‘True. It’ll be interesting to hear what she finds out.’
Sharp waited while Barnes hurried towards his desk and nodded at the two senior officers. ‘Did either of you get the impression the marriage was in trouble when you were over there on Saturday?’
‘I didn’t pick up on anything,’ said Barnes. ‘I had a quick look around upstairs after I’d finished in the guest room, but everything seemed normal. They’re sharing a bedroom, at least.’
‘And there were family photographs everywhere,’ said Kay. ‘Annette’s demeanour was certainly one of a worried wife and mother when we questioned her. I didn’t get the impression that she got involved in the business side of things, though.’
‘There were some flyers and brochures for the local gym and a ladies’ badminton group on the kitchen table,’ said Barnes. ‘As well as a letter that had been opened from a local private school. I imagine Alice would have been starting there within a couple of weeks.’
The room fell silent at his words, and he lowered his eyes.
Sharp cleared his throat. ‘As you say, Ian – it all points to a normal family life at the moment. We’ll see what Carys comes back with later this morning and if that has any bearing on the situation, then let me know.’
‘Will do, guv,’ said Kay. She took the sheaf of papers he held out to her and ran her eyes down the lines of text.
The evening shift had progressed without incident or breakthrough in the case, and she clenched her jaw at the thought of Alice spending a third night without her mother.
‘I’m going to head off, but phone me if you need me,’ said Sharp. He patted her arm. ‘Someone out there knows where she is. Don’t give up hope.’
He raised his hand in farewell to Gavin, who held a phone to his ear, engrossed in conversation.
Kay watched the detective chief inspector leave, and then turned her focus to her team.
‘All right,’ she said, as Gavin ended his call and wandered over, ‘with Carys and Laura following up their enquiry with Melissa Lampton, we’ll keep our focus on the river. Barnes – could you give the local stations at Gillingham and Sheerness a call to find out if there have been any sightings of Alice near the estuary? The all ports alert has been live since Saturday morning, but those things are never easy to police with this much coastline to monitor.’
‘Will do.’
‘Gavin – what’s the latest from your side?’
The detective constable checked his watch. ‘The boat yard at Allington reopens at eight-thirty so I’ll give them a call. They should’ve been back from their weekend jaunt last night, but I didn’t hear from them.’
‘Keep me posted on that,’ said Kay. ‘I can only presume that they don’t take work mobile phones with them when they go away.’
Gavin cocked an eyebrow. ‘That would explain why their business looks like it’s on its last legs.’
Kay ran through the rest of the tasks she needed to delegate, then dismissed the team and turned to switch on her computer.
As Sharp’s deputy SIO, she balanced a precarious amount of management tasks on top of leading the investigation with him. She contemplated the list of emails that had multiplied since leaving the incident room the previous night, and tried to focus on what she needed to do from a political as well as investigative angle.
It would do her no good if she accidentally caused friction amongst other senior detectives by seeking additional resources from an already stretched department or team.
A phone rang in the background, and her subconscious recognised Gavin’s voice talking in low tones as he answered it. All around her, the sound of fingers on keyboards, urgent conversations and calls being answered filled the air with a constant hum of activity.
‘Guv!’
She turned as the detective constable shoved his way between two abandoned chairs and hurried towards her.
‘What’s up?’
‘That was the boatyard at Allington – they haven’t got any record of a boat being hired in the name of Greg Victor––’
‘Damn it––’
‘But they did have one rented in the name of Robert Victor.’
‘What?’
‘He made the booking a week ago, but didn’t show up to collect it on Friday night.’
Kay frowned, and ran her hand through her hair. ‘Why on earth would Greg Victor hire one boat in his name, and another in his brother’s name?’
‘The lock at Allington has to be operated by a lock-keeper,’ said Gavin. ‘If Greg didn’t know what time he’d be arriving there on Saturday, he might not have been able to phone ahead to have the lock opened. Robert might have hired the second boat, given that he was meant to be back on Saturday. Perhaps he was going to surprise his daughter. We can ask him when we speak to him.’
‘Did the boat hire company at Allington confirm the phone number that was used to place the booking, or the bank card details?’ said Barnes, scratching the fine stubble on his jaw.
‘Yes. Exactly the same as the ones used to hire the first boat. In both instances, it was Greg’s.’
‘If he was using his own phone number and card details then, why on earth book it in his brother’s name?’
Kay ran a hand through her hair. ‘We’re going around in bloody circles.’
Eighteen
Carys squinted up at the Georgian façade of the stone-clad merchant’s house, and slammed shut the car door.
A blue plaque on the wall stated that the building had once housed a semi-famous writer for all of seven days, and she automatically checked over her shoulder. There were no tourists – yet – and she relaxed a little in the knowledge that their visit to Robert Victor’s place of work would go unnoticed.
Laura twisted her hair into a low ponytail. Out of uniform, the police constable wore a smart black trouser suit similar to that Carys was wearing, and exuded a new level of confidence beside the detective constable.
‘What do you need me to do?’ she said.
