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they all thought about what Rory had said.

‘That’s what I can’t get out of my mind,’ Matilda said. ‘The crime scene is too perfect. It was deliberately staged to tell us something.’

‘Tell us what?’

‘If we knew that, Rory, we wouldn’t be asking the question.’

‘Ma’am,’ Sian said. ‘That was forensics. They’ve got the results back from the knives they took from the kitchen. One of the carving knives had traces of blood in the gap between the handle and the blade. It matches Ryan Asher’s blood.’

‘So the killer thought he’d washed the knife thoroughly before putting it back,’ Matilda said. ‘At least we now have our murder weapon. Something else to ask the staff – who has access to the kitchen?’

TWENTY-TWO

Ryan Asher’s former home was in a quiet leafy street just outside the centre of Norwich. Semi-detached houses lined both sides of the road. They all had neatly tended front gardens, driveways, and garages. It was an archetypal English suburb.

Scott pulled up outside number forty-two and turned off the engine. Both he and Faith looked up at the nondescript home.

‘Nice house,’ he commented.

‘Yes. It looks like a nice area to grow up in, doesn’t it? Quiet, private. I wonder what happened here to make Ryan commit such an evil crime?’

‘You sound like Rory. I had him on the phone last night quizzing me about what makes a child kill.’

‘What did you say?’

‘I told him I’ve no idea. My degree is in English, not psychology.’

‘Come on then, we’ve got a busy day ahead.’

Scott rang the doorbell and stood back. Looking around, the majority of the houses seemed empty, as were the driveways. Most of the residents would probably be at work and school. A burglar’s paradise.

The front door was opened by a small woman in her mid-forties. Her hair was dull and lifeless which matched her skin and her dress sense. She had the expression of a woman who had given up on life and had nobody to neaten herself up for.

‘Julia Palmer?’ Scott asked.

‘It depends who wants to know. If you’re press, you can piss off.’

Scott and Faith both showed their ID. ‘I’m DC Andrews and this is DC Easter. We’re from South Yorkshire Police. Would it be possible for us to have a word?’

Julia folded her arms and leaned against the doorframe. ‘South Yorkshire? Look, if this is about Brian I’m not interested. We’re divorced. Whatever he’s done it’s nothing to do with me.’

‘It’s about your nephew.’

Her eyes widened briefly. ‘I don’t have a nephew.’ She began to close the door.

‘Ryan Asher.’ Scott held his hand firm against the door to stop Julia from closing it.

The silence grew. Scott and Faith had all the time in the world. They could stay here forever.

‘I’ll give you ten minutes,’ she said, opening the door wider and standing back to let them in.

There was no offer of tea or coffee. Julia led them into an old fashioned living room, told them to sit on a threadbare sofa and waited for them to get to the point. She had no intention of prolonging their stay.

‘Mrs Palmer, we’re trying to get in contact with Ryan’s parents but nobody seems to know where they are,’ Faith said.

Julia leaned back in her chair and once again folded her arms. There was a slight smile on her cracked lips. She had the upper hand here.

‘That’s how they want it.’

‘Ryan has been involved in an incident and we need to inform his parents,’ Scott said, slightly disgruntled by Julia’s behaviour.

‘What’s that got to do with South Yorkshire Police?’

‘Ryan is at Starling House. It’s a … ’

‘I know exactly what Starling House is. His solicitor said he’d end up there. Look, whatever’s happened to him, if someone’s beaten him up or he’s got himself into even more trouble then that’s his problem. Lynne made it perfectly clear she wants nothing more to do with him.’

‘Who’s Lynne?’

Julia crossed her legs and began playing with her knotted hair. ‘Sorry, I meant Belinda. Ryan’s mum. I’ve just been chatting to Lynne on the phone. I work with her. That’s probably why I said Lynne,’ she stumbled, lying unconvincingly.

‘Where were you on Monday night?’ Scott asked.

‘Monday night? Why?’

‘Just wondering.’

‘I was at work.’

‘What do you do?’

‘Monday, Wednesday and Thursday night I’m a bingo caller.’

‘Can anyone verify that?’

‘No. I was calling out numbers to an empty hall,’ she said, relishing her sarcastic reply. ‘What does it matter where I was on Monday night?’ Her patience was wearing thin.

‘It must be difficult for you living here with everyone knowing all about you,’ Faith said, changing the subject.

‘Not really. I’ve lived around here all my life. Everyone knows who I am.’

‘There haven’t been any reprisals or anything?’

‘Why should there be?’

‘During the trial your address was a two-bedroom apartment in the city centre. How come you’ve moved in here?’

‘I wanted a house. St— Ryan’s parents wanted to sell quickly and move so I bought it off them. I know you probably think it’s weird but it’s got nothing to do with you, or anyone else for that matter. It’s not like this is where Ryan … ’ Julia swallowed her words. It was obviously still very raw to talk about. Ryan’s grandparents were her parents too.

‘Do you have much contact with Belinda and Paul?’

‘No.’ She looked down at her feet.

‘That must be very hard for you.’

‘It is. I love my sister. I can understand them wanting a fresh start though. I would too if I was in their position.’

‘Why didn’t you go with them?’ Scott asked.

The look on Julia’s face was one of sadness. She opened and closed her mouth a few times but no words came out. She had obviously wanted to go with them – a fresh start together – but maybe the topic of Julia going never came up. Or maybe Paul had put his foot down.

‘Do you have kids?’ Faith asked. She raised her voice and smiled as if trying to lighten the atmosphere.

‘No. I found out I was pregnant about a month before Ryan killed

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