‘Their bedroom was on the top floor. I never heard a scream or nothing, and by the time they got it under control and tried to get in, there was no hope.’

  ‘How was Rodney behaving?’

  ‘Crying, sobbing . . . they gave him some treatment in the ambulance. They brought the kids out as soon as they could, but you just knew the way they had the blankets wrapped around them . . . covering their heads . . . they were dead.’

  ‘When did Karen find out what had happened?’

  ‘Same night. Someone called her. She came in a taxi. She was screaming and then she collapsed. They took her into the ambulance. She saw Rodney and started kicking him and trying to beat him up. It was all just a terrible scene. She had wanted him to leave the house and that’s what we were rowing about. She’s not his mother. The bitch that was Rodney’s mum ran off, leaving me with him when he was just seven years old. I was told she went back to Jamaica, but I’ve not heard a word from her since. Karen brought Rodney up, and then we had the two girls.’

  ‘Is Rodney’s mother Jamaican?’

  ‘Yes. He found it tough as a kid being mixed race, and he got a lot of abuse at his school. But I always sorted it out for him. I taught him how to take care of himself, took him to a gym for boxing lessons. He was good, skinny but strong.’

  Jack took a moment to absorb everything Middleton had told him. He had only seen a blurry photograph of Rodney, so he had no idea about his background. There had been no emotion when Middleton had described the night of the fire, as if he had repeated the story many times. It left Jack with more questions than answers.

  Jack noticed the prison officer peering through the window in the door, so Jack thanked Middleton and gestured for the officer to take him back to his cell.

  *

  Jack drove from Wandsworth to Natalie Burrows’ clinic, not far from Shepherd’s Bush and Rodney Middleton’s basement flat. He wondered if Seymour had chosen it because of the location, hopeful that Rodney might be more likely to keep his appointments.

  The clinic was in a new build, hemmed in between two residential properties just off the high street. Once again Jack had trouble finding a parking space and drove around for a while until he found a single yellow line, then parked leaving his police vehicle logbook on the dashboard in full view.

  By the time he had walked to the clinic it was just before midday and he was relieved that he was going to be on time. There was just a small desk with a young girl sitting behind it, using a computer. The clinic looked as if it had been built in the sixties and was definitely in need of refurbishing.

  ‘Excuse me, I have an appointment to see Dr Natalie Burrows. I’m Detective Sergeant Jack Warr.’

  The receptionist continued typing before looking up. She then opened a large appointment diary and flicked through the pages. Jack waited patiently before she reached for the phone and pressed two numbers.

  ‘There is a Mr Warr here, for his twelve o’clock.’

  She replaced the receiver and pointed to a glass door, telling Jack to go up to the second floor where he would be met and taken through to see Dr Burrows.

  A threadbare ivy-green carpet ran up the stairs, turning into a brick red lino on the second floor. It looked very clean and there was a strong smell of disinfectant. The numerous closed doors all had name plates, and Jack stood looking around at the plethora of framed landscape reproductions. He could hear the murmur of voices before a door opened and a woman in a white coat appeared. He was surprised by how young Natalie Burrows was. She had shoulder-length silky hair and wide brown eyes, along with a rather prominent hooked nose.

  ‘Detective Warr?’

  Jack nodded and reached for his ID, but Burrows had already turned back to go through the door, gesturing for him to follow.

  The small waiting area was painted white and contained four hard-backed chairs and a stack of magazines on a spindle-legged coffee table. Burrows had left her office door open and Jack followed her in. She gestured for him to take a seat. Filing cabinets took up most of the space around the room, and her modern-looking desk had a laptop and phone with files stacked to one side.

  Burrows pulled out a comfortable desk chair and sat down, wheeling it close to her desk. Jack undid his jacket button and placed his briefcase down beside him.

  ‘You wanted to talk to me about Rodney Middleton? Obviously, you are aware of patient confidentiality. I am his reserve psychiatrist. By that I mean he was transferred from CAMHS to this clinic to be a patient of Dr Donaldson’s, who is currently on holiday. I’m listed as the reserve to see Rodney whilst Dr Donaldson is away, should it be required.’

