Jack came back into the living room and started to gather up the scattered papers and photos and put them back into the file. He looked dejected.

“Don’t worry, love, you’ll find him without her,” Maggie reassured him, and went back into the kitchen to dish up their dinner.

Chapter 6

Jack was first in the squad room the next day. Not because he was being keen; he just hadn’t slept well after the dead-end phone call with his Aunt Fran. He was frustrated by her apparent indifference to his request for help, and it had made him suspect she might have something to hide. For the first time in a long time, he’d had a “copper’s hunch,” and now he was more determined than ever to find out more about Jimmy Nunn. But he’d have to be careful: if Ridley thought he was slacking, he wouldn’t hesitate to send him back to Devon.

By the time Ridley and the others walked in, the evidence board displayed photos of all the women from The Grange along with notes to date.

“Dolly Rawlins . . .” Jack started as they all settled to their desks. “Murdered in 1995 by Ester Freeman. Freeman was released in 2017 and now lives on the Isle of Wight with a guy called Geoffrey Porter-Lewis, a retired solicitor. No record. Kathleen O’Reilly died from alcoholism and Gloria Radford died in a car crash, along with her husband, Eddie. Connie Stephens had a B&B in Taunton, but I’m not sure that she has any more. The tax office has got an old address for her, as has the Licensing Authority, Building Inspectors, local fire safety assessors and so on. I’ll keep looking. Nothing on Julia Lawson and Angela Dunn as yet.”

Ridley looked at Jack, clearly hoping he had more to say—and in that split second, Jack went from being pleased with himself to being deeply disappointed. Ridley could do that with a single look—like a parent who is used to being let down.

“Right,” he said, “tomorrow I want you in the Isle of Wight . . .” He paused. “Seeing as Freeman’s the only lead you’ve got.”

Jack winced, sat down and the floor was handed to Anik.

“Did you know, sir, that we don’t actually know where around five hundred of our community-based sex offenders are?” Anik sounded like he was about to give a lecture on police shortcomings. “They’re meant to stay at the halfway houses we put them in and . . . well, they don’t.”

“We’ll tackle that disgraceful statistic another day, Anik. For now, let’s hear what we do know rather than what we don’t.”

“Yes, sir. I’m working through a list of 45 sex offenders from the Aylesbury area and—”

“What do you mean by ‘I’m working through’?” Ridley asked. Anik clearly didn’t understand the question. “Get on to the Vulnerable Persons’ Unit and ask for a couple of PCs to do the donkey work for you. You take what they report and collate it into a document that we can use.”