Page 32 of Her Lips Are Sealed

He shrugged. ‘Well, let’s hope he’s the killer because I haven’t got any staff left to cover Response. I’ve had to borrow some from Barrow and they’re a pain in the backside; they have no idea where they’re going to get to jobs. It’s like someone hired an entire sixth form and set them free with handcuffs, fast cars and the navigation skills of Jack Sparrow.’

‘I thought it was just me, that I was feeling old.’

‘Christ, if you’re feeling old then I’m practically ancient. Are you okay though?’

She nodded. ‘I’m good, thanks for asking.’ She was touched by his concern, he was mellowing and she liked this kinder, more considerate version of him. Not that she’d ever tell him that, but since he’d dragged her out of the lake that night she’d almost drowned their relationship seemed to have got a little closer and not as fraught with the tension that normally ensued.

‘Wendy’s sick.’

‘I know, told her to get herself home. She looks even worse than you do, which reminds me shouldn’t your boss have sent you home or to A&E?’

‘I don’t need that, it looks worse than it is and we have too much to do, Mads, it’s chaos.’

‘No change there then.’ He winked at her and sauntered towards the brew station.

She left him and got the lift up to the second floor.

‘Whoa, what happened to your face?’ asked Cain who must have arrived back at the station while she was bathing her nose.

‘Long story.’

He tilted his head. ‘It’s a mess.’

‘You think so, thanks for that observation. You should be a detective with that level of observation.’

‘Calm down, Tyson Fury, I’m just concerned.’ He lowered his voice. ‘It wasn’t Ben, was it?’

Morgan’s eyes almost popped out of her head. ‘No, it was not,’ she hissed at him. ‘He would never.’

‘I know, just checking the stress didn’t get to him that much he ended up taking it out on you. Because then I’d have to take him to one side and have serious words with him.’

The door was thrust open with so much force that it slammed into the knackered wall and knocked another chunk of plaster off. Marc walked in. ‘Oops, I forget every time. Christ, Morgan, what the hell? Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine, wish you’d all stop asking me. Paul Graham kicked me when he was climbing up a wall, do none of you listen to your radios?’

They both shrugged. ‘Sometimes, missed that little bit of action.’ Cain was smiling at her. ‘Is that the guy with multiple broken bones?’

‘The very one.’

‘Well then, got his comeuppance, didn’t he?’ he said as he leaned forward and rubbed the top of her head as if she was a dog. She growled at him and pulled herself out of his reach, sitting down at her desk.

She began typing furiously, logging in to the computer and then searching for any information on Paul Graham. His mugshot filled the screen of her computer along with a long file of intelligence on him.

The satisfaction she felt at seeing how much previous he had was immense. There were previous arrests for Breaking and Entering, Assault, Grievous Bodily Harm and attempted rape. How had he passed the DBS check for his job with the cleaning company? By rights they should have run a mile, letting him into the house of vulnerable people under the guise of a cleaner. It made her stomach churn with anger and frustration.

She sent the records off to the printer to show everyone, then went to collect it. There was a quiet anger that was bubbling underneath Morgan’s skin, ready to explode at the slightest bit of extra pressure. Paul Graham could not be interviewed until he’d been medically cleared by a doctor and judging by the state of his self-inflicted injuries that might take some time.

Sitting back, she realised that she hadn’t been to the hotel to confirm Dan’s alibi and realised that she should do this now before it got pushed to one side, and to speak with him about the rented properties to find out just how many his dad owned and if there was a connection to Ash. As much as she wanted it to be Paul Graham, it would be unprofessional of her to not check and see if Dan had told her the truth.

TWENTY-ONE

It was late. Morgan should be home, tucked up in bed, relieved that they’d found Rachel and Ash’s killer and getting some well-earned rest. But instead she was about to stroll into the Belsfield Hotel, which sat nestled on a hill overlooking Lake Windermere. She knew it was crazy not to send someone else to speak to the night duty manager to see if Dan was in work last night like he’d said he was, but she needed to be the one to make sure. Anyway, they needed an official ID of Rachel, and Ben had asked her to call and ask on her way home if Dan could do that for them in the morning because Rena, her sister, had refused point blank to do it, and although they knew it was Rachel from the statement given to them by the cleaner Brian James, they still had to get it signed off. The hotel was in darkness, which was strange for a hotel this size, and as she pushed open the entry doors and saw the candles burning, she realised they’d had a power cut.

The door man was sitting behind the desk on the phone, arguing with whoever was responsible for the power cut, she assumed by the tone of his voice. When he finally hung up he looked up at her.

‘Good evening, can I help you?’

Morgan tugged her warrant card out of her shirt for him to look at.