  Burrows opened a file, glancing at the numerous documents before sitting back and folding her arms. She looked at a small watch on her slender wrist before she spoke.

  ‘I assume Angus Seymour suggested you came to see me. If I can answer any questions you have without breaching any confidentiality, then I will obviously do whatever I can to assist you.’

  Jack nodded. ‘Did Rodney Middleton come to the clinic for regression therapy?’

  ‘Yes, Dr Donaldson is very much an advocate of regression when it seems appropriate.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘If the patient seems to be repressing emotions, regression can be a very valuable means of discovering what may be deeply buried.’

  ‘Did Rodney Middleton benefit from this therapy?’

  She pursed her lips and glanced at the file. ‘I believe Dr Donaldson found the patient unwilling to participate. Also, according to his appointment book, Rodney persisted in missing his appointments. As we are an NHS clinic this is a huge waste of our over-stretched resources. We always have a lengthy waiting list, and we have to report lack of attendance to a client’s probation officers where it is appropriate.’

  ‘Was Rodney here via a probationary parole requirement?’

  ‘Yes, he was. The reason I’m able to tell you that is because it was some time ago, and I believe Dr Donaldson sent in his report, as did Dr Seymour.’

  ‘So, was he mentally ill?’

  Natalie began to slowly turn pages in the file in front of her, then frowned, turning back a few pages.

  ‘He was referred to Dr Seymour when he was seventeen, after a family tragedy. According to his GP he was suffering from depression and severe anxiety. He was prescribed medication, but it appears that this was not being taken, and he was therefore heading for a possible nervous breakdown. However, as you can see, this is quite an extensive file. Rodney Middleton was referred for further treatment a few years later, this time via a probation department.’

  Jack saw Burrows glance at her watch again. Judging by the thick file there was a lot more information than she was willing to divulge.

  ‘Was there any indication that Rodney was violent, or suffering from multiple personality disorder?’

  Burrows hesitated. ‘He was certainly angry and prone to aggressive behaviour. I found no suggestion of multiple personality disorder, though, having said that, it was reported that he did have an ability to quickly switch his moods from aggressive to charming. I suggest you might gain more information from the probationary department, as the details must be in his criminal records.’

  Jack nodded. ‘Was he ever sectioned?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge.’

  ‘Was there any reference to his over-familiarity with young girls?’

  Burrows pursed her lips and closed the file. When she pointedly looked at her watch again, Jack leaned forwards.

  ‘I am investigating a serious assault, Dr Burrows. I have discovered that Rodney kept a young twelve-year-old girl virtual prisoner for several years. He was also violent towards her, and his own father has told me that his wife was concerned that Rodney was “touchy-feely” towards his young half-sisters.’

  Burrows frowned. ‘Are you asking me if Rodney had paedophiliac traits? To my knowledge that has never been diagnosed, either by Dr Donaldson or Dr Seymour.’

  ‘What about your own interaction with him?’ Jack pressed.

  ‘I don’t think you quite understand my position, Detective Warr. I explained to you I am here as a reserve psychiatrist, to be available should Mr Middleton require an appointment when Dr Donaldson is absent. I have not had any direct interaction with Mr Middleton, but I am privy to his files in case I am required to have an appointment with him.’

  ‘So, you have read his past medical history?’

  ‘Yes, of course. And when you rang, I took the trouble to read over the files again.’

  Jack leaned back and reached down for his briefcase. Burrows immediately stood up, eager for him to leave. Instead, he placed the case on his knee, opened it, and took out two pages of notes that he had made the previous evening.

  ‘I am here to try and ascertain Rodney Middleton’s state of mind when he attacked a local shopkeeper and used a knife in a threatening manner, causing serious injuries. I am also aware that he beat up his girlfriend before the attack. But I have grave concerns that he may have committed even more serious crimes.’

  Jack waved the pages in front of Burrows before placing them back in his briefcase. Burrows chewed at her bottom lip, then sighed.

