‘I really don’t think she’d be an admissible witness, boss. Any defence brief would eat her for breakfast.’ Holly had jumped in again. Joe wondered if she was resenting the fact that her witness had been taken away from her, though he knew Holly would have little patience with Susan, who was old and confused.

Vera kept her voice mild. ‘At this point I’m not worrying about the court case, Hol. I just want to know who killed these two women.’

When Joe arrived home the kids were looking out for him. Sal’s parents had taken them to see a panto at Whitley Bay Playhouse and the two oldest were full of it. Michael had been onstage and a clown had pulled a live rabbit from his ear. They were full of wonder, even Jessie, who claimed that she was a bit old for magic these days. He wondered how he would cope with her as a teenager, stroppy and defensive, and remembered again the schoolgirls he’d seen in the Metro on the afternoon Margaret Krukowski had died. Simpering and playing up to the boys. It was hard to imagine that they’d ever been excited by a pantomime.

In bed, he found it difficult to sleep. He was planning how he might carry out Vera’s instructions to get Susan Coulson away from the Haven. He’d been intimidated by Jane Cameron, and he could hardly kidnap the woman. And something about the picture of the older woman, her eyes streaming with silent tears, seemed very moving to him. He wasn’t sure now if she was weeping for Margaret Krukowski or for the child that had been taken away from her. Later he replayed his conversation with Michael Craggs, anxious because he felt that he’d missed something important. The last image in his mind, just before he slept, was of the elderly couple leaning over their garden gate, their arms around each other and waving goodbye to him.

When he woke, it came to him, almost as part of a dream, that he hadn’t passed the photo album on to Vera.

Chapter Thirty-One

The next day was clear and frosty and Vera was in Mardle before it got light. It felt like truancy. She should be in her office coordinating the actions, supervising. An inspector’s role was strategic. Except that she’d always been seduced by the detail. She told herself she’d be back at the station before lunchtime. It was time to reel in Malcolm Kerr. He’d been playing silly buggers with her, and she hated being taken for a fool.