Stop.

Silence.

Mrs Atkins in tears, shoulders shaking, WPC Martin holding her -

Her husband, Hazel’s father, his fingers in his mouth -

He said: ‘We miss her. I -’

Stop.

Silence -

Long, long silence.

I nodded at Dick. He passed the microphone back along the table.

I said: ‘That is all the information we have at the moment but, if you would excuse Mr and Mrs Atkins, I will then try and answer any questions you might have.’

I stood up as WPC Martin and Dick took the mother and the father out through the side door, the dogs watching them go, still hungry -

Hungry for bones -

Mine.

Alone with Evans at the front, I said: ‘Gentlemen?’

The stark forest of hands, from their whispers a two-word scream:

‘Clare Kemplay…’

More bones -

‘Coincidence,’ I was saying, seeing -

Old bones.

‘Coincidence,’ I said again, knowing -

There is salvation in no-one else.

Upstairs, a cup of cold tea in one hand: ‘Where are the parents?’

Dick Alderman: ‘Jim’s taken them back to Morley.’

‘We should get back over there.’

Dick: ‘Take my car?’

I nodded.

Dick put out his cigarette. He reached for his coat.

‘Dick?’

He turned back round: ‘Yeah?’

‘Where is all the Kemplay stuff?’

‘What?’

‘The Clare Kemplay files.’

‘It’s a coincidence,’ he sighed. ‘You said it yourself. What else could it be?’

‘Where’s the fucking stuff, Dick?’

He shrugged: ‘Wood Street, probably.’

‘Thank you.’

The Dewsbury Road through Beeston and along the Elland Road until it became Victoria Road and Morley -

Dick driving, me with my eyes closed -

Just the sleet, the windscreen wipers, and the radio:

‘Parliament dissolves amidst excitement and relief ahead of 9 June poll; search continues for missing Morley 10-year-old; body of a boy aged three found on Northampton tip; 18-year-old found hanged in police cell; Nilsen to be charged with more murders…’