She shook her head, winced, and twisted her neck until it made a loud crack. “Does there have to be a motive to all attacks? I haven’t led anyone on or anything like that,” she stated quietly.
Sally smiled at the young woman. “I wasn’t insinuating you had. Maybe this was just an off-the-cuff attack. Perhaps you were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Do you want to try and give us a description now?”
“Yes.”
For the next twenty minutes, in between sobs and large breaths, Amanda described the assailant in detail as Kathy sketched. Between them, a face appeared on the paper. Then after a few minor adjustments were completed, Kathy handed Sally the sketch. She compared it to the sketch Kathy had drawn based on the description Tracy Brand’s boyfriend had given her. The two sketches showed men with similar features, but Amanda had produced a much better plausible identity of the suspect than the first one had. No wonder the bar staff and customers at the pubs didn’t recognise him.
“Okay, that’s superb. Thank you for overcoming your pain to supply us with the details. I’m going to take this sketch and revisit some of the pubs where we believe this man might have encountered the other victims. I’m also going to visit your place of work. Maybe someone spotted the man eyeing you up at the store during the course of your shift.”
“I hope you’re going to take it to the press, too,” Mr. Collins interjected angrily.
Sally glanced up at him. “Of course, we’ll also be searching our database to see if we can compare the crimes to anyone who might have recently been released from prison on a similar offence. I hope your recovery is a speedy one, Amanda. I really appreciate you pushing yourself to give us this description. It was very brave of you.”
“I just don’t want anyone else going through what this man has done to me. My father said none of the other women survived.”
“That’s right, unfortunately.”
“Someone must have been looking down on me then. For that, I’m grateful.”
Sally and Kathy left the room.
“How did it go?” Jack asked as the three of them headed back to the car.
“Good, I think. At least we have a better idea of the suspect now.” She held the sketch up for him.
“That’s great. What now?”
“Back to the station.”
Once they arrived, Sally thanked Kathy for her stunning work before she and Jack entered the incident room. The rest of the team glanced their way expectantly. Sally took out the sketch and placed it alongside a copy of the first drawing.
“Wow, there’s no comparison! Perhaps the boyfriend was still drunk when he gave his description of the suspect,” Joanna exclaimed.
“Precisely. Just goes to prove how much more observant women are in comparison to men. Anyway, here’s what we’re going to do. First, I want everyone to prepare for a long shift. By the end of it, I’m hoping we’ll have this man’s name and address, at the very least.”
“Can I make a suggestion, boss?” Joanna asked, sounding uncertain.
“Sure, go on.”
“Why not revisit Dorling? It’s been a few days since your last visit. There should be some improvement in his condition by now. Maybe he’ll recognise the sketch now.”
“That’s definitely on my to-do list, Joanna. Thanks for the reminder. He wasn’t able to see the other sketch, so at least he’s a fresh witness. Can you get onto the media, try and get a slot on the evening news tonight? I haven’t really got time to call a press conference. Check if they’ll be happy to run the story only with the information we give them, will you?”
“I’m sure that will be fine. Do you want me to contact the evening paper, too?”
“Yes, do that. Right, Jordan and Stuart, while Jack and I are at the prison with Dorling, I need you to revisit all the pubs where the victims worked and flash the sketch around, see if anyone recognises the man or, better still, can name him. Okay, let’s get to it, people. We’re close now. Let’s keep the momentum going until we can haul this guy in.”
The room buzzed for a few seconds as the team began their tasks. Then within seconds, calm returned.
“Are you ready to go, Jack?”
He nodded and headed for the door. “Let’s hope this doesn’t turn out to be a waste of time like the previous visit.”
“That’s what I like to hear—the positivity resonating in your tone.” She laughed when he halted on the stairs and glared at her.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Les Dorling was sitting upright against his puffed-up pillows in his hospital bed when Sally and Jack arrived at the prison hospital wing. His demeanour altered the second he saw Sally, Jack, and the warden enter the room. He shuffled down in the bed, and his eyes flickered shut, as if he were pretending he was still having trouble seeing properly to prolong his stay in hospital.
With a smile set firmly in place, Sally spoke to the men accompanying her out the side of her mouth, “It would appear we have an actor in our midst.”
“We’ll see about that,” Warden Mountford said. “Time to get tough, I believe, Inspector.”
Sally nodded. “I’ll leave that part to you.”
“Right, Dorling. DI Parker and DS Blackman have come back to question you. This time, you will pay attention and answer them fully. Do you hear me?”
One eye inched open, and he glanced up at them. “But the doc says that I need bed rest and shouldn’t be disturbed.”
“Bollocks. The doctor said he’s pleased with your progress and that you’re prone to laying it on thick when it pleases you. He also said that he has every intention of discharging you this afternoon. That wouldn’t occur to him if he had any doubts about your recovery,” the warden said brusquely.
Dorling held up his hands and opened his eyes fully. “Okay, it’s a fair cop. The rest in a comfy bed was nice while it lasted.”
Sally was seething inside. She hated people making a fool of her, especially prisoners. She swallowed her annoyance and showed Dorling the sketch. Instantly, she could tell that Dorling recognised the person. “Who is he?”
He twisted his head from side to side. “I think he used to be my best friend.”
“Does this man have a name?” Sally’s heart rate quickened.
“Jed Liddell, if that is him. Are you telling me he’s set me up for these crimes?”
“That’s what it looks like to me. Why would he do that, Mr. Dorling?”
“How the effing hell would I know?” He scratched his head. “I’m asking myself the same question.”
“Okay, let’s go back to when you ‘used to be friends.’ Can you tell me why that friendship ended?”
“Jesus, to think I tried to kill myself because of that prick!”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“About five years ago, maybe longer.”
A sinking feeling attacked Sally’s insides. If it’s been years, how did Liddell have access to Dorling’s semen? “Are you aware that your semen was found as DNA evidence at every murder scene, before you were locked up and after?” Dorling nodded. “How would Liddell have access to that if you haven’t laid eyes on him in years?”
He ran a hand through his thinning hair. “He was seeing this girl, who took a liking to me. We had an affair behind his back. He kicked her out when he heard about the affair.”
“How many years ago are we talking about here?”
“I don’t know, about seven, I suppose.”
“Okay, but you said you thought it had been five years or so since you last saw him…” Sally folded her arms.
“He showed up, saying I owed him, that I’d robbed him of the one woman he’d truly been happy with. He’d planned on settling down and having children with her.”
“And?”
“Well, he said that he’d met someone new and they were struggling to have a family. They had attended some kind of clinic…”
“A fertility clinic?”
“Yes, that’s it. I couldn’t figure out where the conversation was going until he produced a pot and asked me to give him a sample of my semen.”