Savage Moon

'So,' Rick said. 'You've got yourself one beautiful baby.' Alice's lips relaxed enough to allow a brief smile. 'Thanks.'

'How's she sleeping at nights?'

Alice kept her eyes resolutely on Holly. 'OK. She's awake every three hours I suppose.'

Rick gave a low whistle. 'I can't imagine it. I know my sister found it tough.'

He paused to allow her a response. Alice completely missed the cue, Jon noted, not even asking what the baby's name was or how it was doing now. Instead she crossed her arms and drew in a breath. 'You just have to get on with it, don't you?'

Jon was watching Rick. Go on, he thought. Mention your sister going to see the doctor. Rick caught his eye and opened his mouth.

Alice spoke first. 'It's good news about that panther isn't it?' Jon sensed the diversion on his wife's part. She'd never normally mention his work inside their home.

'A lot of people must be very relieved,' she continued.

'People were starting to keep their kids in once it got dark.' Her eyes moved back to Holly.

Rick nodded. 'Does the health visitor always manage to turn up at an awkward moment? My sister thought her one had some sensor that told when anyone was about to bath their baby.'

Alice shook her head. 'She doesn't visit any more. I said there was no need. I can take her to the local clinic when she's due to be weighed.'

'What's it like there?'

'I don't know, I haven't been yet.'

Rick looked surprised. 'You should pop in. My sister found it a great way of meeting other mums. There's information about all sorts of groups and meetings too.'

The silence was broken by Jon's phone beeping. Alice and Rick turned to him as he checked the screen. A text message from Nikki Kingston. He slid the phone back into his pocket.

'Work?' Alice asked. He nodded.

She turned to Rick. 'Well, I don't want you getting in trouble by being here.'

Jon saw Rick's face redden at the politely phrased dismissal. He tried to reach for his drink.

'Here,' Alice took Holly back and started straightening her vest.

Rick gulped back his tea. 'Well, good to see you, Alice. We'll have to get Jon to baby-sit so we can go out. How about the cinema?'

She glanced up. 'Maybe in a while. I couldn't leave Holly for that long yet.'

'Course. When you're ready.'

Shocked by his wife's rudeness, Jon stood. 'Right, we'd better be going. I'll ring you. Hopefully it won't be a late one tonight.'

'OK,' she said. The word was full of casual cheer but she didn't meet either of their eyes.

As they walked to the car, Jon clicked on the message.

'Fucking hell.'

'What?'

'The hairs found on Rose Sutton and Derek Peterson? They weren't from the panther shot this morning.'

Rick's mouth fell open. 'That means there's another one out there.'

'Who fucking knows. We need to get back to the station though.' As he started the engine he looked at Rick. 'She isn't right, is she?'

'No. My sister wouldn't admit it, not for months. You need to have a talk with her. I think she knows something's up.'

Jon's eyes were checking the rear view mirror as he pulled out. 'Yeah mate, and when the hell am I supposed to find the time to do that?'

Twenty-Five

Summerby was waiting for him back in the incident room. After updating his senior officer, Jon called everyone round the centre table. 'OK, let's see where everyone's at. First bit of news I have is that the DNA of the panther killed this morning does not, I repeat not, match the DNA from the panther hairs recovered from Peterson and Sutton.'

He watched as the information sank in. DC Gardiner was the first to speak. 'So not only is there a second animal out there, it's the one forensically linked to our victims.'

Everyone looked at Jon for his response. He gestured towards Gardiner. 'Forensically linked is the correct choice of words. That's all the link is. It doesn't conclusively prove a panther killed Peterson and Sutton.'

Murray gave a tentative cough. 'The PM on both victims talks about their injuries being caused by the same type of weapon. A multi-pronged implement. Now we have an actual panther carcass. It's indisputable this animal was living up on the moors. Doesn't that massively increase the possibility there's a second animal out there too?'

'Theoretically, yes. But I'll say again, this is a murder investigation. And we have a prime suspect called Danny Gordon.' He saw the door to the incident room open. McCloughlin stepped through, moving silently along the wall and taking up a position at the edge of Jon's vision.

'Don't mind me.'

Jon tried to resume where he'd left off, but his mind was suddenly blank.

Summerby uncrossed his arms. 'Any word from Aberdeen yet?'

The office manager spoke up. 'They rang in half an hour ago.'

Looking down at a piece of paper, he continued. 'Michael Close is on a week's climbing holiday on the Isle of Skye. Up in the Cuillins apparently and not contactable by phone.'

'Hang on,' Jon said. 'The local nick were meant to check he was available for questioning.'

The other man was still looking down at the message. 'A mix up of dates. He's due back day after tomorrow. Rhea and Ashford are wondering what to do.'

Jon looked away. A day to drive back down, only to then turn round and head straight back up. Shit. Two of his Outside Enquiry Team out of action. 'Tell them to book into a hotel and see if you can send anything up there for them to do. Even if it's just typing up reports for entering into HOLMES. Right, what about Lee Welch?'

Murray opened his notebook. 'Reckons he bumped into Gordon a maximum of four times since their days in the Silver, as he called it. He wasn't the most willing of people I've interviewed, but he claimed they had nothing more than casual chats.'

'Did he have anything to say about Peterson?'

'Not a lot. Said he kept contact with the screws to a minimum.'

Jon wanted to laugh at Welch's choice of words. His whole life had been a rehearsal for his inevitable progression to adult prison.

'Gordon's probation officer?'

'Yes, boss,' Gardiner replied. 'He signed Gordon off last year and hasn't had cause to see him again since. When he had him on his books Gordon was living in a squat in Openshaw. We called at the address, it's still being used as a doss house today. There were a few in there. They hadn't seen Gordon for a few days, said he sometimes hung around with a black guy called Jammer. Medium height, dreadlocks.'

'How's the name spelt?'

Gardiner's shoulder rose and fell. 'They weren't sure. He was just known as Jammer.'

'Anything on the PNC?'

'Nope.'

'OK, what else?'

DC Collins spoke up. 'I had this Jammer person mentioned to me too. I dropped by at the soup kitchen that parks up behind the Piccadilly Tandoori.'

Jon knew the restaurant, a crooked white building that stood marooned on a patch of waste ground opposite the station. He'd fallen in there once after a drinking session round town. Never again. Behind it was a smattering of benches and clusters of bushes. Not near any shops, it had been colonised by a collection of drunks who could be found there at most times of the day, lolling around in various states of oblivion. 'What did the piss- heads have to say?'

'No one had seen him for a few days either. Someone thought Jammer had got hold of some cash, so they'd be getting off their heads at his place.'

'Which is?'

'They didn't know.'

Jon felt no more than a pang of irritation. The net was closing round Gordon. He'd circulate his photo to the entire police force. It shouldn't take long before they hauled him in.

'What about computers?'

Jon turned to Rick. 'What's that?'