“Is there somewhere we can talk?” asked Rob.
The gallery was empty, but Rob didn't want anyone walking in and overhearing their conversation. Payne was of the same mind because he gestured for them to follow him. “I have a back office.”
They filed into the small musty space. Rob glanced around. Oil paintings against the wall, frames piled on a desk, the acrid smell of turpentine.
“Take a seat.”
They sat opposite Payne. Between them was an antique mahogany desk on which was an open laptop. He closed it and gazed at them.
“You want to know where I was the day that little girl went missing?”
It was clear he’d been down this road before.
“The morning, if you don’t mind. Between eight and ten a.m.”
“Remind me which day it was?” Very clever. Rob caught his eye and knew that he knew exactly which day the little girl had gone missing.
“Tuesday, the second of August.” He kept his voice even.
“Ah, well I opened early on Tuesday. Monday is my Sunday, you see, and there’s always deliveries and things to attend to on Tuesday morning.”
“What time did you get to the gallery?”
“I was here by eight thirty. We usually open at nine-thirty. Ten, on weekends.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?” Mallory asked.
The man ran his eyes over the DI and Rob thought he saw an appreciative spark. If Mallory noticed, he didn’t let on. “Indigo can.”
“Indigo?” Rob frowned. “Who’s that?”
“The barista at the Olympic Cafe. I get my morning coffee there before I open up shop.”
Rob glanced at Mallory, who got up and excused himself. The Olympic Cafe was right next door and there was no time like the present.
Rob saw Payne’s eyes follow Mallory as he left the office.
“How long did you do in Wakefield?” Rob asked.
“Six years.” His eyes hardened. Not so amenable anymore.
“You assaulted a minor,” Rob said. “You abused a position of trust.”
He sighed, a bit overdramatically. “So I've been told. I served my time, okay, and I’ve kept to myself since then. I have no intention of going back inside.” He suppressed a shiver. They weren’t too kind on nonces in prison.
“Did you ever meet Katie Wells?” Rob watched for a reaction. The man would deny it, even if he did know her.
His eyes widened slightly. “No, I didn’t.”
The overriding expression was one of quiet defiance.
Rob sighed. “Okay, Mr Payne. Thanks for your time.”
Payne saw him out and watched from the door as he joined Mallory next door at the cafe. Rob glanced back. Payne waved. The smile on his face made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.
“Was he here?” Mallory had just finished talking to a tall, blonde woman in a floor length, sleeveless dress.
“The manager said Indigo only comes on shift at twelve. Do you want to wait?”
Rob glanced at his watch. It was ten fifteen.
“Nah, we’ve got too much to do. Send someone else to talk to him.”
They walked back to the car. Payne had gone back inside his icy lair, but his shadowy figure could be seen lurking behind the glass frontage.
“That guy gives me the creeps,” Rob said. “Let’s check him out thoroughly and make sure he’s not connected to the family in any way.”
“You think he could be involved?” Mallory seemed surprised. He obviously hadn’t picked up the same vibes Rob had.
He kept his eyes on the glass front until the shadow disappeared. “I’m not sure, but I don’t trust him.”
They stopped at Tessa Parvin’s house on the way back. “There’s something I want to ask her,” said Rob.
It was another perfect day. Barnes pond was surrounded by mothers and toddlers, feeding the ducks. Couples watched their kids play. Rob wondered, just for a moment, what it would be like to do that with Jo.
Tessa was pottering in her garden when they pulled up in front of her house. She raised her head and waved. A nice change from their last greeting. Her front door had been replaced.
“Good morning, detectives.” She wiped her hands on a dirty tea cloth. “I was just pruning my lavender. It grows like wildfire this time of year. Lovely though. Would you like some for the station? I have tonnes of the stuff.”
“No, thank you,” he said with a grin. “I’ve actually just popped in to ask you something.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Is this to do with Arina’s disappearance?”
“Yes. I spoke to PC Brightman, the constable who responded to your emergency call out the night Arina went missing. He mentioned your husband had packed some of his belongings, which is how you knew he’d left.”
She nodded, shading her eyes from the sun. “That’s right. He’d taken his suitcase.”
“What about Arina’s things?” Rob asked. “Had he packed any of her stuff? Was her suitcase missing too?”
Tessa tossed her secateurs onto the ground. “No. Arina’s things hadn’t been touched.”
“You’re sure about that?”
“Of course, I’m sure. No one had been into her room. I told you, Ramin wasn’t interested in Arina. There was no way he’d taken her with him.”
That’s what he thought.
“Okay, thanks for clarifying.”
“Does this mean you’ll reopen the case?” Her voice was hopeful, desperate.
Mallory glanced down at his feet.
“We’re still looking into it,” Rob replied. Luckily the glare prevented her from meeting his gaze. He didn’t tell her she was still a potential suspect.
She nodded. “Thank you, detective.”
“We need to find out one way or another whether Arina Parvin is living in Iran,” he said, as they walked back to the car.
“Harry has a contact,” Mallory pointed out, which Rob already knew. “I’ll chase him up on it.”
“That’s the only way we’ll know for sure whether she’s a real missing person,” he said. “It’s unlikely we’re going to get anywhere through official channels.”
“Would the NCA be able to help?” Mallory asked.
He had a point. Jo’s organisation would have contacts to non-profits and humanitarian groups in the country. They might be able to find out if Ramin Parvin had arrived with his daughter four years ago or where she was now.
“It’s worth a shot,” he said. “I’ll