‘We’ll head in and introduce ourselves,’ said Carys, and checked her watch. ‘It’s gone nine o’clock, so everybody should be in by now. I want to concentrate on Melissa Lampton this morning, though – none of the other statements raised a flag. If you take the notes, I’ll lead the questions, but if we get to the end of the interview and you think I’ve left out something, then jump in. I’m not the sort of person who worries about her ego, and we still need to find a five-year-old missing girl. Ready?’
Laura nodded, and locked the car.
Carys hurried up a flight of three stone steps, and pushed against one of two brightly painted wooden double doors. She stepped into a wide reception area, the floor covered with a burgundy coloured carpet that soaked up the sound of her footsteps.
Off to her left, an elongated reception desk curved beneath an oak bannister. Large photographs hung on the walls, each depicting a scenic view across a vineyard at dusk or first thing in the morning, with mist clinging to ghostly wooden and wire framework.
‘Can I help you?’
Carys crossed the carpet to the receptionist, who had risen from her chair and was poised with a pen in her hand, her brow creased.
‘You’re the police, yes?’
‘That’s right.’ She held out her warrant card and introduced Laura. ‘Sorry, you are?’
‘Sharon Eastman.’
Carys recalled the name from the statements taken over the course of the weekend. ‘We’d like to speak with Melissa Lampton, please.’
‘Do you have an appointment?’
‘No, but given the nature of the situation, I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’
‘Of course.’ Sharon lowered her gaze and picked up a phone. ‘Take a seat, I’m sure she won’t be a minute.’
Laura crossed to a pair of sofas on the other side of the reception area that had been placed either side of an ornate fireplace.
A vase containing dried flowers had been arranged in the hearth, and Carys wondered what
the building would have looked like when it was once a family home.
She reached out for one of the trade magazines that had been left on a table next to one of the sofas and flicked through it, trying to temper her impatience.
Fifteen minutes later, she was pacing the carpet while Laura stared through the window to the street beyond, nibbling at a fingernail as she watched the passing traffic.
‘I’m so sorry to have kept you.’
Carys turned at the voice to see a woman in a blue blouse and navy skirt hurrying down the staircase towards them, her brown hair cut into a severe bob that brushed against her cheeks.
The woman held out her hand as she approached.
‘Melissa Lampton.’
Older than she had expected, Melissa carried an air of efficiency that soon saw both police officers whisked up the staircase and shown into a meeting room at the back of the building.
Any noise from the street was blocked out as Robert Victor’s personal assistant closed the door and gestured to the oval table in the middle of the room.
‘Take a seat. Would you like tea, coffee – water, perhaps?’
‘No, thanks.’
‘Right.’ Melissa twisted the ring on her right hand. ‘What did you want to see me about?’
‘Please, take a seat.’
Carys waited until the woman had perched on a chair to her left, and made sure Laura was ready to take notes.
‘Have you heard from Robert Victor again since you spoke to him on Thursday?’
Melissa shook her head. ‘Not a word. Mind you, the reception isn’t great in that region.’ She smiled. ‘They might make fabulous wine, but their mobile signal leaves a lot to be desired.’
‘I believe we’re waiting for a copy of his itinerary.’
The PA raised her hands. ‘I know, and I’m so sorry – when we got in this morning, it turned out our intranet was down. We can’t access any of our work at the moment. The phones only got reconnected half an hour ago.’
‘Do you have a printed copy available?’
‘No, I’m sorry – we have a policy here that nothing gets printed out unless it’s absolutely essential.’ Melissa’s mouth twisted. ‘I know they tell us it’s all about the planet, but I can’t help feeling sometimes it’s just a cost-saving exercise.’
‘All right, can you recall what the hire car arrangements were for his trip?’
‘Um… I know he wanted something special so he could travel in comfort. He was driving himself this time. Occasionally, we’ll book a driver for him as well – especially if he’s planning to see several vineyards across a wide area and do tastings. This time he was on his own, though.’
‘Where did he fly to?’
‘Paris. He would have collected the car from there, too.’
‘Do you have the name of the hire company, and perhaps some phone details?’
‘I’ve got one of their business cards stuck to my computer screen. Hang on – I’ll get it for you.’
Carys exhaled as the door closed behind Melissa, and rolled her eyes. ‘Good grief. This is hard work.’
Laura was biting her lip, her eyes amused. ‘Some people have no sense of urgency, do they, ma’am?’
‘It makes you wonder.’
The door opened, and Melissa hurried into the room. She held out a dog-eared business card to Carys.
‘That’s them. We’ve used them for the past two years.’
‘Any problems?’
‘No. They’re one of the better ones.’
Carys passed the card to Laura and turned her attention back to Melissa. ‘What time did you speak to Robert on Thursday?’
The woman frowned. ‘About half past four, I seem to recall.’
‘What did you talk about?’
‘He wanted some specialised information emailed across so that he could share it with a potential client that afternoon.’ Melissa shrugged. ‘We have our standard sales brochures and Robert always takes those with him while travelling, but if he hears about an opportunity not covered by those, we can send the information over. Most of our people who travel carry tablet computers with them so they can show the clients what we’re capable of without having to cart around lots of documentation.’
‘More cost savings?’ said Carys.
