‘How come you weren’t with them when I arrived?’ Gina asked.
Devina’s smile disappeared. ‘They’ve been doing really well, from what I’ve observed. They’re an amazing, loving family, and I’d love nothing more than to eventually place little Isobel in their full-time care. I just popped to the car to make a few confidential calls. I didn’t want them hearing. Are you questioning something, DI Harte?’
‘No. I just wondered where you were when I arrived. I’m sorry. Things have just been strained. They’re all a little upset, and they could do with your support. Unfortunately the children overheard me updating Luke and Cathy. They now know about Deborah.’
‘Oh no. Poor kids. I’d best get back in there,’ said Devina. ‘Keep me updated, inspector.’
Thirty-Six
The main entrance was bustling with suspects who were being checked in. She recognised the short, stout woman who was swearing loudly at the front of the queue as being from the estate nearby. She was one of their regular shoplifters. An officer passed with a staggering male in his late forties and escorted him towards the cells. The shoplifter knocked the mini Christmas tree off the desk as she turned to watch the drunken male. It was clearly December.
Gina shoved past the desk, picking up the tree as she passed, and nodded at Nick, who was calmly dealing with the swearing woman. She headed along the corridor, past the main office, then past her own, until she reached the incident room. Wyre was speaking to someone on the phone while doodling. Gina leaned over. Amongst her scrawl were several doodles of cubes. Wyre ended the call and turned to face Gina. ‘I found something. It may be something, it may be nothing.’ Wyre grinned as she swivelled back towards her computer screen.
O’Connor yawned and walked towards the kitchenette. ‘Sorry to call you in on your day off,’ Gina said.
‘No worries, boss. I will confess to being asleep on the sofa when the call was received. Anyway, we did the interviews like you asked. I’m just going to grab another coffee. Do you want one?’
‘No, I’m good, thanks.’
Gina leaned in and watched Wyre open the early case notes on the screen.
‘Do you remember Adele Sutter? You interviewed her when Deborah Jenkins first disappeared.’
Gina frowned and then looked back. ‘Parent. Knew Deborah from the school run. She had a girl the same age. I looked over the notes a couple of days ago. Was that her calling in?’
‘No. That was Briggs. He said to have all reports typed up and on the system ASAP.’ Wyre placed her chewed-up pen on the desk.
‘What happened with this Adele Sutter then?’
Wyre scrolled down the interview notes. ‘A man wearing a hoodie was seen at the school a handful of times as far back as September, when the new term started. I know you tried to locate this person but the attempts were to no avail. He never turned up again.’
‘Maybe he had no reason to turn up again after Deborah’s disappearance,’ said Gina. ‘That’s what we thought at the time anyway. We had appeals to locate him, but nothing came of it.’ Gina looked at the incident board. A hooded figure outside the Jenkinses’ home, spying on them from afar. A hooded figure tried to break into Mr Jenkins’ house. Could it really be the same person that had been hanging around back then, at the school? The chances were slim and it really wasn’t much to go on. ‘Don’t a lot of people wear hoodies this time of the year?’ Gina stood in silence as she stared at the board. ‘It might be a long shot, but we should run this scenario again. Maybe she was being stalked. Maybe this person knew of Deborah’s work patterns. Maybe he waited for her to finish and relished the fact that she left late, alone, in the stormy darkness. Maybe this particular hooded figure took her and still has her.’
Gina walked over to the incident board and wrote the words ‘small white van’ and a question mark under Nelson’s name. ‘We went back to her workplace earlier and Nelson mentioned that he thought a white van passed him when he left that evening. This is something he didn’t think to tell us the first time round. Maybe our hooded person has a van? We have traces of red diesel on the baby’s blanket, so a van would tie in there. O’Connor is looking into local farms, and we have to consider this a likely scenario. We barely have a thread to go on, but it sounds plausible. Maybe this hooded figure is the baby’s father? Maybe he’s seething with jealousy, thinking that Luke might end up with the baby. But why did he abandon the baby, if that’s the case?’ Gina began pacing the room. ‘Unless the other night wasn’t an attempted break-in…’
Gina turned back to the incident board, wrote ‘hooded figure’ and circled it. Underneath she referenced Adele Sutter, Luke Jenkins’ attempted break-in and the man watching from the wall. She also drew an arrow with a question mark above it, leading from the hooded figure to the baby’s father. ‘We should warn Luke to keep all his doors locked and to contact us at any time should he need to. Will you call him? He has my number. Tell him to use it, no matter what the time.’
‘Will do, ma’am,’ Wyre replied as she picked up the phone.
‘How did the interviews go?’
‘As well as expected. Bosko only just left as you arrived back. O’Connor and I will get the reports typed up as soon as. I’ll let you know when they’re there to read. In a nutshell, there’s nothing new to add. Nelson just confirmed what he said about the van, only this time, he claimed he was certain he saw a van. He said that after we searched his flat back then, he remembered about the van. He thought we’d hassle him more if he said something, accuse him of hiding things and wrongfully charge him or something. As you’ll see from the notes, I think he was just scared of being fitted up. The others had nothing much to report. Their stories haven’t changed and I’m satisfied at how they come across. Also, no connection between Avery and any of Deborah’s work colleagues.’
Gina wandered back to her own office. She couldn’t face hearing anything from the Jenkins household that evening after the way she’d left them. She pulled her phone out of her pocket but there were no new messages. She opened Briggs’s text, and before she knew it, she’d replied. She looked at her watch and grabbed her laptop so that she could continue working from home later. Her phone beeped. A rush of blood travelled through her head as she read the message.
See you at mine in a while.
Thirty-Seven
The dark, snaking roads led to a bridge over the carriageway then onto Briggs’s road. The car bumped over the potholes until it finally settled on the flat. Gina steered tightly into the only available parking space and got out of the car. There were only a couple of lights on in the row of small terraced houses, and only a few street lamps lit the way. Her heart began to flutter again. What was she doing? What was it about Briggs?
She followed the thin footpath towards his house. She’d only ever popped by once before, to drop some reports off to him on her way home. She remembered his home seeming warm and cosy. He’d had a wood burner on the go and he’d made her a warm milky coffee.
His dog barked as she approached the gate. She followed the small path down the side of the house, feeling along the wall as the lamplight disappeared. She grabbed her phone from her pocket and used it to light the way. As she turned into the back garden, a security light came on. Worms glistened on the path below. Her stomach turned as she carefully stepped over them. She’d hated worms ever since one of the boys at school had thrown one at her.
The dog continued barking and began scrabbling against the back door. ‘Jessie, it’s okay, girl. It’s just Gina,’ Briggs said.