by D. S. Butler
Dennis nodded but didn’t reply.
‘I have to ask you to come to us first with things like this. We’ll act on any genuine information we receive. If you leave us in the dark and try to sort things yourself, it won’t end well.’
Dennis gave him a twisted smile. ‘You’re new to these parts, aren’t you?’
‘Relatively.’
‘I don’t trust the police, and I can’t say they’ve ever helped me.’
DI Morgan nodded. ‘There’s a first time for everything, Dennis.’
Dennis pushed off the wall. ‘Well, what are you waiting for? Go and talk to Phil Carver and find out if he had anything to do with my daughter’s disappearance.’
‘I’m waiting for DS Hart. She’s asking Jenny about him. We need to find out everything we can. That way, when we talk to Phil, we go in with a position of strength.’
Dennis thought for a moment and then said, ‘I can understand that. Knowledge is power, right?’
DI Morgan nodded. ‘Right.’
Dennis turned and stared off across the road. ‘I just hope you’re not too late.’
Ten minutes later, DI Morgan and Karen were on their way to pay Jenny’s new boyfriend a visit. Karen was driving this time.
‘Why didn’t Jenny mention him before?’ DI Morgan asked.
Jenny’s boyfriend, Phil Carver, lived in Bracebridge Heath, and it wasn’t an area DI Morgan knew well.
Karen turned left at the traffic lights. ‘She didn’t want Dennis finding out, apparently.’
DI Morgan huffed impatiently. ‘For goodness’ sake. Her daughter’s missing. Why would she hold information like that back?’
Karen turned right at the Premier Inn, just behind a tractor pulling a trailer. ‘For what it’s worth, I think she knows she made a mistake, sir. And she’s convinced he hasn’t got anything to do with Emily’s disappearance.’
DI Morgan didn’t look mollified. ‘Our job would be far easier if people didn’t keep things from us.’
‘You’ve got no argument from me on that score.’
DI Morgan called the station and spoke to Sophie, who’d been running a background check on Phil Carver. When Karen stopped at the traffic lights, she looked at DI Morgan. He shook his head.
She supposed coming up with something clear-cut like a criminal record or Phil Carver’s name on the sex register was too much to hope for.
When DI Morgan hung up, he related everything Sophie had told him. ‘It seems Phil Carver’s a freelance computer expert. He’s lived at his current address for three years. No criminal record and lives alone.’
‘Ever married?’
DI Morgan shook his head.
Karen indicated and pulled in beside a small parade of shops, including a Tesco Express and a shop selling e-cigarettes. ‘I think his flat must be one of these,’ she said, nodding at the windows over the shops.
She parked, and they headed to the back of the shops to find the entrance to the flats.
The front of the shops had looked smart enough, but at the back, there were large, overflowing metal bins and plastic bollards, some of which had been knocked over. A wide concrete staircase rose up to the upper floors. It was open to the elements, and there were only two floors of flats above the parade of shops.
‘I think this must be the way,’ Karen said, beginning to climb the stairs.
Below them, there was creaking and rattling as a metal folding door opened. One of the shops must have been expecting a delivery.
‘He’s number twenty-one,’ Karen said as they walked past two doors. ‘Ah, here it is.’
The door was painted bright blue, and gold-coloured numbers were screwed in place above the rusted letterbox. There was no bell, so Karen rapped with her knuckles.
They had no reason to think either girl was here, but both DI Morgan and Karen scanned the area and the parked cars as they waited for Phil Carver to open the door.
When he finally did open up, DI Morgan was taken aback. He was Dennis Dean’s complete opposite. Clearly, this time around, Jenny had chosen a very different man. The only thing they had in common was their height. But where Dennis was strong and muscular, Phil Carver was thin to the point where DI Morgan wondered if he’d been ill. His face was pale and he had dark circles under his eyes. He blinked at them initially, screwing up his face as though he were allergic to the sunlight.
‘Phil Carver?’ Karen asked.
