The room itself was empty but a window ran almost the entire width of one wall and on the other side of it was Jamie Barham. Mariner immediately sensed Anna’s unease. Wearing only underpants and a single sock, Jamie paced restlessly around the perimeter of the room, stopping now and then at some random spot to spread the fingers of both his hands on the wall, laying his cheek in between, as if listening for something on the other side. His matted and spiky hair gave him a wild, agitated appearance that was compounded by the deep graze on his forehead, which had streaked blood down one side of his face and onto his pale wiry body. Here and there, terracotta-coloured prints adorned the stark white walls of the room — decorative stencilling gone grotesquely wrong. But even in that condition Jamie Barham was strikingly handsome, with the sort of intense good looks that stared insolently from monochrome aftershave ads.

  ‘So if he’s autistic,’ Knox broke the silence. ‘Does that mean he’s really a genius? Like Rain Man?’

  Anna scoffed. ‘You can forget the toothpick trick. Jamie’s no mathematical genius. He’s what they poetically call “low functioning.” On top of the autism, he has learning disabilities too. Unless Eddie’s worked miracles, he can’t even dress himself without considerable help.’

  Knox nodded towards a pile of linen in the corner. ‘We gave him those, but he wouldn’t put them on.’

  ‘Where are his clothes?’

  ‘They had blood on them, they’re being analysed.’ Mariner told her.

  She hesitated. ‘Eddie’s blood?’

  ‘Some of it was mine, but apart from that we don’t know yet.’

  ‘So what happens now?’

  ‘We would like to talk to Jamie. It’s just an informal chat, but he has the right to legal representation—’

  They seemed to be doing a good job of keeping her amused. This time she laughed out loud. ‘I hardly think that will be necessary. What you’ll need is some kind of incentive just to get him to sit down and take notice of you.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘I’ve no idea. I don’t know what he’s into now. It always used to be Monster Munch: pickled onion flavour.’

  ‘Hula Hoops,’ said Knox.

  ‘What?’

  ‘At the flat,’ the constable reminded him. ‘There were Hula Hoops all over the floor, remember? Perhaps his taste has improved.’

  ‘That sounds the right kind of thing,’ Anna agreed.

  ‘I’ll see if they’ve got some in the canteen,’ Knox left them alone.

  ‘Can I get him dressed first?’ asked Anna.

  ‘Of course.’ Mariner stood and watched from behind the two-way mirror as Anna Barham entered the room with her brother. The intercom was switched off, so the scene ran before him like a silent movie being played in slow motion and was one of the most bizarre encounters between human siblings that Mariner had ever witnessed.

  CHAPTER 5

  Closing the door behind her, Anna’s lips moved in a soundless greeting. Jamie ceased pacing momentarily and turned towards her with a wary sideways look. Anna walked slowly to the other side of the room to retrieve the clothes. Picking out a T-shirt, she held it out towards her brother and began to gradually advance towards him, her lips moving all the while, in what Mariner imagined was some kind of soothing encouragement. Jamie visibly tensed, bringing his hands up parallel with his ears and flapping his fingers in agitation. Anna stopped momentarily and waited. Eventually he brought his hands down again to pluck at his crotch like a nervous toddler. Anna resumed her approach and as soon as she was near enough, slipped the T-shirt over his head, guiding his arms up into the sleeves in one swift, fluid action. She repeated the whole process with the other items of clothing; trousers, shirt, socks and shoes, the second shoe going on just as Knox returned from his quest.

  ‘Look at that,’ breathed Mariner. ‘It’s like dressing a kid.’ As he spoke Anna turned to the mirror, giving the thumbs-up signal for them to join her.

  Mariner and Knox came into the interview room, Mariner with some caution, the memory of his last face-to-face encounter with Jamie Barham still fresh in his mind. His fears were unfounded — Jamie had other more pressing concerns. With the speed and accuracy of an Exocet, he homed in on the crisp packet, hovering over Knox while he and Mariner seated themselves at the table.

  Mariner slipped a tape into the recording machine. ‘Even though this isn’t a formal interview, it might be helpful,’ he explained to Anna. For the benefit of the tape he set the scene — date, time, persons present — before turning back to her across the table. ‘Off we go.’

