Chapter 4 note: This chapter deals with the murder of a small child.

"This is insane," Lizzie said, squinting at her computer. "How on earth did someone think this woman was Jane Mayfield. She's twenty years older and two stone heavier."

The tip line had been flooded with supposed sightings of Jane Mayfield almost as soon as the news conference had ended. PCs had been following up each one, hopefully weeding out any that were clearly false. Obviously, when the surveillance footage from a hotel lobby had been sent along, they'd been completely off the mark.

"At least she has long dark hair," James said as he passed by Lizzie's computer with his sixth coffee of the day. While he'd slept heavily for a few early morning hours, he'd woken at six o'clock and left Lia and Grace asleep.

Sightings of Jane Mayfield had come in from all over Oxford, and as far away as Scotland and Wales. None of them had been useful, though a few of the women had heartbreakingly close resemblances. The media had covered the case, relentless in their demands that the "kiddie killer," as they'd taken to referring to the murderer, be caught.

Every hour that passed made it less likely that Jane Mayfield was still alive.

It was late afternoon on the third day after Pippa was discovered when the dark blue Volvo was found in the car park of a large and busy housing complex. Banbury Close was less than three kilometers from the Mayfield house.

Banbury Close consisted of detached and semi-detached townhomes grouped in pseudo villages. Parking was available interspersed through the complex, one spot each assigned to the adjacent homes. The Volvo was found in the larger overflow car park where the visitor slots were located.

The complex management hadn't been concerned about the car remaining in a visitor parking slot for several days. They explained that residents didn't always notify management if they had guests staying for a length of time.

They had all hoped for a break in the case, but James feared this would be the worst possible kind. Uniformed officers and SOCO had beaten the detectives to the car park. Reporters had also arrived, held back outside the gate of Banbury Close by a group of PCs.

Uniformed officers had worked with the housing office to get those residents parked near the Volvo to move their vehicles. Screens shielded the car from reporters' view, due to concern that Jane Mayfield's body would be found inside.

Lizzie went into the office to check on CCTV surveillance. Robbie and James found Laura behind the white canvas screen where she watched a PC use a tool to open the boot of the car. As the lid popped open, James' worst fear was realized. The odor of death wafted up from the interior.

Inside the boot, Jane Mayfield lay curled on her side, knees drawn up. Her hair had been arranged in a glossy swath, draped over her shoulder and spread across her chest. Clad only in a bra and panties, she was covered by a large printed scarf with a poppy motif. Behind the body, items of her clothing were bunched together. SOCO moved in and snapped a series of photographs.

Once the photos were taken, Laura leaned into the trunk, making her examination. "Ligature marks around the neck," she said, moving the scarf down. She lifted Jane's arm. "Rigor has passed."

"Time of death?" James asked.

"From the state of decomposition, I'd say she's been dead several days. Lividity shows she's been on her side for an extended time, probably since shortly after death. I have to do some calculations on the temperature in the car but I think it's quite possible she died around the same time as her daughter."

"Sir," one of the SOCOs said, climbing out of the back seat of the car. "Found this on the floor, near the child seat." He held up a slightly bedraggled brown plush bunny. "There is a handbag on the front floor with a mobile phone that appears to be dead."

"I need to get to Peter Mayfield before he hears about this on the news," James said. "Can you inform the Sabrevilles?"

"Sure. Laura, what time should we come by for the autopsy results," Robbie asked.

"Let's say eight tonight. And bring supper with you when you come," she said with a smile.

"Do you have a preference?" Robbie asked.

"Surprise me."

They conferred with Lizzie before they left. She would continue working on surveillance tapes and sorting out the interview of neighbors who had assigned parking spots near where the Volvo had been found. One of them may have seen the person who parked the car.

"You still don't think Peter Mayfield is our guy?" Robbie asked as they walked out of the building.