Phil narrowed his eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said nervously. ‘What’s all this about?’
They showed their ID and Phil’s shoulders rounded and slumped. ‘I thought you’d get here eventually. It’s about the girls, isn’t it?’
Karen lifted an eyebrow. ‘That’s right.’
He led the way inside. The flat was small and dark and the air was stuffy. The windows had not been opened in a very long time. A faint smell of old fried food lingered in the air.
Phil walked in front of them. His tracksuit bottoms hung so low on his hips it looked as though they were about to slip down and expose his backside. His arms sticking out of his baggy, black T-shirt were painfully thin.
He led the way into a small living room crammed with electronic equipment. One wall was almost covered by four huge monitors. Computer equipment and games consoles were stacked below them.
In front of the equipment stood a chair. DI Morgan recognised it as one of those fancy ergonomic models – much more expensive than the ones they used back at the station.
Phil collapsed down into the chair, spun around and then nodded over to a couple of red bucket chairs. ‘Take a pew,’ he said.
Although the computer equipment and games consoles had green lights flashing, indicating they were on, all the monitors had been switched off, which immediately made DI Morgan suspicious.
‘It’s dark in here, Mr Carver,’ Karen said as she sat down. ‘Don’t you ever open the curtains?’
Phil shook his head. ‘No, the sun shines on the screens and makes them hard to see.’
‘You certainly have a lot of computer monitors,’ DI Morgan said, looking around the room.
‘It’s my job,’ Phil said.
‘And what is your job exactly?’ Karen asked.
‘I’m a champion,’ Phil said proudly, surprising DI Morgan.
‘Really?’ Karen asked drily.
Phil nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yeah, I compete professionally: online gaming. Mostly Xbox. I do very well at that, but I play some PC games as well.’
‘And you earn a living from that?’ DI Morgan asked.
‘Yeah, I do.’ He smiled. ‘There aren’t many people who can say they earn a living out of their favourite pastime.’
Although the computer equipment looked top of the range, the other furniture in the flat was mismatched and tatty. DI Morgan wouldn’t be surprised if it had come from a charity shop or had been donated by relatives or friends. He didn’t seem to be making a very good living out of these competitions.
‘Does Emily like these games, Phil?’ Karen asked.
‘Emily?’ The boastful expression left Phil’s face, and now he just looked guarded.
‘Yes,’ DI Morgan said. ‘Emily’s ten years old. That’s the sort of age kids love to play computer games, isn’t it?’
Phil gave a sulky shrug. ‘I don’t really know the kid.’
‘You’re in a relationship with her mother?’
Phil shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His tongue slid along his lower lip. ‘Kind of. I mean it’s early days. But she’s a good-looking woman, right?’ He raised his eyebrows and looked at DI Morgan for confirmation, but DI Morgan remained silent. ‘Any red-blooded male would be interested in Jenny Dean. The only problem is, her ex is a nutter.’
‘Did you ever meet Emily?’ Karen asked.
Phil shrugged. Again his tongue flicked across his lower lip. ‘Only a few times. I mean, as I said, it’s early days. We went out for a couple of meals in Lincoln and spent an evening at my local. Jenny doesn’t want to rush into
anything, not with her kid to think about. She just introduced me to Emily as her friend. I barely spoke to her the first time, and the second time I went to Jenny’s house I didn’t see her for more than five minutes.’
‘And when was this?’
Phil’s eyes darted between the two detectives. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You said you saw Emily for five minutes. When was this?’
Phil swallowed and focused his dark, dull eyes on Karen. ‘It was about a fortnight ago, I suppose. A couple of months after she kicked Dennis out. She likes me because I’m nothing like him. I called round to pick Jenny up, and she hadn’t finished doing her make-up, so she invited me to wait inside. There was nothing sinister about it.’
Karen nodded slowly. ‘What did you talk about?’
Phil threw up his hands. ‘I can’t remember. I probably asked how school had been or something. I was only inside the house for a couple of minutes. To be honest, I was more scared of Jenny’s mother.’