  ‘Okay. As I told you, he won’t understand much of what you say to him,’ she said. ‘You’ll need to keep your language very simple. Short questions, using just the key words. And say his name first each time to get his attention.’ Taking the Hula Hoops packet from Knox, she held it up, deliberately scrunching the wrapper, dangling the proverbial carrot.

  Jamie made a grab for it but missed. ‘Loops. Want a loops!’ he said.

  ‘Jamie, sit down,’ Anna patted the fourth chair beside her and Jamie obediently sat without taking his eyes off the crisps.

  ‘Good,’ said Anna. ‘Good sitting.’ She rewarded him with a single Hula Hoop which Jamie held up to the light turning it round in his fingers, before putting it in his mouth then holding out his hand immediately for another. With years of experience, Mariner considered himself to be up to the mark with most interviewing techniques but this one was something else. Anna gave him the nod.

  ‘Jamie,’ he began. Jamie glanced briefly in his direction as if newly aware that there was someone else present. ‘What happened last night, at your house?’

  No response. Jamie’s attention had reverted to the Hula Hoops. Seizing Anna’s free hand, he pushed it towards the packet. Anna pulled away. ‘Not yet, Jamie,’ she said, then sotto voce to Mariner, ‘Try “at home.”’

  Mariner cleared his throat. ‘Jamie, what happened last night at home?’

  This time the response was instant. ‘Home! Home now!’ Jamie shouted and jumped up grabbing Anna’s arm, dragging her off the chair and towards the door.

  Anna wrenched herself free. ‘No, Jamie, not now. Look, Hula Hoops,’ she held up the packet and regaining his attention led him back to the table.

  ‘Loops,’ Jamie echoed, reaching out for another.

  As he sat down Anna gave him another of the snacks. ‘Yes. Jamie sit down, that’s good sitting,’ she looked over at Mariner. ‘Try something different,’ she suggested.

  ‘Jamie, what happened to Eddie?’ Mariner said.

  ‘. . . Eddie,’ the word echoed back at him.

  ‘That’s right,’ said Mariner, encouraged. ‘What happened, Jamie? What happened to Eddie last night, what did he do?’

  ‘Eddie,’ Jamie repeated once more and then, as if in sudden realisation, he leapt up tipping back the chair with a crash and began to restlessly pace the room.

  ‘You’ve said too much,’ said Anna. ‘It’s confusing him.’ Jamie came to a halt, resting his face against the wall, murmuring to himself.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ asked Knox. They listened.

  ‘Sounds like “Sally-Ann,”’ said Mariner. For a split second, Jamie glared at him, angrily.

  ‘No Sally-Ann! No Sally-Ann!’ he shouted.

  ‘Sally-Ann who? Who’s she?’

  Anna pulled a face. ‘I don’t know.’

  They listened again as Jamie’s chanting grew in intensity. Then suddenly, without warning, Jamie began banging his forehead against the wall, in time with the chanting, over and over and with increasing force. Anna and Knox, who were nearest, jumped up and managed between them to drag him away, Knox firmly gripping Jamie by the shoulders to restrain him.

  ‘Jamie, stop!’ said Anna. ‘It’s all right, there’s no Sally-Ann. Stop!’ Slowly Jamie ceased struggling against Knox and calmed down.

  Anna turned to Mariner. ‘I told you, it’s a waste of time. He doesn’t understand abstracts. He’s only interested in here and now. Concrete things. Things that are important to him, like Hula Hoops.’

  ‘How about if we took him back to the house?’ Mariner asked.

  Anna sighed, wearily. ‘I suppose it might be worth a try.’

  ‘Get a car organised, will you, Tony?’

  * * *

  In the light of day, 34 Clarendon Avenue looked like any other house in the street, with nothing except the narrow strip of crime-scene tape to mark it out as different. And even that didn’t look entirely out of place alongside what resembled a small building site in the garden next-door, half of it covered by a brand-new expanse of block paving.

  On the approach to the house, Jamie had become manifestly more unsettled, flicking his fingers by his ears, his eyes panning anxiously from one side to another. Once Knox had pulled into the drive, the two officers stood back while Anna attempted to coax her brother out of the car.

