Page 43 of Her Lips Are Sealed

The two officers had come out empty-handed and saluted at Ben who grinned at them.

‘Thanks, guys, much appreciated, your advice has been noted. Who wants the kitchen?’

Amy shook her head, Cain grimaced and Morgan replied, ‘I will.’ She wanted this over with so they could get back to the station and interview Paul Graham when he got released from the hospital, which was supposed to be any time in the next hour, and after Graham she’d quite like to revisit Rena because her intel report didn’t align with the impression Morgan had got off her when they’d met. There could be a couple of reasons for that – she was either good at hiding who she really was, or her mental health had declined over the years, and both were very plausible.

The kitchen was as disgusting as promised, week-old pizza boxes and takeout cartons, empty beer cans, chocolate wrappers, and a loaf of bread so green inside of the bag there could be a cure for Ebola inside of it. Still, Morgan began to open drawers and cabinet doors, looking for anything that could link Paul Graham to the crime scenes, a notepad with indented writing from the notes left at the crime scene, a tube of red lipstick that would be covered in DNA from both Ash and Rachel… She sighed. That was wishful thinking but still it might be possible.

She rifled around in the drawers full of mismatched cutlery and stacks of receipts that she put into an evidence bag in case there was a receipt for a red lipstick mixed up with them. She’d go through them herself later on to make sure it had been thoroughly checked.

Braving the fridge-freezer last, she opened the door and her nose wrinkled immediately at the smell of sour milk and rotting meat. There was a packet of diced chicken that was turning green at the back of the fridge and the reason for the fetid smell that was filling the air. Pushing it to one side with a gloved hand, she saw two Polaroid pictures inside a small, clear Ziplock bag underneath it and picked them up. Unable to stop the gasp that escaped from her lips, she slammed the door shut and shouted. ‘I found something,’ at the top of her voice, not quite believing what she was seeing. She clutched the photos and turned to wave them at Ben who was standing in the doorway.

‘Bingo, he has two pictures of Rachel Derry in her underwear.’

The relief on Ben’s face made her heart ache for him. ‘Where did you find those?’

‘Under a packet of gone-off chicken in the fridge. He was clearly hiding them. This was why he ran, he knew we could connect him to Rachel, and this proves intent or at the very least stalking.’ Morgan was close to tears; it was the best piece of evidence they could have expected to find and at this stage any evidence was better than the nothing they so often came up with during searches.

Ben was grinning at her. ‘I’m so glad you took the kitchen. I’m not sure I would have looked any further once I smelled the state of it in here.’

Cain and Amy were standing behind Ben, who turned and showed them the photos.

‘Yes, Brookes.’ Cain whooped and Amy grinned at her. ‘Good job, Morgan.’

‘Thanks, guys, you would have found it if you’d done in here.’

Cain shook his head. ‘Doubt it, I feel sick just looking at the mess.’

‘I want the bedroom turned upside down, find the camera, and there must be more photos. Has he got a laptop?’

‘No laptop but I found an iPad and I’ve bagged that up.’

‘Nice one, Amy, let’s give it an extra push to see if we can find the Polaroid camera.’ Ben was smiling.

The relief that they now had some tangible evidence to hold Paul Graham on made Morgan feel a thousand times better than before they’d started to search.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Morgan abandoned the car outside the front of the station with the engine running. She’d almost made it to the front doors when a bedraggled woman stepped in front of her. Her dripping hair covering her face, she was peering at her through the curtains of her fringe, soaked through from the torrential downpour that had pelted Rydal Falls for all of five minutes before stopping as suddenly as it had started.

‘He’s still there, hanging around in the shadows and nobody cares about it.’

Morgan didn’t know what she was talking about, had never seen the woman before. She paused. ‘I’m sorry, who are you talking about?’

‘The guy I told some detective about yesterday.’

A low rumble in the sky as thunder began to roll in across the mountain peaks that looked over the small town made Morgan gently take hold of the woman’s arm and lead her into the front reception area, taking cover from the storm about to break.

‘Do you know which detective?’

She nodded. ‘Arrogant, in a suit, black guy, good-looking but I knew he wasn’t interested by the way he kept looking at his watch.’

Morgan was in a rush, but at the same time she couldn’t just fob this woman off, as she looked distressed. Unbeknown to her, she directed her to the same room she had been taken into by Marc. Opening the door she pointed to a chair.

‘He did the same, told me to take a seat, would look into it or at least pass it on. Did he pass it on? Because if you don’t know what I’m talking about, I think that he didn’t bother and was fobbing me off to get rid of me.’

‘I’m going to be honest with you, what’s your name?’

‘Lisa Palmer.’