‘OK, this has gone far enough,’ Ms Bamford said, raising her voice. ‘Either ask my client a further question connected to his arrest, or this interrogation ends now.’ She made as if to stand, pushing her chair back.
DCI Clarke at last spoke. ‘Please wait a moment.’ He turned to Jack with a pleading look, desperate for him to get to the point before the interview was terminated.
‘You had to wait a long time to take your revenge,’ Jack continued. He turned the photographs over. ‘Look at them. This is your youngest half-sister, little Susie. And this is Milly. Your aunt told me they are the last faces she sees every night and the first she sees every morning. You were the last face they saw, weren’t you, Rodney, before they burnt to death in the fire? Your father beat you up because he felt so guilty about what he did to your mother. They just wanted rid of you, didn’t they? They wanted you to leave the house, kicking you out. So you made sure they would feel the pain you had inside. Did you watch the fire eat up their tiny bodies trapped in the inferno?’
Middleton suddenly let loose with a howl like an animal. His face twisted into a terrifying mask of rage as he reached across the table to try to get hold of Jack. It was DCI Clarke who got round the table to drag him back into his seat, but the rage persisted as he screamed and cursed. Ms Bamford shot out of her seat in terror and Clarke then hit the emergency button, triggering two officers to rush in.
Middleton was foaming at the mouth as he raised both arms up in submission and was forced to sit back in his chair. ‘Handcuff him,’ DCI Clarke ordered.
‘I don’t need fucking handcuffs,’ Rodney snarled.
Ms Bamford asked for a break and Middleton turned towards her.
‘Just sit down, you cunt. I’m sick of you. Let me tell you, smartass Detective Warr, when I get out, I will kill you, understand me?’
Jack calmly returned to his second file and opened it again. He removed the photographs of Jamail, Trudie and Nadine and laid them out on the table one by one.
‘Did you kill Jamail Brown?’
Middleton glared at him, eyes blazing.
‘Yes!’
He gave the same snarling answer in relation to Trudie and Nadine, waving his hand over their photographs as if they meant nothing to him. The only images he could not look at were those of his little half-sisters. He laid his hand gently over their faces and started to cry.
The group in the viewing room were almost paralyzed with shock. They watched silently for the next two hours as Jack led Rodney Middleton through each of the murders. Middleton showed no remorse, and it was deeply disturbing when he laughed and admitted that there were more. He gave their names, seeming to enjoy the fact that there were so many. He also said that Amanda was like a slave to him, doing what he told her without question because she was in love with him, foolishly believing that he was the only person in her life who loved her. He claimed that she knew everything that happened to the girls they picked up. Finally Jack asked what Middleton knew about her past, but he wouldn’t repeat anything she had told him. It was the only decent thing he did.
By the time it was all over, Jack and DCI Clarke were exhausted. There was no exhilaration. They would have many more weeks of work ahead as they identified the other victims Middleton had named, and contacted their families, and they still needed to prove that Abena Mensah had been murdered by Rodney’s father. But they had the result they needed most. Rodney Middleton would plead guilty.
It was after 10 p.m. by the time Jack got home. All he wanted to do was to sit next to his wife with a glass of wine and order in a takeaway. Maggie was already waiting with a bottle open and two glasses.
‘Is it over?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘He confessed.’
‘That’s fantastic! Did you all celebrate?’
‘No, it was a very tough and long day. I’m just glad it’s finished.’
‘Well, we can celebrate now.’ She poured two glasses of wine.
‘It’s not something I want to celebrate yet, Mags, because we still have the trial.’
She paused. ‘Well, there’s something we — you and me — can celebrate. You remember a few weeks back when we had that night of passion; not the recent one, but...’ She held up her glass. ‘I’m pregnant.’
For a second Jack thought he was about to faint. Instead, he took a deep breath and burst into tears.
Maggie wrapped her arms around him. ‘What are you crying for?’
‘Because it’s the best news ever.’
Acknowledgments
I would like to thank, Nigel Stoneman and Tory Macdonald, the team I work with at La Plante Global.
All the forensic scientists and members of the Met Police who help with my research. I could not write without their valuable input.
Cass Sutherland for his valuable advice on police procedures and forensics.
The entire team at my publisher, Bonnier Books UK, who work together to have my books edited, marketed, publicised and sold. A special thank you to Kate Parkin, Ben Willis and Bill Massey for their great editorial advice and guidance.
Blake Brooks, who have introduced me to the world of social media, my Facebook Live sessions have been so much fun. Nikki Mander who manages my PR and makes it so easy and enjoyable.
The audio team, Jon Watt and Laura Makela, for bringing my entire backlist to a new audience in audiobooks. Thanks also for giving me my first podcast series, Listening to the Dead, which can be downloaded globally.
Allen and Unwin in Australia and Jonathan Ball in South Africa — thank you for doing such fantastic work with my books.
All the reviewers, journalists, bloggers and broadcasters who interview me, write reviews and promote my books. Thank you for your time and work.