‘The children are safe. They’re being taken to Michael’s parents. There’s a social worker there and you’re not to worry. DI Bradley’s also asked me to assure you that your dog’ll be taken care of. Officers are going to search your son-in-law’s home now and they’ll make sure Izzy has a safe place to stay. Mr O’Neill’s denying all responsibility or knowledge.’

I nodded.

‘Can you think of anywhere that might mean something to Michael? Does he own any other property? Have any storage units? A work space to which only he has access?’

I shook my head. ‘Not that I know of. I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘There are some old outhouses at the farmyard still.’

‘Police have been searching those,’ she said. ‘They’ve not uncovered anything out of the ordinary.’ She glanced down at her notes. ‘And his silver Avensis, the Toyota. Is that his only vehicle that you know of?’

I nodded. ‘He kept hold of Laura’s car, but then … well, he gave it to Aaron.’

I saw her eyebrows rise. ‘And what kind of car was that?’

I tried to remember. It was red, I knew that much. A Renault, I thought.

‘I don’t know the registration,’ I said. ‘But it was a Renault.’

‘Any idea of the model?’ she asked.

I shook my head. ‘Only that it was a saloon car, not a hatchback. And red.’

‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘The more information we have, the better our chances at getting to Rachel Walker. We’ve had a witness come forward who believes she may have seen Rachel with a man who wasn’t her husband. She’s given a description of his car.’

I nodded. ‘And you said you’d found a link between Michael and Rachel?’

‘We’ve found that Michael was taking a class at the NWRC in creative writing, which Rachel Walker tutored on a Thursday night. Were you aware of that?’

I paused for a moment. That didn’t add up. On Thursday nights, Michael went to a bereavement support group. He never missed it. It was specifically for people who’d been bereaved by suicide. I told Constable King this, gave her what details I could remember.

‘He’d even asked me to go with him a few times,’ I said, more confused than ever. ‘He said he thought it might help me.’

‘If you’ll excuse me again, I’ll just phone in this new information,’ Constable King said and left the room.

‘You look worn out,’ Cliona said to me. ‘I think you should take a break.’

‘But I’d never forgive myself,’ I said, ‘if that poor woman’s dead and it’s because of my stupidity. I’ll never forgive myself.’

Chapter Fifty-Two

Rachel