Amelia smiled with more warmth this time, and he returned it. ‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘I can’t help you with any personal stuff, but if it’s about work, share it.’
Charlie went back into the reception area, and saw Donia duck back into his room, as if she had been eavesdropping in the doorway. He looked at Linda, who just shrugged.
Something about Donia wasn’t right.
Sheldon drove quickly to Ted Kenyon’s house, accompanied by Tracey. Christina had given a statement and made her own way home.
‘How are we going to play this?’ Tracey said.
Sheldon thought about that for a moment. He had a history with Ted, because Ted blamed his team, including Sheldon himself, for his daughter’s killer still being free. Ted had been angry with Billy Privett at first, but as Billy kept his secrets, Ted had turned on the police. Had it gone full circle and Ted taken the ultimate revenge?
‘We have to treat him as a suspect,’ he said.
‘Are we bringing him in?’
‘No, not yet, unless we find something.’
Sheldon’s mood darkened during the trip along the edges of Oulton until he turned into a street lined by hedgerows, with large detached stone houses set high from the road, sitting at the top of terraced lawns, the borders awash with colour. It was pretty, a bit of old Lancashire charm, and it was those qualities that had propelled Alice’s story into the public consciousness. Ted had grafted for what he had, to give his daughter the best chances in life – until her life had been taken away by someone who most people thought didn’t deserve his wealth.
Sheldon thought back to the drive he had made a year earlier, to tell the Kenyon family that Alice had drowned in Billy’s pool.
Ted Kenyon’s house was in the middle of the row, with a dark wooden bay window and a hanging basket filled with bright purple flowers next to double wooden doors. Clematis clung to a wall trellis like large tissues that fluttered in the light breeze. There was a small knot of photographers outside.
‘Should we carry on?’ Tracey said. ‘It might look bad with the cameras there.’
Sheldon shook his head. ‘Just be casual and make it look like a courtesy visit.’
He parked further along the street, just so that the reporters wouldn’t crowd round. As he climbed out of the car, he checked his pocket for the rattle of the blue pills, before marching up the sloped drive, towards the front door. Sheldon rapped on the door and waited, Tracey catching up with him.
‘They’re just killing time before the press conference,’ Sheldon said, staring at the door, ignoring the clicks from the camera lenses.
When the door opened, it was Emily, Alice’s mother. She had been less vocal than Ted, had dealt with her grief more privately, but from the shock of grey hair that had appeared since her daughter’s death, Sheldon knew that the sorrow was just as deep.
Emily’s polite smile faded. ‘I thought it was another reporter,’ she said, and folded her arms.
‘Mrs Kenyon,’ he said. ‘Can we have a word?’
‘We know about Billy Privett,’ she said, her voice quiet.
‘And that’s what we need to talk about.’
Emily frowned and stepped aside. ‘All right, come in.’
Sheldon went past her, wiping his feet as he went, Tracey behind him. Alice’s brother walked towards them along the hall. A young man, twenty years old, his hair dyed black, but the paleness of his skin told Sheldon that he had the same colouring as Alice. Bright red hair. He looked briefly at Sheldon before going upstairs.
Sheldon followed Emily into the front room. He knew he had interrupted something. There were two cups on a table, both half full, with wisps of steam coming from them. No television, no radio, no newspapers or books left open. Ted and Emily must have been talking.
He hadn’t seen Ted for a few months and Sheldon was surprised to see how he looked. Ted had gone quiet once the press caught him with that young woman, and it looked like the bad publicity had taken its toll. His skin looked more drawn, some of the colour gone, as if he didn’t get as much fresh air. He didn’t acknowledge Sheldon at first, just stared straight ahead, but when he looked up, he gestured towards the chair. ‘Sit down,’ he said, his voice terse.
Sheldon did as he was told, the leather on the large green sofa creaking as he sat down. Tracey sat further along.
Ted considered them for a moment and then said, ‘You’re going to want to know where I was last night.’
Sheldon was about to say no, that they had come just to give him the news about Billy, but he could tell from the rise of Ted’s eyebrow that he didn’t expect to be taken for a fool. He was a suspect and he knew it.
Sheldon nodded. ‘Yes, I would like to know.’
‘I was here,’ Ted said, and then pointed to the doorway. ‘Emily will confirm it, and so will Jake.’
‘You don’t know what time I’m talking about.’
‘It doesn’t matter what time,’ he said. ‘I was here. If it was early, I was watching television. If it was after midnight, I was in bed.’
‘What did you watch?’
‘Just the usual rubbish. There was a police thriller on. You know the type, where plenty of people die before the killer is caught.’
Sheldon swallowed at the dig. ‘Can anyone else verify that you were here last night?’
Ted smiled, but there was no warmth to it. ‘What, other than my family? Isn’t their word good enough?’ When Sheldon didn’t respond, Ted waved his hand towards the rest of the house. ‘Have a look round. See if you can find anything suspicious.’
Sheldon looked at Tracey, who nodded that they should, because they might not get the invite again.
They went to the kitchen first. Tracey went to the washing machine to look for bloodied clothes, but it was empty. Emily was right behind her. ‘Have you got a dryer?’ Tracey said.
Emily pointed to a door. ‘In the garage.’
‘What were you watching?’ Sheldon said.
Emily looked confused.
‘On the television,’ he said. ‘I can check the listings, to see if there were any police shows on last night. Can you remember the name?’
Emily folded her arms. ‘Like Ted said, a police drama. I forget what it was called.’
Sheldon nodded an acknowledgement that he wasn’t going to get any more information, and then he went into the garden as Tracey went to the garage.
The lawn was long and neat, with plenty of colour, as if it was tended regularly. He was looking for evidence of recent bonfires or digging, but couldn’t see anything. He walked over to the dustbins and lifted the lids, but there was nothing suspicious.
As he walked back to the house, Tracey joined Sheldon as she came in from the garage. She shook her head. Nothing.
They went back into the house, Emily leaning against the kitchen worktop, glowering as they came in. Sheldon ignored her and went towards the stairs. They were lined by pictures of Alice, so that going to bed must be like walking through a memorial; Alice as a young girl, pigtails and thick glasses, and then as a teenager coming to bloom, her school skirt too short, her jumper too long. There were no pictures of Jake, Alice’s brother.
There were three bedrooms upstairs. The door to one of the bedrooms was open and so they went there first. The double bed confirmed that it was Ted and Emily’s bedroom. There were more pictures of Alice in there, on the wall and in small frames on the