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fact it was lunchtime was important but asked, ‘And Daniel Carsley, where was he?’

‘He was on the basketball court with his friends.’ Emily pointed through the trees. ‘Over there.’

Ridpath could make out a wire fence and some hoop stands through the trees. ‘How could Daniel Carsley see his brother?’

‘That’s the same question Turnbull asked. The boy said he couldn’t see when he was playing, but stopped to have a look for his brother, noticing the man talking to him.’

Ridpath strode out of the playground area towards the basketball court. Even though it wasn’t far away, the trees surrounding the location blocked most of the view.

‘The only place you can see the playground is from the left-hand corner of the basketball court. Daniel said he looked for his brother, couldn’t see him, so he ran back to check.’

‘Hmm,’ was all that Ridpath answered.

‘Look, I know, but we asked him three times and each time his story was consistent. Plus the description of the man was so detailed and it matched a similar description given by another witness of a man hanging round the tennis courts thirty minutes earlier.’

‘Right, I’ve seen enough here. Let’s go and see Michael Carsley.’

They walked out of the basketball court, across a field towards the Altrincham Road exit. A man sitting on a mower, his ears covered in large orange noise protectors, was heading towards them. Both Ridpath and Emily Parkinson had to jog to get out of his path.

As he ran in front of the mower, Ridpath flagged it down.

The man slowed and brought the machine to a halt. Ridpath flashed his warrant card, indicating the man should take off his noise protectors.

‘Do you mow this park often?’

‘What?’

‘Do you mow Wythenshawe Park often?’

‘About twice a month, we cut a lot of fields.’

‘You work for the council?’

‘Nah, we’re contract, mate.’ He pointed to another mower in a distant field. ‘Do all over the North West, me and him.’

‘Did you mow any of these fields on 21 July, the day of David Carsley’s disappearance?’

‘The young lad who went missing?’

Ridpath nodded.

‘Nah, the police already asked us. We were here the day before, though.’

‘Did you see anything unusual? A man hanging around, perhaps?’

‘Nah, like I told the police, I just cut the grass. Bloody stuff never stops growing this time of year.’

‘Right, thanks for your time.’

As Ridpath and Emily Parkinson walked away, they could hear the engine starting up again and that familiar earthy smell of freshly cut grass assaulted their nostrils.

Emily sneezed. ‘Hay fever,’ she mumbled.

‘What’s that?’ Ridpath pointed to a group of garishly painted vans parked close to Altrincham Road.

‘It’s the local fun fair. They’ve been parking their trucks here for years.’

‘In a park?’

‘Where else? And before you ask, we interviewed them. There were a couple of lads working on the trucks but they saw nothing.’

‘Kids always have an attraction to fairgrounds.’

‘That’s what Turnbull said. So we checked them out and interviewed them separately. Their stories were identical.’

‘So we’ve got this big, open park, a seven-year-old boy goes missing and nobody saw anything?’

‘That about sums it up.’

‘Something doesn’t smell right, Emily.’

‘It’s probably the grass,’ she said, pointing to the long line of hay across the field. ‘Lots of dogs here.’

Chapter 29

Michael Carsley was sitting in exactly the same place as the last time Ridpath had seen him. It was as if he hadn’t moved in twenty-four hours. The television was blaring and the curtains were drawn, with only a thin sliver of the summer’s day fighting its way into the room.

‘Good afternoon, Mr Carsley, can I turn this off?’

Ridpath switched off the TV.

Carsley didn’t move his head.

‘I’d like to have a chat with you about the day your son went missing?’

‘I’ve already told the police everything I know.’ His head didn’t move from the now darkened television.

‘I am aware you’ve already given a statement; I wanted to go over some of the details with you.’

Carsley didn’t say anything. It was as if Ridpath wasn’t there.

‘What happened on the morning of your son’s disappearance?’

For the first time, the man’s head swivelled slowly round to acknowledge Ridpath’s presence. Then he looked across to Emily Parkinson.

‘Why is he asking me questions? I thought he worked for the coroner?’

‘He does. Detective Inspective Ridpath is seconded to the coroner from Greater Manchester Police.’

Carsley frowned. ‘Another boaby.’

‘What?’

‘Boaby. Polis. Policeman.’

Ridpath tried again. ‘Mr Carsley, could you answer my question? What happened the morning your son disappeared?’

‘It’s like I’ve told you lot again and again.’ The voice was a monotone, repeating a story he had told many times before. ‘That morning David and Daniel were watching the box, cartoons or something. David had got up first and Daniel later.’

‘Where were you?’

‘In bed, I was loused, hadn’t slept well.’

‘What happened next?’

‘I heard fighting. They were arguing over the remote. So I got out of bed, went downstairs and gave them both a clip round the ear. They soon stopped fighting, I can tell you. Then I went into the kitchen to make myself a cuppa and have a fag.’

‘What time was this?’

‘Around eleven o’clock. I made the kids something to eat…’

‘What was it?’

‘Beans on toast.’ He paused for a moment as if remembering something, his eyes staring at nothing. ‘David loved his beans on toast.’ Then he focused again, turning back to Ridpath. ‘Afterwards, Daniel asked if he could go to the park. I said yes as long as he took his brother. They’d been cooped up for so long during lockdown, it was time for them to go out and get some fresh air.’

‘So they went to the park?’

‘Daniel wasn’t too happy taking his little brother along, but he did.’

‘Did they go to the park often?’ asked Emily.

‘Not that often. But I thought it was a bonnie day and they couldn’t stay inside all the time, could they? The park is only five minutes away…’

‘Across a busy road?’

‘Yeah, but Daniel was used to it. He knew how to cross the road safely.’

‘What happened next?’

‘Well, about an hour later, Daniel came back to see if his

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