“I’m sure they must do. I’ll find out.”
He got on the phone.
“Yes, they do monitor the calls, but they can’t share them without a warrant,” he confirmed once he’d hung up.
“Get one,” snapped Rob.
An hour later, Will was faxing the warrant through to the charity. An hour after that, the call log landed in Will’s inbox.
The entire team listened to the conversation.
Hello?
Hello, you’ve reached The Homestead helpline. What is your name, please?”
“Is that him?” asked Jenny. “Is that Daley’s voice?”
“It’s him,” said Jo.
Elise.
She was too young to think about using a false name.
Hello Elise. Is there something you’d like to discuss?
Um… I don’t know.
It’s okay to feel nervous. Take your time.
A long pause.
My daddy hurts me.
Jenny’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, God.”
The rest listened, tight lipped.
How does he hurt you, Elise?
Daley was good, Rob gave him that much. He was a seasoned councillor. His tone was warm and friendly, he reassured her, used her first name.
He makes me do things that I don’t want to do.
“I can’t listen to any more,” said Jenny.
Will glanced at Rob, who nodded. He turned it off.
“We’ve heard enough,” Rob said coarsely. “It’s him alright.”
“Boss,” Evan piped up, breaking the heavy silence that had descended over the incident room. “Paul Daley drives a white Vauxhall Combo Cargo. It’s similar to the one we picked up on camera the evening Arina Parvin disappeared.”
“Have you got a shot of it?” Rob glanced at Jo. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. They were closing in.
“Not the real thing, but this is what it looks like.” He turned his screen around and zoomed in on the bottom panel. Beside it, he’d placed the image taken from the CCTV camera.
“They’re identical.”
Rob took a deep breath. “Okay, let’s bring him in. I want that vehicle searched as well as every room in his house. If there’s a shred of DNA in that place that belongs to any of the girls, we’ve got him.”
53
The Shepherd got home and hung his jacket on the coat hook by the door. God, he was tired. There was nothing nice about a police cell. It stank of sweat and disinfectant and fear.
He shuddered when he thought about all the miscreants who’d slept there before him.
He couldn’t get upstairs fast enough before he stripped off his clothes. Naked, he stood in the bath and let the hot water run over him, purifying him. Then, he lathered himself from head to foot and scrubbed his skin until it was raw.
When he got out, he could still smell the stench of unwashed bodies on him.
He threw his soiled clothes into the rubbish bin. There was no way he was wearing those again.
Going downstairs, he made himself a cup of tea and put some toast in the toaster. The smell made his stomach rumble. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. They’d kept him there for hours, asking the same questions over and over again.
Did he know the dead girls?
Were they clients of his?
Was that his voice on the phone call?
He’d deflected them with ease. How was he supposed to remember every single call? He took thousands. Besides, it was years ago.
He was disappointed not to see Jo again, though. Two other detectives had interviewed him. Maybe she’d been watching from afar, he thought he could feel her eyes on him.
He admired her. She was feisty. But then she always had been.
Or maybe he’d spooked her after this morning’s chat.
It was then that the phone rang.
“Hello?” Dessie was the only person who called him on his landline.
“Oh, my gosh,” she gushed. “I’ve been so worried.”
“It’s okay.” He watched the steam from his cup of tea curl up towards the ceiling making his mouth water. “I’m fine, they released me. It was all a big misunderstanding.”
“Are you sure, Paul, because they questioned me too. I was terrified, I’ve never been questioned by the police before.”
“What kind of questions?”
“About the afternoon you came round to talk to Gail.” He relaxed. They’d said they’d check out his alibi.
“So, what’s the problem? I was with you guys all afternoon. You did the right thing by telling them that.”
He heard her sniffling and softened his tone. It was an automatic response. He used it on the kids he counselled every day. “Calm down, Dessie. There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine. It’s over now.”
“Paul, I’m scared for you.”
“You’ve got nothing to be scared of. Everything is going to be alright.”
“No, it’s not.” she was crying now.
He sighed and leaned over to reach for his tea.
“You see, I remembered something that doesn’t make sense.”
He bristled, tea poised halfway to his lips. “What’s that?”
“You weren’t here on the fifteenth, when you said you were. You came on the fourteenth. I remembered because the fourteenth is the annual flower show at Garson’s Farm, and I went that morning to stock up on geraniums for my hanging baskets. They have those lovely ones that flop over the side of the pot.”
He clenched his jaw. “I think you’re mistaken, dear. I never get my days muddled. It was the fifteenth I was there.”
She sniffed. “It wasn’t, Paul. I’m absolutely certain of it. Why did you tell the police you were here on the fifteenth, the day that girl went missing, if you weren’t?”
Cold fury clutched at his heart. Stupid woman. She was going to ruin everything.
He put the tea back down on the table.
Think!
“You didn’t have anything to do with her disappearance, did you?” Her voice trembled.
“Of course not, don’t be daft. I’ll have another look at my dairy. It’s possible I made a mistake.”
He turned the pages of his Filofax loudly.
It had been almost a year ago. He’d spoken to Angie Nolan on the phone. One last follow-up call after her mother’s divorce. He’d told her he was going to make everything better, that she just had to meet him that night in the alleyway behind her house. He’d take care of everything.
She’d been so desperate, she agreed.
He promised her
