Jo looked at the desk again and saw a modern, cordless landline resting in its cradle. “You work from home?”
“When I’m not doing house calls or centre visits.”
“Centre visits?”
He smiled patiently. A smile reserved for those who were a bit slow or didn’t understand things the first-time round. “Sometimes teenagers prefer to meet in a neutral space rather than at their home. That’s what the centres are for.”
“Where is it?” asked Jo.
“Woking.”
“Mr Daley, can I ask you where you were on the 15th of November 2018.”
His eyes widened. “I’m afraid I don’t have that good a memory. Do you mind if I consult my diary?”
“Go ahead.”
They watched as he got up and walked over the desk. Opening the top right-hand drawer, he pulled out a leather-bound Filofax.
“Luckily, I write down all my appointments,” he said.
Jo glanced at Rob.
He thumbed back through the crowded pages. “Ah, here it is. Wednesday. I was at the centre that morning and I had a home visit in the afternoon.”
“Do you know what time that home visit was?” Jo enquired. Tension twisted in her belly.
He glanced down again. “Three o’clock. In Bracknell.”
Damn.
“Do you mind giving us your client’s details? I’m sorry, but we have to check ourselves.”
“Sure, but you’ve already met her. I was seeing Dessie’s daughter, Gail.”
Jo blinked. “You were her daughter’s social worker? Is that allowed?”
He chuckled like she was so silly. “We weren’t seeing each other then. Gail was having problems at school. Bullying, that sort of thing. She walked into the centre and asked for advice. I was there and we had a chat. That’s how I met Dessie.”
“Do you always follow up walk-ins with a home visit?” Jo asked.
He shrugged. “Sometimes, if the parents are open to it. In this case, Dessie was all for it. She was a single mother, overworked, and she was worried about her daughter. I went round there once or twice to see how Gail was getting on and to our mutual surprise, we hit it off. After Gail finished school, we started dating. It’s all completely above board.”
His open, sincere face gave nothing away. This guy had an answer for everything. She couldn't make him slip up.
“How old was Dessie’s daughter when you saw her?”
“She was sixteen. She’s at a drama school in London now. Doing quite well for herself.”
He smiled fondly.
Jo closed her file. “Well, thank you for talking to us, Mr Daley.”
He got up. “Let me show you out.”
At the door, Rob turned to him. “Just one last thing, Mr Daley. Where did you go to school?”
Jo watched his expression carefully. It didn’t change. “Gosh, that’s going back a while. Why do you ask?”
“For our records,” Rob said vaguely.
“St Thomas’s.” He smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’ve got them to thank for my ingrained Catholic guilt.”
Rob nodded. “Thank you. We’ll leave you in peace now.”
Daley saw them out, then watched from the doorway as they walked down the path to their vehicle.
52
“I know it’s him,” said Jo, the moment they got into the car.
Rob pulled away. “Did you recognise him? Was it Michael?”
“I didn’t think so at first, but the way he looked at me. I’m sure he recognised me.” She shivered. Those empty eyes. “And I don’t believe for a second he didn’t know those girls.”
“We can get a warrant for the charity’s phone line,” said Rob.
“Let’s do it. I’m sure he’s lying.”
“Tony said he’d be a loner,” said Rob. “Daley had a girlfriend. And he didn’t look socially inept to me.”
“Tony could be wrong.” She glanced at him. “Did you notice there was nothing personal in his living room. No photographs, no meaningful items, no paintings on the wall. Nothing.”
“I don’t have any paintings on my wall either. It doesn’t mean anything.”
She sighed, exasperated. “Your ex-wife took yours.”
He broke into a lopsided grin.
“The partner, the schoolteacher, could be a disguise, to throw us off.”
“Could be.”
She could tell he wasn’t convinced.
“Did you see how angry he got when I mentioned Angie Nolan? He couldn’t stand that he hadn’t helped her.”
Rob nodded. “I saw, but I was angry too. So were you.”
“I know, but that’s not the point. He was really angry; I could see it in his eyes.” She shook her head.
“We need to check out his alibi. Speak to Dessie,” said Rob.
“Of course, she’s going to vouch for him,” muttered Jo. “She’s his lover.”
Rob sighed. “He just didn’t strike me as a cold-blooded killer.”
“Maybe he’s not,” said Jo. “Maybe he’s a hot blooded one. He kills them because he can’t protect them any other way. That’s what Tony said, right?”
Rob was silent.
“I know it Rob. Trust me on this one. He’s our killer.”
“If you’re right,” said Rob, as he picked up speed on the motorway. “The evidence will lead us back to him.”
It didn’t.
Mallory and Jenny interviewed Daley’s partner, Dessie, who partially confirmed his alibi. “He was here for at least an hour, holed up with Gail in the study. I didn’t want to interrupt them.”
Was she sure of the date?
As sure as she could be. Paul kept meticulous notes, so if he said it was the fifteenth, then it was the fifteenth.
When Jenny checked with The Homestead, however, they confirmed the appointment. Daley was in Woking that afternoon and nowhere near Bagshot, where Angie was taken.
“What about the other disappearances?” asked Jo.
“We’ll have to bring him in if we’re going to go through all of them.” Rob glanced at the list of names on the whiteboard. “Question him under caution.”
“Let’s do it,” said Jo. She was out for blood. “If we rattle him enough, he might crack and confess.”
“He’s not going to confess,” said Rob. “He knows we’ve got nothing that’ll stick.”
Will made a whooping noise. “Yes! There’s a call from Elise Mitcham’s home phone to The Homestead helpline on the 2nd of March 2016.” He grinned like a madman. “Another link!”
Jo raced around to his side of the desk. “Show me.”
“Here it is. The call is highlighted in yellow.” He handed her the print-out.
“Is there a record of this call?”