statement on the second page, and an application for membership section at the back. We’ve won a good many victories for improvements here over the past eighteen months, and enjoyed ourselves enormously in the process.’ She chuckled combatively and thrust a leaflet into Kathy’s hand. ‘And the petition?’
‘I’ll think about that,’ Kathy said. ‘I haven’t really formed a view about the music.’
‘We’ll sign,’ Naomi said. ‘The music’s crap.’
‘Oh.’ Mrs Rutter was startled, but only for a moment. ‘That’s nice, dear. Here you are.’
They moved on to the bag shop, in which they found one last remaining frog bag, identical, so the girls said, to the one Kerri had bought on her last birthday with money sent by her father. Kathy bought it and they went back out into the mall.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Now I’d like to take you to meet my boss, Detective Chief Inspector Brock.’
Their faces fell.
‘What’s the matter? You’ll like him.’
‘We’re not in trouble, are we?’ Naomi said.
‘No, it’s all right. I think he’ll understand why you did what Kerri asked. But he’ll want to hear it from you.’
‘He’s a big wheel, is he?’
‘Yes. He’s one of the top detectives in Scotland Yard, Naomi. If anyone’s going to find out what happened to Kerri, he will.’
‘I feel sick,’ Lisa said, and looked it.
‘She felt sick last night,’ Naomi said. ‘It was hearing about Kerri. She hasn’t eaten since. Neither of us has.’
‘Well look, why don’t you come with me to meet Mr Brock, and you can sit down there, and we’ll get you something nice to eat and drink, and you’ll feel a lot better.’
Phil, the action manager, was now firmly established at a desk just inside the front door, so that no one could come or go without being checked off on his spreadsheets and schedules. Kathy reported to him with the girls in tow, staring wide-eyed and intent at all the activity inside the shop unit. She sat them down beside Phil and got a paper cup of water for Lisa, then went through the unit to Brock’s table, now looking considerably more cluttered. He looked up from the papers he was reading and waved her to a seat.
‘Progress?’ she asked.
‘Six staff so far with records, one promising.’ He passed a fax across to her. ‘Eddie Testor, six months for assault and criminal damage two years ago. Road rage-he forced the other driver to pull in, then battered his car to a crumpled heap with a couple of five-pound hand-weights he happened to have with him. Offered steroid abuse in mitigation. He’s been working at the leisure centre as a lifeguard and swimming instructor, based on false references and credentials. Gavin Lowry’s interviewing him at Hornchurch Street now.’
‘Has he finished the search here?’
‘Pretty much. A few of them are still checking outside.’
‘That was quick.’
‘Yes, he doesn’t waste time. I’m on my way over to see how he’s getting on, but I’d like to talk to Kerri’s friends, see if she ever took swimming lessons from this character.’
‘I’ve just brought them in,’ Kathy said, ‘Naomi and Lisa.’
‘They’re here? You must have read my mind, Kathy.’
She told him about their change of story, showed him the green frog bag and mentioned Lisa’s physical similarity to Kerri. ‘I thought, if we wanted to stage a reconstruction…’
‘Yes, yes. Good idea.’ He thought for a moment. ‘I’ll talk to them.’
‘They’re a bit overwhelmed at present. I might organise some lunch for them.’
She led them over. Naomi shook Brock’s hand solemnly, but when he leant across the desk to take Lisa’s she began making little gulping noises, and with a sudden jerk of her head ejected a bolt of mushy material onto the middle of his desk. Cornflakes and toast, Kathy noted. So she had had breakfast.
‘Oooh…’ the girl wailed, and Brock, looking benignly unconcerned, as if this was always happening, murmured, ‘There, there. Don’t worry.’ He refrained from wiping the splashes off the front of his shirt and trousers while Kathy sat the girl down and gave her tissues.
‘Maybe we should take Lisa home,’ Kathy said.
5
K athy was beginning to feel that she was condemned to repeat this journey backwards and forwards endlessly, between two worlds, Silvermeadow and Herbert Morrison, that couldn’t possibly coexist, like whoever it was, the god of thresholds, who looked both ways at once. Or the ferryman who took the dead across the river to Hades. Question was, which of them really was Hades, in this case?
She saw Lisa safely back to her flat, whose threshold mat proclaimed BASS, and looked very much as if it had been acquired from the local.
Then she went to Hornchurch Street to see how DS Lowry was making out with the hammer man. Gavin was taking a break from his exertions when she arrived, supping from a polystyrene cup of tea and looking introspective and thoughtful, especially when he caught sight of Kathy.
‘He’s a nutter,’ he observed without malice. ‘You don’t realise it at first. But then the signal lights start flashing: the repetitions, the forgetfulness, the displacements.’
‘Displacements?’
‘Yeah. Like, now he comes to think of it, there is this other guy he’s seen eyeing up the girls, this other body builder, this other steroid junkie. Not him of course.’
‘Ah. Well, Brock should be along shortly. He’s talking to one of the girl’s school friends. She may know something about this bloke.’
‘Hmm. And what about you? What’ve you been up to?’
‘Just that. The school friends. They admit now that Kerri was planning to run away to see her father.’
‘So how did she end up in the Silvermeadow compactor?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Anything else I should know about?’ he asked, and drained his tea slowly.
‘Don’t think so.’
He gave a weary sigh, crushed the cup in his fist and tossed the bits into a bin. ‘Oh well. Such is life.’ He turned and walked away.
Kathy shuttled back, along quiet Sunday streets, then the link road to the motorway, the motorway itself busy now with weekend traffic, and finally the Silvermeadow turnoff and the expanse of carpark getting fuller all the time, drawing life in from the highways. She went in by way of the service road ramp again and found the blue compactor reassembled and in use, the SOCO team having moved on to the orange machine deepest inside the basement.
They’d taken their overalls off and were sitting together on the edge of the loading dock, eating pizza, and the smell made Kathy feel hungry.
‘Pepperoni,’ Desai said. ‘Have some. We won’t finish this. If you don’t have it it’ll just end up in the compactor.’
He gave her a slice.
‘Any progress?’ she asked.
‘We’re getting the hang of it now. By the time we get to the third one we’ll be stripping it down in no time. But I don’t know if we’ve got anything useful. Dozens of samples, but who knows what of?’
He took her over to the compactor, its bright orange panels half-dismantled, and showed her where the deposits had gathered in the corners and seams of the compression chamber. ‘Oil, hydraulic fluid, fibres, gorgonzola cheese, who knows?’ He straightened and added, ‘What’s it like outside?’
‘Cool, dull.’
‘I wouldn’t mind some fresh air. You want a stroll?’
