‘You’re what?’ she spluttered. ‘Are you out of your fucking mind, you bitch?’ asked the caring mother, squinting her eyes at the WPC and forgetting to watch her language now that the cards were on the table. ‘Kevin? My Kevin? What the fuck do you think he’s got to do with that kid’s death? He might be a little shit, but he’s a good lad,’ she said, ignoring the contradiction of her own words.

‘Mrs Milne. I have a search warrant and I would like to take Kevin to the station.’

‘Over my dead fucking body!’ shouted Kate Milne, lunging for Sam, just as Williams moved in front of her.

‘Now, now, Kate,’ he said, ‘there’s no need for that. I’m sure you’d like this cleared up just as we would, so come along, love, let’s get your son and we’ll get things moving.’

Kevin’s mother thought about the situation for a moment before turning round. ‘Kevin! Get your arse in here, you little shit! What the fuck you been up to now? Did you nick something off that dead kid? Did you?’ She didn’t wait for him to appear before she started screaming the questions. Sam watched as a door slowly opened and a young boy stepped out. Kevin Milne stood in the doorway, his messy dark hair falling into his eyes, running his baseball cap through his hands and looking down. Sam had to check. On automatic pilot she took the cap from his hands and placed it on his head, and then with both hands she pulled his hood up over it.

PC Williams stepped back as the boy from the CCTV footage looked him in the eyes. It was a look that left no doubt.

Kevin Milne, aged ten, had taken Matthew Michael Cook.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

DI Davies was leaning against the car looking anxious, an ever-present cigarette hanging from his lips. Sam was relieved to see the boss there.

‘Any luck?’ he asked. She nodded and motioned her head back towards the high-rise entrance. PC Williams, Kate and Kevin Milne stood in the hallway waiting for the signal that it was all clear. Sam had come out first to check that the route was free of the press and that the bin men had finished their work and gone on to the next estate.

The fourth estate might have been missing, but the route was still far from clear. Mothers were now walking their children to school. The numbers of dutiful parents doing the school run had increased since Matthew’s disappearance. Although a police car in Shank Town was not an unusual occurrence, it was still noted, and anxious glances passed between the car and the officer hanging back with the Milnes in the foyer. The family were well known in the estate–not the worst, but far from being respectable.