I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY. THIS IS NOT SOMETHING I EVER WANTED TO WRITE BUT THIS IS NOT SOMETHING I EVER WANTED TO HAPPEN. CALLIE … I CAN’T COPE WITH IT, ANY OF IT. I FEEL LIKE I’M IN PAIN EVERY MINUTE OF EVERY DAY AND NOTHING TOUCHES IT.

I HURT SOMEONE. IT WOULD NEVER HAVE HAPPENED IF SHE HAD DONE WHAT SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO. FOR US. FOR CALLIE.

WHEN I FOUND HER SHE WAS SOMEWHERE ELSE IN SITTINGBOURNE, WORKING SOMETHING ELSE. OUR DAUGHTER HAS BEEN FORGOTTEN.

I ONLY WENT THERE FOR SOME ANSWERS. I’M SO SORRY. I CAN’T CONTROL ANYTHING ANYMORE, THE DRINK, MY FAMILY LIFE, MY ANGER. I DON’T EVEN RECOGNISE MYSELF SOMETIMES.

I DIDN’T MEAN TO HURT HER.

I KNOW YOU’LL UNDERSTAND ONE DAY. WHATEVER THEY ALL SAY ABOUT ME, REMEMBER THAT YOU KNOW ME AND YOU KNOW THE PRESSURE I’VE BEEN UNDER. IT JUST GOT TOO MUCH.

I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO SAY TO JAMIE. I’M SORRY, TELL HIM THAT. TELL HIM TO BE GOOD! JUST TALK TO HIM, YOU’VE ALWAYS BEEN BETTER AT THAT THAN ME ANYWAY.

HE DESERVES BETTER. YOU ALL DO.

EVERYTHING I DID, IT WAS ALL FOR YOU. I LOVE YOU ALL MORE THAN YOU’LL EVER UNDERSTAND.

DANNY XXX

‘Danny?’ Joel said.

‘Danny Evans,’ the lad who’d handed him the note said.

‘You know him?’

‘A lot of people do, sir. He’s a bit of a local celeb. Was captain for Dover Athletic for a long time. Played for the Gills too for a couple of seasons.’

‘I see.’

‘You OK?’ the sergeant asked now. Joel was rubbing at his face, his eyes desperately hunting round the room.

‘I can’t make up my mind if I’m fantastic or fucked. Does that answer your question?’ Joel took in the shock on the sergeant’s face and was quick to apologise.

‘Sorry. Barely a day into a murder investigation and this might be the resolution dropping into my lap …’

‘Or …’ the sergeant prompted.

‘Or it just got a lot more complicated.’ Joel didn’t know how to feel; his lack of experience felt like it was on show for the first time. ‘We just need to process the scene like normal. I’ll worry about the links to my other job later.’ He was talking out loud but he was coaching himself.

‘Understood.’

‘Where did he leave the note?’ Joel said.

One of the PCs in uniform pointed to a chair that had been spun out to face them from under the window. ‘On the chair. I got a picture of it in situ. His mobile phone was on the chair too. It was switched off. I’ve bagged that up too …’ Joel paced over to the chair. He laid the note back where it was. ‘Should I not have done that?’