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“I didn’t lay a hand on Milly,” Sugden insisted. “I wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone someone as nice as Milly.”

“We’ve already established that you were with Mrs Lancaster the night she disappeared,” Killian told him. “You lied about going to the pub that night and the tool that was used to jam the locks on her car was found at your house.”

“We’ve also had some new information come to light,” Taylor added. “A while ago, you were seen hanging around Milly Lancaster’s car. It looked as if you were examining the doors.”

“What? Who told you that?”

“That’s not important,” said Killian. “If I were to hazard a guess, I would say you were trying to figure out how you could jam the locks. Did you plan all of this in advance?”

“Plan what? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Let me tell you what I think, and you can stop me if I’m on the wrong track. I think Milly made you angry when she rejected your advances and you wanted to teach her a lesson. You confronted her and things got out of hand. You drove up to Merryhead and pushed Milly and her car over the cliff.”

“How did you get back that night?” Taylor asked.

“Back from where? I didn’t go anywhere near Merryhead that night. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I really need a cigarette.”

“Not yet,” Killian said. “How did you get back to Polgarrow from Merryhead after you’d dumped the car? It’s a five-mile hike.”

“I didn’t do it. I haven’t walked five miles in years.” He certainly didn’t look as if he could walk very far at all.

“If someone drove you back, we’ll find out,” Killian went on. “Why don’t you tell us what happened? We have enough evidence, but I want to know why you did it. You’ll feel better for it.”

Taylor knew he was clutching at straws.

“I’ll feel better when I’ve had a cigarette,” Sugden said. “I’m not confessing to something I haven’t done.”

“Interview with Peter Sugden over.” Killian switched off the machine. “You’re free to go.”

Sugden looked at Killian in disbelief. “I can go home?”

“Yes, but don’t get any ideas about going anywhere for a while. We’ll be keeping an eye on you. I’ll get someone to drop you off at your home.”

Sugden jammed an unlit cigarette between his lips and left the interview room.

“You don’t think he did it, do you?” Taylor asked Killian.

“No. He’s a repulsive specimen of a human being but I reckon he was telling the truth back there.”

“What about the evidence? The screwdriver?”

“I think someone was trying to frame him,” Killian said, “but I have no idea who.”

“What now?”

“Back to square one. We go through what we have once more and see if anything jumps out at us.”

“Three people have died in less than a week. Milly Lancaster, Dennis Albarn and the mystery man in the fishing net. We have no idea what really happened to any of them. If they’re not linked, then it’s even weirder. And it’s driving me crazy.”

“I have to get back to the hospital. Sorry. Megan will be expecting me.”

“I’m sorry,” Taylor told him. “I didn’t know till recently that she was ill.”

“It’s been more than ten years now. Some days are better than others. It makes me question everything we’re doing, you know. I’ve always believed everyone deserves a chance, but my Megan has never hurt anybody in her life and yet she’s made to suffer. And there are cold-blooded murderers out there living the life of Riley.”

Killian’s sudden outburst took Taylor by surprise. She had never heard her boss talk like that before.

“I’m just tired.” He gave her an unconvincing smile. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

“Anything you want me to do in the meantime?”

“Kill two birds with one stone. Head down to the mortuary and see what Jon Finch can tell you about Dennis Albarn and that poor bastard who ended up in the fishing net.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

It was Taylor’s first time at the Trotterdown mortuary. In fact it was the first time she’d had to identify a body since Danny’s. She still remembered the feeling of utter nothingness as she gazed at his face. She’d felt precisely zero, and then when she did start feeling something she’d been more angry than sad. Angry that Danny had left her alone to deal with the damage he had caused while he was alive.

Dr Jon Finch turned out to be very thin and tall. He had black hair and the most piercing blue eyes Taylor had ever seen.

“DC Harriet Taylor?” he said. “Take a seat. I have some very interesting news for you.”

He smiled and his blue eyes looked even brighter. She could not help staring at them for slightly longer than was appropriate under the circumstances.

“I get them from my father,” Finch said. “The eyes. They’re a curse some times.”

She blushed. The faint smell of aftershave lingered in the air. Taylor recognised it — Danny had worn it.

“Let’s start with the man whose other half seems to have deserted him, shall we,” Finch said. “Please excuse my sense of humour. I’m afraid a rather black sense of humour goes with the job.”

You ought to spend some time with a certain paramedic I know, Taylor thought.

“This is certainly an interesting one,” the doctor went on. He tapped a few keys on the keyboard on the desk. “Identity unknown, I’m afraid — chopped in half. It wasn’t a shark attack like they’re saying on the news. Sharks leave a lot of uneven jagged lacerations. This poor bugger’s been sliced in half a lot more cleanly.”

“I know. I saw the body. Do you have any idea how it happened?”

“A sharp piece of metal, if I were to hazard a guess. Don’t quote me, though. But I do know roughly when it happened and I do know he’d been dead for quite some time before someone cut him up.”

“How long?”

“I’d say around a week. Maybe a bit less.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. If he’d been in the water that long, how did he get chopped in half?”

“Ah, there’s the rub.” Finch clapped his hands together. “Firstly, he was only in the water a matter of hours and, secondly, he was dead before he hit the water. There was no water in his lungs and he’s almost undamaged by the water. Believe me, if he’d been in the sea for that amount of time, he’d be looking very different.”

“Are you saying somebody killed him, waited almost a week, chopped him up and threw him in the sea?”

“Well, it looks like it. But that’s just my guess.”

“OK.” Taylor was finding it hard to take all of this in. “He was killed, chopped up and thrown in the sea. Do you know what killed him?”

“His brains were bashed in. Literally. He suffered a large number of heavy blows to the back of the head.”

“Murder?”

“Looks like it. Somebody bashed him over the head, kept him around for almost a week and then chopped him in two. His ring finger was severed too, whatever that signifies.”

“His ring finger?”

“Yes it doesn’t look like it was cut off accidentally.”

“What about Dennis Albarn? Surely that was an accident?”

“Mr Albarn is one of the worst burns cases I’ve ever come across. He had burns to over ninety percent of his body. It would have been an agonising death if he’d been alive before he was incinerated. But he wasn’t. Just as our half-man had no water in his lungs, there were no traces of smoke in Albarn’s. Fire and water. It’s like something out of an opera, isn’t it?”