Stacey shrugged. ‘That would make more sense. You’d think they might have wondered where all those kids were going, though.’
‘Easy enough to cover up. “They’ve gone back to their family.” “They’ve been adopted.” “They left school and went to college somewhere else.”’
‘Are we at least going to interview the nuns?’ Karim demanded from the other side of the desk.
‘I’d like to track down some of the girls and talk to them first. We need a pressure point and so far we’ve not got that from the remains. We’ve got to nail down at least approximate dates for some of them and we won’t have that till forensics come back to us with something concrete. Alvin called to say they think they can make some headway with clothes labels, but that’ll take time,’ Paula said.
Right on cue, Steve pushed open the door and swaggered in. ‘Ask me who managed to get information out of social services?’ he called across the room.
‘Did you use the thumbscrews?’ Paula asked.
‘Didn’t even have to get out the cattle prod,’ Steve said. He produced a bundle of printed sheets with a flourish. ‘Ta da.’
Paula almost snatched them from him and quickly glanced through. Her excitement turned to disappointment. ‘Is that it? Seven girls?’
‘The local authority didn’t have responsibility for the others. They came from other places – families who couldn’t cope, recommendations from parish priests, whatever. So the social workers didn’t know anything about them.’
‘What? All those girls and nobody even knew who was there?’
Steve gestured at the records he’d obtained. ‘That’s all there is, boss. I agree with you, it’s totally fucked up, but that’s how it is.’
Paula sighed. ‘It’s not much to go on. We only know where one of them is, and that’s a secure unit for teenagers with mental health problems.’
Steve shrugged. ‘I know, it’s not a sparkling start. But these are outcomes that tell us something about the regime at the Blessed Pearl. These girls definitely didn’t come away from that place happy and well-balanced, did they?’
‘It doesn’t seem that way,’ Karim said, leaning across and taking a look at the papers. ‘But on the other hand, I have no idea how that compares with outcomes for kids in care generally speaking.’
‘Either way, it’s not good.’
Stacey picked up the paperwork. ‘I’ll see if I can track any of them down.’ She skimmed the details. ‘The one who went back to her dad or the over-eighteens might be our best bet.’
‘Nobody really cares about kids that fall off the radar, do they?’ Karim sounded disgusted. ‘We get all sentimental about kids, but the truth is, soon as they get to be a problem, they’re disposable.’
Nobody said anything but they all had a shamefaced air as they set about returning to the investigation. Stacey leaned into Paula and said, ‘I’ll get to this as soon as I can. I’ve just got to nip out for a quick meeting.’
Paula nodded. ‘No problem. I’ll get on to the hospital, see whether there’s any point talking to what’s-her-name. The one with anorexia.’
Stacey rolled her eyes. ‘Call yourself a detective? You not going to ask who I’m meeting?’
‘Who are you meeting, Stacey?’ Paula asked with artificial brightness.
Stacey was three strides away before she said, ‘Carol Jordan.’
Paula’s mouth fell open. Stacey and Carol? What was that about? And why was she only hearing about it now? She knew it was a childish reaction, but she was Carol’s friend, not Stacey. What was going on? She half-rose from her chair then fell back again. She’d find out soon enough, after all. If Stacey planned on keeping it a secret, she wouldn’t have told Paula about their appointment.
Would she?
And then her phone rang and all thoughts of this strange meeting were banished. The voice at the other end of the phone was abrupt and to the point. ‘PC Diamond at the front desk, ma’am. I’ve got a young woman here says she wants to talk to you about the Blessed Pearl.’
23
The psychologist who is brought in to participate in a criminal investigation and to draw up a profile of a killer or a serious sexual offender should apply their skills not only to the victim and the perpetrator but also to the police officers attached to the inquiry. Their predispositions and biases can shape not only the investigation but also the way the case is presented to the psychologist. And that can lead to an unfortunate amount of galumphing up blind alleys. Always consider the mindset of your supposed allies!
From Reading Crimes by DR TONY HILL
Carol had chosen the rendezvous with Stacey with some care. Pubs were out. Too many cops escaped there for a swift respite at any time of the day or night, especially pubs within walking distance of their base. Coffee shops, for the same reason. So she’d suggested the City Art Gallery, a mere five minutes’ walk from ReMIT’s squad room in Skenfrith Street. It might as well have been on another planet. Carol would have bet hard cash that the overwhelming majority of officers stationed in Skenfrith Street would struggle even to give directions to the imposing Edwardian building. It was the visual equivalent of elevator music.
She had suggested the first-floor gallery housing a couple of large Turner landscapes. She’d always liked Turner, ever since her father had taken her to the National Gallery. Neither of them knew much about art but he’d thought it would be an interesting day out. Carol had fallen in love with Rain, Steam and Speed and The Fighting Temeraire. She’d had prints of them on her wall all through university, and even now she had a print of Westminster Sunset on her bedroom wall. The pair that hung in the Bradfield gallery were not his finest work but she reckoned they knocked spots off almost anything else in the building.
Carol sat on a padded leather bench facing the larger of the two paintings, a view of a Northumberland landscape
