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Chapters (60)
  1. CRITICAL ACCLAIM FOR LEIGH RUSSELL
  2. Glossary of acronyms
  3. Prologue
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. 53
  57. 54
  58. 55
  59. 56
  60. Acknowledgements

She found Charlotte Stephens at home. She was younger than Alyson, with chestnut hair and sharp brown eyes, and she too claimed not to have known David Armstrong. She said she had attended the public meetings more for the excursion than as a serious protest.

‘I think it’s shocking the way the council is forcing all these cutbacks,’ she told Geraldine. ‘It’s so important to be well informed, and of course once you discover what’s going on, I mean really going on, you have to express your opinion about it, don’t you? You can’t just sit around and keep silent when you disagree with what the politicians are doing. But Rod is right, it’s the government we should be targeting, not the local councillors. I tried telling Jonathan, but he insisted we start at the local level. “Why don’t we campaign against our local MP then?” I asked him, but he was set on targeting the leader of the council. I mean, he had a point, but I still think canvassing our MP would have made better sense. And it didn’t have to be one or the other, did it? We could have gone for both. And now that poor man’s dead.’ She sighed. ‘I wonder who Jonathan will be gunning for next.’

Geraldine thought that an unfortunate turn of phrase under the circumstances, but it seemed to confirm that Charlotte didn’t know David Armstrong had been murdered.

28

28

A year before Daisy was born, one of Jessica’s neighbours had reported a disturbance at her house. After reading the report through carefully, several times, Geraldine set off to question the neighbour who had since moved to Leeds. The door was opened by a robust middle-aged woman.

‘Are you looking for my daughter?’ she asked, ‘only she doesn’t live with us any more. She’s married now,’ she added with a complacent smile. ‘A lovely man –’

Geraldine interrupted her. ‘I’m looking for Mrs Alice Whittaker.’

‘That’s me,’ the woman replied, clearly surprised.

‘I’d like to ask you a few questions about a former neighbour of yours. If you can spare a few minutes, I’d really appreciate your time, Mrs Whittaker.’

‘Are you the police?’

‘Yes.’ Geraldine held up her identity card, and the woman squinted at it.

‘I’m afraid I’m blind as a bat without my reading glasses, but, oh well, if you are who you say you are, you’d better come in. And please, call me Alice.’

Geraldine explained the reason for her visit and Alice nodded. ‘Yes, yes, of course I remember,’ she said. ‘They were at it all the time. One evening I phoned your lot, because they were making a hell of a din. Honestly, I really thought he was going to kill her that time.’

‘That time?’ Geraldine repeated, keeping her expression impassive. ‘How many times did you hear them fighting?’