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  That news stopped Callie in her tracks.

  “What time Saturday?”

  Linda checked.

  “He was seen by out of hours at five thirty. An ambulance was called and the doctor stayed until he was on his way. Then there’s a note that the hospital called to say he was discharged Sunday morning with a psychiatric follow-up appointment in two weeks, and the out of hours doctor called round Sunday afternoon to check on him as requested but there was nobody home.” Linda handed Callie the sheet and she read it eagerly.

  “Thank goodness for that.” Callie felt relieved. She had been increasingly convinced that he couldn’t be the murderer but that he might confess anyway. Now Miller would have to drop him as a suspect. He had an alibi. If he went to hospital by ambulance at five thirty, he would have been in the emergency department for at least two hours and more likely four on a Saturday night, and there were security cameras around, and people like nurses, receptionist, other patients who would be able to testify that he was there, and once on a ward, say ten o’clock, quite possibly sedated, he would be under the watchful eye of the night staff, who had almost certainly been tasked with checking on him at regular intervals. There was no way Mark Caxton could have sneaked out, stolen a car and killed a woman unnoticed. Miller would have to let him go. Callie hurried down to her consulting room to make the call, just in case Mark hadn’t already told them that he was in hospital at the time of the latest murder.

  * * *

  “There is absolutely no way he could have done it.”

  Callie took a bite of her prawn salad on wholemeal bread. When Callie had phoned the police station, she had been told that Miller was already on his way to the surgery to see her and was doubly surprised when he appeared clutching a brown paper bag holding fresh sandwiches from a local bakery.

  “We are doing our best to prove or disprove it.”

  Miller looked tired although he was tucking into his ham and mustard roll with obvious hunger. Callie could sympathise. He must have been working every hour since the second body was found, not just trying to find the killer, but also dealing with the press and distraught families. Food and sleep would have taken a back seat.

  “We’re speaking to staff and reviewing CCTV footage to see if there’s any possibility of him leaving, but, I agree, it doesn’t seem possible.”

  Much as he would have liked it to have been, Callie thought as they both continued to eat. Miller saw Mark as the obvious suspect, but she saw him as the easy suspect and life was never that easy. Even if the night nurse fell asleep, getting out of the hospital ward, not to mention back in, before he was missed would be nigh on impossible.

  “Particularly as he was sedated soon after he arrived,” Miller continued with his mouth full.

  Callie sent up a silent prayer of thanks. They absolutely had to scratch Mark as a suspect now.

  “The, um, second victim was identified by her husband initially from a necklace she always wore, but that’s now been confirmed by dental records. She’s a Carol Johnson, married, no children, and you are listed as her doctor,” Miller said.

  “That’s right. Both she and her husband, although I don’t think I’ve ever seen him.”

  “Anything you can tell us about her?”

  “I looked her up as soon as I realised, but there’s little in the records apart from birth control and well woman checks.” Callie was irritated by the sigh of disappointment from Miller. “What were you hoping? That Carol might have confided salacious details of her private life with the practice nurse?”

  “It would have been nice.” Miller finished the roll and swept the crumbs from his suit.

  “Well, sorry, but you’ve had a wasted trip.”

  “Not at all,” Miller smiled and looked Callie in the eye. She could feel a flush slowly rising up her neck. Why did her body always betray her in this way? “I actually managed to eat lunch.”

  “Do you have any other information for me?” Callie asked curtly and was pleased to see that he had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed.

  “The pathologist’s initial findings are that both she and the previous victim died in the same way. Also, the fire investigator confirms the same method of fire starting.”

  “So, you think it’s probably the same person?”

  “It does seem likely.”

  “What about the husband?” Callie asked, knowing that family was always high on the list of suspects. “Could he have done this as a copycat of the first death?” Callie didn’t want this to be the case, as it could still leave Mark in the frame for the first death.

  “We never released the details of how the fire was started.”

  “Anyone who had access to Mark’s historic cases would know that.”

  “Well, yes, that’s true, and there seem to be plenty of people on that list,” Miller conceded. “But I don’t think the husband could have had access and he had a lot to lose financially. We’re checking him out of course, but Mrs Johnson was the main breadwinner, she had no life insurance and they live in rented accommodation, so he won’t even get the house.”

  “Sounds pretty conclusive, if you think money is important to him.”

  “Oh yes. He certainly seemed more upset about being left out of pocket than losing his wife, plus he was out with some friends until nearly 2.00 am and she was already dead by then.” Miller managed to convey his dislike of Mr Johnson. “And the first victim’s husband has a pretty good alibi too.”

  At least he was keeping an open mind and looking at other suspects, Callie thought, even whilst trying to persuade himself it was Mark.

  “I don’t suppose there’s any evidence the two men knew each other?”

  “And colluded, you mean? Not yet, but of course we are looking for any connections between the two victims and their families, and where each husband was when the other’s wife was murdered, but it doesn’t seem probable.”

  Callie agreed. She just couldn’t see it. She knew that it happened in fiction, she had seen the film Strangers on a Train, like most people, but in real life? Would two unconnected men really agree to kill the other’s wife? It was just too complex.

