Page 55 of Her Lips Are Sealed

Cain turned to her. ‘You saved her life, Morgan.’

‘I hope so, we need to find this fucker and soon.’ She showed him the photograph of the note, and he groaned.

‘We will because now we have our first living witness. Lisa should be able to give us a full description and not only that, but he wouldn’t have had time to clean up after himself. I reckon that kitchen will be full of his fingerprints because she wouldn’t have let a man into her flat if he’d been wearing gloves, would she?’

Morgan grinned at him and placed her hands together in the prayer position. ‘Please God, let this be true.’

He paused, looking down at Morgan’s phone again. ‘What does that even mean, why is he naming you?’

‘And how would I know? How does he know I found his first note?’ She lowered her voice. ‘Is he watching us, do you think?’

Cain wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her tight. ‘Not unless he’s hidden cameras inside, but he doesn’t come across as that clever. Ben is going to die on the spot when he sees this.’

‘I know, he’s never going to let me out on my own for the foreseeable.’

‘I’ll wait here, if you want to follow the ambulance up to hospital.’

‘Thanks, Cain, are you sure?’

‘Positive, I’m pretty sure Ben will cut Paul Graham’s interview short to get here. Until then I’ll door knock and see if anyone heard or saw anyone going into Lisa’s flat. Patrol will shout if they find anyone in local gardens or acting suspiciously nearby. Let’s get door knocking. We have to strike it lucky at some point.’

Morgan nodded. ‘We do and this is the break we needed.’

She raced to get into the car that still had the keys in the ignition. Driving a lot slower than Cain did to get here, she made her way to the A&E department at Furness General Hospital in Barrow.

THIRTY-FOUR

Paul Graham was in a wheelchair; his broken leg was raised in front of him resting on a metal plate. Ben had cautioned him, then offered him a hot drink which he’d declined.

‘Paul, let’s cut to the chase, do you know why you’re here?’ Ben asked, genuinely hoping the guy would crumble in front of him and confess to both murders.

‘No.’

‘Then why did you run when my detective knocked on your door?’

He shrugged.

‘Can you speak clearly, please, for the tape.’ Ben pointed to the small camera in the corner of the room that was recording everything.

‘Habit. Instinct, I suppose.’

Lucy pointed to his injured leg. ‘A bit of a reckless habit, what were you hiding to make you run like that?’

‘Nothing, I don’t have anything to hide.’

‘So, regardless of who knocks on your door, you do a runner out of the back alley. How do you get any post or parcels?’ Lucy asked.

‘Fuck off.’

‘I’m being serious, Paul, from our point of view only a person with something to hide would do what you did. Is there something you’d like to tell us?’

The solicitor shook their head at Paul. ‘You don’t have to answer that.’

‘There’s nothing to tell.’

Lucy moved her notebook to one side and took out the evidence bag with the naked pictures of Rachel inside of it and pushed it across the table so Paul could see them. Ben noticed the solicitor flinch, just the slightest of movements.

Paul’s face turned the colour of pickled beetroot. ‘They’re not mine.’