"I don't," James said. "And it's not because I identify with Mayfield. I freely admit that I relate to this case. But my gut says he didn't kill either of them. Jane was positioned with great care. Pippa was tossed out like so much rubbish. I can't see Mayfield treating Jane carefully, but not Pippa."

"I'm leaning that way, myself," Robbie agreed. "Be careful with him, though. He's been through a lot in the last few days and could potentially be volatile."

James nodded in agreement as they got into their cars.

Far from volatile, though, Peter Mayfield opened the door with a weary kind of dread.

"Come in," he said. The house had been tidied up, Pippa's toys placed in baskets, the cups and plates cleared away.

"Jane's body has been found," James said. "I'm sorry."

Mayfield seemed resigned, but he would have been preparing himself for this ever since the first shock of Pippa's death. The man stood, head down, arms wrapped around his midsection.

"How?"

"We'll know more after the autopsy, but it appears she was strangled. She was found in her car, parked at the Banbury Close complex. Do you know anyone living there?"

"I don't think so. I've driven by there. You have to pass it to get to the motorway."

"We'll need you to formally identify the body, tomorrow morning."

Mayfield nodded. "I hate thinking that Jane had to watch Pippa being killed."

"We're still analyzing the scene," James said. Would it have been worse for Jane to watch Pippa's murder, or to die knowing her child was helpless and in danger. "I will call you with any information as it becomes available."

When he returned to the station, he found Robbie hanging up his coat, having arrived a moment before. Lizzie called them over to her desk where she was peering at her computer. "The housing office has two cameras trained on the large parking area where Jane's car was found. We looked at the film going back to 3:30 on Tuesday afternoon when Jane left the house. The image is pretty grainy and gets worse when it gets dark. But we see the Volvo showing up at 6:52 that evening, here."

They watched the car pull into the parking slot. Almost a minute passed before the driver's door opened and a figure appeared. Lizzie had been right, the footage was too grainy and poorly lit to identify the driver. The figure was fairly tall and broadly built, wearing a dark hoodie and jeans. The hood was pulled up over the figure's head which was looking downward. The driver stepped away from the car, unfortunately into a shadow cast by some bushes, before walking quickly out of frame.

"That doesn't look like Peter Mayfield," James said. "This person is bigger and taller. And Mayfield was already with Erica Winton by half past six on Tuesday. We'll need to release this footage to the press. The quality isn't good, but someone may recognize his gait or clothing."

Moody poked his head into the office to see the footage and go over the few facts that they knew so far about today's discovery. "I expect a full report tomorrow on what we know. And we need to release the footage to the press."

"We'll get on that," James said, hoping he had kept any sarcasm out of his voice. "We're meeting with Dr. Hobson in around half an hour."

Moody left them to carry on. "James, Lizzie, any preferences for dinner?" Robbie asked. "Laura wants to be surprised."

After some discussion, mostly between Robbie and Lizzie, Italian was chosen. James didn't have much interest in food and busied himself with still photos from the car park footage. A variety of entrees were ordered and Robbie picked up the order on the way to meet Laura.

The three detectives convened at the morgue, leaving the food in a conference room nearby. They found Laura standing by the draped body of Jane Mayfield.

"Not many surprises, really, but I did find this," Laura said, folding the sheet down to below the shoulders. She drew their attention to the neck area where there was significant bruising and turned Jane's head to the side.

"From fibers embedded in the bruising, she was strangled with that red and white print scarf. But look at this deeper bruising here." She held a magnifying glass over the skin, showing a faint pattern of connected little loops. "I think she was wearing a necklace and the scarf caught it against her skin. We didn't find a necklace with her which would suggest it was removed and carried off by whoever killed her."

"As a trophy, perhaps," Robbie said. "Was there sexual activity?"

"Nothing internal, but there was seminal fluid dried on her thighs and the front of her panties. Her murderer either purposefully ejaculated on her body, or prematurely before he could complete a sexual assault. Jane fought back and scratched him pretty badly. There was skin under her fingernails. I've sent the samples off for DNA testing."

"What about the DNA results from the blood on the coat?" James asked.

