When the Evil Waits by M Lee (i want to read a book .txt) 📗

failure.

The meeting began with Claire Trent taking the lead.

‘Harry, what do you have on the car?’

‘Not a lot, boss. Working with Reynolds, we’ve narrowed it down to one model. A Vauxhall Corsa manufactured between 2014 and 2019. This is one of the most popular models of saloons in the UK. There were 279,000 sold during this period. I’m still trying to find out how many in the North West.’

‘It’s too wide, can you narrow it further by version or year?’

Harry Makepeace shook his head. ‘The pictures aren’t good enough, boss, and we can’t see the number plate on either of the CCTV images. It’s the best we can do.’

‘Right, Harry, keep going.’

‘You want me to start building a database of the owners?’

‘Yes, and cross-reference it against the Register of Paedophiles. Maybe we’ll get lucky.’

‘And if we don’t?’

‘You’ll have to start contacting each owner individually, asking what they were doing on those dates.’

‘We could end up being swamped, boss.’

‘Start with the North West.’

‘I’ll need help – there are too many people to call.’

Claire Trent ran her fingers through her hair. ‘I’ll find the resources.’

‘Maybe somebody with experience of running a contact tracing operation.’

‘Then don’t call Dido Harding,’ said a wag from the back.

Everybody laughed at the weak joke. Ridpath could feel the collective release of tension. As ever with the police, black humour lurked just beneath the surface of even the most serious meetings.

‘Thanks, Harry,’ Claire Trent summed up as the laughter died down. ‘Get started straight away.’

‘Yes, boss.’

Sarah Hampson coughed. ‘I think at this point I should let you know the nationals have doubled down on the story.’ She held up the front page of the Daily Mail. Two words in big, bold, black letters dominated everything.

MORE INCOMPETENCE

‘This is going to be the front page tomorrow morning and this time they are not speaking about the government but about us.’

‘Can’t we do anything to stop these headlines?’

‘Last time I looked it was a free press. We keep feeding them our point of view but when a narrative takes hold, it’s difficult to shake.’

‘Has the chief constable seen these, Sarah?’

‘Not yet, Claire.’

‘Anything we can do?’

Sarah Hampson shrugged her shoulders. ‘Hope and pray another big story happens overnight. If it doesn’t, this is what will run.’

‘Something for me to look forward to tomorrow. Julie, any news from the search close to the Water Park and Jackson’s Boat?’

‘Twenty-three bags of rubbish and seventeen used condoms but nothing else, boss. It’s been nearly three weeks.’

‘Thanks, Julie. And Alan, anything from Greater Manchester Transport?’

‘We won’t interview most of the commuters till tomorrow morning, boss. No point on a Sunday. But the security for the trams are not hopeful. It seems most travellers are pretty much zombies in the morning.’

‘Right, Alan, so nothing to report.’

Alan shook his head.

The mood in the meeting was even more deflated than at the beginning, if that was at all possible.

Claire Trent called on Paul Turnbull next.

‘We’ve been through all the witness statements one more time, concentrating on those who live on the route David Carsley potentially took from the park to the ATM. We even went out this afternoon to re-interview them. But it’s been three weeks now. People’s memories have become even more vague. A couple of things. There definitely was a man with a dog, an Alsatian. His name is Peter Davies. He went into the station this morning and owned up to being in the park on 21 July.’

‘Why didn’t he come forward earlier?’ asked Claire Trent.

‘He’s a lorry driver and went over to Poland on a job that afternoon. He has a watertight alibi for the time of the abduction. We’ve checked out footage of him at his depot in Sharston.’

‘Bring him in anyway. I want every possible lead or suspect shaken down. Nobody, I repeat, nobody is in the clear until I have reviewed their statements. You said a couple of things?’

‘We checked with the Procurator Fiscal in Scotland why Michael Carsley wasn’t charged with child abuse or domestic violence.’

‘And…?’

‘There wasn’t enough evidence of who was the perpetrator, him or his wife, so they let the case lapse, delivering a stern warning and placing both children under a care order.’

‘Why did nobody follow up?’

Turnbull shrugged. ‘The family had gone south to Manchester, so I guess they thought it was somebody else’s problem. One less issue to deal with.’

‘Right, Paul, keep going, there must be something we missed. Finally, Ridpath. You went to Liverpool today?’

‘He’s not still trying to link our case with the murder in Liverpool?’ Turnbull’s hand slammed hard on the desk. ‘Why are you indulging his fantasies, Claire? It’s a waste of our time.’

Just as Ridpath was about to speak, his phone rang. He looked at the screen and saw it was Mrs Challinor. What did she want? He wasn’t due to return to the Coroner’s Office until tomorrow. Was she trying to remind him? Not like her.

He answered, but before he could get any words out, she spoke.

‘My grandson, he’s gone missing.’

Chapter 82

‘What?’

‘My grandson, Ben, he’s gone missing.’

The whole of MIT was watching him, including Claire Trent.

‘How? When?’

‘My daughter took him to the cinema as a treat for his birthday. They were waiting for the film to start when he announced he wanted to pee. She pointed to the toilet and asked him to go while she stayed behind to look after his sister. He went and didn’t come back.’

‘When was this?’

‘About an hour ago. She’s frantically looking for him and has just called me.’

‘Right, let me get on it. Where is your daughter now?’

‘Still at the cinema. She doesn’t know what to do.’

For some unknown reason, Ridpath knew this was bad.

‘What is it, Ridpath?’ asked Claire Trent.

He held his hand up again to stop her speaking. ‘We’ll send a car to bring you here. I’ll go to your daughter now.’

‘What shall I do, Ridpath? I’m going to the cinema.’

‘No, stay where you are until the car arrives. What’s your daughter’s number?’

Ridpath reached into his pocket to write it down in