‘That was their mistake. Billy was talking, they knew that, but they didn’t know that it was only to be released after his death. Only Amelia and Billy knew that.’
‘And now they are both dead.’
Charlie nodded. ‘Billy must have spoken up about the video when he was being tortured, and so Amelia was the next target because she would know where they were.’
‘But isn’t there another problem?’ Donia said. ‘If they were sent yesterday, why hasn’t it been in the paper or on the television?’
‘I don’t know,’ Charlie said. ‘Perhaps the police suppressed them, and asked the press to hold it back.’ Then something occurred to him. His stomach started to roll, knowing that the reason for all of this was becoming clearer. ‘No, it’s not that,’ he said quietly. ‘Linda came in early this morning. She said she wasn’t up to date with her post, because of the burglary.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘The videos were never posted. They were left overnight in the office, because things got messed up, and whatever was on them must have been important, because it was for distribution only after his death.’
‘They might still be at the office,’ Donia said. ‘Everything closed down once the police had gone.’
Charlie shook his head. ‘No, because I’ll bet they were stolen.’
Donia looked confused. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
‘Did you know I spent the night in the office?’ Charlie said.
‘Yes, Linda mentioned that she thought you had. She said you’d done it before, and I think she told the police that.’
‘I didn’t see the letters when I woke up, and I think someone had been into the office,’ he said, although he realised that he couldn’t tell her the rest of the story, about the blood-stained knife.
‘So if the discs were taken, we’ll never know what Billy said.’
Charlie thought about that, and then said, ‘There will be a master copy somewhere.’ When Donia looked up, he added, ‘It’s probably in the safe.’
‘That might have been taken too.’
‘Yes, it might, but it is worth checking out.’
‘When shall we go?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘No, you’ve taken enough risks getting me this. I need to get it on my own.’
As he thought of that, he felt sweat flash across his forehead. What could be on that video that someone would be prepared to kill for it, and would he be the next target?
Sheldon drove towards Penwortham, a suburb on the edge of Preston, once the county’s largest cotton town, but its history now obliterated by retail parks and an identikit city centre, with just a university to provide a buzz. Penwortham was not far from the police headquarters, where it fashioned itself as a sleepy area on the other side of the River Ribble, the vibe being delicatessens and cyclists and tree-lined avenues. Sheldon and Ted were following the lead from the telephone call that Christina was really Lucy Crane, and had lived in a care home there.
Ted had been quiet most of the way, but as they got to the final part of the journey, he said, ‘What are you hoping to find when you get there?’
Sheldon thought about that as he looked down the hill ahead, and replied, ‘Just confirmation about the woman who pretended to be Billy’s housekeeper.’
‘And you think it will help, knowing that?’
‘It will be more than what we have now.’
They crossed the wide river that separated Preston from Penwortham and then headed past shops and more takeaways before they turned off at the police station, a low-rise red brick building on a corner waiting to be sold, a victim of the cutbacks. After fifty yards or so further on, they came to a double-fronted detached house in dirty white pebble-dash. As they came to a stop, there were three teenagers sitting on the front step, smoking cigarettes. They started to laugh as Sheldon led the way.
‘Your clothes don’t fit, man,’ one of them said to Sheldon, making the other two laugh more loudly than the jibe deserved.
Sheldon smiled at them. ‘Who’s in charge in there?’ he said, and pointed towards the house.
‘We are.’ More laughter. ‘No, I’m serious.’
Sheldon rolled his eyes and stepped past them, going through the front door, Ted behind him. As they crossed the threshold, the same teenager shouted, ‘Marian?’
A large woman appeared from a room at the end of the hall. The kitchen, Sheldon guessed. She had hair cropped short, dyed purple, and a stud in her nose, although it didn’t match the lines round her mouth that put her somewhere near to fifty.
‘Can I help you?’ she said, stepping towards them.
Sheldon pulled his identification from his pocket. ‘From Oulton police.’
‘You don’t look like the police,’ she said, looking at his clothes. And then she pointed at Ted Kenyon. ‘I know you.’
‘It’s a long story,’ Sheldon said, interrupting. ‘I want to ask you about Lucy Crane.’
She looked confused for a moment, and then her eyes widened. ‘I haven’t heard that name for a long time. You need to update your records if you think she’s here though. She left, oh, three years or more.’
‘Tell me about her.’
She looked suspicious. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘It could be important,’ Sheldon said. ‘I don’t want to see her records. I just want to know about her.’
Marian thought about that, and then she nodded them through to the kitchen. It was wide and spacious, with plates piled high on the side, waiting for their turn in the dishwasher.
‘So I’ll ask again; why do you want to know?’ Marian said, as she hauled herself onto a high stool next to a breakfast bar.
‘I can’t tell you that.’
‘So I can’t tell you about Lucy,’ she said, and shrugged, her hands held out.
Sheldon had expected that, but he thought it was worth trying for information without giving anything away.
‘It’s about the Billy Privett murder,’ Sheldon said. ‘She might have some useful information.’
Marian pointed at Ted. ‘Now I know you. You’re Alice Kenyon’s father.’
Ted smiled, trying to win her over. ‘This could be important. Please help us.’
Marian looked at Sheldon, and then back at Ted. Then she softened. ‘She was trouble.’
‘Aren’t they all?’ Sheldon said.
‘Most are
‘But?’
Marian smiled. She knew the
‘And Lucy?’
‘Lucy, well,’ and Marian laughed. ‘She was all about sex. I tried not to judge her, because I knew the background she brought into the home, from her family background, and I am sure as hell not going to tell you, but she was good looking, and she knew it gave her a weapon. She developed early, and she used what she had to get what she wanted. I think she realised that her looks would take her further than her academic skills, and so she would flaunt it. There was even a care worker who lost his job over her, who forgot where the line was when she came at him fresh from the shower. She just wanted him to let her go out drinking, but she had to persuade him. Someone walked in on him groping her, but she was on her back, letting him touch her.’ Marian shook her head. ‘He
