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something she usually did? Made a cake for you coming home?’ Patterson said gently.
    Maidment looked baffled. ‘She’d never done it before. I didn’t even realise she knew how to bake a cake.’ He bit his lip. ‘If she hadn’t done that, if she’d just gone to Claire’s like she was supposed to . . .’
    ‘We’re not convinced she was telling Claire the truth,’ Patterson said, his voice gentle. Ambrose had always been impressed with Patterson’s care for those left in the shadows of violent death. The only word he could think to apply to it was ‘tender’. Like he was conscious of how much damage they’d already taken and he didn’t want to add to it. He could be tough, asking questions Ambrose would have struggled with. But underneath it, there was always a consideration of other people’s pain. Patterson let his words sink in, then continued. ‘We wondered if she was using that as an excuse so Claire wouldn’t ask too many questions about where Jennifer was really going. But we had to check with you. To see if it was the kind of thing she did when you’d been away.’
    Maidment shook his head. ‘She’d never done anything like that. We usually went out for a celebration dinner if I’d been away for more than a couple of nights. All three of us. We’d go for a Chinese. It was always Jennifer’s favourite. She never baked me a cake.’ He shivered. ‘Never will now.’
    Patterson waited for a few moments, then said, ‘We’ve been looking at Jennifer’s computer. It seems she and Claire spent a lot of time online, both together and separately. Did you know about that?’
    Maidment clutched his drink like a man possessed by cold. He nodded. ‘They all do it. Even if you wanted to stop them, they’d still find a way. So we got together with the Darsies and insisted on the girls’ computers having all the parental controls on. It restricts where they can go and who can get to them.’
    Up to a point
, thought Ambrose. ‘She used RigMarole a lot,’ he said, picking up the baton of the questioning. He and Patterson had been working together so long they didn’t even have to discuss their tactics in advance. They knew instinctively how to let things flow between them. ‘The social networking site. Did she ever talk to you about it?’
    Maidment nodded. ‘We’re very open as a family. We try not to be heavy-handed with Jennifer. We’ve always made a point of talking things through, explaining the reasons why we don’t let her do something or why we don’t approve of some behaviour or other. It kept the lines of communication open. I think she talked to us more than most teenagers. At least, judging by what our friends and my colleagues say about their kids.’ As often happened with the abruptly bereaved, talking about his dead daughter seemed to shift Maidment to a place where he could briefly disconnect from his grief.
    ‘So what did she have to say about RigMarole?’ Patterson said.
    ‘They liked it, her and Claire. She said they’d made a lot of online buddies who’re into the same TV programmes and music. I’ve got a page on RigMarole myself, I know how it works. It’s a very straightforward way of making connections with people who share your interests. And their filters are very good. It’s easy to shut somebody out of your community if they don’t fit or they’re breaking the boundaries you’re comfortable with.’
    ‘Did she ever mention someone with the initials Zed Zed? Or maybe Zee Zee?’ Ambrose asked.
    Maidment ran a finger and thumb across his eyelids then rubbed the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath and exhaled. ‘No. I’m pretty sure she didn’t. You’d be better off asking Claire about that level of detail. Why are you asking? Has this person been stalking her?’
    ‘Nothing like that, as far as we can see,’ Ambrose said. ‘But we recovered some message sessions between them. It looks as if ZZ was suggesting he or she knew some secret Jennifer