"Oh, yes," Laura said. "The DNA profile doesn't match either parent." Laura indicated to the morgue attendant that he could return the body to refrigerated storage.

"I'd be very surprised if it didn't match the DNA samples on Jane," James said.

"What's for supper?" Laura asked as they left the morgue. James smiled to himself. What a macabre little group they were, moving from the examination of a corpse to an Italian dinner.

The conference room smelled appetizing, surprising considering where they were. They filled their paper plates and dug into penne pasta, seafood lasagna and chicken scaloppine.

James took a small amount of the scaloppine and a slice of Italian bread. He hoped his companions would be too engrossed with their own meals to notice his modest plate of food.

"Lad, I haven't seen you take more than a few bites of anything in days," Robbie said. Apparently James was not going to catch a break tonight.

"This is plenty," James replied. "I was looking at the SOCO report. There were fingerprints on the steering wheel, interior and exterior of the car, a thumbprint on the release button on the child car seat that are not a match for Jane or Peter. A rather sloppy criminal, I would think."

"Good job changing the subject," Robbie said. "But I agree. We're probably dealing with a disorganized killer. Jane Mayfield was a very beautiful girl. Was someone fixated on her?"

"Those prints didn't show up in any of the national databases," Lizzie said as she took a bit more lasagna. "Rare to have murder as the first offense."

"This leaves us back at square one," Robbie said.

They were truly at square one. The next few days felt like they were re-climbing the hill they'd just tumbled down. The prospect of a cold case was always present, like a wraith hiding in the darkened corner.

James again spoke to the press as they provided the video images of the man in the car park. This time, the questions were notably more pointed and the reporters more demanding of answers, answers that James did not have to give them. And outrage at the lack of progress was definitely the theme of the current news coverage.

PCs re-interviewed neighbors, this time asking questions about anyone watching the Mayfield house or who might have expressed an unusual interest in Jane Mayfield. None of the interviews turned up anything useful.

James touched base with Peter Mayfield as he'd promised, though he had very little to tell him. He asked Peter if Jane had worn jewelry that day.

"She'd stopped wearing her wedding band the last few weeks. She wouldn't wear any of the jewelry I'd given her over the years. It's all up in the bedroom as far as I know. The only thing she wore lately was the necklace I'd given her when Pippa was born. It had a tiny pair of footprints on a gold chain. The date of Pippa's birth was on the back of the charm. I guess she associated it with Pippa and not me. Why?"

"We think the killer may have taken something post mortem."

"Be honest with me," Mayfield said. "Are you going to be able to solve this?"

It was a knife's edge between giving Mayfield hope and lying to the man. "We're working very hard to solve this. We hope the footage will generate some new information from the public."

Mayfield seemed very close to giving up hope. There was a very good chance that they would not be able to give the family any justice for Pippa and Jane. That possibility haunted all of them.

"The placement of Jane's body indicates some level of regard," James said to Robbie at the end of another long, fruitless day. "He didn't care about Pippa. Maybe he didn't realize she was in the car. He only wanted Jane. But we have no reports of any obsessive interest in her."

"Perhaps it was a new fascination, or maybe he flew under the radar, to the point Jane didn't notice."

"I can see that," James said. "Life is busy with a young child and a job and a woman as pretty as Jane probably grew used to receiving mens' stares."

James went over the interviews with Mayfield, Jane's parents and coworkers looking for anything that might have been missed. He continued to leave the house early in the morning before his family was awake and to arrive home late in the evening. He'd find Lia asleep on the sofa, the telly tuned to a baking or home renovation show. He wished she'd go up to bed when she was tired and really rest, but he knew she wanted to reassure herself that he was in one piece.

So he'd wake her and walk upstairs with her and with a kiss he'd tuck her in. Lia would look deeply into his eyes, checking his mental wellbeing. He would lie to her that he'd come to bed very soon and she would not call him out on the untruth.

