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CHAPTER 7

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‘Susan Whitlock?’

‘Yes.’

‘DS Peter Gayle. This is PC Evans. Jill. Can we come in?’

‘Of course.’ She stepped back. ‘This is about Rosie, yes?’

‘That’s right.’

‘Jason’s in the bath, I’m afraid,’ the willowy brunette said as she led them into the wide hallway. ‘Jason,’ she called. ‘The police are here, darling.’

‘I’ll be down shortly.’

Pete heard the faint slosh of water from upstairs.

‘That’s all right,’ he said to Susan. ‘We can wait.’

‘Would you like something to drink in the meantime? Tea? Coffee?’

‘Tea would be excellent. Thanks.’

‘So, have you started the search yet?’ she asked.

‘We’ll get going on that in the morning. No sense stumbling about in the dark, destroying evidence.’

‘Oh.’ She paused, unsure whether to lead them into the kitchen or the sitting room. ‘I thought . . . Well, that little boy in Scotland, they were out looking straight away, weren’t they? And that little girl in Wales, a year or so before.’

‘Different circumstances.’ Pete raised a hand towards the kitchen and she led them through.

‘How do you mean?’

‘Well, Rosie’s older, for one thing. She’s not likely to have run off or got lost. And her family situation – Alistair’s job, for instance – brings other possibilities. Talking of which, there are no issues that you’re aware of, are there? People they’ve had a problem with? No one who would want to hurt them?’

‘No.’ She flicked the kettle on and set about making drinks.

‘What can you tell us about Rosie herself? How does she get on with her dad? With Jason? With you and her mum?’

‘Oh, she’s fine. She hasn’t got to the rebellious stage yet. Wait a minute . . .’ She looked up from what she was doing. ‘What do you mean – how does she get on with Al and Jason? You don’t think . . . ?’

‘We don’t think anything yet. We’re gathering information and we have to look at all possibilities, however unlikely or unsavoury, if only to eliminate them.’

‘Well, you can eliminate that for a start. Al would never . . . And Jason – he’s very tactile, very huggy, but that’s just his way. There’s nothing sexual about it. Trust me – I’m his wife.’

Pete heard heavy footsteps coming quickly down the stairs.

‘What do you mean by that?’ Jill asked.

‘Nothing. Just . . . We have a normal sex life, he’s not a pervert, that’s all.’

‘Who, me?’ Jason Whitlock asked from the doorway. ‘Why are we discussing my sexual proclivities, may I ask?’

‘For elimination purposes,’ Pete told him.

‘Ah. Well, that’s all right then. I think. Elimination from what, exactly?’

‘From the possibility that you were involved in what happened to Rosie,’ his wife told him.

‘Of course I wasn’t! Al said it happened this morning, around eight-fifteen, yes? Well, at eight-fifteen I was at work. I had a call to make, to California. I left here about seven-thirty.’

‘And can anyone verify that?’

‘I don’t know. I often see George, next door, on the way out. Didn’t notice him this morning, though. And there wouldn’t be anyone else at Stone’s at that time of day unless there was a delivery scheduled.’

Pete grunted. Bars were not known for being overpopulated at eight in the morning but he would still have to verify Jason’s story. ‘We’ll need details of who you called and when.’ He would also check on what car Jason drove and see if it could be spotted on CCTV or if it had been seen near the bar that morning. ‘Is there anyone either of you can think of that might have been involved in Rosie’s abduction?’

‘No.’ Jason glanced at his wife, who shook her head. ‘Al’s not the type to make enemies like that. And Jess is a primary school teacher, for God’s sake. Who’s she going to piss off enough to make them abduct her daughter?’

‘You don’t have children?’ Jill asked.

Pete glanced at her as the couple both said, ‘No.’

‘Then, could this be a revenge attack one step removed? Has either of you “pissed anyone off enough” for them to abduct your niece?’

She focused on Jason as she asked the question, but it was Susan who said firmly, ‘No! Certainly not.’

Pete picked up on this. ‘Jason? No disgruntled creditors, people you’ve let down or annoyed enough for them to want payback?’

Jason shook his head. ‘Not that I can think of.’

‘Well, if you do think of anything, let me know right away, yes? We don’t know where Rosie is or what she’s going through, so the sooner we can find her, the better.’

‘Of course.’

