Making his way to his own desk, he passed Anik wearing an Armani suit with a crisp white shirt and tie and looking very pleased with himself. In contrast, Jack still had some of Hannah’s breakfast splattered on his jacket and his shirt was very crumpled, with a tie that had already dangled in his coffee mug. But at least he had shaved. He felt loath to bite into his bagel as everyone appeared to be poised and waiting. As if on cue, the door to the incident room opened and Sara put her head in.

  ‘We have Amanda Dunn’s mother in interview room one with one of the WPCs. She has asked for a coffee. Can someone organise that from the canteen as I have to be out in the yard?’

  Leon stood up and hurried out after Sara. Then Hendricks appeared, to let them know that Amanda Dunn’s brief had arrived and was waiting in reception. Anik got up, straightening his tie, saying that he would go and talk to him. He picked up a thick folder of files as he walked out. Laura came in carrying a coffee and said they had received confirmation that Amanda Dunn was arriving via the back entrance. She asked that the officers assigned to meet her be ready to usher her into the interview room with her brief after she had been booked in with the custody officer.

  ‘She has a social worker with her and hasn’t been told that her mother’s here. I presume she’ll be joining her in the interview room.’

  Jack looked on with some amusement and decided he might as well tuck into his bagel. At that moment DCI Clarke opened his office door and came out carrying a clipboard.

  ‘Right, can I have everyone’s attention please. Before we begin to question Amanda Dunn, have we received confirmation that Miss Margaret Langton is available to attend as the appropriate adult?’

  There were glances around the room before Laura put up her hand. She stood up beside her desk and DCI Clarke nodded at her.

  ‘Miss Langton is six months pregnant and not currently fit to attend.’

  DCI Clarke gave a tight-lipped nod and closed his eyes.

  ‘Didn’t anyone check this out? Let’s hope Mrs Dunn will be acceptable as a supervising adult; if not, get someone else on standby. We should be ready to begin the session in fifteen minutes. I have allowed her solicitor to have a private consultation pre-interview.’

  He walked back into his office and Jack quickly finished his bagel, screwing up the napkin and tossing it into the waste bin. Laura looked over to him and raised her eyebrows. Like Jack, she felt the whole situation was being over-orchestrated. Everyone was waiting for the arrival of their prized witness, who alternatively could end up being charged as an accessory to murder. There was no window in the incident room to see into the yard, so everyone just waited patiently for information.

  DCI Clarke appeared again, saying that Amanda Dunn was now here and would be taken into Interview Room Two to confer with her brief and Anik. He then asked everyone listed on the board to be present in the viewing room, to go directly there and to wait for the interview to begin.

  Jack, coffee in hand, sauntered across to the board. It had now been extended so many times that it was covering most of one wall. There was a list of the officers required to be in the viewing room and he noticed that he was at the top of the list, along with Laura, two other officers, and Glenda Bagshot.

  Jack knew from past experience that it would take some time before everyone would be ready for the interview to commence. He left the incident room and headed along the corridor and down a flight of stairs, heading towards the interview room. He passed one of the smaller interview rooms, and through the window in the door he could see a small, bleach-blonde woman sitting with a mug of coffee. She was wearing a very loud plaid coat with a wide collar, and knee-high leather boots, and was clutching a bulging leather handbag. There was something about her over made-up face that gave her the appearance of being beaten in some way.

  Laura caught Jack looking through the window.

  ‘That’s her mother. Sara is trying to sort out her return ticket to Liverpool, and to get some petty cash for a meal for her.’

  ‘Yeah, I thought she must be the mother. What’s going on with Anik and our star witness’s brief?’

  ‘Well, he has to be given a certain amount of disclosure, but we haven’t yet charged her and at the moment she is just “helping police enquiries”, so I don’t know how long it’s going to take. He’s very good looking, though, a young Indian man. He must be worth his weight, as he’s a pet boy of that Georgina Bamford. He was wearing a very expensive long cashmere overcoat, and gorgeous . . .’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Laura! Where’s Amanda?’

