“Was he OK, Mags? Does he sound OK? He looks pale, doesn’t he?”

Maggie knew she didn’t need to say anything more and just rubbed his back as he flicked through more terribly framed selfies.

“He’s having a wonderful time, Jack. He said feels fine—gets tired more quickly, but they slow down after lunch and Penny plans each day to include a nap, so they don’t miss out on any of the evening cabaret shows.”

“I should have been here.” Jack thumped the table. “Was Mum angry? I bet she was. I’m going to stop looking for Jimmy Nunn, Mags. It’s making me miss the here and now and I can’t get any of this back. I can’t get that Skype call back.” He slumped down into the chair. “Tell me what they said again.”

Maggie put Penny’s photos on “slide show” and then relayed the Skype call, word for word. When she’d finished, she said, “I’ll go on up to bed. You come up when you’re ready.”

As she left the room, she looked back to see him staring intently at the screen as the slide show went round and round.

Chapter 18

By morning, Jack’s guilt had been replaced by an irrepressible sense of excitement at discovering a possible connection between Ester Freeman, Angela Dunn and Mike Withey. If they were linked, then the decades were linked—which suggested that the crimes could also be linked. The fact that he could now trace Ester and Angela’s relationship back as far as the 1980s wasn’t particularly relevant to their current investigation; but if Angela knew Mike—that was a game-changer. It might even put them in the same place at the time of the train robbery.

When Angela Dunn opened the door, she looked startled.

“Oh!” she said. “You!” She recovered herself. “Come in.”

It took her twice as long to make the tea as it had the last time, as if she was giving herself time to think.

“I’m making a dress today,” she said as she led the way back into her sitting room.

She held it up for Jack to admire. It was stunning, if on the large side. For some reason he thought of Connie; she’d look fabulous in it.

“What can I do for you?” Angela asked, as she poured the tea.

“Further inquiries have raised a few more questions, if you don’t mind, Mrs. Dunn.”

Angela smiled and waved a hand. “Such as?”

Jack jumped in. “Do you know Mike Withey?”

“No.”

The answer was so quick and confident that, for a moment, Jack thought he’d got it all wrong. But then it was odd she hadn’t asked who Mike Withey was. Jack decided to trust his newly developed “gut.”

“I think you might know him, Mrs. Dunn—although maybe you’ve forgotten? It was a long time ago. Do you recall working for Ester Freeman at The Grange?”

“I wasn’t a prostitute!” Angela snapped. “Is that what you’ve come here to ask me?”

“Not at all.” Jack widened his eyes. “I know you were a maid. But I know that, on one occasion, you were arrested along with everyone else and I know that PC Withey, as he was back then . . . looked after you.”