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.’
‘Thanks, this is just what I needed. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name?’
‘Sara. I think Tony, the other officer, is still working on getting the probation reports, as well as details from the fire brigade. So much isn’t in the files. Tony said it was hard going getting through to all the different departments, but he should have some contacts for you in the morning.’
She started to walk away, then stopped.
‘Oh, there’s something else. A few names on a notepad that I think you said the clinic passed on to you?’
‘How many names were there?’ Jack had not even looked at it.
‘Three, but one of them – a Brian Henson – is deceased. I think he was second on the list, but I’m not sure.’
‘Well, I guess that’s one less to try and track down. Thanks again, Sara.’
‘Would you like me to bring you a coffee?’
‘That would be greatly appreciated – white with two sugars please.’
Jack returned to sifting through the files and copies of more newspaper articles about the fire. One article had photographs of the little girls and one of Karen, their mother. She was very attractive with long blonde hair and was quoted as saying she was ‘beyond despair at losing her two little angels and did not know how she would live without them.’ There was a small news item with the headline saying Mother of tragic children dies, with the same photograph of Karen. She had died from a heroin overdose ten months after the fire.
He closed the file as Sara returned with his coffee and a KitKat. Jack said it was just what he needed and thanked her again. She hovered for a moment, then said she would leave him to get on with his work.
Jack continued working on his report and did not finish until after 11 p.m. By the time he got home he felt drained and couldn’t be bothered to heat up the stew that had been left on the stove. Instead, he got himself a tumbler of whisky and went up to his office.
He looked into the bedroom to see Maggie fast asleep, then continued up the stairs. All was silent, and Penny and Hannah were also sleeping so he moved carefully in order not to disturb them.
He sat at his desk sipping his drink. As tired as he was, he started making more notes for himself. He wanted to check on Amanda Dunn. If her mother seemed not to even want to travel to London, he was concerned about what could happen to her. Would she return to the basement flat? He opened his briefcase and started removing some of the files he had not had time to look over. He was annoyed that they did not include any police reports of Rodney Middleton’s previous arrests, but then he found copies of Anthony Middleton’s criminal records. He had moved from petty crime to house burglaries, and then there were charges of assault and battery connected to a car theft ring that he had been involved with. He was sentenced to three years. All his criminal activities had resulted in short-term prison sentences, until the last, when he received ten years for armed robbery. That was four years ago.
Jack sighed. The robbery had occurred after the fire, and after the death of his wife Karen. He recalled Anthony saying that there was nothing on the outside for him. And he certainly had no feelings for his son, Rodney.
Jack was about to call it quits for the night when his mobile rang. He made a frantic search for it as he didn’t want to wake anyone up, then found it in his jacket pocket. It was Ridley.
‘I hope this isn’t too late?’
‘No, sir, I was just doing some research.’
‘I need to talk to you.’
‘Do you want to come over?’
‘No. Can you meet me tomorrow? Turk’s river cruises, just by John Lewis car park entrance. It’s closed, but there’s a slip road, I’ll be outside on their dock, at 7 a.m.’
‘Yes, of course. I’ll be there.’
‘No word to anyone, Jack. It’s important and I’m depending on you. Good night.’
Jack leaned back in his chair, puzzled by the call but at the same time pleased that Ridley had at least made contact. He physically jumped when Maggie walked in.
‘I heard your phone going . . . it woke me up. Is everything alright?’
‘I’m sorry, darling. I was in here working and I should have turned it off.’
‘Do you want a hot drink? I think I might make myself one as I’ll need to take a sleeping tablet to get back to sleep now.’
‘Why don’t you go back to bed. I’ll bring you up a Horlicks. I might have one myself.’
She hunched her shoulders, smiling. ‘Sounds good to me . . . and maybe a biscuit?’
Jack turned off his laptop as she went back into the bedroom. By the time he had heated the milk, searched the cupboard for the Horlicks and found the biscuit tin, it was midnight, and he was suddenly tired out. Maggie was sitting up in bed with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders. She reached out for the tray with both hands.
‘Oh, I need this. Soon as I wake up, I can never go back to sleep because I start thinking about everything I need to be doing. I’ll have to go to the ATM tomorrow as I had to give Penny cash for the grocery shop.’
‘I’ll just brush my teeth,’ Jack said, watching her place her hot drink on the bedside table.
‘I already paid Mum yesterday morning. I gave her fifty quid. I meant to transfer some more money into her bank account, but I had a long day. I’ll do it tomorrow.’
Maggie sipped her drink, frowning. ‘I gave her forty pounds this morning before I left, and she shouldn’t need her bank account topping up until the end of the month. She has her pension, and obviously doesn’t pay rent or any of the bills.’
‘We would have to cough up a lot more if we hired a live-in nanny to take care of Hannah like Mum does.’
‘That’s not my point, Jack. She’s obviously worth her weight in gold but I’m just a bit concerned about what she’s spending all her money on.’
‘Bingo!’ Jack grinned.
‘Oh, be serious! And she doesn’t pay for her mobile, you do. The allowance we pay her is really just for extras, as everything else is covered. I know it doesn’t amount to that much, but remember, Penny refused to accept any money from us because she said she had her pension and some money from your dad, but we insisted . . . are you listening?’
‘Sorry, I was nodding off. I’ll have a chat with her in the morning.’
‘I think you should. Not that I mind paying her whatever she needs. She is a life-safer for me.’
Maggie took a sleeping pill and drained her Horlicks, placing the empty mug on her bedside table. She just managed to retrieve Jack’s half full mug before it toppled onto the duvet as he was fast asleep. She had to reach over him to turn his bedside light off, and then her own, as she snuggled down beside him.
These long days at the hospital were not good for their love life. She started counting how many nights it was since they had actually had sex, and it quickly became like counting sheep because she was soon fast asleep.