call to make. But he had somewhere to go first.

Chapter Fifty-Four

As Laura and Joe approached David Hoyle’s home, Laura shook away the stab of envy she felt every time she saw where defence lawyers lived, because it always seemed like they reaped the rewards while people like her did all the dangerous work. Yet deep down, despite the long hours and hard graft, she was proud of her job. She wondered if David Hoyle felt the same about his.

As she climbed out of the car, she looked at the house, three small almshouses converted into one, with views towards the hills that separated the Lancashire cotton belt from the more cosmopolitan sprawl of Greater Manchester. Stone steps led to a solid wooden door, although it looked like the knocks and dents in the wood were affectations, trying to reclaim the age of the house. She banged hard on the door. It was a while before anyone answered, but then she heard the rattle of a key and a face peered through the door, from behind a small chain.

‘We’re the police,’ Laura said. ‘It’s about your intruder from last night.’

There were some nervous blinks, and then, ‘Do you have identification?’

Laura lifted the police identification. Joe did the same.

There was another pause, but then the door closed and there was a small rattle as the chain was removed. When the door opened, there was a slender woman standing there, barefoot but in tight leggings and a long cream jumper. Her hair was luxurious and dark, falling over her shoulders. Her face was pale and drawn though, as if she hadn’t slept.

‘Is it Angel?’ Laura asked.

The woman nodded.

Laura and Joe exchanged quick glances and then said, ‘We need to talk about last night.’

There was a pause, and then, ‘I’ve got nothing to say.’

‘We know about the man who came to your house last night,’ Laura said. She noticed Angel’s eyes flicker nervously and her hand take a firmer grip on the door.

‘David said it was a client, some kind of revenge, because a case had gone wrong,’ Angel said.

Laura shook her head slowly. ‘He has killed people.’ Angel’s eyes grew wide. ‘If we don’t catch him, he will kill someone else. You can help stop that.’

Angel paused, with her hand on the door, before she let go and the door swung open.

She led them into a spacious living room with views over the lawn at the back, her bare feet padding quietly across the hardwood floor, in contrast to the loud clicks of Laura’s heels. Set in front of the window was an easel, a large piece of paper on it, washed-out watercolours visible. As they followed her, Laura asked, ‘Is Angel your real name?’

‘It used to be Angela,’ she said over her shoulder. ‘My publisher thought Angel was more marketable.’ Angel caught Laura looking and said, ‘I illustrate children’s books. That’s why I like it here, because the light is so fantastic. The window is west-facing, and so is in the shade for a lot of the day, dark and brooding, but all the time the fields and hills are painted by brilliant sunshine or the mood of the clouds. When I get the light later on, it catches the dust and the pollen, like fairies dancing.’ Angel looked down, embarrassed. ‘Listen to me, going on about sunlight when people are dying.’

Laura smiled politely and waited for Angel to continue.

‘So who has he killed, this person?’ Angel said. ‘And how do you know it was the same person who came here last night?’

‘I can’t tell you how we know, but you are an important witness. You can help save lives.’

Angel nodded weakly, her face pale. ‘Tell me about him.’

And so Laura did. She saw Angel’s eyes widen when she mentioned Jane Roberts.

‘Did you know her?’ Laura asked.

Angel shook her head. ‘David has mentioned Don, her father, and he told me that his daughter had been murdered.’

‘What did he say?’

‘I shouldn’t say,’ she said. ‘David was probably revealing confidences, and if he told me things, then they should stay with me.’

Laura didn’t push it, because she knew that she and Jack had a similar arrangement, that she was allowed to come home and moan and gripe, knowing that it wouldn’t be repeated outside their home. She had to keep back the really sensitive stuff though, but everything else was legitimate pillow talk.

Joe sat down on the sofa on the other side of the room, and Laura could tell that he was leaving it up to her, that there was a woman-to-woman rapport going on that he didn’t want to spoil.

‘So tell me about last night,’ Laura said.

Angel rubbed her eyes as if mentally preparing to bring back the sequence of events. ‘David had gone out, to speak with a client,’ Angel said, a slight quiver to her voice.

‘A client?’

‘I didn’t ask him for details, because he often sees clients in their home. That’s the problem with living with a defence lawyer – it feels like your life is always on call, your plans wrecked by some idiot who has got himself locked up. Anyway, so he went out.’

‘He went to Don’s house,’ Laura said.

Angel shrugged. ‘Like I said, a client.’

‘David was out, you were alone, and I reckon your intruder must have known that.’

Angel looked thoughtful at that.

‘I didn’t hear him come in,’ she said eventually. ‘I’d finished drawing. I was in the spare bedroom, where we have the computer. I was on the webcam, talking to a friend. She lives in France and we keep in touch that way. My friend spotted him, not me. She said that there was someone there, and when I looked round, there he was.’