  ‘They took her into the private interview room first, then when the cashmere coat is ready, she’ll have a meeting with him before it all goes down.’

  ‘Terrific, I’m glad you dragged me in here. I could have had a few hours extra kip.’

  Laura walked off as Jack continued along the corridor, heading down the staircase to the lower ground floor where the new high-tech viewing room was located. He went into the ‘spectator’ section and found Glenda Bagshot overseeing a trolley with an array of takeaway cartons.

  ‘Miss Bagshot, I have to say you are fast becoming everyone’s favourite person. I presume this is down to you . . . It looks like a feast.’

  ‘Listen, Sergeant Warr, I have been in this business a very long time and I know just how important it is to feed the workers. But don’t think I’m a walking charity; I make them pay for all this. Clarke tried to tell me it wasn’t ethical, so I told him to stuff it. Help yourself because it’s going to be a long night.’

  ‘Night? Bloody hell, Glenda, it’s only three o’clock in the afternoon.’

  ‘We might all be running around the clock to keep to a bloody timetable, but this is a very big investigation, on a par with Fred West. And it’s even more newsworthy because we have two young kid killers. God only knows how the press will handle it when some of the facts get out. I have nothing against the DCI but it’s his first major murder investigation and in my opinion, he’s out of his depth. I heard the commander was here so that must have put a rocket under him.’

  Sara knocked and entered, looking flustered. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m not sure who I should talk to about organising Mrs Dunn’s travel arrangements? Also, she’s asked for something to eat as she got the early train from Liverpool, and the buffet on the train wasn’t open.’

  ‘Sorry, I’m not following? If she got here, we must have arranged a return ticket, so what’s the problem?’ Jack asked.

  ‘They arranged a single. It wasn’t down to me; it was Hendricks. Everyone keeps on directing me to someone else. Do I put her in a taxi?’

  Jack shook his head in disbelief. ‘Has she had a meeting with her daughter?’

  ‘No, Amanda has refused to see her. She said, and I quote, “I wouldn’t see her if she was in spitting distance.” We tried, but she was adamant that she didn’t want to even speak to her, let alone see her. So now I have to send her back to Liverpool. The canteen isn’t open for another ten minutes and they won’t let me have so much as a sandwich.’

  Jack picked up a paper plate. ‘Go and talk to the clerical staff that handle the kitty and organise a taxi to take her to the station and a return fare to Liverpool. In the meantime, if you don’t mind Glenda, I will take a selection of these goodies and give them to Mrs Dunn myself.’

  ‘Thank you, sarge, I’ll go and sort the transport,’ Sara said gratefully. ‘Mrs Dunn is downstairs in one of the lower ground floor interview rooms.’

  ‘I know, I saw her when I was coming up here.’

  Sara hurried out as Jack piled a paper plate with sausage rolls, some chicken and ham sandwiches and a small container of what looked like curry. Glenda watched him, then handed him a spoon and fork and some paper napkins.

  ‘Well, that should keep her going, and she can take some back on the train. Typical isn’t it; they organise a single ticket!’

  Jack headed back towards the interview room. He knocked and entered.

  ‘Mrs Dunn, I do apologise for you being left in here on your own. I understand the buffet on the train wasn’t open so I hope this will suffice. He placed the food selection down in front of her on the table and took the cutlery out of his pocket, along with the paper napkins.

  ‘She bloody refused to see me!’ she said in a strong Liverpool accent. ‘Can you believe it? After me coming all this way, but I suppose I expected it in some ways. I’ve not seen her for four or five years, and there’s been no contact or nothing. Believe you me, I’ve tried. I used to call the missing persons place every other day asking if they had found her.’

  Mrs Dunn peered at the contents of the plastic container. ‘Is this a curry with noodles?’

