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He slid the file across the table to Dixon.

‘Did you go to the police with this at the time?’

‘They weren’t interested. I took it to Campbell and he said the witness was unreliable. You can keep that,’ he said, when Dixon picked up the file. ‘It’s a signed witness statement.’

‘Why unreliable?’

‘She was known to police. A drug addict, sex worker, alcoholic; multiple convictions. Campbell said she’d probably read about it or heard it somewhere – the woman in the red coat – it had been in the papers and come up at Rodwell’s trial too, so it had made national news. I’m not daft, I know Campbell had a point, but he could and should have spoken to her.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘Dead. She was found on a bench at Babbacombe Downs; drug overdose, accidental according to the coroner.’

‘When?’

‘Long time ago, maybe twelve years?’ Copeland was watching Dixon closely. ‘I know what you’re thinking, but there was nothing suspicious about it. It was just a matter of time for her, sadly.’ Copeland stood up. ‘Where is Sean these days? He was supposed to be out soon.’

‘At a halfway house.’

‘He really is out then.’ Copeland pursed his lips. ‘I went to see him several times and always found him frank and open, to be honest. They sacked him; eating leftover food was the reason given, but that was an excuse, I think. Sean was just a disgruntled employee who started a fire out of revenge and it got out of hand.’

‘Killing two people.’

‘He never intended to hurt anyone.’ Copeland gave a lopsided grin. ‘You said two, not three.’

‘I did.’

Jane’s text had arrived in the nick of time.

Eaten with mum and dad. There’s plenty in the freezer. Jx

He’d been halfway up the hill with Monty when he got the message, but made it with five minutes to spare – the Red Cow stopped serving food at nine.

Fish and chips, a couple of beers, and he was stretched out on the sofa when Jane arrived home just before midnight.

‘How is he?’

‘He’s fine, I think,’ replied Jane. ‘I got them one of those pulse oximeter things that you stick on your finger, and Mum won’t let him take it off. She’s even banned him from watching the football; he gets too excited. She’s going to drive him round the bend.’

‘At least it’s January so he can leave the bloody garden alone.’

‘She’s locked his tools in the shed and hidden the key.’

‘Pleased to hear it.’ Dixon sat up, watching Jane fending off Monty in the kitchen. ‘It was gone eight before Sarah went home. She is claiming her overtime?’

‘She wasn’t, but I made her fill in the forms.’

‘What d’you think of that fellow Wevill?’

‘I don’t trust him. He keeps going out to take phone calls in the car park. The rest of the Devon lot are fine,’ replied Jane. ‘Hard workers, but he’s a tosser.’ She lowered herself on to the sofa, one hand in the small of her back. ‘I’m beginning to think there are two in there,’ she said, rubbing her abdomen. ‘What’s that you’re watching?’

‘It’s an old Sherlock Holmes with Basil Rathbone.’ He flicked off the TV, plunging the living room into near-darkness, only the streetlights outside finding their way in through a gap in the curtains, a harsh white light from the new LED bulbs. ‘Will you fit into your wedding dress?’

‘Mum’s going to let it out a bit.’ Jane was talking over a yawn. ‘So, it’s all about this baby boy?’

‘Patrick Hudson.’

‘I spoke to Roger and he’s right about a mother shielding her child from the fire. I know I would.’

‘I know you would too.’

‘I forgot to mention, the solicitor rang me today and we exchanged contracts on this place. I knew you wanted to go ahead, so I told him not to bother ringing you. Completion is set for the Friday before we get married.’

‘The thirteenth?’

‘I’m not superstitious.’

‘I noticed that, when we were setting the wedding date,’ said Dixon.

‘Finish this case before then and we might get a honeymoon. I’m not supposed to tell you, but Dad was talking about booking us something as a surprise.’

‘He does know I haven’t got a passport, doesn’t he?’

‘And that you won’t go anywhere without Monty. I’m to let him know, and he’ll find us something in the Lakes.’ Jane leaned over, her head resting on Dixon’s shoulder. ‘I’m almost too tired to go to bed.’

‘I’ll carry you up the stairs,’ he said, sitting up. ‘It’ll be good practice for carrying you over the threshold.’

Are sens

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