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his parole conditions are? Maybe reporting his threats could land him straight back inside.”

“I don’t need to check anything to know that. The speed he skedaddled when I threatened him with the police told me all I needed to know on that front.”

“So why didn’t you report him?” I drain the coffee mug and put it down. I watch Will flush.

“He’s my dad. However much of a prick he is, and however scary, it doesn’t feel right shopping him straight away.”

“Not even if it’s putting your mum at risk?”

“He doesn’t know where Mum is, or have a clue she’s even left Scotland.”

“Maybe, but there are ways people like your dad can get information. It only needs one corrupt official or a clever ex-con that your dad’s in touch with. You’re not the only one who can hack.”

“I suppose. I’ll think about it. I don’t want to put Mum in danger.”

“Don’t leave it too long, otherwise they’ll be asking you why you didn’t report it immediately.”

My phone pings. Joanna’s just forwarded me a message:

‘Troy: Sedation is wearing off. Can’t bear this. Need to find the bastard who killed my wife. Help me.’

I call her. It’s easier than messaging back and forth.

“How are you feeling?”

“Okay. It’d be good to have something to do.”

“Can you arrange to meet Troy somewhere? Away from Molly and Janice? We can’t exactly interview him at his own house.”

Will touches my arm.

“Hang on a sec.” I turn to Will. “What?”

“Why can’t you interview this Troy in his own house?”

“Because the police will be hanging about, and although we’ve got support from the Inspector, the Sergeant on the case hates me. Your mum and I need to be discreet.”

“Ask this guy to download Skype onto his phone, and you and Mum can interview him that way. It means no one needs to go outside, so surely safer for everyone. Also, we can set it up so it records the call.” He puts his hand out for the phone, and I hand it to him. “Mum, did you hear what I just said?” I don’t hear the answer, but I assume she said no, as he repeats the suggestion. “Why don’t you come back down, and we can discuss it properly?” He disconnects the call and hands my phone back to me.

While we wait for Joanna to come downstairs, I go into the kitchen and put the kettle on. I reckon we could all do with another hot drink. A short while later, I return to the lounge to find Will instructing his mum on what to say to Troy. I let them get on with it and sit patiently with my coffee and biscuits.

Five minutes later, Joanna announces, “Troy’s joining us on Skype. He says his house is empty except for him, so he can speak freely.”

“Surely he’s not back in his own house yet? It must still be a crime scene.”

“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”

“I guess we’ll find out in a few minutes. Will, how do we set up Skype so Joanna and I can both talk to Troy?”

At Joanna’s suggestion, we move into the kitchen and sit at the table. Will opens his mum’s laptop and lets her type in the password before pressing a few buttons at lightning speed. Two minutes later, and we’re ready to go. Troy’s exhausted face fills the screen.

Joanna and I turn to each other for a moment. This will not be an easy interview.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“Hi Troy, how are you doing?” I don’t wait for an answer, before continuing. “Can you hear us okay? And see us?”

“Yeah. Thanks for doing this. I really wanted to talk to you without the cops hanging around.”

“Sure. Where are you?” I ask.

“Staying with my mum and dad in Withington. It’s only a couple of miles from the in-laws, so I can see my baby every day, but she’s better off staying with them for the moment.”

“You said you’re alone in the house?” Joanna joins in. Perhaps she realises how accusatory she sounds, as she tempers it with, “Not that it matters. As long as the police aren’t around.”

“Mum and Dad are out shopping. Once they saw I’d woken up and wasn’t about to end it all, they reckoned it was safe to leave me.”

“Let’s take advantage of it then and ask some questions.”

“You don’t need to ask anything. I’ll tell you everything.” Troy sounds exhausted but determined. I’m curious to see where he’ll start. It’s so much easier when you’re being questioned, and there’s a structure to the interview, but if he wants to play it this way, it’s fine with me. I glance at Joanna. She’s sitting up straight on the kitchen chair, looking into the webcam. Her face is serious but calm. I look back at the screen and see we’re both in a thumbnail-sized image at the top. Troy’s face fills the screen.

“Go ahead then, Troy.”

“Where do you want me to start?” He’s finally realised it’s not that easy just talking. Joanna takes pity on him.

“You told us on Saturday about how you found her, so let’s go back a bit further, and tell us about your band and how you got started?”

“Oh, okay. I reckon I’ve always wanted to be in a band. I messed about with bands even when I was in primary school. But I met Harry, Gaz and Zach at college. We were all studying music and hit it off straightaway. It helped that Gaz is a drummer, Harry plays guitar, and Zach does keyboards and a bit of sax. It makes for a cool sound. We all write music and I guess it started from there. We rehearsed, then started doing gigs. First ones were pretty crap, but we got better and started working more on our own stuff; sussing out what went down best, and what we enjoyed performing. We’ve been doing Band On The Wall for a few years now, as well as other places. We travel around doing student gigs a lot. Then a

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