‘So you met Jenny’s mother too.’
‘Well, of course, she was there to look after Emily. Jenny’s a good mum, you know. She wouldn’t just leave Emily all alone without a babysitter when we were off down the pub for the night.’
‘What were you doing the day the girls disappeared?’
‘Playing in an online competition. They keep records of where and when players are active, so you can check if you want.’
Karen removed a sheet of paper from the folder in her bag and balanced it on her legs. It was a printout of Sian Gibson’s most recent school photo. She held it out to Phil Carver. ‘Recognise her?’
Phil peered at the printout. ‘Is this the other girl?’
‘Yes.’
He sat back in his chair and shook his head. ‘No, I’ve never seen her before in my life.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Karen breathed in deep lungfuls of fresh air. The inside of the flat had been claustrophobic and stale. She couldn’t wait to escape. The reptilian way Phil Carver ran the tip of his tongue along his lower lip before answering their questions had made her skin crawl.
‘Did you notice the computers were on even though the monitors were off ?’ DI Morgan asked in a low voice once Phil Carver had closed the door.
Karen nodded. ‘Perhaps there was something on them he didn’t want visitors to see?’
DI Morgan looked back towards the flat. ‘I didn’t ask him about it because I didn’t want to tip him off before we get a warrant. We’ll need forensics to analyse all the computer gear he has up there and take a look at his internet history.’
‘If he does have something to hide, I hope our visit doesn’t provoke him to start deleting stuff,’ Karen said.
‘What did you make of him?’ DI Morgan asked as they walked side by side down the concrete steps.
‘My instinct tells me he’s not to be trusted, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he had anything to do with the girls’ disappearance. What does your gut tell you?’
‘My gut doesn’t tell me anything. I don’t believe in that mumbo jumbo.’ DI Morgan shook his head and looked irritated. ‘But there’s no evidence that he had anything to do with it. No relevant history, and he claims to have an alibi.’
Karen was about to reply when a large lorry pulled up in front of them, its rumbling engine drowning out her voice as they walked around it. She watched DI Morgan walk a few steps ahead of her and pulled a face at him, feeling as immature as Rick and Sophie, although it was probably a better way to let off steam than start an argument.
‘By the time we get the warrant, there’ll probably be nothing left to look at. He’s some computer whizz, so he’ll know how to delete things without leaving a trace,’ Karen said once they were far enough away from the lorry for him to hear her.
‘I agree, but without him handing the equipment over voluntarily, our only option is a warrant. Look, do you mind waiting for a minute?’ DI Morgan said, loosening his collar and handing her the car keys. ‘I’m getting a headache and want to grab some paracetamol from Tesco.’
‘Of course,’ Karen said.
She was planning to wait by the car, but as she stood there watching people nipping into shops and queuing in traffic, she suddenly felt furious. Two little girls were still missing, and life was going on as normal.
She stomped over to the boot and removed a couple of large plastic evidence bags, along with some official forms and a marker pen, then locked the car and stalked off back towards Phil Carver’s flat.
When DI Morgan arrived back at the car, tablets in hand, he was surprised to find Karen had gone. He looked around the car park but still couldn’t see her. Had she decided she needed something from one of the shops too?
He pulled out a strip of tablets and swallowed two. He was beginning to grow concerned and was considering going in search of Karen when suddenly she appeared. He frowned. She was carrying a big desktop computer and what looked like a laptop in large evidence bags.
He walked forward to help her and asked what was going on.
‘I decided you were right,’ Karen said. ‘We only had two options. Wait for a warrant or get Phil Carver to hand over his computer equipment voluntarily.’
DI Morgan raised an eyebrow. ‘How on earth did you manage to persuade Phil Carver to hand over his computer equipment?’
Karen smiled a little sheepishly. ‘Um, could you open the boot for me?’
DI Morgan took the keys and did as she asked, helping her load the evidence. The bags were labelled, and Karen showed him that the forms had been filled in correctly.