Red splotches appeared on Melissa’s cheeks. ‘I suppose so, yes.’
‘Have you spoken to him since Thursday?’
Melissa shook her head. ‘No – there was no need. He was meant to be back here this morning. We’ve got a meeting with a supplier at two o’clock.’
‘What do you mean? Haven’t you seen him?’
‘No. No-one has. We’ve been trying to phone him since the lines were reconnected,’ she said, confusion sweeping across her features. ‘There’s no answer on his mobile number – it keeps going to voicemail.’
Nineteen
Kay checked her notes, and then scrawled an update on the whiteboard in large block capitals that could be read at a distance, and underlined words for emphasis where required.
She re-capped the pen and took a step back, taking in the bullet points and angles of enquiry that were beginning to resemble a spider’s web of information.
In the centre of the board, a photograph of Alice served as a reminder to everyone present about what was at stake.
And everyone wanted to be on shift when the little girl was found safe and well.
Kay swallowed. She wouldn’t contemplate the alternative – not until she knew for sure.
She paused as the clatter of a helicopter overhead shook the windows, a reminder that her airborne colleagues were doing all they could to locate Alice.
She sifted through the paperwork in her hand, reading through the latest reports from dog search teams, from Harry Davis in his role as LPSM, and from other uniformed police officers who were coordinating wider search areas and liaising with eager members of the public requiring careful supervision.
She bit her lip. If she became overwhelmed, she wouldn’t be able to lead her team.
Her shoulders sagged at the sight of the two women who walked towards her.
A fourteen-hour shift and the stress of Alice’s disappearance had taken their toll on Carys and Laura, who both looked exhausted.
Carys rubbed at tired eyes as she approached, but managed a small smile. ‘Morning, guv.’
‘Morning. How did you get on?’
‘Melissa Lampton confirmed she hasn’t spoken to Robert Victor since Thursday afternoon, same as her original statement. But we did get this.’ She held up the business card for the car hire company. ‘I’ll give them a call this morning – Melissa said Robert hired a luxury model, so it must’ve had a GPS tracker fitted to it for security purposes. Hopefully we’ll be able to locate him and get in touch.’
‘Tell you what,’ said Kay. ‘Give that to me and I’ll have one of the others make the phone call. You two look shattered, and you need to rest.’
‘But, guv––’ said Laura.
‘That’s my final word.’ Kay smiled to soften the order. ‘You’re no good to me if you’re tired, and you need to get home safely yet. What’s it been, sixteen hours since you last slept?’
Carys mumbled a reply, then shrugged.
‘Did you get anything else from Robert’s PA?’ said Kay.
‘Only that their internet and phone lines have been down all weekend by the sounds of it,’ said the detective constable. ‘Which explains why we haven’t received a copy of his itinerary.’
‘What are your thoughts? Do you think he’s been delayed somewhere?’
‘Maybe he’s having an affair,’ said Laura. She shrugged, then blushed under Kay’s scrutiny. ‘I mean, he wouldn’t be keen to get in touch with us if it meant breaking up his marriage.’
‘Good point,’ said Carys. ‘But surely he would’ve seen the news? Alice’s photograph has been on the telly up and down the country since yesterday morning, and the radio stations have been broadcasting the story ab
out her disappearance since Saturday night.’
Dread spiked Kay’s heart rate as an idea began to form.
She wandered across to the whiteboard, cutting off her colleagues in mid-sentence with a slight shake of her head, and stood before the swirls of handwriting – hers, Sharp’s, Barnes’s – that had been added as their enquiries grew and splintered into different avenues.
A dead man.
A kidnapped five-year-old girl.
And, underpinning it all, was the thought that she had no suspect – and no motive.
‘Guv!’
Barnes’s voice cut across the white noise and hum of conversation all around her.
‘Who is it?’
‘Harriet. Fingerprint results are in.’
‘Ask her to send them across and we’ll get someone to run it through the system to corroborate it’s Greg Victor.’
‘It’s not that, guv – they’ve already had someone do that.’
‘What’s the problem, then?’
‘Our victim isn’t Greg Victor,’ said Barnes. ‘It’s his brother. It’s Robert Victor.’
Twenty
Kay snatched the phone from Barnes.
‘Harriet? How sure are you?’
‘We’ve spoken with Lucas, and I’m confident we’re within ninety per cent accuracy,’ said the CSI lead. ‘We got a full print on the door frame leading down into the cabin of the boat, and a partial under the window next to the door. We just had someone put our results through the system and Robert’s name came up as a match.’
‘Thanks, Harriet.’
Kay handed the phone back to Barnes, who murmured a response to the CSI lead before hanging up.
‘Why is Robert Victor in our database?’
‘He had a previous conviction for drink driving ten years ago,’ said Barnes, his eyes scanning the screen. ‘He received a fine and was banned from driving for a while, but no custodial sentence.’
‘Sharp’s office. Now. Carys, grab Gavin and meet us in there. Laura – write up your report and notes from this morning’s conversation with Melissa Lampton please, and ask Debbie to phone the car hire company. After that, head home and we’ll see you back here at seven o’clock tonight.’
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