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daughter had taken an overdose. There was a note by the bed saying that she was sorry, but she just couldn’t go on any more. She was only 19.

The Roadside Rapist had claimed his first life.

[UNDER BED OF ‘TEARS IN HEAVEN’ – ERIC CLAPTON]

I’m Jocelyn Naismith and this is Righting the Wrongs. You can listen to this and other podcasts from The Whole Truth on Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.

[FADE OUT]

* * *

RG: Interview resumed at 13.10. Those present as previously stated.

DK: Let’s get back to those forensics, shall we? Because frankly I’m struggling to come up with any explanation. Apart from the blindingly obvious.

AF: There must have been a mistake –

DK: A mistake? Seriously? How many times have I heard suspects come out with that exact same crap over the years? ‘It wasn’t me, I wasn’t there.’ That’s really the best you can come up with?

AF: Look, if I’d had sex with her you’d have found semen, not just a pubic hair.

DK: You could have used a condom.

AF: You may have the sort of marriage where you carry round condoms on the off-chance, King, but I can assure you, I don’t.

DK: [leans forward]

Explain.

The.

Hair.

AF: [pause]

There is no explanation.

DK: [sits back again]

Oh, I think there is. Don’t you?

* * *

‘I still don’t bloody believe it,’ says Gislingham.

It’s gone 2.00 p.m. No one’s done any work for hours. Jackets are off, ties are loosened, and the machine in the corridor has run out of cold cans. Someone suggested decamping to the pub a while back, but no one seems to have the willpower to actually get their stuff and go.

‘What did Gallagher say again?’

‘It wasn’t her I got it from,’ says Quinn. ‘It was that bloke Farrow. According to him, it’s the DNA that’s the clincher, but when I pushed him he went all need-to-know on me. Though he couldn’t resist letting slip that even Fawley won’t be able to talk himself out of this one.’

‘Fuck,’ says Gislingham. He still can’t believe he came back from the Costa Brava straight into this.

‘You want me to talk to Clive Conway?’ asks Baxter. ‘He owes me one. Or three.’

But Gis is shaking his head. ‘Best not. Don’t want you landing yourself in the shit. There’s enough of that coming down already, by the sounds of it.’

‘And in any case,’ says Ev hopelessly, ‘what difference would it make? There’s nothing any of us can do.’

Gis opens his mouth to reply, then closes it again. Because there’s someone at the door, his bulk filling the narrow space.

Harrison.

Gis straightens up. ‘Afternoon, sir.’

‘Ah, DS Gislingham, good to have you back. We could have done with you, the last few days.’

Quinn bristles a little, but takes care it’s not quite enough to catch Harrison’s notice.

The superintendent moves to the centre of the room. He knows how to command a space.

‘I imagine you’ve all heard the unfortunate news about DI Fawley. Well, clearly I’m not going to discuss the case or go into any detail about the evidence against him. That would be both inappropriate and premature. What I will say, is that I am expecting, indeed relying on you, as a team, to demonstrate the highest possible standards of professional integrity. This is not your case, and you must under no circumstances interfere with the investigation or impede DI Gallagher’s personnel in any way.’

He looks around the room, slowly, at each of them in turn.

‘And for the avoidance of doubt, this explicitly includes any sort of contact with the press. No “quiet words”, no “sources close to the inquiry” – do I make myself clear? There will, needless to say, be no official comment of any kind unless and until DI Fawley is charged.’

Gislingham isn’t the only one to wince at that: it’s one of Fawley’s phrases.

Harrison clears his throat. ‘It’s bad enough our murder suspect is a Thames Valley Detective Inspector; it’ll be ten times bloody worse if that fact gets out.’

He glances around again. Murmurs of ‘Yes, sir’, ‘Of course, sir’.

‘There’s plenty else for you to be getting on with. The Fisher case for a start – or had that slipped your minds?’

Quinn looks up. ‘I thought we were waiting on the CPS –’

Harrison stares at him, and then, pointedly, at Gislingham. ‘I’ll leave it with you then, Detective Sergeant.’

* * *

DK: Let’s go back to the stalker.

AF: I’ve already explained about that.

DK: Not to me, you haven’t.

AF: [pause, then slowly]

I asked her for details of the incidents, and then I talked through any likely suspects. Anyone who might have a grudge against her – colleagues or old boyfriends –

DK: And what did she say?

AF: She was at a loss. She had no idea who it could be.

DK: So she specifically didn’t mention this man Cleland?

AF: [pause]

No.

DK: What about the most recent boyfriend – what did she say about him?

AF: That she hadn’t been seeing him long. That it hadn’t been that serious, and in any case he was the one who ended it. He had no reason to stalk her.

DK: She actually said that – that this man had dumped her?

AF: Not ‘dumped’, no –

DK: But it was his decision to finish it.

AF: Yes. Absolutely.

DK: You see, that’s what I’m having trouble with. This ex-boyfriend.

AF: Why? It’s perfectly straightforward.

DK: [shaking his head]

I’m afraid it isn’t. Not by a long way. Because there was no ex-boyfriend.

AF: I’m not with you.

DK: Emma Smith didn’t have a boyfriend. Not then, not ever. Because Emma Smith was gay.

AF: [silence]

No – you must have got that wrong –

DK: Nope. She wasn’t exactly out and proud, I’ll give you that. But she was gay. She’d been seeing a woman called Amanda Haskell – she just came forward after seeing the news reports. We’ve seen emails between them. There’s no mistake.

[sitting back]

So everything you just said – it was all a lie. All that crap about old boyfriends –

AF: No – absolutely not – that’s what she said –

RG: I’m afraid I’m also struggling with this.

AF: Perhaps she meant – look,

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