  “Have you managed to trace any men buying cans of petrol?”

  “Checking them all out now,” he assured her.

  “And no ideas about where the two women were before they got killed?”

  “Nope.” If he objected to her quizzing him about what was his job rather than hers, he didn’t show it. Callie thought that he actually appreciated someone going through all the possible lines of enquiry just so that he felt sure he hadn’t missed any.

  “What about other leads, like CCTV?” she asked.

  Miller shook his head.

  “Nothing worthwhile so far.”

  “It can’t be easy to avoid CCTV in a town like Hastings.”

  “Almost impossible,” Miller agreed. “But we haven’t found anything even vaguely interesting. So, the killer’s either highly skilled or incredibly lucky.

  “We’re also working through the list of other arsonists in the area, and extending our parameters on that, both geographically and to include those who might be on a trajectory that could lead them to commit this sort of crime.”

  Callie nodded.

  “And, of course, we are trying to find anyone who saw the victims the night they were killed.”

  “What about asking the press to help with that? Put out an appeal for anyone they met to come forward.”

  “We are going to, although we have to be careful. These women have families and we don’t want to insinuate they were doing anything wrong by being out.”

  Callie was surprised that he was showing such sensitivity to the feelings of the families. Maybe he wasn’t as tough and no nonsense as she had always thought him to be.

  “We’ve decided just to ask for witnesses who may have seen them. We aren’t sure they were anyway, it’s just the most likely explanation. The appeal will go out later today.”

&
nbsp; “I’m glad you’re thinking about the families.”

  “Well, not sure my superiors are,” he confided. “They just don’t want it to come across as though we are in any way suggesting that the victims were to blame for their own deaths. That always looks bad, apparently.”

  Callie could see that Miller was angry at this.

  “Personally, I don’t think anything should stand in the way of us finding this man before he does it again,” he said.

  Callie agreed, but Miller being removed from the case for upsetting his bosses wouldn’t help anyone.

  “Whatever the reason, the result’s the right one. It’s the right message to put out.”

  She was pleased to see him nod in agreement. He gave a long sigh and wiped his face with his hands.

  “It’s a tough case,” she murmured.

  “Pretty full on,” he agreed. “It’s been nice to get out of the office and have a break. Even if we have been discussing the case. It’s less frenetic here. More civilised.”

  “Huh, you should come during baby clinic. It’s not civilised then.”

  “Anywhere without Bob Jeffries counts as civilised,” he said with a small smile, and she had to agree.

  * * *

  Callie had decided to visit her parents and her decision, so she told herself, had nothing to do with the fact that the route to her childhood home took her past the farm where Jill Hollingsworth lived with her husband. Callie decided to take the opportunity to stop there in person, to put her mind at rest about her patient. She had tried calling but there had been no answer and, unusually in this day and age, no facility to leave a message, so an unannounced visit was the only option.

  As she pulled up outside the small farmhouse, there was no welcoming curl of smoke from the chimney and no lights on that she could see. Callie expected a working farm to be muddy and utilitarian, but even by those standards, this seemed uncared for and unclean. The windows were grimy and the woodwork paint was cracked and peeling. A dog barked in the yard but there was no other sign of life about the place and it felt cold and empty. She could see a car parked by the side of the house which suggested someone was in, so she went up to the front door and knocked. There was no response. She knocked again with the same result, but once the dog stopped barking she was sure she could hear some sound inside, the television perhaps? Or radio?

  “Hello?” Callie called out to anyone who might be inside and set the dog barking again. “Jill? Are you there?” She put her hand on the doorknob, uncertain if she should try and open the door in the hope that her voice would be heard better.

  “She’s out.”

  Callie jumped and gave a little, involuntary scream at the sudden voice behind her and turned to see a man in his thirties, dressed in dirty overalls and muddy boots and looking at her with deep suspicion.

  “I’m sorry,” she said to him, smiling with relief. “You startled me. Jill’s out, is she?”

  “That’s what I said, yes. Who are you?”

  “Her doctor. Dr Hughes.” Callie held out her hand and the man reluctantly took it.

  “Are you her husband?” She knew that Jill was married, but didn’t think she had ever seen her partner. He was probably on someone else’s list, or even registered at another practice. There was no rule that said married couples had to have the same doctor.

  “Yes. Is something wrong?” he asked. “Did she call you?”

  Callie detected genuine anxiety in his voice.

  “No, no, I just wanted a word, that’s all,” she said reassuringly, but he didn’t look like he quite believed her. “I could hear the television on, so I just thought she hadn’t heard me knock.” Callie gestured at the door and stood slightly to one side to allow him to open it, but he made no move to do so.

  “She’s staying at her mother’s for a while,” he explained. “I must’ve left the telly on when I went to check the cows.” He still made no move to go into the house, or to invite her in, despite her smiling and waiting for him to do so.

  “Well,” Callie finally said. “Do you know when she’ll be back?” He shook his head and said nothing, but looked pointedly at her car. “Could you give me her address, then?” Callie persisted. She wasn’t sure why, it wasn’t urgent after all, but there was something about the man’s attitude that had got to her, made her want to be sure.

