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‘It is my business. I’m investigating a murder.’
‘My daughter is innocent.’
‘Then she won’t mind answering a few questions about her finances.’
‘She bought the car on finance,’ Rita said.
Terry turned to Dawn. ‘Did you?’
It was a while before Dawn answered. ‘My dad bought it for me.’
‘What? You told me it was financed,’ Rita said. She removed her hand from Dawn’s.
‘He offered.’
‘So you lied to me?’
‘I didn’t think you’d understand.’
‘What’s there to understand? It’s nothing to do with me if he wants to buy you a car. Why lie, Dawn?’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, tears rolling down her face.
‘And the large-screen TV in your flat?’ Terry asked. ‘Did Dominic buy that for you too?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, her voice barely audible.
‘Did he buy you anything else? Diamonds? A Caribbean cruise? First class tickets to New York?’
‘Don’t be flippant,’ Rita said. ‘He was her father. He hadn’t been in her life for twenty years, and he suddenly came into money. He had every right to buy her things.’
‘He didn’t buy me anything else,’ Dawn said. ‘I didn’t want anything else.’
‘As his next of kin, you will inherit what is left of his compensation claim. You have no alibi for the time of his death. Your grandfather confessed, it seems, to cover up for someone. That someone, I can only assume, is you.’
‘He was my dad,’ Dawn cried.
‘He was a child murderer. It’s not going to look good for a paralegal to have a convicted murderer for a father, especially one who was able to cheat the system and get one million pounds in compensation. It would make for a very nice nest egg if your career takes a nosedive when clients find out your true parentage.’
‘Is she under arrest?’ Rita asked.
‘No.’
‘Then we’re leaving.’ She stood up and practically dragged Dawn off the sofa. ‘If you want to ask her any more questions, you can do it in the presence of a solicitor.’
Rita wrapped her arm around Dawn, pulled open the door and pushed her through. The door slammed closed behind them.
‘Do you think Dawn’s the killer?’ Kyra asked.
Terry inhaled deeply and let the breath out slowly. ‘I think she might be, but if she is, she’s playing a very good game.’
‘How do we catch her?’
‘By playing a better one.’
Chapter Forty-Six
Anthony’s funeral was a week later, on 11 January. There was a very small crowd in attendance. Dawn and Rita and a few of Anthony’s neighbours. Five people standing around the open grave in Blaydon Cemetery as he was lowered into the ground to join his wife. Dawn had cried throughout the service and as she followed the coffin on its journey to the grave.
