Chapter 47

The home of Sally-Ann Davis was less than a mile from where her body had been found.

Kim had barely had a chance to compose herself before Bryant pulled up behind the squad car outside the house. It didn't matter how many times she spoke to grieving families, it never got any easier.

A pair of shears and a lawnmower had been abandoned on the lawn. From the length of the grass, the job was a week or two overdue. It had probably been put off until it could be delayed no more. Something so mundane, so ordinary, and now it wouldn't get a second thought.

Inspector Plant met them at the door.

‘He's not having it,' the inspector advised as another squad car turned up.

‘He might now,' she said as a constable got out holding Banger.

Bryant took the dog from his arms. It was trembling like a leaf.

‘Come on, buddy – let's get you home, eh?' Bryant said, carrying him up the path.

‘Banger, Banger, come here,' said a man at the door. The dog scrabbled to be reunited with his owner.

‘Mr Davis?' Kim asked, showing her ID.

He nodded, looking beyond her, waiting for his wife to return. Kim's throat constricted at the hope etched into his features.

‘May we come inside?' she asked, eager to close the door so that he knew no one else was coming.

He choked back a sob as he turned away. ‘I don't understand,' he said, taking a seat on the sofa.

The little sausage dog sat dutifully on his lap.

‘Mr Davis, we are so sorry for your loss. I understand that you're in shock right now, but may we ask you some questions?'

‘But how did she die? Was it a hit and run? Are you sure there's been no mistake and it wasn't Sally-Ann?'

Kim looked pointedly at the dog. ‘I'm afraid there's no mistake. Banger was found just feet away from your wife.'

Acceptance seemed to be coming slowly to the man. He was likely to hold on to some shred of hope until he actually saw the proof for himself. An early identification was probably needed in this case.

‘Mr Davis, had your wife been having any problems recently?'

‘What kind of problems?'

‘Strange phone calls, hang ups, messages, emails?'

‘Nothing.'

‘Any mention of being followed or strange people hanging around?'

He shook his head.

‘Any late-night callers? Someone lost and looking for directions?'

‘Nothing of the sort, Officer. Please explain why you're asking.'

Kim now understood why Sally-Ann had been killed out of the house. The first two victims had lived alone.

‘Mr Davis, did your wife walk the dog at the same time every day?'

‘Oh yes,' he said, smiling and patting Banger's head. ‘She says that's the only time the dog feels like hers. He's like this the rest of the day.'

The dog was curled in his lap and appeared to be sleeping peacefully.

Not for the first time Kim found herself wishing that Doctor Doolittle wasn't a work of fiction. This small dog had witnessed the whole thing. Sally-Ann's regular habit had given the killer the perfect opportunity.

Now she had to try and establish a link between Sally-Ann and Sheryl and Andrea.

The question of children was on her lips as the front door burst open.

‘Dad, what the hell?' The woman was mid-twenties with red hair tied back in a ponytail. She seemed not to notice them for a moment. ‘This had better not be another one of your schemes to get me and Mom talking again.'

He looked to them, stricken, and then back at his daughter. ‘Lottie…I…'

Normally, Kim would have considered helping him out and delivering the news herself, but this man needed to utter the words so that he might finally start accepting it.

‘Lottie, please take a seat,' Kim said, standing. ‘Your dad has something to tell you. We'll go and put the kettle on.'

‘Dad, what's going on?' Lottie asked, sitting beside her father.

Bryant closed the door behind them.

Kim had barely got the water in the kettle when a high-pitched, tortured cry filled every room in the house.