Page 77 of Glasshouses

“What would he have to do with anything?”

There I had it. Lily had been friends with The Holding’s leader.

“Was he with her that night?’

“Like I’ve already said, we didn’t investigate the kids she was knocking about with.”

“Even though Stefan was the son of The Holding’s leader, and Andrew Smith was using their accounts to pay the fees for Stefan’s school?”

Terry Jones shifted from foot to foot. “We weren’t looking at The Holding.”

“Remiss, wouldn’t you say, given The Holding was set to benefit from the deaths of the Goodhews?”

“There was no way Lily Goodhew wasn’t responsible, Detective. None.”

“But you didn’t follow the money?”

“There was no reason to. And there’s no reason to now, either.” It was a warning. “Look at Lily for the murder of her mother. She was good with fires.”

“Were you aware that Amanda Goodhew didn’t think Lily was guilty? She’d started to investigate what actually happened that night.”

He picked up the bottle of car wax from the floor and turned away. “You know what they say about scabs, Detective McAllister? You shouldn’t pick them. They can leave scars.” He headed back away, not turning round, not giving us a second look.

Verity’s mouth was agape when I turned to her.

“What?” I walked back to my car. “You think that could’ve gone any better?”

She’d gone in the passenger side. “He’s going to be on the phone already to Wrigley.”

“Maybe. I don’t think it’d be Wrigley. They don’t know each other personally. Look, I could get dragged in someone’s office and given a bollocking for looking at the old case, but it is relevant to what we’re investigating.” I started the engine.

“He could mess up your career, Mia.”

“He won’t.” I was sure about that.

“How are you so certain? I’m scared every time Wrigley calls me into his office, thinking I’m going to be sent to traffic.”

“I’ve dealt with worse than corrupt senior officers, and I still believe that justice slams through everything in the end. Karma’s a bitch.” Although I was still waiting for it to catch some people up.

We drove back in relative silence, just the sound of the traffic and the birds singing, the radio off because both of our heads were already full of noise.

I’d just parked up near the Fishbowl when my phone rang again. Lily’s name came up, programmed into my phone so I didn’t answer it thinking it was an unknown number.

I answered the call, Verity already out of the car and heading off to get a drinkable coffee before reporting back to Wrigley.

“Mia, I think someone’s been following me.” Her words were whispered and rushed. “What should I do?”

“Where are you?”

“I’m in town. He’s been following me for about twenty minutes, even when I go in a shop and come back out again, he’s nearby. I know you must think I’m mad, but I keep seeing him everywhere.” She was panicked, her voice teary.

I should call through and get a city centre cop on it, but this was my case. “Where are you?”

“I’ve gone into Afflecks Palace on Oldham Street. I know a couple of the traders so I can head to them. Can you come and find me?” She sounded like she was moving again.

I debated whether to. I wasn’t a response officer, but Lily was key and I wasn’t sure whether to believe her. I wanted to see her for myself.

“I can. I’m about five minutes away, if that. Where in Afflecks are you waiting?”