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me wants you here to run the investigation into Grantham. Clock’s ticking.’
I knew that. I kept quiet, let her think, and watched her massage her forehead as she did so. I knew
there was no point pushing her. She came to a decision quickly.
‘Right. I’m going to let you go and interview her, Jim, tomorrow morning, not tonight. It’s far too
late.’
I felt a surge of adrenalin, as if I’d had a shot of it into my arm.
‘Thank you, boss.’ I stood up. ‘I’m going to get familiar with everything in her file.’
I wanted to know every detail off by heart; I wanted to pull off the interview of my life. Nicky
Forbes had got to me right from the start.
‘Now listen to me, Jim. You do no such thing. You go home and you sleep. You look like shit.’ She
paused, let me absorb the insult, and then she asked, ‘How are you feeling about Emma?’
That blindsided me. Totally. It took me a moment to pull together a reply.
‘Disappointed, of course. But I’m focused on moving forward, boss.’
‘Don’t fuck about with me; you know what I’m asking. I’m not blind.’
‘Honest truth, boss, I am focused on moving forward, but I’m gutted too. Of course I am.’
‘I’m only going to ask you this once, do you think it’s affecting your judgement?’
‘Not at all. Not one bit.’
She leaned back in her chair, her mind working it through, before she replied. ‘OK. So you go first
thing to interview Nicky Forbes, because I don’t want to leave any stone unturned. Get back here as
quickly as you can afterwards. We couldn’t be more stretched for resources so I shouldn’t really be
letting my deputy go.’
‘Boss—’
‘I’m indulging you here, Jim, so don’t push it. I’ve got a list of interviews as long as my arm that
relate to Lucas Grantham.’
‘I just wanted to know if I would go alone or not.’
‘I can’t send anybody else. I need every body I can get.’
She took off her glasses, which made her look suddenly vulnerable, and she rubbed her eyes, which
were reddened around the rims. As it was late, and her guard seemed to be down just a little, I asked
her something: ‘Boss, do you think he’s still alive?’
‘You know the statistics as well I do. We just have to do what we can.’
Back at my flat, I looked through the case files, poring over every detail, memorising the events that
took place when Nicky Forbes was a girl, rereading all the notes I took after Simon Forbes came in.
It was a jubilant phone call to Fraser that I made at midnight.
‘I found a hole in Nicola Forbes’s alibi. Last Sunday she said she was attending a food festival.
She was definitely there in the morning, but nobody can confirm that they saw her between 13.30 and
22.00 when her husband maintains that she Skyped him from the cottage.’
‘I thought we’d confirmed her alibi?’
‘People said they thought they’d seen her, but it’s a really big event. Tons of stalls selling produce,
cookery demonstrations, that kind of thing, hundreds of folks attending and although she’s quite well
known nobody can actually guarantee that they saw her during the afternoon. They all say she was
definitely there that day, and a friend says that they had lunch together, but after 13.30 none of it’s
reliable.’
‘Good work, Jim,’ she said. ‘Take Woodley with you in the morning.’
‘I thought you couldn’t spare anybody.’