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A pair of black-booted feet stomped threateningly into view, followed by denim-clad legs, before the full figure appeared. He wore a dark bomber jacket over a checked shirt, and his greying hair was tied back at the nape of his neck. But what really caught her attention was the long carving knife he held in his hand.

‘What a nice surprise,’ he said in a gravelly voice.

Lottie recognised him from the photo Kirby had shown her.

‘Robert Hayes, I presume.’

76

Bryan O’Shaughnessy was sick to death of Detective Sergeant Matt Mooney, and when he saw the detective’s car pull into his yard, he felt like sprinting for the hills. Instead, he remained standing at the wall, spade in hand, ready to use it if his temper was ignited.

‘The very man,’ Mooney said.

‘What do you wantthistime?’

‘I wanted to congratulate you for punching Denis Wilson in the eye, but that doesn’t seem appropriate now, in the sad circumstances.’

‘What sad circumstances do you mean?’

‘Ann Wilson is dead. Murdered.’

‘What…?’ Bryan looked one way then the other, conflicted at Mooney’s news. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. Grace will be so shocked. But it has nothing to do with me.’

‘I think it does. Whether directly or indirectly, you assaulted Denis yesterday afternoon, and now his wife is dead. Where were you last night?’

‘Do you get off on this, Mooney? Accusing innocent people day in and day out. No wonder you haven’t found the killer. You’re too busy hounding me. Read my lips. I did not harmanyone. But if it saves you time, I admit I hit Wilson. He deserved it. I certainly did not kill his wife. I don’t believe I’ve ever met the woman.’

‘Your bride-to-be met her. On numerous occasions.’

‘Grace? You are a fucker, Mooney. Grace got her to make her wedding dress. She paid for it and collected it yesterday. You think that’s a motive for murder? As far as I know, she was happy with Mrs Wilson’s work.’

‘I don’t believe Ann’s death has anything to do with Grace, but it may have something to do with you.’

‘You are clutching at the proverbial here, Mooney. I was at home all night. Grace can vouch for me. Now fuck off and find someone else to blame.’ Bryan tightened his grip on the spade.

‘Calm down. I’m not blaming you. I will have to interview you shortly, but my priority at the moment is to warn you to be careful. Denis Wilson will be like a loose cannon now…’

‘He’s always been a loose cannon.’

‘… and he may well target you for revenge.’

‘Revenge for what? Clocking him yesterday?’

‘For his wife’s murder.’

Bryan lifted the spade and took a step forward. ‘I told you, I was nowhere near his wife. Not yesterday, not ever.’

Mooney stood his ground. ‘You will have to offer proof of that at the station. Wilson knows you were arrested and released without charge. He believes you murdered all those people. He will definitely think you killed his wife. I’m here to warn you and your lovely Grace to be careful.’

‘I suppose you’re going to provide me with protection as well as an empty warning.’

‘Just be vigilant, Mr O’Shaughnessy. Call into the station later today. I need details of your whereabouts for the last twenty-four hours.’

Bryan watched the detective get back in his car and drive off. Grace came out to the yard.

‘What’s going on, Bryan?’

‘I wish I knew.’