Every night, he'd sit by Grace's bed, watching her breathe, rubbing her back. One night the urge to hold her was so strong, he gave in and lifted the sleeping child out of bed and sat in the rocking chair with her wrapped in a blanket. In the morning, an additional blanket had been draped over both parent and child.

James consumed too much coffee and cigarettes. Robbie insisted on communal meals with the team, which James had to admit ensured he ate at a little food. He wondered if Robbie and Lia were conspiring to take care of him.

"I know this is killing you," Robbie said, at the end of another unproductive day. "But this case may grow cold. That's terrible with a case like this, but it isn't because we didn't do our jobs."

"I'm not ready to let this one go," James said. It was approaching a week. Would the weeks turn to months and then to years with no resolution?

The next morning, James was at his desk, poring over the fingerprint data when Robbie came into the room with another pile of potential leads from the car park video footage. The main station phone had gotten a lot of "weird cousin" and "scary coworker" calls over the last few days, all of which had proven to be nothing more than creepy but ultimately harmless people living among the rest of the population.

An animated Lizzie caught James' eye as held her phone and scribbled notes into her pad. Putting down her phone, she jumped up from her chair. "Sir, the desk sergeant has a young woman who says she has information on the Mayfield case. Sounds like it might be something."

"Let's go," James said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice.

A casually dressed woman in her early 20s was waiting for them by the desk. She seemed nervous, but determined.

"I'm Inspector Hathaway, and this Inspector Lewis and Sergeant Maddox." James extended his hand.

"Rachelle Dixon," she said as she shook his hand.

"Let's find somewhere where we can talk," James said. "Would you like coffee or tea?"

She shook her head as they walked to an interview room. James and Lizzie sat across from Rachelle. Robbie perched on the edge of a cabinet at the back of the room. James appreciated the distance Robbie was giving him to run the interview.

"You said you had information for us," Lizzie said.

"Yeah. Um. It may be nothing, I really hope it's nothing. My step brother is the same size as the guy in that video. He's a really weird guy."

"Weird in what way?" James asked.

"Where do I start? He hardly ever comes out of his room and when he does, he leaves a mess everywhere. He plays online video games all night, and he yells at the computer and throws things when he's losing. He's like the worst roommate you ever had."

"Was he always like this?" James asked.

"He only just moved in with us in the spring. He was living in Manchester with his mum, but he got in trouble for bothering some girl so got packed off to live with his dad-my stepfather. Next thing you know, my sister was moved into my room and he's got hers."

"That must have been very irritating, having to share." James wondered if this was another "creepy but harmless" situation.

"It was annoying, but my sister went off to uni last month, so it's not that bad. But he's been especially horrid, pretty much all week. Blows up at us for no reason, he threw a glass across the kitchen at Mum when she asked him to put it in the sink. He threatened her, for God's sake."

"What's your step-brother's name?" James asked. Maybe there was something here.

"Justin Halford. He's twenty and works part time at a video game store. The threatening and throwing things is only part of it. He pinched my concealer."

"He pinched your what?" James asked.

"Concealer," Rachelle said. "It's makeup in a stick to cover up spots. I kept it in my makeup bag in the bathroom"

"Oh, yes," James said. He remembered Nell using something like that.

"And then I saw that Justin had these stripes of concealer on his face."

"When did you notice him using the makeup?" James asked.

"It was Wednesday, the day before the news about the little girl. I didn't really think much about it. As I said, he's generally weird. But a few days later, I had a spot and realized my concealer was gone. It's pricey and I wanted it back. Justin locks his door, which he doesn't realize is useless. My sister used to have that room. I've been able to pick the lock since I was eleven. So, I went in. I didn't find the concealer. I didn't even look for it because it was so crazy in there."

"Crazy?" James repeated.

"There were pictures all over the wall, posters from the video game store, drawings of women, like in comic books, with really long hair and big eyes. And there were photos. They looked like the woman from the newspaper. And the little girl was in some of them with her. I recognized them from the news. I took some pictures."

