‘Last night.’ Jodie could see where he was going. Flynn had said he liked her being needy. Perhaps he had made her life a nightmare to cast himself as the white knight who would run to her rescue and protect her. ‘I was so angry and upset that he’d lied to me, I let him come here as planned, then didn’t answer the door or his calls.’

Doyle looked over to where the package still sat. ‘Looks like he got his revenge then, doesn’t it?’

The image of the mouse with its head chopped off, so neatly wrapped in the blue tissue paper, was seared into Jodie’s mind. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘it looks as if he did.’

26

‘Tell me everything you know about this man Flynn,’ PC Doyle said, taking out his notebook.

Jodie shook the image of the decapitated mouse from her head with difficulty. ‘I only knew him for such a short time, and by the looks of things I didn’t really know him at all.’

‘Start with his full name, where you met him etc.’

It didn’t take long… there was little to tell.

‘Kingsman Street, Woolwich,’ Doyle repeated, looking at his notebook. ‘That’s it? No apartment name or number.’ He frowned as she shook her head. ‘There are hundreds of apartment blocks along that street.’ He tapped the notebook against his hand. ‘He told you he was a sales rep for London Medical–’

‘I had no reason to doubt him, did I?’

‘No, but was he lying simply to con you or was this something he’d been doing for a while and if so, to what end?’

‘He had business cards, they were hardly done simply to fool me.’

‘Possibly not. Do you still have it?’

‘No, that sales manager – Graham Barker – he kept it. I have his card though.’ She stood and went into the hall to pick up her bag, scrabbling inside it as she returned to the table. ‘Here you go.’ She handed the card over and sat. ‘And I have Flynn’s phone number, of course.’

‘Okay.’ Doyle looked up, his pen resting on the page of his notebook. ‘What is it?’

Jodie had deleted the details from her phone but the number had stuck in her head like an irritating splinter and she reeled it out without hesitation. ‘What happens now?’

‘We’ll have a word with Mr Douglas, see what his game is. If he did leave the packages, he might admit what he did but he might not.’ He looked towards the draining board. ‘We’ll take that one with us and have it checked for fingerprints.’ Doyle looked to his colleague. ‘I think that’s about it for the moment, unless you can think of anything, PC Grant.’

‘No, except we’ll need to take Ms Armstrong’s fingerprints for elimination purposes.’ Grant stood and tilted his head at the door. ‘I’ll go and get the mobile scanner.’