Savage Moon

'Any sign of a computer in that squat?' Rick asked Gardiner.

'Computers? They didn't even have electricity.'

'If he was tracking Peterson's movements through Swinger's Haven, he needed access to a computer. Perhaps we should start asking round the internet cafes and local libraries.'

Jon nodded to the allocator. 'Get that actioned. And everyone add this Jammer character to your list. We need him traced and interviewed. Next, Rose Sutton's associates. How's that going?' Gardiner consulted her notes again. 'Thrived on the farm life. Content and cheerful. Seemed like a lovely marriage.' She looked up. 'More comments like that. She appeared to have found herself a happy role in life.'

Bollocks, thought Jon. 'Never be taken in by public personas. There must have been a downside, there's always at least one.' Images of his despondent wife, crying baby and abandoned dog vied for position in his head.

'One person mentioned seeing her crossing some fields to a car park near Holme once or twice. The lady said there was a guilty look about her. The only other thing that seemed worth noting was the issue of losing sheep to the mystery panther. But even then, she viewed it very pragmatically. She would report anything to Hobson, reckoning he was the only person capable of catching it.'

Hobson's name again. It was cropping up too much. 'Ken Sutton suspected his wife of something. The officer at Mossley Brow, Adam Clegg, was holding back on me too. I want to know if Jeremy Hobson and Rose Sutton were having an affair. Let's check him out properly. Is he married? Where does he live? He's an authority on big cats. Where did he study? Now, switching back to Peterson, I don't suppose the door-to-door provided much?'

Adlon shook his head. 'He was regarded as a bit of a recluse. Would nod hello and that was it. Never had any visitors.'

Thought as much, Jon thought. 'OK, you and Paul can have Hobson. Dig around a bit, but keep it discreet. DS Saville and myself talked to James Field. He hadn't seen Gordon in years, but he did provide us with enough information to suspect Peterson was using his capacity as a supervisor in the care home to abuse Gordon and a number of other boys. I have some surnames here. Once Gordon's in custody we'll need to trace these people. As far as I'm aware, none ever made a formal complaint against Peterson, but I bet a few drank a toast to the man's death. Right, let's get going.'

Everyone rose to their feet and from the corner of his eyes, Jon saw McCloughlin head towards the door. He turned to Summerby. 'What was he doing here?'

Summerby smiled regretfully. 'He asked the Chief if he could keep tabs on this, seeing as he hasn't got a major workload at the moment.'

Jon fought the temptation to punch the wall. 'What was your response? I thought you were keeping him off my back?'

'I am, but I can't bar him from meetings. I said things were progressing well, but we need something, Jon. What are your feelings on how soon it'll come?'

Jon sat back. On top of everything else, he thought, I don't need this shit. He wanted to reveal everything happening back home, get some time off, holiday, compassionate leave, anything. So what if the case was looking like a career maker? As Rick had implied, there were more important things in life than the job. But McCloughlin's lurking presence had his hackles up. Another twenty-four hours, he decided. If they hadn't achieved a breakthrough by then, he'd throw in the towel and sod the consequences for his career. 'We're close, I'm certain. I'll put out an alert for Gordon. In fact, what about naming him in a press appeal?'

'Good idea, get on to Gavin Edwards. I'll be upstairs.'

It was just after ten o'clock when he got home. As he unlocked the front door he could see shifts in the glow visible at the edge of the front room curtains. The telly was on. She was still up.

'It's me.' He closed the door behind him, finding himself automatically looking to the end of the corridor again for Punch.

'Hi.'

It was a statement, not a greeting. No warmth in the word at all. Jon pulled in a breath and entered the front room. Seeing that Holly was asleep on her mat, he turned to the sofa. The remote was in her hand and the telly abruptly died. Even though she looked tired, anger shone in her eyes. 'How dare you bring Rick round like that?'

Jon felt his stomach sink. 'Say again?'

'You know. Turning up like that without warning.'

He glanced around. The room was still a mess, another full nappy sack now on the carpet. 'Ali, it's not about how clean the house is. He was more interested in seeing Holly.'

'Oh, that was the reason for the visit then?'

'Yeah, and to see you of course.'

'To see me.'

Jon let his set of keys swing from his middle finger, their movement marking out the silence. I'm too tired for this, he thought, just wanting to sit down and put the telly back on.

'He's concerned for you. The same as I am.'

'What have you been saying?'

Checking Holly was still asleep, Jon perched on the edge of the armchair. 'Ali, Rick's sister has had a couple of kids. She found it really tough going after each baby was born.'

'You've been comparing notes. Discussing me.'

'No, not at all.'

She crossed her arms and drew her knees further up under her. Noting the defensiveness of her posture, Jon continued. 'All I did was mention how knackering it can be.' The urge to sit back in his seat was strong, but he knew he had to keep focused.

'Go on then, what did you say about me?'

Jon sighed. 'Ali, this isn't some sort of conspiracy. He mentioned that his sister found it hard in the first few weeks. She didn't feel able to cope. She became very tearful, just like you said you are sometimes.'

Her shoulders dropped. 'You're saying I'm a failure as a mother.'

'No! Jesus, Ali, stop putting words in my mouth. Rick's sister went to the doctor and it turned out she was depressed.'

'Oh great, so I need happy pills to prop me up. I am not depressed.'

'You're hardly yourself, Ali. What about Punch? You haven't even asked where he is.'

'Will you get it into your thick head that Punch is not part of our family. It's a dog. An animal. It's got more in common with the panther out there than us.'

Jon felt his eyes sting at the harshness of her words. 'That's proof you're not yourself.'

'Punch feels his position in the house is threatened by Holly. No one can predict what it might do to her.'

Jon shook his head. 'That dog would never hurt anyone. It would lay down its life defending us, Holly included.'

'You might be prepared to risk it, I'm not. I'm not going to let anything hurt my baby.'

'So you don't give a shit where Punch is?'

'I was wondering,' she said, avoiding his eyes.

For a second Jon was tempted to say he'd had the animal put down. Just to see what reaction the comment might prompt.

'Senior is looking after him.'

Silence fell. Try again, Jon thought. 'Ali, do you not agree you're tired out?'

'I'd be a lot less tired if I had a husband who got home at a normal time.'

Oh no, Jon thought. You're not turning this on me.

'How many hours have you spent at home recently?'

Jon closed his eyes. Shit. She's got me here. 'Ali, I can't help my job.'

'You can't help trying to take on the world. Why did you let yourself get dragged into this panther business?'

'I didn't let… ' The lie died on his lips. He hadn't just held his hand up for the case, he'd grabbed it with both arms, despite his senior officer's concerns. 'It was just how things developed, I didn't know what it was about to become.'

'You had a choice, Jon, you must have. But you chose to take it on. Look at me and tell me that I'm wrong.'

He dragged his eyes up to her face. 'Ali, I wish it was that simple. There are protocols to be followed, expectations… ' The deceit was poisoning him. My own fucking wife, he thought. If I can't be straight with her, what have I got left?