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another news van pulled up. This time, a man climbed out and unloaded his camera equipment from the back. A reporter from BBC Look North smartened herself up, and prepared her piece to camera. By dusk news vehicles from BBC national news, ITN, and Sky had pulled up, blocking the entrance to Starling House.

There was nothing more from the police, no statement from Starling House, and no sign of anything going on behind those thick stone walls.

‘How long do you plan on staying?’ Glenis asked Danny.

‘Not much longer. It’s going to piss it down tonight by all accounts, and I’ve no intention of catching pneumonia. You?’

‘We’re heading off in a bit. I think if Starling House was going to give a statement they’d have done it by now. Maybe they’re waiting until the next of kin have been informed. It’ll probably be tomorrow before we hear anything.’

‘I think I’ll have a chat with a few of the television boys then head back myself. I might give them my CV.’ He smiled.

Inside, Kate Moloney was looking out of one of the barred windows in her office. She couldn’t move from watching the country’s press gather at the gates. She bit her bottom lip furiously, a nervous habit. There was a knock on the office door and she almost screamed out as she jumped.

‘Come in,’ she called.

Oliver Byron entered. He looked tired. His collar was unbuttoned and his tie askew. ‘You’ve seen the press then?’

‘Yes. I’ve had several emails and phone calls too. Not that I’ve answered any.’

‘Are you going to give a statement?’

‘I’ve had a word with DCI Darke. They still haven’t been able to locate Ryan Asher’s parents. Until they do she recommends we keep this to ourselves.’

‘But our shifts finish tomorrow afternoon. There will be new staff arriving and us leaving. We’ll have to pass the press. They’ll ask questions.’

‘And you’ll ignore them, Oliver,’ Kate raised her voice. ‘Look, I don’t have time for this right now.’ The phone started ringing. Kate had to shout to drown out the sound. ‘I have no intention of talking to the press yet, and I don’t want anyone from here doing so either. Now you go and tell the rest of the staff to keep their mouths shut.’

‘Is everything OK, Kate?’ he asked, a worried frown etched on his face.

‘Oliver, concentrate on your own work. Now get out. Go on.’

The phone stopped ringing, and Kate turned back to look out of the window, just in time to see yet another news van pull up.

‘Shit,’ she said under her breath.

She turned her back to the window and saw Oliver still standing in the doorway. ‘What are you still doing here? I told you to leave,’ she shouted.

Reluctantly, he left, closing the door firmly behind him. Kate returned to her desk and slumped into the chair. For years she had told herself she was calm, cool, and composed during a crisis. Now one had actually happened and she couldn’t cope. She was clueless. The phone started ringing again. Kate jumped, picked it up and threw it to the other side of the room with as much force as she could muster. It smashed against the wall and stopped ringing.

She sat down in the leather seat and looked ahead. On the far wall was a framed photograph: an aerial shot of Starling House. She had always liked the picture, taken on a sunny day in mid-summer. Now, she looked at it with scorn. The realization dawned. She hated Starling House and every single person in it.

THIRTY-EIGHT

‘Welcome back. Did you buy me a present?’ Rory asked when he saw Scott and Faith slink into CID.

The drive back from Norwich had been a long and painfully slow one as the motorway was reduced to just two lanes of traffic for several miles due to road works. Scott had tried to engage Faith in conversation and deliberate on whether Julia Palmer would contact Ryan’s parents about his death but Faith’s replies were mere grunts, and she spent the majority of the journey rapidly texting on her phone.

‘A present? From Norwich? Hardly,’ Scott said, slumping down in his seat.

‘Was it a productive visit?’ Sian asked.

‘Not really. We don’t know where Ryan’s parents are and the mysterious bloke at his trial is still a mystery. We’ve basically just had a night away in a dull hotel room with a flavourless curry and worn down four perfectly good tyres.’

‘You wouldn’t recommend Norwich as a holiday destination then?’

‘There were some lovely open areas to go walking but we weren’t there for that.’

‘Faith,’ Rory began with a twinkle in his eye that suggested he was about to be embarrassing. ‘Was there a mix-up with the hotel rooms and you had to spend the night with Scott?’

‘No,’

‘Did he “accidentally” open your door in the middle of the night thinking it was the bathroom and climb into bed with you?’

‘No, Rory, he didn’t.’

‘Did he knock on your door and ask if you were lonely?’ He grinned.

‘Oh for goodness’ sake. Not every bloke is a chancer like you, Rory.’

‘Bloody hell, Scott, do you put bromide in your tea? What’s wrong with you, man?’

‘Drop it, Rory,’ Sian spoke up as Matilda entered the room.

The room fell silent while Matilda brought them all up to speed on the events of the day. The investigation was still no further forward but Matilda believed Kate Moloney’s recent outburst was a sign that all was not well at Starling House. It had convinced her that a member of staff was the killer of Ryan Asher rather than a fellow inmate.

‘Aaron, tomorrow morning I want you to track down Elly Caine. Bring her in and formally interview her. I want to know where she was on Monday night. Run her through the computer too. I want to know if she’s been in trouble in the past. Does she still keep in touch with any of the staff working at Starling House?’

‘Will do,’ he said, making a note in his pad. ‘By

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