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or use a computer when he stayed with you?’

Julie shook her head, but Molly sensed reluctance there.

‘Any device? Anything he could get online with? What about a phone?’ She paused as Julie’s gaze fell to the table. ‘It’s important. It may have vital evidence.’

‘I need you to tell me something first,’ Julie said, in a conspiratorial tone. ‘Why did this happen? Because I keep thinking about the last time I saw him. If I did something to upset him. If I should have . . .’ Julie’s lips pursed into a tight, thin line as she fought to compose herself.

‘Please don’t blame yourself,’ Molly replied. ‘We’re doing everything in our power to find out what happened that night.’

Julie sighed, her fingers pinched over the lip of her bag. ‘There’s an iPad. He spent half the day on the thing. I found it under his pillow in his room.’

‘And you didn’t give it to officers when they came to visit?’

Julie shook her head. ‘It’s just that . . . well, I thought he’d want me to have it. I like playing Candy Crush. It passes the hours.’

Molly nodded in understanding. Candy Crush would have to take a back seat for now. ‘We’ll have to have it, just for a while. You’ll get it back. I’ll ask some local officers to drop by your house.’

‘No need, dear.’ Julie reached into her bag. ‘I was playing it on the train. You can have it now.’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Amy surveyed her team as she entered the room. Paddy was late for work, his short trip delayed even further by a doughnut run. Amy couldn’t understand the ritual of having to buy doughnuts for the team when you were running late. She only hoped Paddy would make the briefing on time. At least the rest of her team had turned up before eight; Molly was already interviewing a witness, Martin O Toole’s sister.

Her gaze fell on Molly’s desk. It appeared as if she had always worked there, with a scattering of pens, paperwork and a couple of Beanie Babies (or mascots as she called them) that she had brought from home. Steve’s workspace was clear, apart from his usual protein drink. He was bulking – or was that cutting? She couldn’t remember. He put her gym efforts to shame. In his drawer would be the latest edition of Fitness magazine. She knew he carried two phones, one for ‘hot dates’ and the other for family and work. Keeping things separate was important to him, and she could understand that.

Donovan’s desk was taken up with paperwork and reports which he had printed off the system. The station was trying to go paperless, but she knew he hated reading from a screen. She knew that if she opened his desk drawers, she would find a stash of food: apples, strawberries and some crisps and chocolate to balance the scales. She had never seen a man who could eat so much yet look so good. Right now, he was upstairs organising a press conference to counter the story that had been leaked to the press. They had spoken to so many witnesses, it was only a matter of time before the media got hold of it. One of the most frustrating things for the public was when they held evidence back. But Donovan was steady and calming, much more comfortable in front of the camera than her. He would reassure the local community that there was nothing to worry about. Particularly now, when she was armed with information that the men who died could have been up to no good. Given Mama Danielle’s hesitance, she had kept her informant to herself. But the innocence of her male victims was being brought into question.

She cast her eyes over Gary, who was staring at his phone. His shirt was canary yellow and appeared new, packet-creased. He had seemed unhappy since he arrived; something was obviously playing on his mind. She knew he had a girlfriend, Priti. She had once heard him say to Molly that he was thinking of popping the question, but the pair of them had clammed up as soon as Amy entered the room. Judging by the miserable look on his face, she could only guess that Priti had said no. As Amy interrogated the computer system, she saw that Gary hadn’t updated his taskings today.

‘Gary,’ she said sharply as she watched him scrolling through his mobile phone. ‘How are you getting on with your hospital enquiries? There’s no update here.’ She had given him the tasking first thing this morning, as Molly had enough to contend with. Regardless of his personal issues, she shouldn’t have to ask if he was pulling his weight.

He dropped his phone as if it was hot, shoving it into his pocket before turning to face her. ‘Sorry, ma’am. I’ve spoken to the hospital in Blackpool, but they’ve had nothing suspicious come in. I’m working my way through local doctors now.’

Amy arched an eyebrow. They only ever called her ma’am when they were in trouble. ‘I want a list of everyone you’ve spoken to. They work shifts, so there could be someone you’ve missed out.’

‘No need,’ Steve said, a triumphant smile on his face. ‘I’ve sorted it.’

Gary’s face creased in a frown. ‘You didn’t say you were working on this too.’

Steve shrugged. ‘I just spoke to May, she’s a staff nurse who came back from leave today. She was on duty when this guy was brought into casualty by ambulance. He was sopping wet from head to toe and could barely breathe.’

‘When was this?’ Amy’s pulse quickened. This could be just the lead they needed.

‘Exactly two weeks after our first victim, Chesney. It’s got to be related.’ Steve’s eyes were alight as he relayed his latest findings. He was in his element when pitted against another member of the team. ‘Get this – they treated him for an overdose. He’d been drugged.’

Gary looked utterly crestfallen. It was a blot on his copybook, one that would

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