“Yes, sir!”
Rob addressed the entire room. “We have to move fast, people. I don’t have to tell you that every second counts. The helicopter and K-9 unit will feed info back to this department. Any leads, call me directly.”
His team nodded.
“The rest of you, we’ve got search teams at Katie’s house and her father’s, Brian Wells, as well as the mother’s boyfriend, an Eastern European by the name of Sergio Wojcik.”
Mallory had written their full names and addresses on the board.
“Find out all you can about these three persons of interest. Any criminal records, domestics, mental health issues, you know the drill. Also, check the CCTV footage in their areas, see if their alibis hold up. Both men claim they hadn’t left home by the time they got the message from Lisa saying Katie had disappeared. I also want all ANPR data for vehicles leaving that area in the given timeframe. Every car, van and lorry must be documented and traced.”
Heads bobbed. Nobody questioned the orders. A missing child was as serious as it got.
Vicky Bainbridge sashayed in. As usual, she was immaculately attired in a navy skirt suit with a white blouse, open at the neck, displaying a sleek gold necklace that glittered against her tanned skin. She’d just got back from one of the Greek islands, but he couldn’t remember which one.
“I’ve heard. The disappearance is all over social media. There seems to be some sort of local search and rescue going on.”
“Christ.” Rob ran a hand through his hair that was becoming increasingly wayward as the day wore on.
“Get over there, Rob,” belted Lawrence from the back, making several unsuspecting officers jump. “We can’t have community helpers contaminating a potential crime scene, no matter how well-meaning they are. Have we cordoned off the nature reserve?”
They hadn’t. Not yet, anyway.
“I’m on it.”
“Are we issuing a Child Rescue Alert?” Vicky turned to Lawrence. This was the UK equivalent to the US Amber Alert system upon which it had been based. “If we are, might I suggest doing it sooner rather than later, before the trail goes cold.”
She knew her stuff. Prior to the police service, Vicky had been a news presenter on a local talk radio station until a caller had begun leaving threatening messages. After what had happened to Jill Dando, the BBC Crimewatch presenter who’d been gunned down outside her house in west London, she hadn’t wanted to take any chances.
“No career is worth my life,” she’d told Rob once, after drinks at the local pub.
DCS Lawrence nodded. “I’ll take care of it. Rob. You get going.”
Rob raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t often the Chief Super issued a press release these days. But he was right, Rob was better utilised elsewhere right now, and since DI Mallory would be with him, the Super was the highest ranked officer on site.
Vicky pursed her lips, also surprised. “Okay, Sam. I’ll mobilise the powers that be. Shall we say half an hour out front?”
He nodded and disappeared back into his glass office. He didn’t need a pre-release briefing. His thirty years’ experience was more than enough.
5
Rob and Mallory listened to the child abduction alert on the radio on the way to Katie Well’s house. It interrupted the local programme, and it would be broadcast to television stations across the UK, followed by the social media channels.
Lawrence pitched the perfect blend of sombre and urgent as he urged the public to keep their eyes and ears open, and if they saw anyone resembling eleven-year-old Katie Wells – dark hair, blue eyes, wearing school uniform and carrying a pink rucksack – to contact the police straight away by dialling 999.
“Let’s hope someone saw something,” Mallory murmured as they drove alongside the glittering Thames. The rowers were out in full force this morning, their streamlined eight-man boats flying along with effortless grace, hardly creating a ripple on the glassy surface.
Rob grunted in reply. It was unlikely, but you never knew. Sometimes they got lucky.
The street in which Katie lived was now cordoned off with uniformed officers stationed at each end. Police vehicles were parked along both sides of the road, their unapologetic blue lights sending an ominous message. Back off. Something terrible happened here.
Uniformed officers conducted house-to-house enquiries. Residents were out on the pavement answering questions and straining their necks to see if they could spot Lisa, the hapless, ill-fated mother of the missing child. Every parent’s worst nightmare.
A small crowd had gathered outside a neighbour’s property. It was a well-maintained double-storey terraced house with over-zealous pot-plants positioned on either side of the glossy black front door. A Porsche 4x4 stood in the driveway. It made the Wells’ house look dingy by comparison, even though theirs was within keeping of the general middle-class standard of the neighbourhood.
A tall, middle-aged man stood on the steps outside, addressing the group. He had a commanding presence. Successful businessman. Married. Moved to the area for the schools but worked in the city. Several people had their phones out and were capturing the moment.
“What’s going on here?”
Rob marched up, closely followed by Mallory who scanned the faces of everyone in the gathering. He’d commit them to memory and while not as effective as a photograph since it was only in his head, he’d still be able to recognise a face if it popped up later. Perpetrators often involved themselves in an investigation by joining the search.
They’d take names and contact details too, just in case.
Rob walked right up to the speaker and held up his warrant card. “DCI Miller from Richmond CID. We’re leading this investigation. Could you tell me what’s going on here?”
“We want to help find Katie,” the homeowner said.
Nods all round.
“And you are?”
“Ed Maplin. I head up the neighbourhood watch.”
Aah.
“Okay, Mr Maplin. While we appreciate what you’re doing here, we have officers conducting a thorough search of the area, including the nature reserve.”
As if to emphasise the point, the
