Mallory swallowed. “Let’s wait to see what the divers find before we jump to conclusions.”
His DI was right, but it didn’t look good for Katie. The sense of dread intensified.
7
Candy Dalling was a confident, blonde cherub with wide eyes and a ready smile.
“I waited for five minutes,” she told Rob and Mallory in the school canteen, “but then I had to go. Miss Smith doesn’t like it if we’re late.”
“Miss Smith is the teacher in charge of rollcall in the morning,” explained the red-faced Head Teacher sitting in on the interview. “All the pupils have to sign in when they arrive.”
“While you were waiting,” Rob asked Candy, leaning forward in his chair. “You didn’t see anyone else on the street, did you?”
Candy shook her head.
“Not a man or a woman walking by, or anyone waiting near you?” Rob pressed.
“Well, it was rush hour,” said the little girl precociously.
Mallory hid a smile behind the bad Styrofoam cup of coffee they’d been given from the staff room.
“So yes, there were other people walking by, but I didn’t notice anyone just hanging around.”
“Okay, thank you Candy.”
“I hope you find Katie,” she said. “It’s not like her to go off by herself.”
Rob hesitated. He didn’t know what she’d been told, and the last thing he wanted to do was alarm her.
“What makes you think she went off by herself?” He ignored a warning glance from the Head.
“Oh, I don’t. Katie’s shy, she wouldn’t go anywhere by herself. I had to go into the shop with her the other day to buy Maoams.”
Rob glanced at the head teacher.
“It's a sweet,” she said.
He had never heard of Maoams.
“Would she have talked to a stranger?” he asked Candy.
“No, definitely not. We know all about stranger danger.” The child’s eyes were sombre now.
Rob nodded. “That’s good. Don’t worry, we’re doing our very best to find Katie.”
Candy gave a firm nod, her lips pressed together in a satisfied smile.
Rob wished everyone had as much faith in the police.
Mallory drove them back to the station while Rob fielded one call after the next.
“The police helicopter didn’t pick up anything and is going back to base,” Jenny told him. “And I’ve sent the dog unit to the nature reserve, as requested.”
“Thanks Jenny.”
Please let them pick up her scent. Anything to indicate she wasn’t lying at the bottom of that reservoir.
“Rob, the press has set up camp outside the front entrance. You might want to come around the back.” Vicky Bainbridge’s voice was filled with suppressed excitement. She loved it when they had a big case on, and the journalists came sniffing.
“How’d the press release go?”
“Short and sweet. You know Sam.”
He did. The Chief Superintendent didn’t mince his words.
“I heard the alert go out on the radio.”
She sniffed. “He did what needed to be done. We’ve roped in Twickenham to help man the hotline. Hundreds of people are calling in with sightings of Katie.”
It was always the case. It would be up to the officers manning the calls to filter the information and report back anything that warranted further investigation.
Frustration burned in his gut. If they weren’t paying attention, things got missed, but then he couldn’t micromanage everything. He should be back at the station overseeing the case, not out interviewing witnesses, but there was something about this case. He wanted to be in on it. It was important. A little girl’s life depended on him.
“Thanks Vicky, keep me posted.”
“Did you find anything?” she asked, hesitantly.
There was a pause.
“We found the child’s rucksack in the reservoir.”
“Christ,” she croaked. “Poor little thing.”
“I’ve got to go, see you later.”
“We need a fucking lead.” He knocked his fist against the window.
Six hours.
Time was running out.
“Fucking hell,” snapped Rob as they turned off A316 into Kew Road and came to a standstill. The traffic had backed up to the intersection thanks to the crowd that had gathered outside Richmond Police Station.
There was an impatient honking of horns as motorists tried to get past. A motorcyclist weaved through the backlog, nearly swiping his side mirror.
“Where’s traffic control when you need ‘em?” muttered Rob.
As they drove past the front of the building, they saw a uniformed police officer frantically waving cars by and ushering the indifferent reporters onto the pavement. It wasn’t doing much good.
Around the corner, it got even worse. Press vans had ramped the pavement and camera crews were setting up, oblivious to the no parking signs and the yellow line that ran down both sides of the road.
“Don’t the rules apply to the media?” Mallory shook his head.
“It’s a goddamn circus.”
Rob put on the siren and forced his way through the mayhem to the underground carpark entrance around the back. They entered the building via the internal elevator, bypassing the furore outside.
Instead of going up to the top floor where CID was located, he pressed the button for the ground floor. Mallory raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment.
“Get rid of those reporters,” Rob barked to the sweating duty sergeant who’d disabled the revolving door. “This is a police station, for God’s sake. Get some officers out there.”
The man grabbed the telephone. “Yes, sir.”
“Unbelievable,” Rob muttered, shaking his head.
They took the elevator to the top floor.
“DCI Miller. My office!”
The Chief Superintendent’s voice rebounded around the squad room the moment they walked through the doors.
“Here we go,” he murmured, as Mallory fled to his desk. Sometimes Rob understood why the DI didn’t ask for that transfer. It was easier letting someone else take the brunt.
“Sir?”
“What the fuck are you doing waltzing around Barnes? I need you running things from here. You’re not a DS anymore.”
“I was visiting the crime scene,” he said.
“Well, make sure you’re here from now on. Someone’s got to keep this show on the road.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What have you got? The Police Commissioner is breathing down my neck and there’s a riot in the street outside.”
Rob didn’t dare sit down. “We found the kid’s rucksack in Barnes reservoir. The dog unit is there now trying to pick up her
