The morning had come too quickly for Dan. He had been up until well after two, trying to sort the bundle of notes and clippings into those he could use and those he couldn’t.
He’d whittled the list down to nine victims, although he had gone off-script. He and Jayne had decided that they were going to focus on those who were missing, but Dan had decided to include Rosie in the list, just to keep alive the link with Sean Martin. He knew what he had to do when he got to court, and it would make him unpopular, but it was the only way he could think of to make it work. His eyes felt heavy and his breath sour from lack of sleep.
He’d arranged to meet Bill and Jayne in a greasy spoon in Highford’s shopping district. He’d wondered whether Jayne would refuse to meet him, after the way they had ended the night before, but she’d agreed with a tired grunt. He got there first, cradling a large white mug on a chipped and scarred table, the sugar in a pouring jar and the street outside lost through the fogged-up windows. There were some builders in the cafe, wearing hi-vis vests over dusty ex-army gear, and it would fill later with those wanting a cheap and warm way to spend an hour, but Dan enjoyed it here. Unpretentious.
The bell over the door tinkled and Bill and Jayne came in, Bill holding the door open for her. Dan raised his hand to let them know he was there.
They made their way through the tables, the builders stopping their chatter to watch Jayne. One of them nodded to his friend, a wolf-whistle in his mind.
‘Morning,’ Dan said. ‘Just coffee or are we eating?’
‘I could murder a bacon sandwich,’ Bill said. ‘Anyone else?’
‘Make that two,’ Jayne said. ‘And coffee.’
‘And me,’ Dan said.
Bill went to the counter as Jayne slid along the vinyl seat until she was opposite Dan. She looked at the table and then away.
‘Everything all right?’ he said.
She looked back. Her gaze was hard. ‘Just keeping it professional. I need the work. You need my help. That’s all that matters.’
‘I’m not playing games. And it’s too early for an argument.’
She tried to look nonplussed. ‘No argument. Why have you called us here? Have you found something?’
‘Nothing more than what we talked about last night, but I felt I owed it to Bill to tell him first.’
‘Will he like it?’
‘I doubt it.’
She sighed and sat back. ‘I feel like we’re letting him down.’
‘I’ve got to put Peter first, not Bill.’
‘Do you think Peter Box is guilty?’
‘It’s not a question I ask myself. I’ve said this to you before.’
Jayne leaned closer and whispered, ‘What if Peter Box is the person killing people along the canals? It’s all right for you to brush it off, but how will Bill feel if you use his research to free the man actually doing the killing? What kind of irony would that be?’
‘We can be sure Peter had nothing to do with the death of Bill’s son, because it’s too different.’
‘Well, yes, you’re right. Just be gentle with him. He’s desperate for an answer.’
‘He already knows the answer. He just hasn’t accepted it yet.’
Bill came back to the table, the mugs clattering as he put them down, and then said to Dan, ‘Have you been busy with my research?’
‘I was up most of the night. Bill, I’m really sorry, but if you come to court today, you’ll be disappointed.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘There’s no easy way to say this. I’m hoping to use some of your stuff, but I’m not including your son in it.’
‘Why not?’
‘There are patterns in your research but if I try to use your son, the judge will query its relevance. There are some similarities, like the fact that he died in a canal, but everything else is different from Lizzie – gender, for a start. No obvious sign of a struggle. And, it took place miles away from Highford. There is no chance of me using his death in this case. I’m really sorry.’
Bill looked across at Dan, and then to Jayne. ‘Do you think the same? I thought you were different, from how you reacted last night.’
Jayne looked at Dan and then back to Bill, before she sighed and said, ‘I’m sorry, Bill. We went through all that you gave me and decided what we could use and what we couldn’t.’
He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. ‘You use my stuff and then treat me like Tom doesn’t matter.’
‘It isn’t that,’ Dan said. ‘I can only use what will help my client. This case might raise awareness though, make people look a bit closer, which might help you find out what happened to Tom. It won’t help my client if the judge throws it out before I can even start.’
Bill shuffled along the vinyl seat and stood up. ‘Thanks for nothing. To both of you, but you’ – he jabbed his finger towards Jayne – ‘I thought I saw something different in you.’
He turned and stomped through the cafe, the builders watching him yanking at the door.
The woman from behind the counter appeared next to them. ‘Bacon sandwiches?’
Jayne held out her hand to Dan. ‘It looks like we’ve got seconds.’
Lack of sleep was gnawing at Dan and he needed something more solid than the muesli he’d tackled when he first woke up.
They ate their sandwiches in silence before Jayne pushed her plate to one side and said, ‘So what now?’
‘I want Murdoch in the witness box today. I’ll use what I can.’
‘And me?’
‘Keep on looking into the ones who’ve gone missing. I need whatever I can.’
‘Are we forgetting about Sean Martin?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘On Sunday night, it was all about proving that Sean Martin might be involved in Peter’s case. Now, it’s all about a serial killer stalking the canals. If you don’t mind me saying, Dan, your defence is sounding a bit chaotic.’
Dan finished his sandwich. ‘I’ve got a client who won’t talk to me. That makes it pretty hard from the start, so I’ve just got to run with whatever I can pick up.’
‘Are we ignoring Sean Martin, then?’
‘Not completely. I’m including Rosie in my list, just to keep him as an option. She’s not wholly irrelevant. She died close to where Lizzie did, and we can suggest that if Sean Martin isn’t her killer, he might have disturbed the real murderer.’
‘How will Pat feel about that? We’re almost cementing Sean’s innocence, not proving his guilt.’
‘He’ll understand, and I have no choice, unless Peter decides to start telling me what happened and he’s had long enough to do that.’ He pushed the bacon sandwich left behind by Bill across the table. ‘Here, enjoy this. I’ve got to be at court soon. Let me know how you get on.’
‘I will.’
He slid out of the bench seat. ‘And I’m sorry about last night.’
‘Don’t make it a big deal. I’ve dealt with worse things than being rejected by you. I’ll survive.’
Dan left Jayne reaching for the brown sauce, to smother the bacon in the second sandwich. Once he got outside, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He didn’t recognise the number. ‘Hello, Dan Grant.’
‘Sorry, Dan, it’s Eileen.’
Dan’s mouth went dry. Eileen had never called him before, and their contact had only ever been limited to polite chatter at parties.
‘Is Pat all right?’ Dan said, his nerves obvious in his tone.
‘Well, that’s just it,’ she said, and Dan recognised the break in her voice that told him that she was trying hard to keep calm. ‘I don’t know where he is and I can’t get hold of him.’