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

daughter and her grandchild.

The manager was explaining in tortuous detail. ‘The doors open at precisely 9.45 a.m. and the first film today was 10.15 on the dot. We’ve only just reopened after lockdown so there’s not a lot of new films – that’s why we’re reshowing some golden oldies. The new generation have never seen the Harry Potters or the Lord of the Rings and they are surprisingly popular.’

Claire Trent pointed to the screen, where a woman and a kid were standing in front of a glass barrier. ‘So these are the customers this morning?’

‘The two monitors on the right are walk-ins. The monitor on the left is for pre-bookings. They can pick up their tickets at this cashier. What are you looking for?’

The three detectives looked at each other.

‘We don’t know,’ answered Ridpath.

Turnbull coughed from the back.

Ridpath ignored him, remembering the criminal profiler’s description. ‘Perhaps a single white male, aged over thirty?’

The images continued to flash on the screen as customer after customer stepped forward and chose their seats.

‘Shouldn’t be too many of those, but you’d be surprised how much the Harry Potters and the Lord of the Rings cross the generations.’

A single man came forward and selected a seat, paying in cash.

‘Can you freeze it here?’ ordered Ridpath.

The manager stopped the picture.

Ridpath leant in closer. Was this him?

‘I can print out the image if you want. We’ve got a video printer as part of the kit,’ the manager said proudly.

Ridpath nodded.

The other screens carried on rolling as the sound of the video printer echoed through the small viewing booth.

‘Stop. Stop it now.’

Emily Parkinson was pointing to the screen. ‘I know this man.’

Chapter 91

They sat down to the meal he cooked.

The boy had woken up ten minutes earlier, confused, not knowing where he was or how he had got there.

The wonders of modern drugs.

He explained that the boy had fallen ill and he had brought him home. They would just have something to eat and then he would take the boy back to his parents.

‘I don’t have any parents. I have a mum, though.’

‘Same as me. I have a mother too.’ He pointed to the woman sat watching the television.

‘Can I go home now?’

‘Let’s eat first and then I’ll take you home.’

‘Mum will be worried about me.’

‘She won’t. I rang her to let her know where you are and that I’ll bring you home after we’ve eaten. Aren’t you hungry?’

The boy nodded but then said, ‘It’s my birthday. We were supposed to see Harry Potter and then eat some cake and ice cream. Mum promised.’

‘Of course, you will. She’s arranged it all. But you have to eat your birthday lunch first and then you can go.’

‘All of it?’

‘Every last spoonful.’ He rolled the spaghetti around his fork. ‘See, this is how you do it.’

‘I know, Mum showed me.’ The boy then swirled some spaghetti and sucked it up through his lips, trailing bolognese sauce everywhere.

The man took his handkerchief and wiped the boy’s mouth, saying, ‘You are a mucky pup.’

The boy ate another three spoonfuls, ingesting the drug the man had sprinkled on top with the parmesan cheese.

For a moment he stopped and stared at the woman sitting in the chair. ‘Why doesn’t your mum move?’

‘Because she’s dead,’ answered the man truthfully.

Chapter 92

‘What?’

Both Claire Trent and Ridpath spoke at the same time.

‘I know who it is. I interviewed him when I was checking out the CCTV. He’s the owner of the convenience store close to the park.’

‘Are you sure?’

Emily Parkinson stared at the screen again. ‘Certain. David Carsley was standing outside his shop on the footage before he was kidnapped. I’ve got his name somewhere.’ She reached into her jacket, pulling out her notebook. ‘Here it is. Matthew Oram. That was his name.’

‘He’s buying tickets for the same cinema as our missing boy. Screen Two.’

‘The toilet where the boy was abducted, how do you get to it?’

‘The only way is through the cinema. Funny, there’s a door at the bottom of the steps. The alarm went off this morning.’

Ridpath was on his phone in a flash. ‘Chrissy, we need an address immediately. Matthew Oram, we know he owns a convenience store in Wythenshawe.’

‘No problem.’ Ridpath heard the tap of computer keys. ‘It’s not a common name. I’ll check the electoral register. Yeah, here we are. There’s just one listed. He lives in a house not far from the park in Sharston. It’s 168, Winman Street. There are only two registered occupants, himself and a woman, Marjory Oram. Could be his wife or his mother.’

‘It’s the same address he gave me,’ said Emily Parkinson.

‘Paul, get onto the Police Tactical Unit, I want a team ready to go into that house in twenty minutes.’

‘On it, Claire.’ Turnbull seemed animated at last, immediately diving for his phone and striding out into the lobby.

‘What about the shop? He might be there.’

‘Ridpath, go and check it out. Take Emily and a squad car with you.’

Turnbull was back. ‘The PTU is set and on its way, ready to go on your orders, boss.’

‘Good, Paul, you’re with me. I want to get this bastard.’

They all strode out into the lobby. Ridpath shouted, ‘Won’t be a moment.’

He ran to the staff room and stuck his head around the door. Mrs Challinor was sitting in the corner with her daughter’s head resting on her shoulder, gently smoothing Sarah’s hair as she sobbed. At their feet, Amy played with what remained of the popcorn.

‘We’ve got a lead to where he could be. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.’

Mrs Challinor lifted her head. ‘Thank you, Ridpath.’

In the lobby, Molly Wright came out of the shadows and strode directly towards Claire Trent.

‘Claire, can you tell me what’s going on?’

‘No. You shouldn’t be here. This cinema is cordoned off.’

‘Don’t be like that, Claire, tell me what’s going on.’

Claire Trent stared at her for a second and then spoke directly to the sergeant at the door. ‘Get rid of her. She shouldn’t be in here.’

The sergeant took the reporter’s