Jayne sat in her car and stared out of the windscreen.
She’d found a place overlooking the sea, an ancient arcade behind her that operated more like a museum, filled by penny falls that creaked into action and handle-operated fruit machines. A bingo stand was empty, netting over the prizes of dusty old teddy bears, and a dodgem car circuit stood unused at the rear. The beach in front of her was filled with dog walkers, heads bent into the breeze.
Jayne thought it had seemed a good place to meet because it was the sort of area where people sat in their cars and stared out as they shared a hot flask.
A police car pulled up next to her. One occupant. A male officer in his late twenties. Chris Overfield, right on time.
He had been easy to track down, a quick call to his station and a minor stroke of luck when they said he was on duty. As he stepped out of the car, she raised an eyebrow. It was a cliché, but tall, dark and handsome fitted, his body lean under his police shirt, his hair cropped close, his cheekbones sharp.
She wound down her window. ‘PC Overfield, I presume.’ She was sure she blushed.
He put his hand on the car roof and leaned in. A sweet scent drifted towards her, his cologne surprising her. His radio squawked, held on to his shirt by a clip. ‘What do you want?’ He was examining her bruises as he said it.
‘The same as you, I understand. To find out who really killed your sister.’
He straightened and put his hand on his hips, his lips pursed, his brow furrowed. He seemed to make his mind up, because he came around to the passenger side and climbed in, making her car rock.
‘What’s your interest?’
She was distracted by his hands, large and strong as they gripped his thighs. No wedding ring.
‘There was a reporter here a few months ago,’ she said. ‘Mark Roberts. He was murdered, and we represent his killer.’
‘Alleged killer, I presume?’
‘So he says.’
‘I remember him, and I read about his murder.’
‘And I know you spoke to him, because I know what you told him.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Which was what?’
‘That Rodney Walker didn’t murder your sister.’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s a small town and people talk.’
He looked towards the sea for a few seconds, as if working out his response, how much he should say. ‘Do you think his murder is connected to my sister’s case?’
‘We don’t know yet, but he came here and then ended up in Highford, where he was murdered.’
He took a deep breath through his nose. ‘This makes it awkward for me. I know it’s my sister, but I can’t get involved because of the job. Nothing I can say or do will bring her back, and I’m the one who has to live in the here and now.’
‘Just tell me what you know. I don’t have to disclose that you told me.’
He thought about that for a few seconds. ‘I’ve always thought it was strange that no one spoke up for him, Rodney Walker, not even himself.’
‘The jury said he killed your sister, and William not long before.’
‘And they got it wrong, you see, because I don’t think he did it.’
Although she was expecting it, it was a hell of a thing to say. ‘Why?’
‘Because on the day Ruby went missing, I saw him. Rodney. He never left the park.’
‘You’re an eyewitness? Wow. Chris. I can call you Chris?’
‘Sure.’
‘Tell me what you told Mark Roberts.’
He put his head back against the headrest. ‘I was only ten. I used to like the summer fair at the rugby club, because my dad was on the committee. He’d stopped playing by then, his medical practice taking up too much time, but he bore the scars. A mangled ear, a bent nose, but he loved that club. Every year, the summer fair was a big deal. I was hanging round the clubhouse and I could see Ruby running around. She felt safe, we thought she was safe, because our dad was king around there and we were in a familiar place. We spent so many Sunday mornings there, and I was old enough to remember my dad playing. I remember what Ruby was wearing as if I were seeing it on television. White jeans and a red belt, a pink Spice Girls t-shirt, and bright red shoes. She stood out. I knew Rodney as well, because I was at school with his daughter, and I saw him on the field, walking around.’
‘What was he doing?’
‘Just that, walking around. He was on his own, and he did look strange in some ways, examining the crowd. People said that’s how he was. Strange, always loitering and watching. The point is that he was there when Ruby was there, and he was still there when she was gone. I saw him when we were searching, because he was acting weird again, not joining in.’
‘Was that guilt?’ Jayne said. ‘He’d taken Ruby back to his garage and kept her there. He lived nearby, right behind the field. He could have been back and forth, deflecting suspicion, putting himself where the search was.’
‘That was the case theory, but I always knew that was wrong, because when I thought back, I realised he’d always been there. He’d been on the wrong side of the field to his house, too far away.’
‘You must have made a mistake. Why would you be watching him to remember him?’
‘For the same reason that everyone else thought he was guilty, that he was behaving weird, but that just meant I kept watching him. A classmate’s dad acting a bit mad, I was bound to watch him.’
‘Did you tell anyone about this?’
‘Of course I did, because I knew they had the wrong man. I told my mum, and I begged her to tell the police. She wouldn’t at first, too upset by what had happened, but she thought it would help me somehow. The police came to see me.’
‘Andrew Porter?’
‘That’s him. Our wonderful retired Chief Inspector. He wasn’t interested though. I was just a kid. By this time, Ruby’s body had been found and Rodney was locked up. There was no way they were going to let a ten-year-old kid ruin their case. As far as they were concerned, he’d murdered two children. I was told to stay quiet.’
‘And did you?’
‘Not privately, and I’ve told Porter since, once he retired, but he patronises me, just about pats me on the hand.’
‘And then Mark Roberts came along and you told him your story?’
‘That’s exactly it. I was at my parents’ house at the time, just clearing some stuff out, and he turned up wanting a quote.’ He smiled. ‘I gave him a little more. I told him my story. He was there just for background, but by the time he left he was wondering whether there was another story. A bigger one.’
‘How did Mark react?’
‘Sceptical at first, but he spoke to Porter and seemed to change his mind.’
‘How come?’
‘I don’t know, except that he started to get more excited about it. At last, there was someone who believed me.’
‘And now he’s been silenced.’
‘Yeah, funny that.’ He turned towards her. ‘Does that help you in any way?’
‘Yes, and no. It’s made everything more complicated, but I don’t know where to begin.’
‘With Porter. If you’re going to follow Mark Roberts’s trail, you follow it from me to him.’
‘I’ve got to speak to Rodney’s lawyer. What’s he like?’
‘Runs a one-man-band type of firm. Represents most of the local toe-rags, but I think he was out of his depth with Rodney.’
‘What about your parents? Will they talk to me?’
Chris shook his head. ‘They’re convinced Rodney’s guilty. They won’t thank you for raking it up again.’
‘They were both doctors, so I was told. Do they both still practise?’
‘My father does. My mother gave it up. She was a GP but couldn’t stand the sympathy. She couldn’t do a surgery without someone wanting to tell her how they understood, but they didn’t. They never could. And the ones who stayed silent still saw her differently. Wary somehow.’ He furrowed his brow. ‘One more thing.’
‘What?’
‘Who did that to you?’ and he pointed to Jayne’s face.
She curled her lip. ‘No one. Just a mugging attempt, but they didn’t get anything.’
‘Did you report it?’
‘That would mean I’d have to hang around, to make the statement to you lot, and come back for the trial.’
‘Have you been to Brampton before?’
‘No.’
‘I can’t let some petty thug spoil your impression of the town. Let me take you out tonight?’
A flush crept up her cheeks. ‘Won’t your girlfriend mind?’
‘If I had one, probably, but I haven’t. Where are you staying?’
‘Waves.’
‘I’ll call you later. Seven o’clock?’
‘Well, yes, why not? Thank you.’
As he got out of her car and back into the police car, he was smiling, Jayne too. As he drove off, it turned into a grin.
Perhaps her time in Brampton might get more interesting than she expected.