His voice carried over the heads of his colleagues. “We have a missing person and we’re going to need all hands on deck with this one.”
Richmond wasn’t a big police force, twenty-three officers in total, two teams overseen by Detective Chief Superintendent Sam Lawrence, a beast of a man in his fifties with a booming voice that could lead troops into battle.
Rob was the only DCI, but they had two DI’s, Mallory and a burly Scot named Galbraith, who was currently sunning it up in Tenerife with his wife, lucky bastard. Galbraith’s team was present, however, and Rob planned to put them to good use.
Mallory had already darted into the briefing room and wheeled out the white board that they used for presentations. The new glass-enclosed briefing rooms might look impressive, but they didn’t allow for more than a dozen officers at a time.
DCS Lawrence emerged from his fishbowl and stood at the back. His hulking, silent presence a stark reminder of how grave the situation was.
Many of them had heard the original call-out and knew what was coming.
Rob filled them in on the details. “Eleven-year-old Katie Wells was abducted on her way to school in Barnes this morning. Her mother, Lisa Wells, saw her off at eight forty a.m. but the school called at twenty past nine to find out if Katie was unwell. The friend who she usually walks to school with arrived alone. From what I understand, Katie was later than usual this morning and the friend, Candy, didn’t wait.”
Nobody moved, they were hanging onto his every word. The trusty office clock that usually ticked its way through charged silences such as this one had been replaced by a digital upgrade that screamed out the silent passing of time in neon blue.
“The abduction occurred between eight forty and nine twenty this morning. That’s a little over three hours ago.”
Several eyes flew to the glaring blue digits.
“Jeff and Harry, can you get onto the council for any CCTV footage in the area during that window? There’s a council estate around the corner, they might have security cameras, as well as a newsagent further down the road.”
The rookies always did the CCTV work, although more and more they were outsourcing it to civilian operators trained to pick up the slightest clues in body language.
Jeff nodded, he’d been on CCTV duty before and knew what they were in for, but Harry, a rookie DC with exotic, movie-star good looks, gave an enthusiastic, “Yes, sir.”
Rumour was he’d had a bit-part in EastEnders and supplemented his income by appearing in the odd commercial.
Mallory wrote Katie Wells’ address on the white board. In a short while, he’d pin a map of the area beside it, highlighting her street and the route she usually took to school.
“What school does she go to?” asked an American voice from Galbraith’s team. Evan, Rob thought his name was. He didn’t know the soft-spoken Detective Constable that well, since he was also fairly new to the department, but he seemed competent and his desk was always immaculately tidy.
“Bromley Prep. We’ll put up the details shortly.”
Mallory wrote the school name underneath Katie’s home address. Below that, he wrote Candice Dalling and a question mark.
That led Rob on to his next point.
“DS Mallory and I will talk to the school friend, Candy, but I don’t expect she’ll know much since she didn’t see Katie this morning.” He moved on. “Will, you’ve got Katie’s mobile number. We need to see if we can get a read on her. Her mother says it’s going straight to voicemail.”
Will, a competent DS who used to work in the vice squad prior to transferring to CID, said, “It’s switched off, so we can’t trace it. It may have been damaged or destroyed. But I’m looking into her last known position.”
Rob gave him a terse nod and pushed on. “We’ve scrambled a helicopter and the dog unit is on their way. When you study the map, you’ll see there’s a wooded area next to the river, that’s Barnes nature reserve, and we think she might have been taken there. It provides the most coverage and would have been the quickest way of getting her off the road and out of sight.”
“Wouldn’t Lonsdale Road have been busy at that time of day?” asked Jenny Bird, an up and coming DS who’d been instrumental in bringing the Revenge Killer – bloody journalists and their nicknames – to justice last year. “It was rush hour.”
“Yeah, but don’t forget Hammersmith Bridge is still closed, so not many cars use that route anymore unless they’re travelling locally. The only way across the river is via Putney or Chiswick bridge. Still, there is bike and pedestrian traffic. We’ll put out a public alert, someone may have seen something.”
He snapped his fingers. “Get Vicky Bainbridge up here. She needs to hear this.”
Vicky, a stylish, cool-as-cucumber woman in her early forties was the Richmond police’s press liaison officer. She controlled the flow of information from the department to the public and helped them issue any appeals for information. She also trained the officers who gave statements to the press, making sure they maintained a confident, capable air on television, and didn’t divulge too much or get flustered under the often-aggressive media onslaught. Even now, Rob hated doing them, but with Vicky’s guidance, he’d become a lot better at it.
Jenny fired off a text message. Her phone buzzed in response.
“She’s on her way up.”
Rob gazed over the heads turned towards him until it settled on a dark, curly-haired DC with a smiling, round face. “Celeste, I need you to organise a door-to-door. We have to canvass everybody who lives on Katie’s street, as well as on her route to school. It’s only three blocks, but we need to do it ASAP.”
Celeste turned bright pink at being signalled out, but her face broke into a wide grin. She was
