“Unless she was hidden close by,” Jo surmised.
“Yeah, but there was no sign of Katie found at either of their properties, and we checked the entire road. Twice.”
Jo just shook her head.
Rob cradled his wine. “There’s this paedophile in the area, a local guy called Payne. We got his name off the sex offenders register. But as far as we know, he didn’t have any connection to Katie.”
Jo frowned. “A paedophile? I can look into him, if you like. That’s in our ballpark.”
He nodded. “Thanks. Anything you can dig up, would be useful.”
He wasn’t going to say no. The National Crime Agency had an entire department dedicated to child abuse and exploitation. It was one of their specialities. Any information they had on this Payne character would far outweigh anything Will could get his hands on – if there was anything to be found.
“It was awful,” Jo whispered. “After Rachel disappeared.”
Rob leaned back and watched her. He could see the grief hovering behind her clear, blue eyes. “My mother fell to pieces. Rachel was her favourite. She was always so vibrant and girly. Popular too.”
“What about you?” Rob wanted to know.
“I was more of a tomboy. I spent most of my time playing football with my cousins up the road. I remember they had a big garden with a goal post at one end. I didn’t really get on with the girls at school. My mother never said as much, but I’m pretty certain she wished I’d been taken instead.”
“You can’t know that.” Rob was shocked that she’d feel that way.
“We didn’t have the best relationship,” Jo admitted. “Mum was very feminine herself, Rachel was just like her. After she disappeared, mum couldn’t cope, so I moved in with my grandparents.”
“I’m sorry.” He pictured Jo as a lost little girl, reeling from her sister’s disappearance, having no one to turn to.
“My nana was wonderful.” Her face lit up. It was clear they’d been very close. “She became my surrogate mum. I spent the majority of the next few years at their house. I used to tinker with my grandfather in the garage, play for the local football club, I was happy.” She shrugged.
“What about your father?” he asked.
“My father was at a loss at what to do. I remember him arguing with my mother in the weeks after Rachel’s disappearance. It was terrible. That’s one of the reasons my grandmother took me in. Their marriage broke up pretty soon after that. Dad moved to Scotland to be near the oil rigs. He wanted to get as far away as possible. Mum withdrew into herself. I remember her walking around like a zombie. She was there, but in her mind, she wasn’t there, if you know what I mean?”
“Couldn’t have been much fun for you,” Rob remarked.
“No, but I was young, so I didn’t really understand. I knew Rachel wasn’t coming back, but I didn’t know what had happened to her. I thought she’d run away.” She paused, playing with the stem of her wine glass.
“It was only when I was older that I began to understand the implications of her disappearance. My grandmother explained it to me when I was a teenager. My mother never mentioned Rachel again.”
“That’s tough,” Rob commented.
She gave a dry little laugh. “You’re the first person I’ve ever talked to about it.”
“I’m honoured.” He bowed his head. “I’m just sorry you had such an awful time of it. Do you see much of your parents?”
She shook her head. “Mum’s in a home near Manchester. She never quite recovered. I haven’t seen her in years. Like I said, we’re not close.”
“And your dad?”
“He died several years back. Heart attack.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“That’s okay. Everybody has their skeletons, right?”
She was right about that.
He looked at her with newfound respect. Not only had she suffered parental neglect growing up, but she’d made her way through university into the police force and worked her way up to the rank of Detective Inspector for the National Crime Agency.
Pride filled his chest, along with something he didn’t care to put a label on.
She saw the way he was looking at her and whispered, “I’m tired of talking. Shall we go to bed?”
He nodded. Right now, there was nothing he wanted to do more.
Silently, she took his hand and they went upstairs.
19
The gallery where Payne worked was situated in the centre of Barnes village, a few shops down from the theatre. The glass frontage added a sheen to the contemporary works on display.
“I never did get modern art,” Rob confessed to Mallory.
“It helps if you know the context,” Mallory said.
Rob raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for an art lover?”
“Not a lover, no, more of an aesthete.”
Rob grinned. His partner was full of surprises.
Inside, it was freezing cold. Rob was always amazed at how just because it was summer, people thought they ought to run the air-conditioning at full blast.
It wasn’t even ten o’clock.
Pale floorboards stretched from one end of the gallery to the other. The walls were a muted white, and every painting had a light fixture above it, to illuminate the canvas and show it off to its best advantage.
A marble head stared blankly at them from a pedestal, while a predatory tiger made entirely from metal wire crouched in the corner, waiting to pounce.
“Can I help you?” a high-pitched nasal voice asked.
“Are you Anthony Payne?”
The man nodded warily. He was slim, well dressed, with a mousy-blond combover.
“I’m DCI Miller and this is DI Mallory.” They both held up their ID’s. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions.”
He looked away. “This is about that little girl, isn’t it?”
Rob raised an eyebrow. “How did you know?”
“Whenever something like that happens, the police inevitably come knocking on my door.”
That’s the price you pay for sexually assaulting a