  ‘I am sorry not to be able to be more helpful. It is unethical of me to have even given you my personal opinion. We have to adhere to a strict code of confidentiality.’

  ‘But he’s not your patient,’ Jack snapped.

  She sat back and flipped open the file again, then wrote something down in her notebook before ripping off the page, folding it and handing it to Jack. She stood up.

  ‘These are the names of the probation officers, should you require more information.’

  Jack pocketed the note, knowing he could easily get the names from Middleton’s records. He thanked Burrows for her time and left.

  By the time Jack returned to the station it was after two o’clock, so he went up to the canteen to grab a sandwich and a coffee. The CID office was half empty, with just a few probationary officers sitting at their desks.

  ‘Where is everyone?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Board meeting with the DCI, for an update.’

  Jack sighed, knowing he would get a few harsh words from Clarke. He grabbed his notes and went over to join the probation officers. He asked them to get moving on bringing up all of Rodney Middleton’s previous records and to track down the fire teams who had handled the blaze at his family home, as well as the probationary records they had on file. He then asked a young female officer if she could contact mispers again in Liverpool, as they still had no confirmation regarding Amanda’s time away from home. He told her to go back five years to see if they had any other information on Amanda Dunn, or if there had been any reports of a black girl, possibly Jamaican, who also went missing around the same time.

  Jack picked up his coffee, logged on and typed in his report on his recent meetings, including the prison visit to Rodney Middleton’s father. He saw, in large letters on the screen, that all members of the team should be in the boardroom at 1.15 p.m. for a progress report.

  Jack wandered out and headed to the boardroom. He was just about to enter when the door opened and the team came out in dribs and drabs. He waited until Laura emerged and she immediately rolled her eyes at him.

  ‘You are really in for it; you were supposed to be back here by mid-morning, and no one seemed to know where you were. I covered for you and said I knew you were going to Wandsworth Prison, but . . .’

  She stopped as DCI Clarke appeared behind her.

  ‘DS Warr. A few words. Now.’

  Jack followed him back into the boardroom and closed the door. ‘Sorry to have missed the meeting . . . I got held up at the prison, then had the appointment with Middleton’s psychiatrist. I did make a note of my whereabouts and will make out my detailed report straightaway.’

  Clarke frowned. ‘You seem to be conducting your own investigation, DS Warr. You were allocated to oversee the forthcoming trial which, until my arrival, had simply been an arrest with the suspect pleading guilty at the magistrates’ court. So why – after my discussion with you yesterday – are you giving priority to these meetings?’

  ‘I just felt we had not got enough on Middleton’s psychiatric background. On a previous occasion he has committed a similar offence and was put on probation due to mental health issues.’

  ‘Yes, and . . .?’ There was a deep note of scepticism in Clarke’s voice.

  ‘I felt it was important to interview his psychiatrists. In his case, at two different clinics.’

  ‘So, what did you gain from these interviews?’

  ‘Middleton did not attend all his appointments and refused to take his medication. Both National Health clinics and his GP were concerned about his mental state.’

  ‘So, having had these meetings what is your conclusion?’

  ‘I think this young man is very dangerous. If he succeeds in avoiding a custodial sentence yet again, I think he is a great risk. He is prone to violence and appears to prefer very young girls.’

  Clarke looked up sharply, frowning. ‘There has been no previous reference to this.’

  ‘I know that, sir. But Rodney’s father said his son had been told to leave their home as he had been over-familiar with the two little girls. I also interviewed his girlfriend. She has been with him since she was a twelve-year-old runaway, and she inferred that he had picked up other young girls as well. Perhaps I’m being over diligent in my investigation, sir, but to me there are alarm bells – ’

  Clarke interrupted him, waving his hand. ‘Never mind the dramatics, DS Warr. If I understand correctly, your concerns are that Middleton might yet again avoid a custodial sentence due to his medical history.’

