Gavin nodded but didn’t say anything in response, as he sat in silence, slowly massaging his stump with his left hand.

Kesey sat herself down with her interviewee on the other side of the table. ‘Can I get you a tea or coffee before we make a start? It’s no bother if you fancy one. The kitchen’s only a couple of doors down.’

He shook his head stiffly, wincing slightly with each movement of his body. ‘I’m good, thanks, I’d rather get this over with.’

The detective smiled warmly, opening her pocketbook at the appropriate page. ‘Okay, straight to the point, I like that. Let’s start with your full name, address and contact details.’ Gavin provided the information as requested.

Kesey tapped the tip of her biro on the table. She felt sure this broken man wouldn’t be there if his information weren’t important. She was desperately hoping that he may provide the break she so badly needed. ‘Right, Sandra on the front desk tells me you have some information relating to Lottie Weller, the missing child. I’d be pleased to hear anything you have to tell me.’

Gavin continued massaging what was left of his right leg, as if he hoped the physical stimulation might help it grow back, returning him to the adventures of his youth before time blunted his edges. ‘As I said, I live in Picton Street; I bought the place after my discharge. I had a few quid compensation after a medical cock-up.’

Kesey nodded her understanding as she waited for him to continue.

‘I don’t know the Wellers personally, but I’ve seen them about. The little girl always smiles and says hello when she sees me in the street. And the mother’s friendly enough for an office type, she’s not like some of the stuck-up tossers I’ve got as neighbours. At least she speaks to me. That’s more than some of them do.’

‘Are you aware that Lottie hasn’t been seen since the nineteenth of this month?’

He frowned hard and stopped massaging his knee for a moment before starting again. ‘Yeah, a mate of mine told me all about it when he visited me in hospital. I’d have been in touch sooner, but I was out of it for most of my stay and couldn’t have given you a helpful account. I was only discharged this morning. I think they must have needed the bed.’

‘So, what have you got to tell me?’

‘I was awake that night, the nineteenth. I’m in a lot of pain a lot of the time. I take a great many pain killers, morphine, oxycontin, and the like, enough to kill most people. Even diamorphine on occasions when things are particularly bad.’ He pointed to the stump. ‘Your body gets used to that shit, that’s the problem. It’s all the doctors can offer me, and it seems to do fuck all.’

‘Did you see something that night? Something I need to be aware of?’

He nodded, focusing back on the case. ‘Yeah, I did. After the police drove off, I couldn’t sleep so I was just sitting in a chair looking out of the bedroom window at the front of the house, listening to Bowie on my CD player and smoking a few fags. It’s something I do to pass the time. I see foxes sometimes poking about in the bins. The cheeky bastards think they own the place. It’s amazing how nature can adapt.’