‘Was Tabitha Ashcroft electronically monitored?’ Eastwood asked.
‘I don’t know,’ Ramouter answered. ‘But I’ll check the CRIS reports and see. If she was on tag and her address wasn’t in the public domain then it would mean that Durant, if he is involved, was possibly in contact with a Soteria employee.’
‘And that means that it’s not just a murder and an attempted murder investigation but a conspiracy,’ said Henley. ‘We’ve gotevidence that he lied about his car, blackmailed the Ashcrofts and he has what looks like defensive injuries. His prints and DNA were expunged from the database when he was NFA’d for threatening words and behaviour, so we need to get DNA swabs from Durant as soon as possible.’
‘Are you suggesting that the third DNA profile recovered from the Ashcrofts’ kitchen and on Graham Ashcroft’s clothing could belong to Laurance Durant?’ asked Ramouter.
‘We’ve got no evidence to suggest that it doesn’t.’ Henley shrugged.
Henley breathed a sigh of relief. Not quite believing that she was leaving the SCU before 6 p.m.. Her plan had been to go home but Linh’s text had put a stop to those plans. She checked her phone. She had four minutes until her Uber arrived.
‘Nice to finally escape from here, isn’t it?’
Henley looked up to see Pellacia making his way towards her. There was the distinct clink of glass bottles in the bag that he was carrying. Henley felt the familiar pinch of jealousy when she saw roses in Pellacia’s other hand. She chastised herself.
‘You shouldn’t sneak up on people,’ Henley said.
‘Sorry, about that. What are you doing out here?’ Pellacia asked.
‘Waiting for a cab. I’m off to Linh’s and I suspect alcohol will be involved.’
‘I’d be surprised if it wasn’t. Anyway, I’m glad I caught you. I wanted to talk to you about something. I had a meeting with Barker, about expanding the team.’
‘Jo told me that Copeland was here this morning. Are you taking her on?’
‘She’s not the only option.’
‘Do you want my thoughts on Copeland?’ Henley asked.
Pellacia laughed. ‘I can pretty much guess your thoughts.’
‘You always could.’
Pellacia stepped towards her and placed his hand on her cheek.
‘We don’t talk anymore,’ he said, removing his hand. ‘I don’t mean about work … I mean … you. I miss you.’
‘We talk,’ Henley said as a car approached the entrance. ‘And we’ve spoken about this. We need to be better than this. This back and forth.’
Pellacia said nothing but glanced at the roses. ‘I thought I knew exactly what I was doing earlier today. That I’d made the right decision.’
‘My cab is here,’ Henley said wearily.
Pellacia’s expression was blank. ‘Of course. Barker said she’ll let me know by the end of play today whether the secondment will be Copeland or someone else. As soon as I know, you’ll know.’
‘Let’s hope it’s the right choice,’ Henley said as she got into the cab.
The end of tourist season and the fact that parents had finally taken their exhausted children home after a day of half-term activities meant that Copeland was the only person sitting in the beer garden of the Gypsy Moth pub on a Monday evening. Ramouter paused for a second as he took another look at the WhatsApp message he’d received a few minutes earlier:
Michelle, 18.38
Mum is doing my head in! But your brother Dal has rescued us Eat proper food!
Ramouter felt guilt prickling his skin as he put his phone away and he saw Copeland waving him over.
He sat down opposite her. ‘I’m so sorry I kept you waiting.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Copeland picked up her glass of red wine and took a sip. ‘Are you all right sitting outside? They’ve got heaters. It’s just I’ve been cooped up in the office all afternoon and you know how it is.’