"May I see?" James asked. It took everything in him to stay in his seat and not fly around the room.

"Sure," she said, taking the phone out of her purse and opening the photo app. She handed it to James. Lizzie and Robbie came to stand behind him as he looked at each of the pictures. Several were taken of Jane leaving a building.

"That's the office building where Jane worked," Lizzie said, pointing.

Other pictures showed Jane with Pippa outside an ice cream shop. James pulse raced when he got to a photo of Jane and Pippa enjoying ice lollies outside the shop. Pippa in her little red coat reminded him so much of his own daughter that it hurt.

"I think the ice cream shop is across from the video game store," Rachelle said.

"With your permission, I'm going to send these photos to my work email," James said. Rachelle nodded and he selected the pictures and emailed them. He handed her phone back and stood up. "Rachelle, who is at your house right now?"

"Probably just my mother. My step-father and Justin are both at work."

"Does your mother own the house?" James asked. At Rachelle's nod, he continued, "Would she grant us permission to search Justin's room?"

"I think she would. Justin really frightened her."

"Thank you. If you'll give us a minute, we'll be right back."

The three detectives stepped out into the hallway. "We have to move on this very quickly. I'm going to brief Moody. Lizzie, I want you to take a couple of uniforms and pick up Justin at his job and bring him here. We have more than enough evidence to interview him. Robbie, I'd like you to take Rachelle back to her house and search that bedroom."

As James predicted, the case moved rapidly. In a matter of hours, Justin sat in an interview room as the team looked over the evidence Robbie had brought back from the house.

It was a treasure trove, possible enough to charge Halford even without DNA and fingerprint evidence. Posters advertising vampire-related video games featured ethereal pale women, all with flowing dark hair and filmy clothing, bodices barely covering breasts. There were the photos of Jane and Pippa and a number of drawings apparently done by Justin showing a woman in fantasy garb who looked remarkably like Jane Mayfield.

The most important piece of evidence found in Justin's bedroom was the gold chain with the footprint charm. The date on the back was Pippa's birthday.

Robbie had sent Peter Mayfield photos of the necklace and he had identified it as one Jane had been wearing that day. That would be a major key to the case, especially if the chain bore Jane's DNA along with Justin's.

The photo of the necklace as well as the photos and drawings from the display in Justin's room had been encased in plastic evidence bags. James arranged them in a specific order, from least to most damning. He shuffled them into a file folder.

"Can you get some wet paper towels," he asked Lizzie. "I want to remove that concealer from Justin's face."

"Way ahead of you," Lizzie replied, removing a packet of makeup remover towelettes from her pocket.

"Lizzie, you are the best," James said. "Ready?"

"Ready," Lizzie said. As they had with Peter Mayfield's interview, Robbie and Joe Moody would be observing.

Justin Halford sat alone at the table. His facial features were smallish and seemed a bit crowded together, his hair hanging limply to his shoulders. He was obviously nervous, eyes darting between James and Lizzie and the uniformed officer standing by the door. As Rachelle had said, Justin appeared to have makeup in long streaks down his cheeks.

He was wearing jeans and a gray hoodie. Justin's shoes had been taken to be compared with the footprints found at the roadside where Pippa had been found. He was wearing socks and plastic shower sandals.

"Justin, I understand Sergeant Maddox explained to you why you're here," James said.

"Yeah, but I don't know anything about that lady and the little kid in the newspaper."

"You seem to have some makeup on your face," James said. "I'd like you to remove that, please."

Lizzie pulled several towelettes from the package and handed them to Justin. He seemed panicked, as if he wanted to refuse. Finally, he wiped the towelettes over his face revealing long, half-healed deep scratches on his cheeks.

"How did you get those scratches, Justin?" James asked.

"I fell into some bushes when I walked home from the pub."

"That doesn't seem likely," James said. "Scratches from a bush would be all over your face. Those look like scratches from fingernails."

"It was bushes." Justin tried for defiant, but the fear wafted off him.