  ‘I believe so, and there’s some fresh sandwiches with chicken and ham.’

  He watched as she jabbed at the noodles with the plastic fork and took a mouthful. She chewed and swallowed, then nodded. ‘Very nice.’

  ‘Did your husband accompany you?’

  ‘No, he’s her stepfather . . . and to be honest, he’s had enough of her. I have been worried all this time . . . and like I said, I kept on calling the Social Services and the missing persons, but eventually I gave up. She’s done it before you know.’

  Jack waited as she forked in two more mouthfuls of the spicy noodles, then wiped her mouth with the napkin.

  ‘Running away, you mean?’

  ‘Yes, when she was about ten. Disappeared for three weeks. We found her with one of her friends after searching the streets, as well as contacting the police. She made horrible accusations against my husband, all lies; she was a terrible liar. She was always skiving off school; the number of times I had the school calling me to say that she hadn’t turned up.’

  ‘These accusations against your husband, were they of a sexual nature?’

  She nodded. ‘We had the Social Services round to question me and him, and we had two little ones as well. It was all lies, and they said they wanted her assessed by a therapist because they reckoned she was suffering from . . .’ She frowned chewing at her bottom lip. Jack waited whilst she bit into a sausage roll.

  ‘Suffering from what?’

  ‘Asperkers, that’s what it was.’

  ‘I think you mean Asperger’s? What did they suggest you should do about it?’

  ‘She was supposed to go to a therapist and have some extra tuition at school. But she never turned up and then the school would report her not being in class. It was just non-stop with her. She was nothing but trouble. I would always try to stick up for her, but you can only make excuses for someone for so long.’

  ‘She was only twelve years old though.’

  ‘I know how old she was,’ she said indignantly. ‘And before you say anything, you don’t have to remind me how long she’s been away from me. I’m her mother, and I got two younger kids to look after. I’m very protective about them, even more so when she was at home because of what happened to Sharon.’

  ‘Sharon?’

  ‘She was Amanda’s younger sister, by my first husband. We divorced after it happened; he couldn’t deal with it. Mind you, he couldn’t deal with much, and with him being in the Navy he was never around. He was at home when it happened, though, and from then on it was always difficult. He was a bad drinker.’

  ‘What happened?’

  Mrs Dunn wiped her mouth with a paper napkin, then crumpled it in her hand.

  ‘Amanda was jealous of her, I know that. She was such a pretty little thing. When he was home, he would bring such lovely presents for them, and I suppose it was Sharon he showed more affection to. She was a little angel compared to Amanda.’

  Jack waited, aware that she was finally showing some emotion. She used the crumpled napkin to wipe her mouth again then began to twist it in her hands as tears fell down her cheeks. He reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away from him.

  ‘It’s hard for me to talk about it, even now. She was only four and half and Amanda was seven. My husband and I went out to the pub for a drink and Amanda was babysitting. We didn’t often leave them on their own, but like I said, he was in the Navy and not home that much. I didn’t usually leave them on their own because I’d caught her slapping Sharon a couple of times. She had a nasty, mean streak in her and she would take the presents he bought for Sharon and destroy them.’

  Her eyes continued to brim over with tears, as she pulled at the paper napkins, tearing off small strips.

  ‘We got home at about ten, and Amanda was watching TV. When we went upstairs, we found Sharon with the cord from the window blind around her neck. She was still using a cot, you know with sides, and it looked as if she had tried to climb out, got caught up in the cord and choked to death.’

  Jack was deeply shocked. Mrs Dunn’s tears ran down her cheeks and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. Her face was distorted with anguish and anger.

  ‘It was an accidental death, but one thing always bothered me, the sides of the cot was down, so she could have easily got out. Why did she reach up for the cord? Why?’

  ‘Did you think that Amanda was to blame?’