  “I’ll be seeing her tomorrow and I’ll tell her you’ve been round.”

  “Perhaps I can give you a note for her then?”

  Callie dug in her bag for pen and paper and scribbled a quick note to her patient, just asking her to get in touch with the surgery, nothing confidential as she didn’t have an envelope to put it in and seal the message from prying eyes. She handed the note to the man, who shoved it in a pocket.

  “Bye then,” he said and turned away, leaving her no choice but to walk back to her car. “Thank you for calling, Doctor. I’ll let Jill know,” he said from the doorway, as she got into the car, friendly now that he was sure she was leaving, but he still hadn’t opened the door and Callie wondered exactly what it was he didn’t want her to see. She gave herself a mental shake. He probably just didn’t want her to see the piles of dirty dishes as he hadn’t tidied up whilst his wife was away. But as she turned the Audi round and drove away, watching the man in her rearview mirror, he still didn’t go into the house but stood and watched her until she was out of sight.

  * * *

  Kate was sitting in their usual corner of The Stag, a pint of her favourite Shepherd Neame Spitfire in front of her as Callie went to the bar to buy herself a large glass of Pinot Grigio. The barman didn’t need to be told she liked it served with one cube of ice, he had served Callie many times before. The Stag was a convenient place for the two of them to meet, close to both their homes in the Old Town. It had everything you could want from a pub: a warm welcome and an open fire, not to mention Kate’s favourite beer and a display case containing an ancient mummified cat for some obscure reason.

  “Sorry I’m late, I got side-tracked by a patient.”

  This didn’t even cause Kate to raise an eyebrow she was so used

  to her friend being called out.

  “Did you catch the press conference?” Callie asked. “I missed the evening news.”

  “Ah yes, the scrummy DI Miller.”

  Callie rolled her eyes.

  “He’s not scrummy.”

  “Really?” Kate was unconvinced. “I’m disappointed in you, Dr Hughes, you need to be on the look out for fanciable men. Even at work.” Kate drank some of her beer. “Unless, of course, they are a patient, or, in my case, a client.”

  “I’ll have you know that he’s not fanciable, Ms Ward, even if he is good-looking. For me to consider him fanciable he would have to have a nice personality as well, and he hasn’t. Not to mention the fact that he is married.” Her point made, Callie changed the subject back to the press conference. “What did he say, then?”

  If Kate was disappointed at her friend’s response, she knew better than to show it.

  “Well, he was appealing for anyone who might have seen either of the two victims earlier in the evening or night they were killed to get in touch. They are trying to trace the women’s movements and who they were with.”

  “It makes you wonder, doesn’t it?” Callie said thoughtfully.

  “What?”

  “I mean, these were both married women, weren’t they?”

  “And your point is?” Kate asked.

  “Well, if the police are trying to track their movements, it’s unlikely they were with their husbands, otherwise the police would know where they were, wouldn’t they?”

  “I see where you are going with this,” Kate replied. “You think they were out with their lovers.”

  “I wouldn’t necessarily go that far,” Callie said. “I just think they must have been out with someone they didn’t want their husbands to know about.” She paused. “Which quite possibly might mean they were seeing someone else, like a
lover, or potential lover.”

  “Exactly.”

  “But it might be something entirely different.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like, ooh, I don’t know, a surprise. Planning a party for their husbands or something.”

  “You think these women were out with a party planner?”

  “Well, it’s possible, isn’t it?”

  Kate shook her head at her friend’s innocence and drank more of her beer before responding.

  “Which brings me onto a bit of gossip I heard.” Kate leant closer to keep the conversation more confidential, although there was no one seated near them. “A friend told me that a friend of a friend told her that this latest victim, what was her name…?”

  “Carol Johnson,” Callie told her.

  “That’s right. Carol, used a dating website to find men.”

  “That’s awful. She was married, for goodness’ sake.”

  “Maybe the marriage wasn’t a happy one.”

  “Well, clearly not, if she was looking for someone else.”

  “Not necessarily,” Kate said. “I hate to tell you this, Callie, but sometimes marriages can be, you know, open?”

  “Do you think she told them she was married?”

  “Yes. That’s the point, Callie, she was using an adultery website.”

  Callie was horrified.

  “An adultery website?” she said, rather more loudly than expected and Kate shushed her. They both looked round to see if anyone had heard her exclamation, but fortunately no one seemed to be giving them funny looks.

  “I cannot believe such a thing exists,” Callie continued quietly. “I mean, that there would be people openly looking for affairs like that.”

  “I can assure you, they do exist.” Kate got out her phone and started searching on the internet. “Look.”

  She handed her phone to Callie, who stared at the screen, open-mouthed in amazement.

  Chapter 10

  “I’m going to say something really sexist now,” Callie warned Kate as they walked back to Callie’s flat, climbing the steep twitten, one of many narrow, unlit passages and flights of steps between houses that could be found all over Hastings Old Town. “I can see that there might be enough men wanting to have affairs to keep a website like that going, but women? It’s just unbelievable.”