Hard Evidence

'If you kept on holding their hands, maybe that would work.'

'What do you mean?'

'See, if you held on to them, then those hands couldn't be put to use again, could they? Strangling people. Stabbing or glassing people. Raping. Sodomising. Old ladies, young children.'

'You're not a fan of probation and rehabilitation, I take it?'

'Are you?'

'I wouldn't be in this job if I wasn't.'

'Every single week someone is murdered or raped by an offender on parole. Let out early on the recommendation of yourself or one of your colleagues.'

'We're not the bad guys, Inspector. These statistics should be put into context. Last year only point six per cent of offenders assessed as high risk reoffended.'

Delaney could feel a throbbing in his temples and a red mist building up behind his eyes. 'I was just putting matters into the context, Ms Simmons, of the fact that career criminals are let out after serving only half their time. Let out on probation due to the fact that the government reckons it is more cost-effective to let murderers loose on the street than to build the prisons needed to house them all.'

Elaine smiled sympathetically. 'I'm sorry you see it that way.'

'Save your apologies for Jenny Morgan's father.'

'I don't feel he has cause for alarm.'

Delaney couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'His psychotic sister has kidnapped his daughter, for Christ's sake. I should think he has every good reason to be alarmed.'

'Candy Morgan was assessed very thoroughly before she was released. I really don't think she poses a threat to anyone, least of all her niece.'

'She cut somebody's ear off. She sliced a guard's face open with a razor.'

'She changed.'

'They all change when parole comes up.'

'Candy was different.'

Delaney laughed dismissively. 'They're all different, they're all innocent.'

'Have you spoken to her, Inspector?'

'Obviously not. That's why we're here.'

'When you speak to her, you'll see what I mean.'

'You have nothing to give us that will help us find her?'

'I've no idea where she is. But I can assure you that the girl is in no danger.'

'How can you be so sure?'

Elaine hesitated, then shook her head. 'You'll just have to take my word for it.'

Delaney looked at her, realisation dawning. 'You know something, don't you?'

'No. I have no idea where she is.'

'But you know something. She has told you something?'

'Anything we ever spoke about is confidential. You know that, Inspector.'

'I know that a twelve-year-old girl is missing.'

'I'm sorry, but I can't help you.'

'Bullshit!' Delaney slammed his hand down hard on her desk.

Elaine jumped back, startled.

'You know anything that can help us find that girl then you tell us now. Or so help me I'll make you pay for it if anything happens to her.'

Elaine Simmons met his angry look. 'Believe it or not, Inspector, you're not the first person to shout at me.'

Sally intervened diplomatically. 'We just want to find the girl. I'm sure you can see that.'

'Of course I can. And if I could help in any way I would. Like I said, I honestly and genuinely believe that Candy Morgan is a changed woman. She has had a horrible, troubled life but she has turned it around. She's turned a corner.'

'She's turning a corner straight back to Holloway when we catch up with her.'

'And if she hasn't done anything wrong?'

'Of course she's done something wrong.'

'She's a relative. It makes a difference.'

Delaney leaned in. 'You want to help Candy Morgan?'

'Yes, I do.'

'Then tell us what you know.'

'I'm sorry, there's nothing else to tell.'

Delaney's mobile phone rang; he snapped it open, irritated.

'Delaney?'

He listened for a moment or two then thanked the caller and hung up. He stood up and nodded to Sally. 'We're out of here.'

'Where to?'

'Back to Holloway.'

Delaney opened the door for Sally and looked back at Elaine Simmons.

'I hope you sleep well at night.'

'As it happens, I don't, Inspector. And you know why?'

'Surprise me.'

Because I actually care about the people I deal with. To you they may be worthless scum. But to me they are victims just as much as the people they have offended against.'

'And it's all the fault of society, I suppose?'

'You're carrying a lot of anger around with you, Inspector. It's not healthy.'

'You going to offer to counsel me?'

'Not me, but you should get help. That kind of anger. You let that build and someone is going to end up getting hurt.'

'Maybe someone already has.'

Delaney followed Sally through the door and pulled it firmly shut behind him.

Sally looked at him a little nervously. 'What did you mean by somebody already being hurt?'

'Don't worry about it.'

He walked ahead, the tension showing in the taut muscles of his shoulders.

A loose tile let a shaft of sunlight poke through the roof, throwing a small spill of speckled gold on to the attic floor. Dust motes danced in the beam of light as a spider crawled out of the eaves and stopped frozen in the centre of the small golden circle.

Across the attic, in the dark, Jenny Morgan's eyes widened and she shrank back against the hard angle of the roof. She hated spiders. Always had. It seemed to her that the spider had stopped because it had seen her. She let out a low whimper and shrank even further back, hunching her shoulders. She cried out a little as the blue nylon cord that was tied to her wrists bit in roughly. The other end of the rope was tied to an iron hoop beyond her reach, so she was trapped. Alone. In the dark, and terrified.

The spider stiffened slightly and then suddenly shot with lightning speed back into the shadows. Jenny let out a small sigh of relief, her young heart pumping blood so fast that she could feel it in her chest and her ears.

Then a sound came and she stiffened again. The sound of footsteps on the ladder that led into the loft. As she looked across, the woman who claimed to be her aunt was coming towards her. In the darkness she couldn't see the expression on her face or the look in her eyes, but what she could see was the spill of sunlight flashing off steel as the woman raised the carving knife that she held in her right hand.

And Jenny screamed.

17.

Delaney leaned his elbow out of the window as they waited in a long line of traffic queuing up to Archway. Sally glanced across at him. 'You think there should be a difference between sentencing men and women, then? That women should be treated differently?'

'We don't make the law, Sally.'

'Most female prisoners are in for crimes that don't really pose a risk to society. Theft, handling stolen goods, petty crimes to help feed their family. The children of those women are often then put into care. And that's just seeding crime for the future. We're breeding criminals and the prison system is a large part of it.'

'What about Candy Morgan, do you think she should have been released?'

Sally sighed. 'She obviously has mental health problems.'

She spun the wheel, pulling the car back into the prison car park, and showed her warrant card to the security guard who manned the gate, Delaney did likewise and they were waved through to drive on and find a space.

He stared ahead as he took off his seatbelt. 'Elaine Simmons may sit in her ivory tower and make decisions based on political correctness because she doesn't have to deal with the consequences. You and I do. And if she is wrong about Candy Morgan, then it is little Jenny who will pay the price.'

Sally undid her belt and Delaney turned to her. 'No point us both going in. You wait here. I won't be long.'

He got out of the car and shut his door. Sally wound her window down, grateful for a slight breeze that shifted the hot and heavy air a little.

She sat back in her seat and put the radio on. Radio Four. Some sitcom about a care worker and her variably eccentric colleagues dealing with life in modern London. She chuckled a little but the programme was finishing and the next item was the news, which she had heard already that day about ten times. She turned the radio right down and leaned her head back, closing her eyes, enjoying the warmth of the day and falling into a light doze.