Dan kept his eyes closed as he leaned back against the stone wall of the courthouse. Perspiration speckled his forehead, and he knew it was the pressure of the case. He could feel his nerves showing in the flush of his cheeks. Perhaps the robing room taunts were right. Perhaps he was out of his depth.
On top of it all were his worries about Pat’s disappearance, like a gnawing pain, the certainty that the outcome wasn’t going to be a good one.
Footsteps came close. He opened his eyes. It was Jayne.
‘I wondered where you’d gone. Any developments?’
He shook his head. ‘I had to get out. The prosecutor is taking some time to think about her next move.’
‘And you’re going to loiter here until she does?’
‘What else can I do?’ He straightened back and stretched. ‘I had to get out. It was smothering me.’
‘What do you want me to do?’
Dan thought about that for a few seconds before he said, ‘Follow Sean Martin, like before. The news will filter back somehow, and I want to know how he reacts.’
‘Listen, Dan, are you sure you’re doing the right thing, and for the right reason?’
‘How do you mean?’
‘Are you sure that you’re doing this for your client, what’s best for him, and not for Pat? You keep telling me how your job is to help people, no matter what they’ve done, but Pat’s disappearance might be clouding that.’
‘No, I can’t be sure, but I have a client who has told me a story that makes sense, in its own way. He wants to tell it, and I can’t think of a single good reason why I should stop him. If it helps to trap whoever is behind Pat’s disappearance, I’m happy with that. And it might be the only way.’
‘If you’re sure.’
‘I’m sure.’
‘Good. I’ll go then. I’ll keep you up to date.’
Just before she went, Dan said, ‘Be careful. I might already have lost someone I care about this week. Don’t let me lose you as well.’
Her eyes glistened for a moment. ‘You’re stuck with me. Sorry about that.’
Dan leaned back against the wall again, wanting to close his eyes again, but he saw Murdoch heading towards him.
As she got in front of Dan, she folded her arms. ‘What’s going on?’
‘Francesca not shared the news?’
‘She’s told me that Peter is going to admit to killing Lizzie, but if Peter killed her, why are we still having a trial?’
‘Loss of control, that’s the defence. He saw Lizzie and he snapped, could no longer control his anger.’
‘That’s the game then? Pretend he wasn’t involved but as soon as you realise you can’t get out of that, you come up with something new?’
There was a growl to his voice when he said, ‘I’m not answerable to you, Murdoch. Not now, not ever.’
‘I’m not your enemy, Dan.’
‘If that’s the case, do one thing for me: nail Sean Martin.’
‘How? Your firm got him released, remember?’
‘This case is all about Sean Martin. It always has been. I just never realised how much. Do you want to get him or not?’
Murdoch stepped closer. ‘I’ve been wanting to get that bastard ever since he walked out of prison.’
‘This is your chance. I told you what he told Pat. This all ties in.’
‘How?’
‘I can’t tell you, not until Peter makes it public, but look for the links between those deaths I mentioned. You were looking for Peter in them before. Look again, but this time look for Sean Martin.’
‘He’d have shown up before if he’s connected, because his name is like a beacon to us.’
‘Not back then it wasn’t. He’s in there somewhere, but you’ve got to go after him when you find it. He knew Claire Watkins. Did you realise that?’
She looked confused. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘There you go. At least two deaths are connected to him, if you include his stepdaughter. Look for the rest. Just promise me that you won’t let it go.’
‘You know me well enough now, Dan.’
‘I do. That’s why I’m glad it’s you.’
‘Is this why you’re doing this, to get Sean Martin?’
Dan stayed silent for a few seconds before he began to nod slowly. ‘The prosecution won’t let me blame Sean Martin without giving him a chance to rebut it, because if he can answer for himself, it’ll destroy any chance Peter has. Francesca won’t allow Peter’s testimony to be given unopposed. He will have to come to court. Speak to him, tell him that. It’ll spook him.’
‘And when he comes to court—’
Dan clenched his jaw. ‘I’ll be waiting.’
Jayne headed for her car, pleased that her day had acquired more purpose than just sitting in court and watching Dan do his stuff. Bill Maude was on a bench further along, waiting for court to resume, muttering to himself. When he saw her, he stood and rushed towards her.
‘What’s happening? Why is there a delay?’
Jayne put her hand on his. ‘I can’t say but go inside and watch. Today you might get some answers.’
‘What, about my Tom?’
‘No, not about Tom, I’m sorry, but some of what you believed turned out to be true. Not the part you wanted, but you’ve done some good.’
‘Don’t make me wait. What is it?’
Jayne rolled her eyes. ‘I can’t. It’s confidential. Until Peter gets in the witness box and makes it public, it has to stay private.’
‘At least give me a clue.’
Jayne thought about that for a few moments before she said, ‘Sean Martin is the key, and his boat.’
‘His boat?’
‘You said someone was roaming the canals. There’s your answer. But that’s all I’m saying.’
He nodded, pleased with that. ‘That’s what I wanted. It wasn’t just about Tom.’
Jayne didn’t challenge him. Instead, she went to walk towards her car.
Bill shouted after her, ‘Where does he keep it?’
‘The marina next to a garden centre in Highford. I’ve got to go, Bill. You take care now,’ and she trotted towards the car park, leaving Bill and the courthouse behind.
She checked her watch. She reckoned she could get to Sean Martin’s house in twenty minutes. She didn’t know whether Sean realised what was about to happen in the courtroom, but she had to be in place when it did.
Something occurred to her. The day could end up being long and dull and she thought of the perfect way to occupy her mind. She made a quick detour to a bookshop and found what she was looking for. Sean Martin’s autobiography.
The journey was uneventful, just a short drive along the motorway until she turned off and the countryside opened out.
She parked in the same place she did the first time she’d watched Sean, down the hill but close enough for a view of his house. Hopefully far enough away that she couldn’t be seen.
As she waited, she started to read his book. Virtually everyone Jayne had interviewed about him had said that Sean Martin had a high opinion of himself. That fitted in with how he’d taunted Pat Molloy with the information about the murder weapon. Wouldn’t he do the same to his readers? Were there subtle clues in the book that allowed him to laugh at the readers too?
Sean’s book began with his arrest, not Rosie’s death; he wrote of his surprise and shock at being accused of such a horrendous crime. The words seemed sincere, and Jayne struggled to read it, knowing the truth.
She glanced up towards the house now and then. There were no signs of anyone there, and there was only one car in the driveway.
She flicked to the plates section. Rosie was prominent in the early photos, although the pictures were only ever of her with Sean as the doting stepfather. Rosie looked happy in his company, no sign of what was to come. After that there were some pictures of the crime scene – police tape stretched across the towpath and police cars visible on the road nearby – before it moved on to images of Sean on the court steps, speaking emotionally into a sea of microphones, Pat Molloy just behind him.
The next few photographs were all about Sean and Trudy, the woman who had stood by him: on Sean’s boat, the name stencilled on the side, SOMEWHERE QUIET, moored in the countryside near a rundown old cottage; sitting on a patch of grass, Trudy in his arms, both looking contented and carefree.
She closed the book. She couldn’t stand to read it.
All she could do was watch and wait.