serial by geraldine ryan

‘He just wasn’t interested in making money,’ so John Roberts had told Mike. ‘He wanted to do what he could to make the world a better place. And I suppose he did, in his own small way.’

His own small way, according to what Mike told her, was using his art to help turn people’s lives round. Before he became too ill to carry on, he gave art classes in Lumbley Prison, a rambling old Victorian gaol somewhere in the north of England.

Casey sat at her desk, wondering where this new information would take her next, if anywhere at all. The real Arlan Roberts had led an unconventional kind of life and must have met some unconventional people on his journey. Was the man who’d stolen his name one of them? Or had he simply glimpsed it on a headstone one day when he’d been taking a walk through a Sussex graveyard?

She wished people would stop coming in and out. Every time the door opened, she was certain the next person to come in would be the Super, arriving to rip her into humiliating shreds in front of everyone for her no-show earlier. But the next person turned out to be the Desk Sergeant. Someone was waiting for her in the outer office. Could she speak to her?

As soon as she set eyes on the small, slim woman perched awkwardly on a chair, clutching her handbag on her lap, Casey realised she recognised her from somewhere. The woman leapt out of her seat and came towards her. Her name was Maggie Fowler, she said.

She was a volunteer at Tony’s. Of course, Casey had glimpsed her there, when she’d been making her initial call.

She hadn’t wanted to say anything earlier, when Casey had been talking to Julie, because she didn’t want to upset Julie, she said.

‘Why would Julie be upset, Mrs Fowler?’

‘Miss,’ Maggie replied. ‘It’s Miss Fowler.’

Casey apologised. She really wasn’t interested in Maggie’s marital status. She just wanted her to get on with it. Whatever she had to say, it was clearly a real challenge for her to get the words out. Casey waited patiently. It was all she could do in the circumstances.

‘I’ve seen them twice over the last fortnight. Arguing. He looked frightened. Arlan did. I mean, the one we all thought was Arlan.’

‘Who, Maggie?’

‘It looked like he was threatening him. His final day. Julie had gone home. They were in the ginnel that cuts through between the church and my estate. He looked terrified.’

‘Who was threatening whom?’ Casey said.

‘Arlan didn’t come back the next day. He hasn’t been back since. I think he’s run away. To try to get away from him. Because he’s a bad lot that one and he always will be.’

Please God, Casey silently prayed, show me the way here.

‘Who was threatening the man you knew as Arlan?’ she said. ‘Who was he running away from?’

‘It was Steve Parr,’ Maggie said. ‘That’s why I was scared to say anything until now. I didn’t want to upset Julie. Not after everything she’s gone through with her Rose and all that.’

Steve Parr was Johnny’s father. Julie’s son-in-law.

Back on the scene after all these years. No wonder Maggie Fowler wanted to keep that information away from Julie. When her phone rang, she fumbled in her pocket for it. It was Debbie, from Forensics.

‘Hi, Casey,’ she said cheerfully. ‘I thought you might like to know. We’ve got a name for you. We’ve discovered the true identity of your missing man.’

‘I was scared to say anything until now. I didn’t want to upset Julie’