right now?’
‘Just to reiterate: that Thomas hasn’t been home for two nights now, and his family and friends are very worried for him. So if you think you have seen Thomas recently, or have any other information you could give us, even if it seems hardly relevant, please do so. We are just really keen for anyone who has seen Thomas to contact us.’
‘Thank you, Inspector.’
‘Thank you.’
‘ We’re off to the plant now as it happens.’ The reporter didn’t miss a beat, speaking the second the red light had gone out, and as another man unplugged various cables from a box attached to his belt. ‘Aubrey’s are issuing a press statement today. Word is, it’s to announce job cuts. Your lads’ll be out in force no doubt, once the workers get restless. I don’t suppose there’s anything there you could help us out with?’
‘Once you get their statement you’ll know much more than me.’
Grey left the temporary encampment on the town green as soon as cleared by the production crew to do so, his involvement with the world of broadcasting over for he hoped as long as he could swing it until he had to place himself in such a situation again.
Grey found an office already abuzz with activity: Superintendent Rose was meeting the Assistant District Commissioner to discuss emergency measures, he relaying his concerns of industrial unrest; while the Sergeants and Constables were relieving themselves of what duties they could, in preparation for both the potentially exhaustive enquiries (door-to-door questioning, the distributing of fliers and posters) involved in a missing persons case — they had handled these cases before, they knew what was expected — and too whatever crowd control they might be asked to perform at Aubrey’s.
The Inspector himself intended heading straight to his office to write something legible by means of a record of yesterday’s events, but first he had to speak to Sarah Cobb, she herself, along with the rest of Administrative Support, standing readied for the hoped-for deluge of leads, false or otherwise, they hoped the residents of such a relatively small and close knit community as Southney’s would provide in response to the televised appeal. The calls had already begun to come through, he discovered; and he considered it a credit to their readiness that the swiftness of developments hadn’t left them out on something of a limb.
She had however already been over to speak with the bank this morning, his mother having given them permission to look at Thomas Long’s bank account.
‘Did they give you any trouble?’ asked Grey as he came over.
‘No, the cashier spoke to the manager right away. He didn’t sound very happy, but they went along with it when I mentioned your name.’
‘I never knew I held such influence. He doesn’t like me very much, you know.’
‘Well you must hold some sway there.’
‘Evidently, so…’
‘His pay goes in monthly,’ she advised. His housekeeping he takes out at the cashpoint. There are a few Internet purchases, books mostly, never very large amounts.’
‘Did his pay look reasonable to you?’
‘The amount? Yeah, about right, a bit more than you might think actually.’
‘Well, he did… does a lot for them.’
Sarah caught his slip, a risk in any missing persons case, ‘You’re asking,’ she continued unfazed, ‘because he would be paying himself in effect?’
‘Yes, there’s always the possibility of fraud. Although it doesn’t seem very likely, does it?’
‘He doesn’t sound the type, sir.’
‘No, quite. Any cards?’
‘Not a credit card, just the debit card he uses for his purchases.’
‘And nothing more exciting than that?’
‘Well, his balance was higher than you’d think, but then he hardly spends anything apart from on his books and his housekeeping.’
Grey thanked her for checking, before she added,
‘You know sir, I bumped into that lad you were questioning last night, Chris. He was in the pub with the football team.’
‘Oh?’ Grey sat up to take notice. ‘Chris Barnes, from the factory?’
‘He asked if you were in out,’ she laughed. ‘I think he was glad you weren’t. He didn’t seem him usual self, though.’
‘No, he wouldn’t. Do you know him well then?’
‘Only from the pub. He’s the star of the team, you know. The older fellows love him. He’s a good lad, boss — tough but honest. He wasn’t there very late though.’
‘The youngest leaving first?’
‘Yes. I think he’s worried for his job — he was in at eight today, doing early overtime.’
‘Then for that alone I pity him.’
‘Sorry, sir?’
‘They were hours wasted.’
‘Oh, you mean he won’t get paid for the overtime?’
‘He won’t get paid for any time, he won’t get paid at all.’
Sarah looked suddenly worried for the lad.
Sergeant Smith was among the others readying in their preparations. She too had been busy that morning, and soon filled the Inspector in on her visit to the Long house the previous evening. A chat with the parents had yielded much background, but no new leads in their search. While a look around Thomas’s bedroom had only revealed a shelf of novels, some of whose titles she recognised, and which upon reading the jackets startled her in their subjects, but beyond that she imagined bore no import on the case. She had left realising Thomas had a bookish, perhaps even emotional, side to him, but no more extra information than that. If he kept a diary she couldn’t find it, nor any other writings — for weren’t readers also often also writers? But if so he didn’t keep them there. Perhaps he hadn’t found his voice yet?
The Inspector absorbed this new information, and turned to go upstairs to the relative quiet of his and Cori’s office sanctuary. But no sooner had he sat down to begin on his notes, than there was a knock, Sarah poking her head around the door,
‘Sorry to interrupt you sir, but I thought you’d want to know. One of the staff took a message for you, they didn’t know you were back yet. A call from a Mr Parris. He said you knew him from the Club?’
‘Parris, ah yes,’ he remembered.
‘Another of your business connections?’ joked Cori, who had come in and was rifling through papers at her desk.
‘No, he’s the steward. He wouldn’t normally call here about Club business.’
‘No sir,’ confirmed Sarah, ‘he said he hoped to speak to you after seeing your broadcast earlier.’
‘Oh?’
‘Something to do with Alex Aubrey?’ Cori speculated. ‘He is a Clubman after all.’
‘Well, I was going to go into town later anyway… I’ll go and see him now.’
‘You think it might be something?’ asked Cori.
‘It could be, ‘he countered. ‘The report might have to wait.’
‘Shall I call him and let him know?’ offered Sarah eagerly.
‘Well, you could do,’ Grey considered, ‘but I shouldn’t think he’d be going anywhere about now. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him outside of the Club at any time of day or night.’
He was not a fan of crowds, such as he found along both sides of the High Street this bright morning, but for the chance they gave him to see a few faces in places, and to judge the local mood. It could sometimes feel, as he had pondered before, an unofficial and unspecified aspect of his role, that of recorder and arbiter of opinion, collator of his townsfolk’s thoughts and feelings. For how could he do his job without the understanding this brought him?
As he moved through the bunches of people he encountered — talking outside shops, queuing at cashpoints, log-jammed by badly placed phone-boxes and bins — Grey remembered these were not normal times: the mood
