‘We were unable to trace you for some considerable time. Did you apply to Births, Deaths and Marriages for the name change to be legally registered?’
There was another lengthy pause; Daniels stared at his hands, then he looked up and answered quietly.
‘It was more than fifteen years ago. There was another actor by that name, so I changed it. I was in Ireland. They would have a record of it, but yes, I was originally Anthony Duffy. It was all legal.’
‘Was your mother Lilian Duffy?’
His face fell. He became stressed, starting to twist his hands.
‘Yes, yes, she was. Whether or not I’d describe her as a mother is another matter. I was brought up in foster care.’
‘And is it true that your mother was murdered?’
Daniels leaned forward. ‘What on earth has this got to do with anything?’
‘Could you please just answer the question, Mr Daniels.’
‘Yes, I was informed that she had been.’
‘And were you questioned by the Greater Manchester Police at the time of her murder?’
‘Christ! I was seventeen years old. I was brought in. They brought me in to tell me she was dead. For God’s sake!’
Radcliff was making notes. If he was surprised by what he was hearing, he didn’t show it.
‘We both know it was a bit more than that,’ said Langton. ‘You were arrested and questioned.’
‘I was released. Why on earth are you bringing this up, twenty years later?’
‘Were you also questioned about a previous assault on your mother?’
‘What?’
‘Your mother alleged you had attacked her.’
‘No. No, that is not correct.’ His eyes flashed with anger, then he turned to Radcliff. ‘There were never any charges. What the hell is this about, Edward? I have come here in good faith.’
Radcliff stared coldly at Langton. ‘Do these questions have some bearing on the reason Mr Daniels is here?’
‘I believe so.’ Langton opened the file in front of him.
‘Could you please look at these photographs, Mr Daniels and tell me if you knew any of these women?’
He withdrew the first photograph and glanced at the video camera.
‘For the benefit of the video and the tape, I am showing Mr Daniels a photograph of Teresa Booth.’
Daniels glanced at the black and white mortuary picture, then shook his head.
‘No, I don’t know her,’ he said firmly.
Out they came, one by one: Sandra Donaldson, Kathleen Keegan, Barbara Whittle, Beryl Villiers, Mary Murphy. To each ‘Did you know this woman?’ Daniels shook his head and said that he did not. He was sitting very upright, gripping the edge of his chair.
‘Did you reside at number twelve Shallcotte Street, Swinton?’
Daniels gave his solicitor a helpless look.
‘Just say yes or no, Alan,’ he said.
‘I believe I did. Until I was four or five years of age, and again after a period of foster care.’
‘Do you recall Kathleen Keegan as also living at that address?’
‘I was just a child. Of course I don’t,’ he snapped angrily.
‘Do you recall Teresa Booth living at that address?’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Do you recall any of these women living at that address?’
‘No, I don’t remember any of them. I have just said: I was only a small child.’
‘Thank you. Could you tell me where you were on the night of seventh February this year?’
Daniels closed his eyes, sighing.
‘When?’
‘Saturday, seventh February; between the hours of eleven o’clock that evening and two o’clock the next morning.’
‘Probably in bed. I was filming all of February; in fact, I was on location in Cornwall. I can check this for you, but I am certain that’s where I was.’
‘In Cornwall?’
‘Yes. There’s a new version of Jamaica Inn being filmed.’
‘I’d appreciate it if you could verify if you were in Cornwall on that date.’
Daniels told them that his agent would supply the exact schedule. He was shaking his head in bewilderment as he turned to Radcliff, saying, ‘I don’t believe this, Edward; it’s inconceivable.’
The lawyer patted his arm reassuringly.
Lastly, Langton laid the photograph of Melissa Stephens on top of the others.
‘Do you know this girl?’