"Your stepmother gave us permission to search your room. I'd like to go over some interesting items we found there."

"She had no right. That's my room!" he sputtered, rising from his chair. The officer by the door stepped closer and Justin sat down.

"She owns the home. She had every right to allow us access. Now, I'd like you to look at some pictures that were recovered from your room."

James slid a photo of the video store poster across to Justin. "You had a number of these in your room, Justin. She's very beautiful. Who is she?"

Justin seemed to be torn between keeping his mouth closed and talking about a subject that was close to his heart. "She's Princess Valandra. She's the only one who has ever triumphed over the curse of the vampires. She's hunted by both the vampires and the vampire hunters because she's so powerful."

James pulled out some of the drawings and spread them over the table. "Did you draw these?" James asked. At Justin's nod, he continued, "You're very talented. Why do you like this character?"

Justin shrugged, but his eyes never left the pictures. "I don't know."

"There must be something that draws you to her. You've spent a lot of time creating these sketches."

Justin's gaze never left his artwork. "She's fearless. Mystical. Powerful."

James finally brought out the photographs of Jane and Pippa. "Do you know who these people are, Justin?"

Justin shook his head. His face was beaded with sweat. "No."

"So why did you take the photos? I believe that the ice cream shop is across the road from where you work."

"She looked like Princess Valandra."

"There are other photos of the woman, Justin, taken at her workplace. You followed her there, didn't you?"

"It's not against the law," Justin said, his voice quavering.

"The woman and little girl that you took photographs of have been murdered. That's very serious."

"It's just some pictures."

"Now, I think you saw Jane at the ice cream shop and became fixated on her. So, tell me, how did you get close to her? Such a beautiful woman probably gets a lot of attention. I imagine she acts like ordinary blokes are invisible."

"She wasn't like that," Justin said. "Valandra is kind and good."

"We're talking about Jane. I think you saw her driving and got her to let you into her car. Perhaps you said you needed a ride. You know, I don't think you even realized little Pippa was in the car seat."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Justin said, the pitch of his voice was getting higher with fear.

"We found something else in your room, Justin," James said, pulling the last photos out of the file folder. He slid the photographs of the footprint necklace across the table. "This was around Jane Mayfield's neck the day she disappeared. It was around her neck when she was strangled. And it was found in your room." James turned to Lizzie and nodded.

"Justin Halford," she said. "I'm arresting you on suspicion of the murders of Jane Mayfield and Pippa Mayfield. You do not have to say anything. But, it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence."

Lizzie took a DNA sample from Justin and took him to be fingerprinted. He looked like he'd been zapped with a stun gun as he was led off to a jail cell. Laura would do her best to get the DNA profile as soon as possible. With such a high profile crime, she hoped to have results within 24 hours.

James had no doubt that the fingerprints and DNA would match, but he couldn't quite shake the thought that something could go wrong. Moody congratulated the team, cautiously optimistic that they had the right man in custody. The detectives spent the evening reviewing the evidence, making sure all was in order. The next day was long and tense.

"Anyone here looking for good news?" Laura asked from the office doorway.

"I'd settle for moderate news," James said. "What do you have for us?"

"We hit the jackpot on forensic evidence," Laura said as she sat down at his desk, opened a file folder and began to scan the reports. "Fingerprints on the steering wheel, passenger and driver side interiors, and baby seat latch are all a match for Justin Halford as well as those on the boot. The blood on the red coat and the semen on Jane Mayfield matched his DNA. His DNA was also found on the necklace clasp."

"Can we tie him to Pippa beyond the latch and the coat?" Robbie asked.

"Pippa was suffocated with a hand over her nose and mouth,using a cloth. Turned out that cloth was the same scarf that strangled Jane. It had Pippa's DNA, mostly from the mucus in her nose on one side and Justin's DNA on the reverse."

They interviewed Justin Halford again, and in light of the evidence, hoped he would confess to the crimes and give them a narrative. But Halford sat stone faced against their questions, refusing to tell them how Jane and Pippa lost their lives.