DI Morgan shook his head in disbelief and walked to the driver’s side. ‘I hope this is all above board, Karen.’
‘Of course. He gave me his computer equipment voluntarily and signed the forms. We’ll still need a warrant for his ISP provider.’
‘Those computers are his life,’ DI Morgan said. ‘I find it very hard to believe he’d just hand them over like that.’
Karen shrugged. ‘Well, he may have had a little encouragement.’
DI Morgan frowned. ‘What sort of encouragement?’
‘I happened to mention how terrible it would be if Dennis Dean discovered where he was living, especially if Dennis heard Phil wasn’t cooperating with our enquiries.’
‘You threatened him?’
Karen shook her head. ‘I wouldn’t say threatened exactly, more focused his train of thought.’
DI Morgan leaned on the roof of the car and studied Karen. ‘And what if this evidence is ruled inadmissible? If he’s done anything to the girls, he might get away with it.’
‘There’s no reason it would be. And I’m sick of waiting around, sir. We don’t have time to wait for the warrant. If he is involved and the girls are still alive, the clock is ticking.’
‘If the superintendent finds out about this, Karen . . .’
‘Then we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,’ Karen said stubbornly.
‘I was planning to go back via Heighington and visit Matthew Saunders, but I suppose we can’t do that with the evidence in the car. We can’t leave it unattended.’
Karen pulled out her mobile phone. ‘That’s not a problem. I’ll get Rick to pick the equipment up and take it back to the tech lab at Nettleham. We just have to make sure we maintain the chain of custody.’ All stages in the processing of evidence had to be recorded. If the evidence was relied upon for a conviction, every movement or transfer had to be accounted for or the case could fall apart in court.
Back in the car, Karen asked Rick to come and meet them at Heighington to collect the evidence, while DI Morgan started the engine. Karen had certainly taken a risk. There were all sorts of things that could go wrong. For one, Phil Carver might have other computers that they hadn’t spotted, and without a full search, they could miss something really important. DI Morgan was caught between wanting to reprimand Karen and understanding why she’d behaved the way she had.
If they’d waited for the warrant,
chances were that everything would have been wiped from the computers and they’d have nothing to go on. At least now they had a fighting chance of finding out what Phil Carver was up to. Whether his shady behaviour had anything to do with the girls’ disappearance remained to be seen.
Karen slid into the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt. She’d been expecting a dressing-down from DI Morgan for acting alone when his back was turned. She should have talked this over with him first. She still believed she’d done the right thing, but it had been reckless – even she had to admit that.
She knew she and DI Morgan had a difference of opinion on certain matters. Karen very much relied on her instinct when it came to working out whether someone was telling the truth or not. DI Morgan played things by the book. That wasn’t what annoyed Karen. The thing that had got under her skin was the fact that he relied on hunches but pretended he didn’t. Take Matthew Saunders, for example. They were paying him another visit because DI Morgan had a hunch Matthew Saunders was hiding something.
Karen knew she was better off keeping her mouth shut. DI Morgan wasn’t exactly a tyrant, but pointing out your senior officer was wrong wasn’t the wisest move.
She stayed silent as he drove out of the car park and headed back to the main Lincoln road, but once he’d turned left and headed back towards Heighington, Karen couldn’t keep quiet any longer.
‘How do you explain Matthew Saunders?’ she asked.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you have a hunch. Your gut told you he was lying.’
‘No, not at all. It had nothing to do with my gut. It was something concrete. Something about his behaviour tipped me off. I just didn’t know what it was at the time.’
‘Well, isn’t that what hunches are? People relying on small signs and tells, body language. Being able to read people.’
‘I’d like to think it’s more scientific than that,’ DI Morgan said mildly.
Karen clamped her mouth shut. Maybe they should just agree to disagree on this one.
‘I’ll park up on the High Street,’ DI Morgan said. ‘I think Matthew Saunders might open up to me if I talk to him alone.’
