‘There’s a whole team of experienced officers behind this.’ Molly forced a smile. ‘Why don’t you take off your coat and have a seat? It’s a bit warm in here, don’t you think?’
The smell of fresh sweat rose in the air as Julie hung her coat on the back of the chair. Taking a tissue from her pocket, she blotted her brow. ‘I came here on the train. Makes me anxious, it does, mixing with all those people, with all these viruses hanging around,’ she said, by means of explanation. ‘I’m not used to public transport, or police stations for that matter. I didn’t sleep a wink last night.’
Molly’s feelings towards the woman softened. Her own mother rarely used public transport; it brought her out in a cold sweat too. ‘Can I get you anything?’ Molly smiled. ‘A drink of water? A cup of tea? It’s vending machine brew, I’m afraid, but better than nothing.’
‘Very kind of you to offer, but I’ve just had three in the cafe up the road.’ Julie’s face relaxed, at last, a hint of gratitude curling her lips into an almost-smile. ‘I was early,’ she said, by means of explanation. ‘And I needed the loo.’
I’m not surprised, after three cups of tea, Molly thought, watching Julie rifle in her handbag.
‘You don’t mind if I give the table a clean before we start, do you?’ She proceeded to pull out an anti-bacterial wipe from a pack. Giving the table a good rub, she threw the dirty wipe in the bin. ‘Would you like some?’ she said, taking a small bottle of hand sanitizer gel from her bag.
‘Sure,’ Molly said, as much to reassure her as anything. Her team were well versed in hand washing and hygiene these days. She rubbed her hands together as the blob of disinfectant alerted her to every papercut. At least the room smelt better, and Julie was a little more relaxed.
Molly checked her watch. Time was limited, and she had so much to be getting on with. As soon as one tasking was ticked on the system, three more were lined up to take its place. She went on to explain how their team worked, what various officers did and to patiently answer Julie’s questions. Little progress had been made by Brighton CID, which was buried in work when the murder came in. But it was better to say that updates would be forthcoming when they could release them.
‘I know you’ve given a statement,’ Molly continued. ‘But we like to hear from family first-hand. What was your brother like?’
‘There was only a year between us and he was a rascal when he was young.’ Julie rested her hands on her bag, which was now placed on her lap. ‘But he grew into a good man. I got married, had kids . . . did all the normal things. My brother and I grew apart. He got in touch shortly after my Bertie died.’ She imparted a sad smile. ‘He was my husband. He passed not long ago.’
‘Sorry to hear that,’ Molly said, touched by the sorrow in her words.
‘Don’t be, love,’ Julie replied. ‘It was a long illness. He welcomed death in the end.’
Molly shuffled her paperwork. She’d had a dance with death in the past. It was no stranger to her. She glanced down at the copy of Julie’s statement which she had printed off. ‘So he came to visit just over a week ago?’
‘That’s right,’ Julie replied. She must have caught the sympathy in Molly’s eyes as she tilted her head to one side. ‘I’m OK, I have friends. I go bowling and to the bingo. I’m not lonely.’
Molly was glad to hear it. Loneliness was the worst feeling in the world. ‘How did he seem when he turned up?’
‘Quiet. I tried to encourage him to come out, but he didn’t want to meet my friends.’
‘Did he say why that was?’
‘Only that he was tired and wanted to rest in his room. I thought, why come all this way to see me if he didn’t want to explore what Brighton has to offer? It’s such a lovely place, you know, have you ever been? It has something for everyone.’ Her face was brighter now as she spoke of home.
‘So he didn’t go out during the day?’ Molly tried to keep her interviewee on track. She had never been to Brighton. She had never even been anywhere much, really.
‘No. I asked Martin if he was in trouble, and he laughed, saying I was watching too much Midsomer Murders on TV.’
Molly reined in her smile. ‘You said he walked the dog that night, and you knew something was wrong when . . .’ Molly’s eyes dropped to her paperwork as she searched for the dog’s name. ‘Trixie was scratching at your door.’
A flame ignited in Julie’s eyes. She became animated as she spoke about her pet, and how upset she’d been when she returned home alone. ‘Anything could have happened to her. I was so angry with Martin for losing my little girl like that.’
But he hadn’t lost her. He had died. It was interesting to note that Julie was a lot more upset about her dog than her brother. Martin may have given a lot to his community, but he was coming across as a man who grew to prefer his own company. From what Molly had heard from DI Winter, their previous victim had grown distant too. He used to sleep in the computer room, Molly remembered her saying. Several items had been seized to try to build a picture of the victims’ movements prior to their deaths. There was also something DI Winter had said when she came to the office this morning: that the victims might not be as innocent as they seemed. She had yet to elaborate, but Molly knew DI Winter had her sources, and would share the information when the time was right.
A thought occurred to her.
‘Did Martin have a laptop,