  ‘Yes, sir, and that he may well go on to commit murder. In fact, he may have already done so. This is the reason I would like to get a search warrant for his basement flat. From the case file it appears to me that although a uniformed officer did actually do a search of the flat, it was not thorough. They weren’t looking for any blood or other weapons as Middleton handed a knife over to them after assaulting the newsagent.’

  Clarke nodded then glanced at his watch and gave Jack a long, cold stare.

  ‘Right, I want a detailed report of the interviews you conducted today. I seriously hope you’re not embroidering the facts of this case. I will need to consider everything before I give you the green light to continue your investigation. I understand your concerns regarding Amanda Dunn, and I’m confident that the right department is now handling the situation. I also need to know every officer’s whereabouts at all times so make sure you and your team’s daily duties are recorded on CRIS. That’s all for now, sergeant.’

  Jack watched him walk out and sat back to finish his cold coffee. He drained the takeaway cup and tossed it into the bin.

  He missed Ridley.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jack worked on his reports for most of the afternoon. With Clarke’s demand for detailed feedback, the entire team seemed to be glued to their laptops, and the clerical staff were endlessly typing and printing.

  Laura had found some more information about the fire at the Middletons’ family home, but nothing significant. Jack took a break at 5 p.m. and went up to the canteen, getting another coffee and a ham and cheese toasty. Laura was just leaving when she stopped by his table.

  ‘You heard anything more about Ridley?’ she asked.

  ‘No, have you?’

  ‘No, it’s very strange, isn’t it? I did ask an old mate of mine over at the Yard and she said she hadn’t been told anything. He must be ill, don’t you think?’

  Jack didn’t want to get into a conversation about going to visit Ridley, so he just shrugged and continued eating.

  ‘I’ve just handed in my report. I really hope that tomorrow I can get onto something more interesting. It’s strange, isn’t it, not much going on but DCI Clarke is so intent on clearing up outstanding stuff that we’re all typing our fingers red raw! Good night then.’ She laughed, leaving Jack to finish his sandwich.

  Any time now the night shift would be coming on duty and Jack wanted to get a bit more work done without interruption. He called home and told Penny that he might be late, and to tell Maggie not to worry about his dinner. She said she would leave some stew and he could just heat it up when he got back. He hung up, realising he’d forgotten to ask about Hannah, and thinking again how fortunate they were to have his mother caring for her.

  Jack returned to his desk where stacks of files were waiting for him. The young female detective was just leaving him some notes, then turned to him with a smile.

  ‘Hello, I was just off home. I’ve made a bit of progress on the girl, Amanda Dunn. She was reported missing about five years ago. But social services said they had contacted her mother and there was no need for any further enquiry. Another poor kid that fell through the cracks. They also said they’ve been recently contacted by a Mrs Thornton at a hostel in Shepherd’s Bush, as Amanda was staying there. Mrs Thornton said they had contacted Amanda’s mother, who said she could not afford to come to London as Amanda’s father was no longer living with her and she was with another man who had never even met her daughter.’

  ‘Christ! She’s still only seventeen years old!’ Jack exclaimed.

  ‘I thought it was a bit strange, so I did a bit more checking into the family. Mrs Dunn had another child younger than Amanda, who is now deceased. She had two other children: one had been taken into foster care and the other is still living with her. I got on to Social Services in Liverpool again and it seems the Dunn family have quite a history. William Dunn, Amanda’s dad, was charged with domestic abuse five years ago, and Mrs Dunn had a restraining order taken out against him. He subsequently breached the order and was arrested . . .’

  Jack held up his hand to slow her down as he jotted down some notes.

  ‘Go on . . .’

  The officer leaned across to hand him her typed notes. ‘It’s all here, sarge. Apparently Dunn was also accused of molesting Amanda, by her mother, but it never went through the court as Mrs Dunn failed to turn up for the hearing. I would say that was around the time Amanda ran away. There was at some point a considerable amount of effort by the police and press to trace Amanda, but Mrs Dunn didn’t report her as missing and was uncooperative. She stated that she knew she would be with relatives. It beggars belief really.’