Dan knocked on the door and stepped back. ‘We should have called ahead.’
‘What if he’d said no?’ Jayne said. ‘At least this way, we get to ask the questions and see his response.’
They’d found the newspaper reports from when Charlotte Crane went missing to find out which part of Highford she lived in, and a few minutes asking passing locals had got them her address. Dan had no idea what reception he’d get but Jayne was right, and it felt like they were keeping the case alive.
The house was a barn conversion, high and long, dominated by a window where the large barn doors had once been, with a view over a field with cows and bordered by drystone walls. The main door was solid wood but new, an attempt to blend with the style of the building.
Dan squinted as the door opened. There was a man in front of him, early fifties, small and squat, his grey hair swept into a side parting, his stomach protruding against a v-neck jumper.
‘Michael Crane? I’m Dan Grant, and this is Jayne Brett, an investigator. I’m a lawyer defending a murder case and I think it might be connected to your wife’s disappearance.’
For a moment, Dan thought the man was going to slam the door in his face. His jaw clenched and his fingers tightened on the doorframe. Then he stepped aside. ‘Come in.’
Dan and Jayne exchanged glances before making their way inside.
As they stepped into the living room, Michael folded his arms and said, ‘I know who you are.’ Before Dan could respond, he added, ‘I’m a reporter. I don’t do the court stuff, but I cover local news, so your name comes up sometimes.’
Dan looked around the room. He couldn’t see any pictures of Charlotte.
Michael must have guessed what he was thinking, because he said, ‘There were no photographs of Charlotte on the wall before she went missing. I’m not going to turn my home into a tribute.’
Dan was surprised by his hostility. ‘I’m sorry if my questions are difficult for you, but it’s important.’
‘I don’t need the fake sympathy. You’re not here to tell me how sorry you are. You want information from me but let me ask you a question first. Why do you think Charlotte’s disappearance could be linked to one of your cases?’
‘You’ve heard of Sean Martin?’
He laughed, but it was bitter. ‘This is a joke, right? Your firm represented him. I know all about Sean Martin. I wrote about him when he was first convicted, and the newspaper sales were so good that the boss asked me to keep on writing about him, even after he was freed.’
‘What did you write?’
‘About how sick he was, a cold and calculated liar, and when he was acquitted I wrote how nothing had changed my mind. I had to stop though, because I got a letter from your firm. He threatened to sue the paper, said that we’d libelled him, but we hadn’t. He’s never been proved to be innocent, just not guilty, but the owner backed down and apologised. We agreed to run a story on him that was more favourable, and he was happy with that. You can guess that I wasn’t.’ He looked confused. ‘Why are you asking about Sean Martin?’
‘My client is accusing him of murder, of a few murders, in fact, and we are wondering if he might have been involved in your wife’s disappearance.’
Michael didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stared at Dan and then Jayne. ‘Are you serious?’
‘I wouldn’t come to your home and joke about this. Did Charlotte know Sean?’
He scoffed and shook his head. ‘Sean Martin? Yeah, that would be about right.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand.’
Michael’s tone was angrier when he said, ‘Charlotte was having an affair. I found out about it before she went missing, but I never knew who with. She was always on her phone, messaging constantly, and then she stopped coming to bed as early. One night, she was up later than normal but I couldn’t hear the television going, so I went downstairs, to check whether she’d fallen asleep on the sofa, and I caught her.’
‘Caught her?’
‘Come on, what do you think I mean? She had her hand between her legs like some frustrated teenager, staring at her phone but too much in the moment to know I was there.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘About a month before she went missing. You can guess what the police thought, that I’d killed her in a jealous rage. I can tell you I didn’t, because I was out with my friends when she disappeared. And she was meant to be with her friends, except she slipped away. To meet whoever she was messaging, I’ll bet.’
‘Did you ever find out who it was?’
‘No. We shouted and screamed at each other, but she wouldn’t say. Told me that it was just a stupid flirtation, nothing more, and none of my business. Nearly twenty years of marriage and she reckoned it wasn’t my business. She promised me she’d stop but, well, perhaps not. There might have been more than one, for all I know.’
‘And the police know all this?’
‘Of course they do, except they didn’t know who she was messaging because her phone wasn’t recovered.’
‘What about billing?’
‘Come on, what decade do you live in? Who uses texts these days? It’s all messaging apps, everything untraceable.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you saying she is missing because of Sean Martin? Really?’
‘Did she know him?’
‘Don’t you think I’d have something to say if she did? But it would have been just like her to pick Sean Martin out of spite.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We’d grown apart, but she felt trapped, by this,’ he said, waving his hand towards the walls. ‘Resented me for giving her a nice home. Can you credit it? But she knew I hate Sean Martin for the way he pontificates, the new crusader, so how sweet would her revenge be to become his mistress?’ He looked to Jayne. ‘That’s how you women are, aren’t you? Vengeful?’
Jayne wanted to say that she hoped Charlotte had just found someone better, but she ignored the comment and instead asked, ‘How did she go missing?’
‘She was at the Hare and Hounds, down by the canal, just outside of town. Her friends said that she disappeared just after midnight. One minute she was there, and the next she wasn’t.’
Dan thanked him, Jayne too.
‘Don’t thank me. Just get that bastard.’