Stacey nodded. ‘I certainly will, sir.’ She glanced at Jay. ‘We’re both quite worried about what’s going on.’

‘Have you considered paying a visit to Ratty?’

She nodded. ‘I asked the skip and we’re off to do that right now.’

‘And if indeed there are two of them, Ratty might have an alibi for when our new guy was making his nocturnal calls. If he does, you’ll know what you’re dealing with.’

Stacey stood up. ‘Thanks, sir. We’ll update you as we go.’

When the constables had gone, Marie said, ‘I don’t like the fact that the only things taken were photos of kids.’

‘Neither do I,’ Jackman said. ‘I wonder if it could be connected to the guy at the school gates.’

‘Well, this Welsh dragon should do some work, I guess,’ Marie said. ‘I’ll gather up Gary and we’ll hit the road.’

* * *

By four o’clock, Marie and Gary were back in the CID room. Having written their report on the afternoon’s enquiries, they were now going through the record of the Giles Bannon trial.

Half an hour or so later, Gary pushed the files aside. ‘Everything pointed to the husband, didn’t it?’

‘It did,’ Marie said, ‘but there wasn’t nearly as much actual evidence as I would have expected for a jury to come up with a guilty verdict. I’ll need to read this more thoroughly, but I’m starting to understand why he got his acquittal.’ She frowned. ‘Which is not to say I believe in his innocence, of course. We all know how a good lawyer can swing a case, but even so, a lot was missed the first time around.’

Gary nodded. ‘True, and as you say, it needs more than just a skim through to get a proper feel for it.’ He smiled at her. ‘Marie Evans, you look absolutely radiant.’

‘Fresh Welsh air, my mother’s cooking, copious wine, time away from the scrotes, sleeping the whole night through with no call-outs . . .’ She sighed contentedly. ‘What more could you ask for?’

‘I think you’ve left something out.’ Gary looked at her pointedly.

‘Oh? I don’t think so.’

‘A certain Fenchester detective?’

‘Ah, yes.’

‘And?’

‘And what?’ A flush stole up her cheeks.

‘Oh, come on, Sarge. Must I spell it out for you? Are you or aren’t you seeing him?’

‘Sort of.’

Gary threw up his hands. ‘You want to watch me beg, don’t you? All I need is a yes or no.’

She glanced around and lowered her voice. ‘Well, nosey, we had dinner before I went to Mum’s, and we talked pretty regularly while I was away . . . And if you must know, I’m seeing him tomorrow evening, caseloads allowing.’

‘That’s good, I’m glad to hear it.’ Gary beamed at her.

‘And if you recall, Gary Pritchard, you told me that if I took the plunge, you would too. So? Your turn.’

Gary shifted his chair closer. ‘I haven’t said anything because of the business with Robbie and Ella, and the last thing I want to do is rub salt in the wound.’ He coughed. ‘However, I did find the courage to ask a certain lady out for a drink, and we seemed to get on rather well. Early days, of course, but it’s nice to step away from the job for an hour or so.’