Some suspects couldn't help but spew the story as if the details were clawing their way out. Others thought they were the smartest people in the room, enjoying the game, often giving details inadvertently. Halford simply wouldn't engage, leaving the detectives unsatisfied.

But the forensics were there and the case was solid even without a confession. Finally, the investigation was over and James could exhale again. Justin Halford was formally charged with the murders. It would be up to CPS to try him for the crimes.

"You did a good job," Joe Moody said after they'd charged Halford. "I've been where you were and I know how hard it is to go home at night and stand over your sleeping children and hope they stay safe. But with all of that, you solved it."

"We never would have if the step-sister hadn't come forward. Blind luck, really. If Halford hadn't stolen her makeup to cover the scratches, she wouldn't have gone into the room and seen the photographs."

"Don't discount the hours you all put in on this one. Mayfield and Jane's parents will have at least the comfort of knowing Halford won't be able to hurt anyone again."

James thanked him and returned to his office, where Robbie and Lizzie were decompressing after the frustrating interview.

"Can you two inform the Sabrevilles?" he asked. "I'm going to see Peter Mayfield. And yes, I will bring a PC with me."

James made a trip down to the evidence room to see if it would be possible to release an item to Mayfield. Luckily, that item did not contain Halford's DNA and would not be used in a trial. He slid it into a large padded mailing envelope.

He caravanned to the Mayfield house with an impossibly young PC and instructed the officer to wait outside. Mayfield had exhibited no animosity toward James when he'd called to tell him that they'd arrested Halford, pending the results of the forensics.

"I have some news," James said, when Mayfield admitted him to the house. "We charged Justin Halford with both murders. The fingerprints and DNA matched. CPS considers the case to be solid."

"Thank you for letting me know."

"I know this has been horrible for you," James said. "And I recognize that I made it worse."

"Are you asking me for forgiveness?" Mayfield asked, wryly.

James shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps I am. I put you through the wringer."

"Don't look to me for absolution," Mayfield said. "The truth is, I lied to you and brought the third degree down on myself."

"Peter, for whatever part I played in what must be the worst week of your life, I am sorry."

"You're Catholic, aren't you?" Mayfield asked, laughing. James looked down with a tiny smile. "Your guilt is a dead giveaway, I think you're not going to let this drop unless I give you a penance. Here it is: don't take your wife and children for granted. Learn from my mistake."

James nodded. He couldn't imagine ever forgetting what Lia and his children meant to him, but he made a vow to himself never to let that happen.

"I have something for you,' James said, gathering his composure. He handed Mayfield the padded envelope. "This isn't needed for the trial."

"Oh my god, thank you," Mayfield said, voice rough with emotion as pulled out the contents of the envelope. "Pippa's bunny. I want to put this in her arms when we lay her to rest. I know it's a lot to ask, but I hope you will come to the funeral."

"I will be there," James said, extending his hand. "I had better be getting back." They shook hands and parted ways.

James took a moment on the way back to the station to stop and walk near the river where Pippa had been found. He smoked a cigarette and called Lia. It was late afternoon, and the sun was low in the sky.

"It's finished. We charged Justin Halford."

"Thank God," Lia said. "How are you?"

"I'm okay," he replied. "I really am. I'll be home in time for supper. In fact, I'll bring it with me."

James got back to the station to find Laura in the office with Robbie and Lizzie. "We're going out for a pint. Moody's buying," Robbie said. "You in?"

"I haven't seen Grace with her eyes open in a week. I had better take a rain check."

"Away with you, lad. You need to be with your family," Robbie said, with a smile and a gentle slap to James' back.

Note: In the Lisa Mandarach case, which was the inspiration for this case, the murderer, Caleb Farley, had makeup on when he was questioned. It was wiped off revealing the scratches. And so, I ripped that detail from real life.

We're nearing the end of this case, but another one is coming right behind it.