‘And I’ll need the details of that call you were making this morning.’ Pete turned over the page of his notebook and handed it over, with his pen.

*

Pete watched Annie running towards her friends at the bus stop and felt suddenly reluctant to let them out of his sight. Danger was stalking these streets. Tommy was gone, so was Rosie Whitlock and there was the Jane Doe, down by the river. The thought of losing Annie too was more than he could bear. He watched as she merged into the cluster of uniformed girls and boys on the grass behind the shelter, waiting until he could no longer see her in the crowd, then drew a long, shuddering breath and turned away. Much as he would have liked to, he couldn’t stay here until the bus came.

As understandable as it was for a father to want to protect his little girl, it wouldn’t be good for her, or for him. Or for Rosie Whitlock.

By the time he got to Risingbrook School, the rest of the team were already on-site and the road, which would be near deserted in another hour, was beginning to get busy. He pulled up behind a patrol car and climbed out. Jane was across the road, talking to a mother who had just sent her daughter into the school with a couple of others. She waved to him without pausing in her conversation. He crossed towards her and waited a few feet away until the woman stepped away and Jane turned towards him.

‘How’s it going?’

‘Still quiet, yet. And early. Another ten minutes to when Rosie was dropped off.’

An Audi saloon turned into the top of the road as a BMW pulled up across from them. Pete crossed the road. A woman in her early thirties, long blonde hair hanging loose over her shoulders, looked up as he approached.

Pete flashed his badge. ‘DS Gayle. Can I have a moment of your time, please?’

‘What’s this about?’

‘A young girl went missing here yesterday morning. We’re checking to see if anyone saw anything unusual or out of place.’

‘Missing? You mean she was abducted?’

‘We’re not sure at this point.’

‘Well, I don’t think I saw anything unusual here yesterday. It was just a normal morning. Sarah?’

‘Nor me. I met Angie and Richard at the gates and we went in together. You saw us.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Richard said later that he hadn’t seen Rosie all day. Is that who’s gone missing?’

‘Rosie?’ Pete countered, seeking confirmation.

‘Rosie Whitlock.’

Pete pursed his lips. This was going to be all over the school by lunch-time, whether he announced it or not. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it is.’

‘Oh my God! I take history and maths with her.’ The young girl’s eyes went wide. ‘What happened?’

‘We don’t know yet, but myself and another officer will be coming into school later to speak to everyone.’

‘Can I go in now?’

Pete nodded.

‘Yes, but be careful,’ the mother said. ‘I’ll pick you up later, as usual. Don’t come out of the gates until you see me, all right?’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘Love you.’

‘You too.’ The girl leaned over the seat to give her mother a quick peck on the cheek, then climbed out and ran across the road, her satchel clutched to her chest.

‘You were here at the same time yesterday?’ Pete asked.

‘Yes.’ The woman checked her watch. ‘Pretty much spot-on. I drop Sarah off on my way to work.’

‘I see. And where’s that, Mrs . . . ?’

‘Taylor. Jeanette. I work in Exmouth, at Diehl and Slaughter, solicitors.’

‘Oh, you’re a lawyer?’

‘No, no,’ she laughed. ‘I’m the receptionist.’

‘Ah. And you didn’t, perhaps, see a girl in school uniform walking away from the school yesterday morning?’

She shook her head. ‘No.’

‘OK. Well, thanks for your time, Mrs Taylor.’ He stepped back as she pulled away. Turning around, he saw Jane’s Audi moving away, too, the two cars purring off in opposite directions. Up and down the street, other officers, some in uniform, others not, were approaching vehicles as they stopped or pulling over those that looked to be driving straight past. He saw Dick Feeney, in his customary grey suit, flag down a black VW Golf and lean down to the passenger window as Dave Miles straightened up from a bright blue Porsche and waved it on.

Five months ago, these same things would have been happening outside the swimming pool. Cars and pedestrians being stopped. Questioned. Asked if they’d seen anything relevant to the disappearance of a young boy. Signs would have been put up, asking any witnesses who hadn’t been questioned to come forward. The difference was that another crew had been handling that case. Pete and his team had been specifically excluded, in accordance with standard protocol.

And the other difference, he thought, was that they would find Rosie Whitlock. Her parents would not go through the protracted hell that he, Lou and Annie were suffering. He would not allow it.

Nowhere to Run

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