Читать книгу Little Girl Gone - Stephen Edger - Страница 11

Ray watched as Trent exited the patrol car and headed over to the Crime Scene Manager. Alex was staring at him from the back of the car, and although he could see the pain in her eyes, he turned away.

She needed comfort and support, but he didn’t trust himself to provide it. Maybe once upon a time it would have been easier, but not anymore. He wanted to reassure her: to tell her that he wouldn’t rest until Carol-Anne was back safe and sound. He knew if he went over there now and tried to empathize, he would allow his own anxiety and terror to seep through the cracks in his armour, and then he would be no good to anyone.

He had to remain strong for Carol-Anne, and if that was at the expense of Alex’s delicate emotions then so be it. He didn’t want to turn his back, but he didn’t have enough strength for both of them. Carol-Anne was his priority, and getting her home safe his only objective.

‘Can I have a cigarette?’ he asked, as DC Owen Hargrove approached.

Owen reached for the packet and opened the lid. ‘Thought you quit.’

Ray drew a cigarette from the packet and placed it between his lips. ‘I did.’ He leaned in as Owen held the lighter forward.

Taking a deep drag, Ray had forgotten how toxic that first inhale tasted. Like a mixture of antiseptic and faeces. He quickly exhaled and took a second pull, the endorphins beginning to bubble somewhere in his head. ‘Thanks.’

Owen squashed the lighter into the carton, and handed it to Ray. ‘Keep them. I get the impression that won’t be your last.’

Owen was giving him that look, a mixture of pity and relief that he wasn’t the one suffering the pain. Ray knew the look as he’d offered it to victims of crime on so many occasions, yet he’d never realized how tough it was to face. He could feel the lump growing in his throat, and took another drag on the cigarette. There would be a time for him to deal with the toll of the emotion and stress of the situation. Not yet.

Ray nodded his thanks. ‘Where are we with locating local security camera footage?’

‘No street cameras in the local area, and considering where the car park is – off a residential street – there are no local businesses with cameras pointed in this direction.’

‘What about that one?’ Ray asked, pointing at the tall pole directly behind the car park that he’d spotted on arrival.

Owen’s face contorted. ‘It points directly at the ticket machine, and the cars in the immediate vicinity, though that’s only about five or so of them. It was set up to capture anyone trying to steal from the machine. And the footage isn’t great. It isn’t a live stream, rather still images captured every ten seconds.’

‘Have you watched it?’

Owen nodded. ‘Alex can be seen approaching the machine, then leaving the shot, which is presumably when she turned the alarm off, and then returning to purchase her ticket.’

‘At least that proves she isn’t lying about what happened.’ He inhaled deeply, welcoming the burn in his throat. ‘And there are no cars or people seen entering or leaving the car park in that time?’

Owen shook his head. ‘It’s as good as useless, mate. It isn’t even in colour. I think the owners must have put it up more as a deterrent than to actually serve a purpose.’

‘Can I see it?’

‘Trent has instructed us not to share any information with you, unless she clears it first. You know how it is.’

Ray fixed him with a look, forcing eye contact. ‘Come on, Owen, what harm can viewing the footage do? Please?’

Owen returned the look, before finally relenting. ‘Okay, but it stays between the two of us. Trent can be a Rottweiler and I don’t want her on my arse.’

Ray remained where he was while Owen moved across to one of the SOCO team vans, returning a moment later with an iPad, holding it to his chest, and standing directly in front of Ray so nobody would see what they were doing.

Tapping the screen, Ray watched as Alex came into view, the shot captured at 14:47:20. She could be seen studying the sign above the machine, calculating how much she would need to pay. In the next image, Alex could be seen staring back at the vehicle, before disappearing in the next shot, as Owen had described, and then returning at 14:47:50. At 14:48:40, Alex was facing the car, and at 14:48:50, she was out of shot.

‘I want to watch it again,’ Ray said, discarding the cigarette and squashing it under foot.

‘Why?’ Owen asked. ‘I’ve watched it a dozen times, and there is nothing going on in the background. Just Alex and the machine.’

Ray glared until Owen tapped it again and the first shot appeared on the screen. The grainy image wasn’t ideal; and it was only because they knew the figure to be Alex that they could actually be certain it was her. Even if another figure had appeared in the background, there was no way they’d be able to identify who it was.

‘A two-minute window,’ Ray concluded when the footage once again stopped.

‘How do you figure that?’

‘At 14:47:20 she is looking at the machine, and she isn’t heading back to the car until 14:48:50.’

‘Yeah, but she moves away to switch off the alarm at 14:47:40, and is staring at the car a minute later, leaving a fifty-second window at best.’

‘Not if the culprit was already ducking down behind the car when Alex left. Let’s say for a moment that whoever took Carol-Anne had it all planned. Somehow they knew Alex would be here and would leave Carol-Anne in the car. It’s what, a twenty to thirty second walk to the machine from where she’s parked? Which would mean she first turned her back on the car at 14:46:50. If the culprit opened the door, and pulled Carol-Anne out, they could have been well away by the time Alex first turns back to look at the car at 14:47:30. Even if they were still crouching down by the car at that point, there’s still another minute to get away.’

‘And go where? Alex didn’t see anyone.’

‘Another vehicle more than likely. She didn’t look in every car. What if the perpetrator was already in the car park waiting for Alex to arrive? He or she could have returned to their car and waited until Alex wasn’t looking again, then driven off.’

‘You’re basing this on no evidence whatsoever.’

‘It’s like a magician’s trick: smoke and mirrors. With the heavy rain, condensation on the windscreen, a car park packed full of cars, and a mother under extreme stress, it’s the only explanation that fits.’

‘It doesn’t narrow down who took her or why.’ Owen quickly apologized for the remark, having briefly forgotten how involved Ray was. ‘I’d better get the iPad back to the van before anyone realizes it’s missing.’ Owen paused and squeezed Ray’s arm. ‘We’ll get her back, mate. You have to let us do what we do best.’

Ray wasn’t listening, his imagination already working through a list of suspects who would want to see him suffer such cruelty. He’d locked up his fair share of villains over the years, but none who would devise a revenge as complex as snatching a child from an open car park. Yet what else did that leave?

For now he needed answers from the only witness at the scene. Making his way to the patrol car, he climbed into the back, unable to bring himself to meet Alex’s eyes.

‘You said you looked away for thirty seconds at most.’

The confusion on Alex’s face revealed she hadn’t been expecting this to be his opening gambit. ‘It’s true.’

Ray shook his head, hating himself, yet unable to stop the words leaving his lips. ‘Thirty seconds from the car to the machine without looking at the car. Then twenty seconds initially until the alarm sounds, and then another fifty seconds buying your ticket. Almost two minutes where you weren’t watching our daughter.’

‘No, Ray, it couldn’t have been that long—’

‘I’ve seen the security footage! How could you be so reckless, Alex?’ He still couldn’t meet her gaze as he uttered the words, feeling her pain as much as his own.

‘I-I-I,’ she began, unable to string together the words needed to explain her actions.

‘I’m going to have you driven home,’ he continued, not prepared to listen to anything more she had to say; at least not yet. The pain burned deep in his chest, and to remain in her presence would only lead him to say something he would later regret.

‘I see you’re smoking again,’ she said bitterly, as if trying to strike back.

It was like waving a red rag at a bull. Turning, he glared at her, pointing his finger just inches from her face. ‘You have no right to judge me for anything right now.’

And with that, he climbed out, wanting to hug his wife and tell her everything would be okay, and equally wanting to berate her for losing their daughter. Lighting a second cigarette, he stalked off into the darkness.