  But before they’d even unlocked the front door, with a sudden shout of ‘No black mouth!’ Jamie took off running down the street.

  Knox was off like a shot, too, but it was Mariner who got there first, catching up with Jamie, grabbing him and propelling him, struggling, back to the car. ‘What does he mean, “black mouth?”’ Mariner asked Anna, trying not to let his breathlessness show.

  ‘I don’t know. I’m as much in the dark—’ she stopped. ‘Wait. You said he was shut in the cupboard? Maybe he thinks we’re going to shut him in the “black mouth” of the cupboard again. We’ve brought him back here too soon. This is too frightening for him.’

  ‘Terrific.’ So it was going to be like that. Another avenue barred, though not entirely. As they prepared to leave, the front door of the adjacent house opened and a woman emerged, carrying a small fluffy canine. She stepped delicately around the piles of sand and bricks.

  Seeing an opportunity, Mariner jumped back out of the car and, introducing himself, thrust his ID towards the woman, over the low hedge. She squinted at it, before looking over Mariner’s shoulder towards the unmarked police car. ‘Have you got Jamie in there? I thought I heard him.’

  ‘And you are . . . ?’

  ‘Moira Warren.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘I can’t believe that such a dreadful thing has happened to poor Eddie. He was wonderful with Jamie.’

  News travelled fast, but only apparently one way. Mariner had already been told that so far the house-to-house had turned up no worthwhile information. Nobody had seen or heard anything the previous night. It hadn’t helped that there had been some kind of social gathering down the street early on, which meant that cars had been coming and going for most of the evening. Anything happening at number thirty-four would have just blended into the activity.

  ‘And you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary yesterday?’ he asked the old lady.

  ‘No. I’ve had the workmen here all over the weekend, working on the drive. This job should have been finished in three days, but you know what it’s like. They start something and then there’s a problem. Five days it’s been going on and it’s still—’

  ‘Did you know Eddie and Jamie Barham well?’ Mariner cut in.

  ‘Not really, no. We only moved in two years ago, this February gone, and we hardly ever saw them. I know the last people used to help out with Jamie, sitting with him sometimes. I did try once, but—’

  ‘But?’

  Her tone became defensive. Conscience kicking in. ‘It was difficult, officer. Jamie’s a grown man. He’s strong and I’m not getting any younger. My husband said I shouldn’t do it. I already told all this to the young policeman who came to see me.’

  ‘So you haven’t helped out recently?’

  ‘No. But I don’t think Eddie needed anyone lately because of the girl.’

  ‘What girl?’

  ‘I thought she must be Eddie’s girlfriend. I never actually asked. You don’t like to be nosy, do you?’ That took a stretch of the imagination. ‘We were just pleased to see that Eddie had a young lady. He must have missed out on so much because of, well, you know.’ With a glance in Jamie’s direction she lowered her voice, though not quite enough to prevent it carrying as far as the car. ‘To be honest I’m not surprised it all got too much for him,’ she intimated. ‘There’s a sister, you know. Haven’t seen hide nor hair of her since we’ve been here but she’s out there somewhere. You’d have thought that she might have—’

  ‘This girl. Was her name Sally, or Sally-Ann?’ Mariner interrupted again.

  ‘It might have been, we were never actually introduced.’

  ‘What did she look like?’

  ‘She was a pretty girl, tall, with lovely long dark hair. But a bit . . . you know.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Well, sort of cheap-looking. You know what these young girls can be like these days. Tiny little skirts that leave nothing to the imagination.’ Eddie and the brunette were sounding like more than just a one-off. And were she and Sally-Ann the same person?

  ‘Did you see this girl around last night?’ Mariner asked.

  ‘No.’ The micro-hound had begun to wriggle and whine in her arms. ‘I’ll have to go now, Oscar needs to do his business. But if I can be of any more help, officer—’

  After what he’d just heard, Mariner doubted that she could, but he nodded his thanks anyway. He went back to the car, mulling over the new information. ‘Could this Sally have been Eddie’s girlfriend?’ he asked Anna.

