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He climbs out, discarding his cigarette butt on the concrete and walking back to his car. She follows him, and he leans across and pushes the passenger door open.

“Get in.”

She climbs inside and fastens her seat belt.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Stop asking so many questions. You’ll see soon enough.”

The Land Rover splutters into life, and he pulls out of the alleyway.

CHAPTER

8

HE’D WANTED TO see it for himself; there’s no substitution for being at the scene of a crime. Griffin had stood, looking at the burned-down house, at the crumbling walls, at the smashed glass, and thought: Were you here?

If he’d been there twenty-four hours earlier, would he have seen him? Would he now know?

But a fire is different. He’d scowled, smoking his cigarette down to the butt, then discarding it on the ground. Even after all this time, his thoughts feel scrambled. He needs to get some rest. To stop thinking about this every moment of the day.

And now she’s here.

Somehow, she’s got out of the hospital. Somehow, despite a head lac and a possible concussion, she’s driving around as night falls and is now sitting in the passenger seat of his Land Rover. He should call Taylor. He should take her back to the hospital, at the very least. But fuck, he can’t stand DS Taylor, never could. She hangs onto investigations like a fetid limpet, never fluctuating from the obvious suspect. She’s so far in the box, she’s almost six feet under.

And this woman, Jessica Ambrose? He recognizes the look in her eyes. That confusion, grief, fear—mixed with dogged determination. He remembers how that felt and how much in the beginning he’d needed someone just to stay with him. A quiet presence to stave away the sinking loneliness.

The isolation he still feels.

He’s been by himself for so long.

But as desperate as he is to talk—to her, to someone, to anyone who will listen—he says nothing. Just lights another cigarette and focuses on the road ahead.

Children’s Services Report—Home Visit

Name of Child: Robert Daniel Keane (DOB 03/31/1986, age 9)

Siblings: none

Date: January 25, 1996

Reason for Referral: Continual absence from school, concerns about well-being of child, flagged by class teacher.

On arrival at the family home on Millmoor Way, I was introduced to Gary Keane (father) and Marcus Keane (uncle, living with the family). The house presented as poorly maintained and dirty. There was evidence of alcohol consumption (empty bottles) and suspected drug use (smell of marijuana) throughout the property.

I asked after Robert’s mother: father said she left in February 1990, when Robert was three; neither Robert nor Gary Keane have seen her since. Robert stayed outside in the hallway while we spoke. We discussed the reason for my visit and Robert’s continued absence from school: father stated that Robert has been bullied by other children and suffers anxiety as a result. He mentioned home schooling, although was unable to expand on this or provide any evidence to this effect.

His father described Robert as generally healthy, sleeping and eating well, although previous health checks at school confirm Robert is underweight, in the second centile for his age and height. He has a scar on his left forehead, in his hairline. Father refused permission for access to Robert’s medical records.

On viewing Robert’s bedroom, I asked about the lack of sheets on Robert’s bed. Father explained they were in the wash because of some problems with bedwetting.

I asked for time alone with Robert, which was granted with initial hesitation from his father. Robert has few toys, with the exception of two large, battered hardback books, which he showed me after encouragement. One is James and the Giant Peach, the other a complicated medical dictionary. I believe these to be library books, although I was unable to confirm. I asked if he could understand the dictionary, and he said he didn’t, but he liked the pictures.

School have stated that Robert is an intelligent child with a reading age beyond his years. He is quiet and shy, but started to open up as our conversation progressed. He refused to answer when I asked if he had any friends, and doesn’t seem to have any other adults or female influences in his life. Throughout our discussion he was holding a notebook bound with an elastic band. He refused to let me see inside, and when I pushed, he shouted, “No,” and said, “It’s mine—you’re not allowed to look at my stuff.”

At the end of the allotted hour for the visit, the father interrupted our conversation, stating, “You need to leave now. We have to go out.”

Recommendations: The home environment is clearly below standards of cleanliness and hygiene, and both caregivers smoke, with regular use of expletives in their language. Because of this, and Robert’s low body weight, I believe he is unlikely to achieve a reasonable standard of health without provision of services from the Local Authority. I would therefore like to refer Robert’s case for an interagency review, with the potential of further specialist assessments from representatives from the Hampshire Constabulary and the Early Help team. In addition, an application for a court order for access to Robert’s medical records is recommended and may shed further light. Referral to an educational psychologist, to be made. Conversation needed with headteacher to explore allegations of bullying, with main priority to get Robert back to school as soon as possible.

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