“What gave you that impression?”
“He’d packed some of his belongings. She hadn’t realised until we looked in his room and saw his suitcase was gone.”
That was new.
“What about Arina’s room?” Rob asked quickly. “Were any of her things gone?”
“Not that I can remember,” he said.
“Doesn’t that strike you as odd? That the father packed for himself but not his daughter?”
Brightman hesitated. “Maybe. Like I said, I only reported it as a missing person. I wasn’t involved in…”
“I know,” Rob interjected. “You weren’t involved in the investigation. I’m just asking from an observer's point of view. So, you’re sure nothing in Arina’s room had been taken? No clothes, no suitcase, no personal items?”
“If there were, her mother didn’t mention it.”
He made a mental note to ask Tessa about that. “Is there anything else you can tell me about that visit?”
“Like what?”
“Like was anyone else at the house with her? Did she make any phone calls? Did anything strike you as strange?”
“There was nobody with her, but she received plenty of phone calls.”
“From who? Do you remember?”
“From concerned friends and neighbours, I think, but it was a while ago. I can’t remember every little detail. DCI Purley interviewed all her daughter’s friends later. Their statements should be in the file.”
“Thank you, you’ve been very helpful.”
“What’s this about then?” Brightman asked, almost as an afterthought.
“That’s all for now,” Rob said, talking over him. “Thanks again, Constable.”
And he cut the call.
The digital clock blinked 08:30.
Katie had been missing for thirty-six hours.
“Guv, I’ve got something.” Will beckoned him over.
Rob pushed himself up from his desk. His limbs felt heavy like he was wading through mud, and weariness tugged at his eyelids. He stifled a yawn. “What is it?”
Please let it be a lead.
“I searched the sex offenders register and got a hit in Barnes. Sir, you may want to check this guy out.”
It was standard procedure when a child went missing to look into local offenders, but according to statistics, eighty percent of child abductions were committed by people known to the victim. Only twenty percent by strangers. The chances of a complete stranger randomly selecting Katie Wells on her way to school was slim.
Still, they had fuck-all else to go on.
“Who is it?”
“A former art teacher called Anthony Payne. He works in a gallery in Church Road.”
“What’s he on for?”
“Possessing indecent images, voyeurism and sexually assaulting a minor.”
“Christ.”
“Yeah, the trifecta. He did six years at HMP Wakefield. Release five years ago.”
“Any connection to Katie?”
Will shook his head. “Not that I can find, sir. I still thought it was worth mentioning.”
“Okay, thanks Will. Send me the details. I’ll check him out first thing tomorrow.” He stifled a yawn. Despite the espresso, his body was shutting down. The atmosphere in the squad room felt oppressive. He had a sudden urge to escape. A need for fresh air and normality. “Right now, I’m going home. I suggest you do the same.”
Moral was low, they could all do with an evening off. Sitting here, drumming their heads against the wall wasn’t going to make Katie Wells magically reappear.
He told everyone to call it a day, then rang Jo. She agreed to meet him at his place in an hour. Perfect. It would give him time to walk Trigger, and he desperately needed to clear his head. He didn’t want to be on a downer when Jo got there.
When Jo arrived, she moved wordlessly into his arms and hugged him. He held her close, breathing in the warm, vanilla scent of her hair. Slowly, the tension of the last two days began to melt away.
“You’re so good for me,” he murmured.
She smiled, moving away. A moment of recognition. “I needed that too. Do you have anything to eat? I’m starving.”
They went into the kitchen and made a comforting Napolitana pasta for supper, which they devoured with a loaf of chunky farmhouse bread that Rob had picked up on his way home. Fortified, they washed it down with a fruity Australian Sauvignon Blanc.
Up until now, they’d resisted talking about the case.
A glass of wine and Jo said, “You looked into my sister’s case, didn’t you?”
He suppressed a grin. “How did you know?”
“I know you.”
“Yes, but apart from the girls being roughly the same age and of course, the rock weighing down the backpack, there aren’t any other obvious similarities. It’s unlikely they’re related.”
She gazed into her wineglass. “That’s what I thought too.”
“The funny thing is,” he continued. “One of the Barnes residents who knew Katie also had her daughter taken four years ago. Talk about coincidences.”
“Same age?”
He nodded.
Jo stared at him. “Two missing girls, three if you count Rachel. I’d say that’s more than a coincidence. Besides, I didn’t think you believed in them.”
“I never used to, but I have to admit, this case is full of them. There’s the dog walker caught on voicemail who approached Katie in the street seconds before she was abducted, Katie’s father who booked one-way tickets to France, Tessa Parvin and her missing daughter, the similarity with your sister.” He ran a hand through his hair. “And none of them panned out.”
“None that you know of,” Jo revised. “Any one of them could be related, you just haven’t found the link yet.”
He sighed. “Do you really think there is one? I’m inclined to believe they’re all dead ends. The woman was heard moving away from Katie with her dog, Brian Wells is a broken man who just wants to spend time with his daughter, Tessa Parvin wanted to help find Katie because she knew what Lisa was going through, and your sister was miles away in another county and another decade.”
“What about alibis?” she asked.
“It mostly boils down to the timing. Brian arrived at Lisa’s house within half an hour of Katie’s disappearance, so he didn’t have time to hide her anywhere, and the tail we’ve had on him hasn’t turned up squat.”
“Hmm…” Jo pursed her lips.
“Tessa Parvin is a similar story. She was part of the local search team run by
