“Will is chasing it up, but they need more time.”
The Chief Superintendent sighed. His hand shook slightly as he raked it through his hair. “Time is something we don’t have. Have you released the father?”
“Yeah, it doesn’t look like he had anything to do with it. The only thing he’s guilty of is wanting to spend more time with his kid.”
Lawrence shook his head. “Damn shame.” Once again, his eyes flickered to the family photo on his desk.
“What a way to go out,” he muttered.
“Sir?”
“We have to find this girl, Rob. I don’t want to retire with this hanging over my head.”
It was the first time Rob had heard Lawrence admit he was packing it in. Everyone knew he was, but he’d never come out and said it. Because that would make it real.
“You’ll be missed, sir.”
“Thank you, Rob.” He seemed to pull himself together. “I’ll update the Commissioner; he’s coming in later this morning. When are the Crimewatch crew turning up?”
Fuck, he’d forgotten about them. “I’m not a hundred percent sure, but I’ve put Harry, I mean, DC Malhotra in charge. He’s had some experience with the film industry.”
“Very good.” The Chief Super nodded. “And let me know the moment you find something. We could all do with some good news.”
“I’ll do my best, sir.”
It was midmorning when the film crew arrived. Vicky strode in followed by a chic female presenter who Rob recognised from the Crimewatch programme. Behind them were the entourage. Sound engineer, cameraman, gaffers and an assortment of equipment.
“That’s our cue to leave,” Rob murmured to Mallory.
Too late. Vicky made a beeline for him.
“Morning Rob, do you have a moment?”
He pointed to his phone. “Sorry, Vicky. Can’t stop. DC Malhotra’s ready for you. He’ll brief you and help you get set up.” Harry came forward, a smile on his perfect face.
The Crimewatch presenter smiled back.
“But…” Vicky’s reply was lost as he dashed out, followed closely by Mallory.
The south east of England was gripped by a rare heatwave with average temperatures soaring into the mid-thirties. Red-faced pedestrians walked around in strappy tops and shorts, fanning themselves, while inside the police vehicle, they blasted the air con.
Belgrave Street, where Katie lived, was no longer cordoned off, and they drove right up to the house.
“This heat is crazy,” said Mallory, as they stepped out onto the shimmering tarmac. He’d replaced his normal long-sleeved shirt with a short-sleeved one, displaying pale, skinny arms.
Rob noticed Ed watering the pot plants either side of his glossy front door. Obviously not at work today, then.
“Morning,” he called.
Ed glanced up. “Morning, detectives. Any news on Katie?”
“We’re following several promising leads,” he lied.
“I heard you had Brian Wells in custody.”
“We let him go. He wasn’t charged.”
Ed nodded. “Glad to hear it. Terrible to think that the kid’s own father…” His voice petered off. Rob knew what he meant.
“We’ll be by later to have a chat,” Rob told him, then turned to Mallory. “Let’s start at the far end. I’ll take the houses on this side; you do that side.”
Mallory gave a curt nod and marched towards the first house at the far end. A lot of what they were doing was pure gut work. They weren’t just searching for signs of Katie like kids’ toys, items of clothing or supplies, but also for anyone acting abnormally, trying too hard, being subversive, or just giving off suspicious vibes. Rob trusted Mallory implicitly. If there was something fishy going on with any of the residents, no matter how small, Mallory would flag it.
He watched as Mallory rapped on the door. They made a great team. It would be a shame when Mallory moved on but move on, he must. He deserved to run his own murder squad. Rob made a mental note to talk to the Chief Super about it.
Rob worked his way down his side. It was basic policing, usually left to the uniformed division, but surprise was key. If any of the residents were hiding Katie on their premises, they wouldn’t be expecting a second visit.
It didn’t take longer than half an hour to get through the entire left side of the street. He saved the Maplin’s house until last, so they could have a chat.
This time it was Mrs Maplin who answered the door.
“Please, call me Julia,” she said, as she showed him into the living room, an eye-watering, floral extravaganza that proved money couldn’t buy good taste. “Is this about poor Katie?”
‘Yes.” Rob sat down on a daffodil-yellow loveseat that hurt to look at. “We’re re-canvassing the area in case anyone remembers seeing anything unusual the morning of her disappearance.”
“Would you like some tea or a cold refreshment?”
“No, I’m good. Thanks.”
She nodded and sat down.
Rob could have done with a cold drink, but he didn’t want to impose, and he was in a hurry. They’d wasted enough time. This was fast turning into a useless endeavour.
He needed to get back to the station to collaborate any evidence that had come in this morning. They were still waiting on the DNA samples from Katie’s backpack.
“Well, I’m not sure how I can help you, DCI Miller.”
“Could you take me through your movements yesterday morning?”
Her eyes widened. “Yes, of course. As soon as we heard that Katie had gone missing, we rallied everyone together. The idea was to form a search party and look for her.”
“How did you hear?”
“It was hard not to. Lisa was running up and down the road screaming her name.” She shook her head. “My heart broke for her. I went to see if I could help. Then you lot arrived, and the street was cordoned off…”
He knew the rest.
“And your husband didn’t go to work yesterday?”
She chucked. “No, he works from home most days now, although he still goes in for the odd meeting.”
“What does he do?”
“He’s a Financial Consultant.” Like it was a revered position.
It must be nice to work
