came to her son. Probably about as objective as he was about Archie.
“Why are you so interested in Simon? Do you think he’s got something to do with Amy Hill’s murder? I’ve already told Sergeant Merry that Simon was with me on Saturday evening.”
Neal dropped his bombshell, in the gentlest of tones; his eyes followed Anna Foster’s reaction closely.
“Ms Foster. A young man answering to your son’s description was seen outside the Odeon cinema with Amy Hill at approximately ten forty-five on the night of her murder. Please think carefully before reaffirming that Simon did indeed spend the entire evening with you.”
Anna Foster paled visibly but she answered without hesitation. “It wasn’t Simon. It couldn’t have been. He was with me all evening. We were going through the books from the library sale.”
Neal nodded solemnly. His sergeant made a noise that sounded like a snort hastily disguised as a cough. Need to have a word with her about that , Neal thought, irritably.
“Is it possible Simon may be staying with family or friends?”
“Simon doesn’t have any other family.” Anna fidgeted with her mouse lifting it slightly off the mat and replacing it, an action that she repeated several times, before standing up and confronting them.
“Simon is my adopted son. His birth mother is dead,” she said, flatly. “His father is . . . he’s inside.”
“He’s in prison?” asked Ava, surprised.
“He’s doing life for murder.”
“For killing Simon’s mother?” Neal asked, taking a leap.
“Beat her and left her for dead. Simon’s sister, Emily, disappeared and his father, Wade Bolan, was accused of killing her and hiding the body.”
“And Simon, how did he escape?” Neal asked.
“He was hiding in a wardrobe in his mother’s bedroom. No one is sure how much he witnessed. He doesn’t remember anything about it.”
“How old was he when you adopted him?” Neal asked, gently.
“He was six. He was fostered for a while after the tragedy. I already knew him from when his class visited the library I worked in, and I had always been quite taken with him. He was a very bright child, eager for books. His teacher told me he’d been taken into care because there was no other family to offer him a home, so I made some enquiries.”
“It can’t have been easy, taking on a child from such a background,” Neal remarked.
“Simon’s behaviour was sometimes . . . difficult. Challenging I suppose is the politically correct term now, but his intelligence helped him overcome a lot of his problems."
“That, and your care and influence I would imagine.”
Anna Foster coloured faintly at Neal’s compliment. “He was easy to love, Inspector,” she said in a whisper, her eyes clouding over as she gazed at her computer screen to avoid looking at Neal or Ava.
Neal dared not look at Ava. He had a lump in his throat. Was she aware that Archie was his Achilles heel? That, because of Archie, he could not bear the thought of any child being neglected or abused?
“Thank you for your time, Ms Foster.” Neal said. After a pause, he added, “Contact us immediately if Simon gets in touch. We need to talk to him as soon as possible.”
“I know,” Anna whispered tearfully, “but you’ll be wasting your time. Simon didn’t kill Amy Hill.” This time she did not reiterate her claim that Simon had been with her the night Amy died. Even Anna Foster must have realised that to repeat it would have sounded like desperation.
* * *
“What did you make of that?” Neal asked Ava as they walked back up the cobblestones towards the car park.
“I think she’s lying about the alibi,” Ava replied.
“A hunch?”
“You can call it that. But I think she’d say anything to protect Simon.”
“It’s a rare parent who can believe ill of their own child,” Neal admitted. “My guess is she doesn’t know what to think and she doesn’t want to betray Simon by believing the worst. One thing’s