“What do you mean?”

“I mean they’ll go through your flat with the proverbial fine-tooth comb, and if there’s any evidence of wrongdoing, even a drop of Luke’s blood, they’ll find it.”

“He’s right,” Annie said. “There’s the poker, for a start. I noticed it when we were talking to you. You don’t see them very often these days. If there’s any trace of Luke’s blood or hair on it, we’ll find it. And if there are any traces on the carpet, between the floorboards, down the sink, we’ll find them.”

Liz crossed her arms and bit her lip. Annie could tell she’d touched a nerve. What was it? The mention of blood? Did Liz know they’d find traces of Luke’s blood in the flat? “What is it, Liz?” she asked. “Something to tell me?”

Liz shook her head.

“Ryan’s being interviewed just next door,” Templeton said. “I’ll bet he’s telling them it was all your fault, that you killed Luke and he had to get rid of the body for you.”

“Ryan wouldn’t do that.”

“Even if it were true?” Annie asked.

“But it’s not true. We didn’t kill anyone. How many times do I have to tell you?”

“Until we believe you,” Annie said. “And until you come up with a satisfactory explanation of how Luke’s bag got into your cupboard.”

“I don’t know.”

“What about the ransom demands?”

“What about them?”

“Whose idea was that? Was it Ryan’s? Did he see it as an easy opportunity to make some money now that Luke was dead anyway? Or did he do it to confuse us?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Annie stood up and Templeton followed suit. “Right,” Annie said, switching off the tapes. “I’m fed up of this. Have her taken to the custody suite, Kev, and arrange for the taking of intimate samples. Maybe we’ll be lucky and get a DNA match with the blood on the wall. And get a search warrant. We’ll have forensics in her flat within an hour. Then we’ll talk to the super and find out what Ryan had to say for himself.”

“Right, ma’m,” said Templeton.

“And don’t bloody call me ma’m,” Annie added under her breath.

Liz stood up. “You can’t do this! You can’t keep me here.”

“Just watch us,” said Annie.

Banks tapped on his parents’ front door and walked in. It was early evening, and he had plenty of time to spare before his nine o’clock meeting with Michelle. His parents had finished washing the dishes and were settling down to watch Coronation Street, just as they had all those years ago, the night the police came to call about Graham, the night Joey flew away.

“It’s all right, don’t get up,” Banks said to his mother. “I’m not stopping long. I have to go out. I just came by to drop off my overnight bag first.”

“You’ll have a cup of tea, though, won’t you, dear?” his mother insisted.

“Maybe he wants something stronger,” his father suggested.