  Mrs Dunn became more composed and reached down next to her chair for her handbag. She placed it on her knee and took out a compact and lipstick. Jack watched as she looked at herself in the compact mirror, took out a worn powder puff and dabbed it over her face. She then opened the lipstick and applied it thickly over her top and bottom lips before rubbing them together. Jack remained silent, and eventually she continued.

  ‘We got divorced and a few years later I re-married and we changed our names. Whatever I thought, I never told no one. After it happened things was never the same between me and Amanda. I never accused her – but it was like always between us – then I got pregnant again, and it put me on edge, especially after having the baby. I was always watching out for her doing something, and that’s when she started running away. It sometimes felt a relief not having her home, to be honest, because I could never forget what happened to Sharon. We redecorated her room, moved the cot away from the window, but every so often when I went to check on the little ones, I’d see it again. See my lovely little girl, like a broken doll, just hanging.’

  Jack watched as she carefully wrapped the uneaten sandwiches in a spare paper napkin and put them in her handbag.

  ‘I am deeply sorry for your loss, Mrs Dunn, and thank you for coming into the station. I’m sorry that Amanda is refusing to see you. If you’d like, I could talk to her again and see if she changes her mind.’

  ‘No, don’t bother, I expected as much. She’s eighteen now and at least I know she’s alive. Unlike my little Sharon, who never grows old . . . she’s always as beautiful, always four and half years old.’

  Sara tapped on the door and entered. She explained that she had ordered a taxi and had booked a train ticket for Mrs Dunn, apologising for making her wait.

  ‘That’s alright, love, this nice young man’s been talking with me. He brought me some food, so I’m ready to go home.’

  Sara looked at Jack gratefully, as she ushered Mrs Dunn out.

  He sat for a moment, digesting everything he had just been told. It both shocked and saddened him and it gave him a different insight into Amanda’s personality. Could she have been responsible for her young sister’s death? He considered the fire at Middleton’s home, and the death of Rodney’s two sisters. Could their similar losses have been some kind of bond between them? Jack was becoming more and more certain that Amanda was not the innocent girl she claimed to be.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Jack entered the viewing room, surprised that Amanda was still not being questioned. Laura was sitting with a plate of sandwiches and asked him how it had gone with Mrs Dunn. Jack shrugged and said that it was quite informative, but didn’t elaborate. Instead, he helped himself to the curry and some items from the salad bar. Glenda was sitting reading the Evening Standard, moaning about the length of time she had been waiting for the ‘show’ to start. Just then the lights came on in the viewing room as Anik entered, carrying a thick folder of files. He was followed by Amanda, who looked like a different person. Her usually lank, greasy hair was shining and full. She was wearing a fashionable denim jumpsuit and had applied makeup and lipstick.

  ‘My God! She brushes up well,’ Jack said as they all looked intently through the large two-way screen. Raj Bukhari was last to enter. He was no longer in his cashmere overcoat but was wearing a very fashionable suit with a white shirt and maroon tie. He carried a folder and sat beside Amanda. Next to enter was a matronly-looking woman, presumably from Social Services. Last to walk in, also with a large folder, was DCI Clarke who sat down beside Anik.

  Anik kicked off by explaining that the interview would be both filmed and recorded. He switched on the machine and introduced himself. DCI Clarke gave his own name and rank and the matronly lady said that she was Mrs Hardcastle, acting as the appropriate adult. Raj turned to Amanda who gave her name and then he introduced himself as Raj Bukhari, acting as legal representative for Miss Dunn.

  Anik explained that they wanted to question Miss Dunn regarding the disappearance and possible murders of Nadine O’Reilly, Trudie Hudson and Jamail Brown, saying they believed Amanda might be able to assist the investigation. He then cautioned her.

  ‘You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

  Amanda sat upright in her chair, appearing not to listen, looking at her false pale-pink nails. She was pressing down on them, as if to keep them in place.

  Anik opened his bulging file.

  ‘Amanda, could you please tell us how long you have lived in the basement flat in Leighton Avenue that is leased to Rodney Middleton?’