Gardener’s mobile rang.
“Boss?”
“Found anything?”
“Information. Get yourself ready, I’ll pick you up in ten minutes. I’m taking you into the city centre, to the Dark Arches. You’re looking for a man they call ‘The Bear’. From what I’ve gathered, you can’t get to Bob Crisp without him.”
“Is that where he is? The Dark Arches?”
“I doubt it. But it’s as good a place as any to start. Get the grubbiest clothes you can find, and I’ll see you soon.” Reilly broke the connection.
Gardener thought back to the day they’d met Bob Crisp, near the kiosk on the grounds of the church. If the vagrant had been shadowed by The Bear, neither he nor Reilly had noticed. He abhorred filth, vagrants, and anything else connected to them. Tonight, he was not only going to have to imitate one, but mix with them as well. He then thought of Chris, and why he had to do it.
Gardener left the kitchen and entered the garage through the connecting door. His work clothes were where he had left them after working on the bike, in a heap near the discarded dustsheet.
Back in the kitchen, he threw them in the tumble dryer to warm.
Reilly arrived quicker than he said he would. Gardener changed clothes, surprised that a mixture of odours, paraffin, oil, and sweat still remained despite a tumble dryer sheet.
“How’s the search going?”
“Usual stuff. Briggs had officers at the school, he’s spoken to everyone he can think of. In fact, he’s set up a special unit to work twenty-four hours on the case. He’s using the press for an appeal.”
Gardener was touched by his superior officer’s actions. “It won’t get that far. Come hell or high water, I’ll find my son before Christmas.”
“I like your spirit, my friend. And you’re not on your own. We’ll find your son,” Reilly said.
“Dad, I’m going,” Gardener said to Malcolm as he entered the kitchen.
“Dressed like that?”
“It’s a long story.” Gardener paused. “Look, I’m sorry about what I said. Thanks for what you’re doing.”
“You’re welcome, son. Whatever you’re doing, I don’t think I’m going to like the idea, so I won’t ask. For God’s sake, be careful!”
“I will.”
As Gardener and Reilly were about to leave, Malcolm interrupted them. “I almost forgot.”
He walked into the living room, returning with a small parcel. “It came earlier.”
Gardener recognized Colin Sharp’s writing. He stared at it for several moments, weighing the choices he faced. Could he afford to be distracted right now?
“Do me a favour. Keep it safe. I haven’t time to read it.”
Chapter Sixty-six
“What are you doing here, Reilly? It’s late.”
Reilly glanced up and saw Briggs in the doorway. He hadn’t heard him approach.
“I could ask you the same question.”
Briggs stepped into the incident room and dropped into one of the chairs. He sighed, removed his glasses, and rubbed his fingers across his eyelids. To Reilly, he appeared done-in: a crumpled suit, his tie hung low across an open collar, glasses that probably hadn’t been cleaned for a week.
“I’m knackered,” said Briggs. “But I can’t settle. I keep thinking about Chris. Where he might be, wondering what I’d be like in Stewart’s shoes. Everything’s going round in my head. It’s all a bloody jumble.”
Reilly sighed. “I know what you mean. Have you never had kids? I didn’t mean to pry, but the comment...”
Reilly noted the softer expression on Briggs’ normally case-hardened features. “No. My wife couldn’t have them. She was involved in an accident when she was about fourteen. Car crash; did a lot of internal damage. I suppose she was lucky to live.” Briggs paused. “Drunken driver. I knew before we were married, but I loved her. Still do, after thirty years.”
“I admire you. It can’t have been easy.”
Briggs smiled. “No, it wasn’t easy. But it’s like anything, you learn to accept. You fill your life with other things, like holidays, cars, big houses. Anything to hide the real pain. We both wanted children. She came from a big family.”
“Did you not think of adoption?”
“A couple of times. It’s not the same, though, is it? No matter what you say, you can’t love the child the same as you’d love your own. Julie always said she wanted to feel the child inside her. There’s no stronger bond than that.”
“There is another way of looking at it. At least by adopting, you could provide a child with a better life.”
“Don’t get me wrong. We thought about it long and hard. But no matter how many times you discuss it, you have to feel it in here.” Briggs pointed to his heart. “And we didn’t. So, it wouldn’t be fair on the child. At the end of the day, it doesn’t stop your emotions from running over when you’re chasing perverts and paedophiles.” Briggs threw his arms in the air. “I mean, what’s the fucking use?”
Reilly had been surprised by Briggs’ emotional outburst. There was, after all, a humane side to the man. “That’s why I’m in here. I want to have another look at the DVDs we seized from Myers’ flat. The boss reckons Summers is far too defensive when we try to link the porn to his film company.”
“You think Summers is making the films? You think Summers is abducting children and running his own little empire of porn; head of his own paedophile ring?”
“That’s about the size of it. Maybe we’re wrong. I don’t know. It’s a hunch. If there’s no connection on the disc, then we’ve lost nothing. But I don’t trust the man. He’s a parasite. When we searched the house, I had the feeling we didn’t see all of it. There’s a life at stake here. I can’t stand by and do nothing. I owe it
