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Danny considered the woman sitting opposite and was quite impressed. She was obviously a fighter and a survivor. Danny hoped she would turn out to be the same.

Jackie Turner’s eyebrows rose, what was left of them, that is. They had been plucked almost to oblivion, replaced by an unsure line. ‘What do you want from me?’

‘ Because it’s a murder investigation, we follow up all sorts of leads, so don’t think it’s unusual to be asked a few questions. Joe’s not a suspect, but we like to know as much as possible about families, backgrounds, all that kind of stuff.’

‘ I’d suspect the bastard,’ Jackie said vehemently. ‘He could be really violent.’

‘ Even with kids?’

Jackie clamped her mouth shut tight, accentuating her corrugated lips.

‘ Jackie, when I came to see you all those years ago, you and Joe were having a real humdinger.’

‘ Yeah, I remember now.’

‘ What was it about?’

She shrugged. ‘The usual shite. Drink played its part. I’m not sure what sparked it.’

Danny looked directly into her eyes. Jackie’s dropped and she inspected her smouldering cigarette end.

‘ I don’t think it was the usual, was it, Jackie?’

‘ I don’t know what you mean.’

The detective’s eyes closed briefly in an expression which told Jackie that Danny thought she was a lying bitch. ‘It’s only just come back to me, Jackie. Literally only last night, but I think I’ve put two and two together. When I turned up at your house, I wasn’t really listening to the words of your ding-dong, but they must have sunk into my thick head.’ She tapped her skull. ‘And only now have they come out the other side.’ Danny opened her shoulder bag and took out the scrap of paper she had written on in the early hours after that vivid dream. She glanced at Jackie, who looked very unhappy.

‘ Joe said, “I never touched her”,’ Danny read out. ‘You said, “You did, you bastard. You had it off with her. She told me”.’

Jackie stared past Danny’s shoulders, her jaw set tight. Her eyes were moist. Danny was aware of the other woman tapping the floor with her feet.

‘ “ I never, as God is my witness”, or something like that, is what Joe then said. And you said, “You got into bed and…”’ Danny’s voice swooped to a whisper, ‘ “fucked Julie”. That’s what I remember, Jackie. What was all that about?’

Jackie’s head fell into her hands. A huge sob thudded through her body and Danny touched her shoulder. Then Jackie sat upright and wiped her face which was streaming with tears. ‘Snot rag, I need a snot rag.’ She patted her pockets desperately and stopped when Danny handed her a tissue. She blew her nose with a loud trumpeting sound and looked at Danny with a forlorn expression. ‘Oh God — Jackie, Joe and Julie, the three J’s… a perfect family by all accounts,’ she spat bitterly. ‘Money, businesses, big house, big bloody Jag and a father who couldn’t keep his filthy rotten hands off his only daughter. She was ten years old when he did it to her and then denied it. That’s

what really split us up. I don’t even need to start explaining why, do I?’

Danny shook her head.

‘ No bloody wonder Julie’s own marriage is on the rocks. She’s completely dysfunctional where sex is concerned, even though she’s had two kids.’

‘ Did you have any proof about Joe?’

‘ Julie’s word. A doctor’s examination.’

‘ Why didn’t you go to the police?’

Jackie stared contemptuously at Danny. ‘Because I didn’t trust you to do anything other than put Julie through hell — and she’d gone through enough already.’

Jackie’s hands fumbled with her cigarette packet in an attempt to get one out. Danny laid her hands over Jackie’s and took the packet from her, tapping one out and handing it to her. Jackie lit it from the one she was already smoking.

‘ Thanks, Jackie. I’m sorry to have brought up such painful memories.’

‘ You haven’t.’ Jackie uttered a short laugh, a sardonic curl on her lips. ‘It’s with me every single day, every hour of every day and I can’t shake it off. It will never leave me and I’m not sure I want it to, perverse as it may seem.’

Danny nodded, rose to leave.

Jackie reached out and grabbed her arm. ‘There is one thing?’

‘ What’s that?’

‘ Please don’t approach Julie and ask her anything. She has to forget.’

‘ I won’t,’ Danny promised.

It was only a very short appearance at Blackpool Magistrates Court for Louis Vernon Trent. He was flanked by two large policemen, one of whom was handcuffed to him, the other standing slightly behind him in the dock, his hand rubbing the knob of his baton almost sensually, willing Trent to behave badly so he could whack him. As it was, Trent remained meek, mild and compliant.

There was no application for bail and Trent was remanded in custody to reappear before magistrates on the following Thursday.

Twenty minutes later he was in the back of a prison bus which turned out of the rear yard of Blackpool police station, only to be met by a crowd of jeering onlookers who pelted the vehicle with eggs and rotten tomatoes.

Henry Christie yawned and stretched. He had been chatting to the CPS solicitor who had handled the short hearing, but had now gone, leaving Henry alone in the court, which was now deserted.

Henry was pleased Trent had been boxed off. It took a lot of pressure off him, particularly from FB who seemed to relish giving Henry grief. Now, other than the paperwork side of things, Henry could concentrate on Claire Lilton’s murder, which in a lot of respects was even more worrying than Trent’s escapades.

At least they knew they had been after Trent.

Now they had another murderer on the loose who they did not have a clue about. It was going to be a tough one to solve and he had to get a squad up and running from nothing again and motivate them to success.

As he walked towards the court door, it swung open and a breathless DS Furness stood there.

‘ I’ve got something.’

‘ What? From this dream nonsense?’ Henry laughed.

‘ Yes, from this dream nonsense.’

‘ Sit. Tell.’ Henry waved to a seat at the back of the court. She did both.

When she’d concluded, she said, ‘Well?’

Henry nodded slowly. ‘Let’s give it a run. Let’s pull him in.’

They walked out of the court, across the mezzanine and into the door of the police station.

‘ Danny!’

She turned to the enquiry desk where the Public Enquiry Assistant was tapping on the toughened glass screen, beckoning Danny towards her. The woman pointed across the foyer to the waiting area. ‘He wants to see you.’

Danny looked. It was Joe Lilton.

Chapter Seventeen

It was with a great deal of pleasure that Danny ‘laid hands’ on Joe Lilton and arrested him on suspicion of murdering his stepdaughter. She cautioned him to the letter and he replied, ‘I don’t blame you for arresting me, but I didn’t kill her; that’s what I’ve come in here to clear up.’

Danny led him down to the custody office.

Henry came along for the ride, switching off his pager which was irritating the hell out of him by vibrating in his pocket. Downstairs he phoned comms and they passed a message to him to ring Karl Donaldson at the FBI office in London.

A call that would have to wait.

Danny presented Joe Lilton to the custody officer who went through the computerised booking-in system which automatically checked all incoming prisoners on the PNC. No previous convictions were thrown up for Lilton, but reference was made to his firearms certificate. He still held one. The custody officer pointed this out to Danny, who said, ‘I know.’

They went through the full kit and caboodle with Lilton.

His clothing was seized and bagged up for forensic; swabs and hair were taken for DNA sampling. He was given a paper suit and slippers, then Danny booked out a set of tapes and she and Henry took him to an interview room.