Jack was spotted as soon as he approached Mike Corley’s house.
He wanted confirmation of Emma’s story before he did anything about it. He didn’t want to get a police officer arrested because of some drunken ramblings.
Mike’s wife appeared at the window straight away. Jack guessed that she had become used to having the press outside her house. He didn’t expect to be made welcome, but it seemed like they were jumpier than last time. He tried a smile and a wave, but she just turned away. Then he saw Mike Corley walking towards him, his fists bunched, his cheeks flushed red with anger.
‘I told you last time, we’ve nothing to say to you.’
Jack pulled out his voice recorder. ‘Before you hit me,’ he said, ‘what about Manero’s?’
He stopped and pursed his lips, his fists by his side now.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Come on, you must know the name,’ Jack said. His sympathy for him as a father had waned after hearing Emma’s story. ‘Did you read my article, where I said that there was no real connection between you and Don Roberts?’
‘Go on,’ he said, his eyes darting about nervously.
‘We know that’s not true now,’ Jack said. ‘Why did you keep it secret, Mr Corley?’
He shook his head and stepped forward, trying to push Jack away from his house. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Yes, you do, but I’ll explain it, if you want,’ Jack said, standing his ground. ‘Manero’s. It’s a night club from the seventies. You worked there, with Don Roberts. You were a barman, he was a doorman.’ Mike Corley paled. ‘Why didn’t you say anything?’
He shrugged and tried to look nonplussed, but Jack could tell from the widening of his eyes that Emma’s story was hitting home. ‘So, I might have once worked with him. It’s years since I worked at that club. How am I supposed to remember every face? Christ, it was decades ago.’
‘I thought you might have remembered going with a fifteen-year-old girl, you and Don together, taking turns with a child.’
The angry flush drained away, and Jack thought he saw a wobble. But Corley took a deep breath and straightened himself. ‘I’ve nothing to say,’ he said, and turned to walk back to the house.
‘She was a child, Mr Corley, and you and Don fucked her, two on one. Are you denying it?’
He whirled round. ‘That wasn’t me. And you’ve no evidence of anything, so get away from my house.’
‘No evidence at all?’ Jack queried, and then shook his head, his lips drawn into a tight grimace. ‘What about a walking, talking piece of your DNA? Or is it Don’s?’
Corley paused and looked confused for a moment. ‘What do you mean?’
‘She got pregnant, Mr Corley. The young girl you took turns on. Emma, she was called. She had a baby.’ Jack raised his eyebrows. ‘It was a boy, by the way, Mr Corley.’
Corley took a step back and reached out to his car to steady himself. He looked back towards his wife who was watching through the window. ‘Don’t be making trouble, Mr Garrett. People could get hurt.’
‘I’ve got it all recorded, so if anything happens to Emma, Don will be the first suspect, with you next in the queue. You understand me?’ Jack said, as calmly as he could.
‘But you’re a reporter. You’re going to print something,’ Mike replied. His tone was measured and cold.
Jack smiled, although his heart was beating wildly. ‘I don’t know what will get into print, I don’t edit the paper, but you will get the chance to deny it. So go on, what’s your quote, because at the moment it looks like you and Don Roberts treated a girl really badly, and you ruined her life? No, not a girl. A child.’
Corley stepped closer and lowered his voice to an angry hiss. ‘Why would anyone care now?’ he said. ‘It’s ancient history, a skeleton in the cupboard. I didn’t know she’d gone on to have a baby, but so what? Young people do stupid things. That’s life.’
‘But most mistakes don’t go on to cost lives,’ Jack said. ‘Your mistake has killed people, including your daughter.’
Corley looked confused again. ‘You’ve lost me.’
‘Whatever is happening now is connected with what you did all those years ago. So, Mr Corley, what about a quote, or your story on what happened in that club that night?’
He considered Jack for a moment, and then stepped away. ‘You won’t print it, because you’ve no proof. So there’s no quote from me. And if I see you round here again, there will be trouble.’
Jack held his ground. ‘Even no comment is sometimes worth printing,’ he said, and then turned to walk back to his car. Jack could feel Corley watching him as he went. As Jack climbed behind the wheel, Corley’s wife was still staring at him through the window. As Mike Corley turned to go inside, Jack wondered what he was going to tell her.
Jack called Laura. Corley was watching him from his window, glaring, his fingers gripped tightly around the curtain.
‘If you want a link between Mike Corley and Don Roberts, I’ve got one,’ Jack said.
‘Tell me,’ she said, and Laura didn’t interrupt as he told her all about the meeting with Emma.
‘Did you say her child was adopted?’ Laura asked.
‘Yes,’ Jack said. ‘Her son was taken from her and handed over to a family friend. She tracked him down once, but she wasn’t allowed to see him.’
Laura went quiet for a few seconds, and then she said, ‘When was this?’
‘She was raped in seventy-six, so she had the baby in seventy-seven.’
‘It fits,’ Laura said, almost to herself.
‘What fits?’
‘I can’t tell you, Jack, not yet, but thank you for this,’ she said, and there was an urgency in her voice. ‘Who else knows?’
‘Just one other person. A policeman. Abbott. Simon Abbott.’
There was another pause.
‘Laura?’
‘Don’t go near Abbott,’ she said. ‘I’ll speak to you later.’ And then the phone went dead.
Jack breathed out deeply as he put his phone back in his pocket. He knew exactly where he was going. As he pulled away, Jack took one last glance at Corley, just in time to see his hand fall away from the curtain.