Chris Simms: Savage Moon

'So who are her birth parents?' Summerby asked.

'Mary was an orphan. Apparently her mother died in a place called the Kamiti detention camp. Medical complications after the birth.'

'Have you got contact details for the Sullivans?'

'They're dead. Both were killed in a car crash in nineteen seventy-nine.' Summerby reached out and crossed their surname off the list as Adlon continued. 'Mary was eighteen at the time. It seems they'd not written her into their will. None of the relatives were interested so she was basically left to fend for herself. Details are sketchy from that point on, just stuff she was prepared to tell the hospital staff. She moved to Manchester and lived in bedsits for a while, but by the time she turned up at the hospital she'd been sleeping rough.'

'Sleeping rough while pregnant? Why do that?' Summerby asked.

'No explanation. Fell behind with her rent?'

Jon's mind was turning. 'Kerrigan started out in the property game, bedsits and the like. What if Mary was a tenant he took liberties with? It would explain how she ended up preferring to sleep rough.'

Summerby's eyes were on the board. 'You mean he raped her. That's why Field killed him. But how did he find out who his father was?'

'Sorry. You talking to me, boss?' Adlon's voice buzzed.

'No, rhetorical question. What were the Sullivans doing in

Kenya?'

'He was the chaplain for the Kamiti area. Left in the late fifties just before the country got its independence.'

'With an orphaned Kenyan baby?'

'There are notes from the social worker who initially dealt with the Sullivans on their return to Britain. Apparently Kenya was in chaos. There'd been this armed uprising by the Mau Mau, thousands had been locked up in specially built camps. Then the decision was made to release them all. It seems in all the confusion many orphaned babies were left behind. Convents took in some but the Sullivans took in Mary Gathambo.'

Rick coughed. 'Before the Sullivans died, we know they told Mary all about where she was from, including her family name. She'd obviously contacted members of the family back in Kenya. James Field had the letters they'd sent her. She was planning to return to the country when she fell pregnant by, we now know, Kerrigan. We also know James Field made contact with the relatives and flew out there to meet them in March, two thousand and one. He came back a different person, knuckled down in a job, kept out of trouble and quietly planned all this.' Summerby slapped the end of the marker pen against his palm. 'We're no nearer to working out who he's after next. DC Adlon, bring everything you've got back here.' He cut the connection and turned to the table. 'We need to re-question every offender who was in the Silverdale at the same time as Field. And go round the squats, pull in everyone who knew him as Jammer.'

A phone rang and was swiftly answered. 'Is there a DI Spicer here?' a female civilian called out.

Jon turned to her, instantly clocking her worried expression.

'It's Sergeant Innes in the radio room. He's got a message about your wife.'

Jon got to the woman in three strides and took the phone from her outstretched hand. 'Sergeant?'

'Jon. This might be something and nothing. Your other half, is she called Alice?'

He felt a plunging sensation, as if he was in a lift that had unexpectedly started to go down. 'Yes. What is it?'

'You know the Liberal Democrat constituency offices in

Cheadle Hulme? On Gill Bent Road?'

'Yes.'

'We've just received a call about an incident there. A woman turned up, er, in a bit of a state. Complaining. Apparently about the war in Iraq.'

He knew instantly it was his wife. Please let her be OK. Oh God, what about Holly? 'Is there a baby with her? Does she have a baby?'

'Yes. A girl. The staff are caring for her.'

'The staff? What's Alice doing?'

'The caller described her as extremely agitated. I'm sorry, Jon.' He lowered the handset and stared at the wall. Rick's voice sounded behind him.

'Jon, what is it? Is Alice OK?'

He hung up. 'I've got to go. Alice isn't well.' He was in a tunnel, the only visible things were the doors he was marching towards. Voices were around him, exact words unintelligible. He was about to grab a door handle when he realised he didn't have his car keys.

Summerby collared him as he returned to his desk. 'Jon, is there a problem?'

'It's my wife. I have to go.'

Summerby clicked his fingers. 'DS Saville, go with him.'

Jon waved a hand. 'It's all right.'

Footsteps followed him down the corridor. He glanced over his shoulder to see Rick, his mouth beginning to open. 'Come on mate, I'll drive you.'

'It's all right, honestly.'

'Jon, just let me drive, OK?'

Anger flared and he started to turn. But as he did so a sense of nausea welled up. He wanted to sit down. 'All right,' he swallowed.

Once in his partner's car, Jon leaned back in his seat. What has happened? Has she gone mad? Have I lost her forever? He saw Alice in a white hospital gown, rocking back and forth. Oh no. Gritting his teeth, he got out his mobile and phoned home.

'Mum, I'm picking Alice up. Bringing her home.'

'Where is she?'

'I'll explain later. Please, stay there just a little bit longer. Thanks, Mum.'

He flipped the phone shut, then directed Rick to the Liberal Democrat's office. When they pulled into Gill Bent Road ten minutes later they immediately saw two patrol cars, blue lights flashing in the dimming afternoon light.

Oh my God, what has she done, he thought, opening the car door before it had rolled to a stop. He approached the office, holding up his badge to the uniform standing there.

The constable looked surprised. 'Didn't expect you guys to come out to this. It's only some hysterical witch.'

Jon had him pinned against the doorframe before he knew what he'd done. His voice came deep and low. 'That's my wife.' The officer's eyes were bulging in his head, skin going rapidly purple. Jon released his grip on the man's throat and entered the building. Staff had gathered in the corridor, nervous whispers rippled around him.

In a side room a woman was crouched by their buggy. Holly was inside, a little hand wrapped round the woman's finger. From the end of the corridor he heard a strained moaning, as if someone was struggling with a heavy weight.

With a sense of dread he set off towards it. As he got nearer to the open door he could hear a man speaking, effort twisting his voice. He entered an office strewn with papers. Alice was face down on the floor. A female officer was sitting on her legs, hands clamped over her ankles. A male officer with black hair was crouching at his wife's side, one knee in the small of her back. Alice's arm was bent backwards by his grip, her face pressed into the carpet, strands of hair around her head. 'It's simple, love. You calm down and I'll release my grip. Or do you want us to spray you again?'

Jon felt his vision tunnel again. He grabbed a fist full of the male officer's hair and bent his head back so their eyes met. 'Get your hands off my wife.'

Noise to his side. He turned his head. A third officer. He was lifting an arm, bringing a small can up towards Jon's face. He shot out the heel of his hand. It connected with the man's chest and he flew backwards over a desk. Rick's voice. 'Easy! Easy! We're police officers. Jon, let go. Let go!'

He looked down, saw the officer's face screwed up in pain. He unclenched his hand, strands of hair falling from his fingers as the man sank to the floor. The female officer moved warily back and Alice scrabbled to a sitting position.

With streaming red eyes, she looked round the room. 'Jon? Jon? Is that you?'

He held out his hands and knelt down. 'Shush, Alice, it's