other girls of their age into the same boy bands.’
‘I hear a “but”,’ Patterson said.
‘You hear right. There’s one that’s a bit different,’ Ambrose said. ‘Trying to fit the mould but hitting the occasional bum note. Cagey about revealing anything that might pin them down geographically. Can you show us, Gary?’
Gary’s fingers fluttered over the keys and a string of message exchanges started to scroll down the screen. Patterson read attentively, not quite sure what he was looking for. ‘You think it’s paedophile grooming?’
Ambrose shook his head. ‘It doesn’t feel like that. Whoever it is, they’re drawing Jennifer and her buddies out, making friends. Usually with paedos, they’re trying to cut one out of the herd. They play on general insecurities about looks, weight, personality, just not being cool enough. That’s not happening here. It’s much more about showing solidarity. Being one of the group.’ He tapped the screen with his finger. ‘It’s not exploitative in any way.’
‘And then it gets really interesting,’ Gary said, scrolling down so fast the messages turned into a blur of text and smileys. ‘This was five days ago.’
Jeni: Wot do u mean, zz?
ZZ: Evry1 has secrets, things theyr ashamd of. Things u’d
die if ur crew new about.
Jeni: I don’t. My best friend nos everything about me.
ZZ: Thats wot we all say and we all lying.
‘The others weigh in and it turns into a general conversation,’ Gary said. ‘But then ZZ pulls Jennifer into a private IM session. Here we go.’
ZZ: i wanted 2 talk 2 u in priv8.
Jeni: Y?
ZZ: cuz i no u hav a BIG secret.
Jeni: U no more than me then.
ZZ: sumtimes we dont no wot our own secrets r. Bt i no a
secret tt u wd not want anybody else to no.
Jeni: I don’t no wot u r on about.
ZZ: b online 2moro same time & we’ll talk abt it sum more.
‘And that’s where that session ends,’ Gary said.
‘So what happened the next day?’ Patterson said.
Gary leaned back in his chair and rumpled his hair. ‘That’s the problem. Whatever ZZ had to say to Jennifer was enough to make her wipe the conversation.’
‘I thought there was no such thing as wiping a computer’s memory, short of hitting the hard disk very hard with a hammer,’ Patterson said. The headache was bedding in now, a deep dull throb beating between his ears. He squeezed the bridge of his nose tight, trying to shut down the pain.
‘That’s about the size of it,’ Gary said. ‘Doesn’t mean it’s accessible at the click of a mouse, though. I’m assuming this lass didn’t have a clue how to scrub her machine clean. But even so, I’m going to have to push a shedload of software through this baby to try and retrieve what she’s tried to erase.’
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Ambrose groaned. ‘How long’s that going to take?’
Gary shrugged, his whole chair moving with him. ‘Piece of string, innit? I might crack it in a few hours, but it could take days.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘What can I say? It’s not like servicing a car. There’s no way I can give you a meaningful estimate.’
‘Fair enough,’ Patterson said. ‘Can we just go back to where I came in? You were telling Alvin these sessions all came from different computers? Is there any way to find out where those computers are?’
Gary shrugged, then laced his fingers together and cracked his knuckles. ‘Theoretically, but there’s no guarantee. There’s websites that hold the details of individual computers’ IDs. But machines change hands.’ He pulled the corners of his mouth down like a sad clown. ‘Still, there’s a fair chance you can track down some of them.’
‘At least that way we might get some idea of where this bastard’s based,’ Patterson said. ‘That also needs to be a priority for us now. Can you deal with that as well as analysing the computer? Or do we need to bring in some support?’
If Gary had been a dog, the ruff of hair at the back of his neck would have been standing erect. ‘I can manage,’ he said. ‘While the programs are running on Jennifer’s machine, I can start looking up the computer IDs.’
Patterson stood up. ‘Fine. But if it’s taking too long, we’ll get you some help on the donkey work.’
Gary glowered at him. ‘None of this is donkey work.’
Patterson managed not to roll his eyes. ‘No, of course not. Sorry, Gary. No offence.’ He resisted the temptation to pat him on the shoulder as he would with his family’s pet mongrel. He stood up. ‘Alvin, a word?’
Out in the corridor, Patterson leaned against the wall, the lack of progress feeling like a physical weight on his shoulders. ‘This is going bloody nowhere,’ he said. ‘We’ve not got a single witness. She got off the bus but never made it as far as the Co-op. It’s like Jennifer Maidment vanished into thin air somewhere between the bus stop and the shop.’
Alvin’s mouth twisted up in one corner and dropped down again. ‘That’s if she was ever going to the Co- op.’
‘What do you mean? According to you, Claire Darsie said Jennifer was going to the Co-op to buy chocolate for her dad’s cake. She saw her walking in that direction. Jennifer waved to her.’
‘Doesn’t mean she was telling the truth,’ Ambrose said, his face impassive. ‘Just because she started off walking that way doesn’t mean she kept on going. Claire said the whole thing was out of character. So maybe Jennifer had other plans. Plans that had bugger all to do with the Co-op. Or her dad’s cake. Maybe there wasn’t a cake at all.’
‘You think she was meeting somebody?’
Ambrose shrugged. ‘You’ve got to wonder what would be important enough to make a teenage girl lie to her best mate. Generally, that comes down to a lad.’