  ‘I didn’t even know that Eddie had a girlfriend,’ she replied, testily. ‘As you heard, I’ve never been near the place.’

  ‘Well, whoever she is, we need to find her.’

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘We’ll take you home.’

  ‘No!’

  Mariner was unprepared for the force of her response, but then, if he imagined a home as perfectly turned out as Anna herself, and the potential effect on it her brother might have, he could understand the reaction.

  ‘Jamie goes to a day centre on the other side of Harborne,’ she was saying. ‘I think I can direct you to it. If we take him there first, it will give me time to arrange things.’

  They drove in near silence as she issued hesitant instructions to Knox, which left Mariner wondering how sure she was about where they were going. ‘Eddie worked for the Echo, didn’t he?’ he said, firming up facts as they drove.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Doing what exactly?’

  She seemed relieved to be able for once to answer him. ‘He was a reporter,’ she said. ‘It meant he could work flexible hours and be around for Jamie.’

  ‘Do you know what sort of stuff he covered?’

  She was out of her depth again. ‘All sorts, from what I remember,’ she said, vaguely. ‘You’d need to talk to the paper.’

  It was on the list.

  Judging from Jamie’s reaction as they drew up outside a low, modern building, Anna’s memory of where he spent his days was accurate. He bounded in like an eager puppy, visibly relaxed and clearly at home. Knox waited in the car.

  ‘Greenwood Day Centre’ read the logo emblazoned on the chest of the middle-aged woman who emerged from an office to greet them in the foyer. ‘Joyce Clark. I’m the centre manager. Can I help you?’

  Mariner produced his warrant card yet again, which Joyce accepted as though visits from the police were an everyday occurrence. ‘We were wondering where Jamie had got to,’ she said. ‘Eddie’s usually good at letting us know if he’s going to be late. Has he been running away again?’ So perhaps they were.

  ‘It’s more serious than that,’ Mariner said, in an attempt to prepare her. ‘I’m afraid Eddie Barham is dead.’

  Joyce just gaped at them. ‘When? How?’ she ventured when she finally found her voice.

  ‘Late last night,’ said Mariner.

  ‘Oh my goodness, poor Eddie, poor Jamie. What on earth will happen to him? Where will he go?’

  Taking her cue, Anna put out a hand. ‘Hi, I’m Anna, Jamie’s sister,’ she said.

  ‘Oh.’ Joyce seemed startled. ‘I had no idea . . .’ That he had a sister? As the women shook hands, Mariner completed Joyce’s statement in his head. A pattern was beginning to develop.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’ Joyce was flustered now. ‘This is such a shock.’ She turned to Mariner. ‘You don’t know—?’

  ‘It’s early days,’ he said. ‘But anything you can tell us might be helpful. For instance, when did you last see Eddie?’

  ‘Well, as far as I remember, he came to collect Jamie from the centre on Friday afternoon as normal. Most of our clients travel on the centre transport, but for the last few weeks Eddie has been bringing Jamie in and fetching him himself.’

  ‘Why was that?’

  ‘I’m not really sure of the precise reason. I presumed that it fitted in more conveniently with Eddie’s working pattern. If he wasn’t home at the right time to receive Jamie—’

  ‘But I thought Jamie was going to Moorcroft for the weekends to give Eddie some respite?’ said Anna. ‘That’s where he should have been.’

  Joyce looked embarrassed. ‘Not any more. Eddie withdrew Jamie from the Moorcroft about two months ago.’

  ‘Oh.’ Anna reddened. So she really was that out of touch. ‘Why?’ she asked.

  ‘It was the medication, I think.’

  ‘Medication?’

  ‘They wanted to put Jamie on something to help his sleeping, but Eddie wasn’t keen. The next thing we knew, Jamie was back home at the weekends.’

  ‘How did Eddie seem on Friday?’ Mariner asked.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t speak to him myself. I only saw him briefly from a distance. You’d need to talk to Jamie’s key worker, Francine, although I’m afraid she’s tied up with supervising lunch at the moment. The last time I spoke to Eddie personally would have been a couple of weeks ago. We had been having some issues with Jamie’s behaviour, so he came in to discuss them.’

  ‘What sort of issues?’ Anna asked, warily.