“He was like a myth, you know?” she went on. “My Shirl told me she’d met him once and I was properly worried. I didn’t want her near him. We was the sort of people that Harry Rawlins would use up and spit out. I mean, those poor men who got blown up in the armed raid were meant to be his friends and he left them behind quick enough. Just imagine what he’d do to someone he didn’t care about. I’m really sorry, I’m just guessing what you might want to hear. I don’t know him.”

In the short silence that followed, Laura, listening from outside, racked her brains trying to think how Harry Rawlins might be linked to their current investigation. But then Jack had followed the Fishers as a lead when no one else made a connection, so perhaps Harry Rawlins was integral in some way.

“What family does Harry have?” Jack kept his voice monotone.

“I don’t know anything about Harry’s family,” insisted Audrey.

Jack moved to lean on the wall near the foot of her bed.

“You do know,” he continued coldly. “Think about it and you’ll remember. Harry Rawlins must have had family. Cousins, nephews. He’d have had a crew that he always used. Who hung around in that group?” Audrey’s gormless face was starting to annoy him. “Think, Audrey!”

“I dunno. I’m sorry that I don’t, but I don’t.”

Laura heard a movement from inside the cell and before she’d made a conscious decision, she had opened the door. Jack was now standing next to Audrey and she was leaning away from him.

Laura spoke quickly. “We’re done.”

Jack walked off, leaving Laura to thank the custody sergeant for his discretion. When she caught him up, she had to physically grab his arm to make him stop and listen to her.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you, Jack, but . . . Look, I’m on your side but this isn’t you. You’re acting like you have another agenda that you’re not telling anyone about. You can talk to me, you know.”

“I’m really sorry, Laura. I just spent yesterday clearing Dad’s cottage ready for sale and . . .”

Jack dipped his head in shame. He was actually using his dying dad as a lie to explain away his unprofessional behavior. Laura interpreted the head-dip as sadness and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Go home,” she said. “I’ll cover for you with Ridley.”

Jack put his hand on top of hers and stroked his thumb back and forth. He looked into her dark blue eyes and told her how grateful he was. He couldn’t find the will to care about her feelings at all. All he wanted was to find out whether Harry Rawlins was his dad and if those fucking Grange women had committed the biggest train robbery in living memory.

Knowing these two things would make everything fall into place. Then, for the first time in his life, maybe he’d feel whole.