“Sir, Helen and I…”
“Want to go to Ashton and interview Jess?”
“Yes please. Just thinking, it might be a bit more productive if you weren’t around.”
“Yes, I totally agree. I was hoping that you’d fancy taking care of it. Is that why you’re in so early, Helen?”
“Sort of, Sir. Keith was worried that you’d set off with him, and balls everything up because the chemistry is all to cock between you and Jess Pollard. So, he promised to take me to see Mumford and Sons, if I came in early and blocked you.”
Miller laughed loudly at Grant’s raw honesty.
“I didn’t say that at all!” said Saunders, blushing slightly.
“Why the hell do you want to go and visit a Funeral Directors, anyway?” asked Miller.
“It’s a band, Sir.” Grant smiled, well aware that Miller was pulling her leg. The DCI turned to Saunders. “I bet you did say that, you two-faced lying bastard! Right, well, before you set off, I want a quick look at your game-plan.”
Saunders grabbed his file. “Okay, I’ve got three key lines of enquiry that I wish to discuss…” The DI talked through the key points that he wanted to pursue during the interview with Pollard’s daughter.
“Okay, looks good to me. Go on, off you go. I’ve got to sort out a breakfast press briefing, so I wouldn’t have wanted to go anyway Keith, you back-stabbing piece-of-shit.”
“Good. Alright, well, speak later.”
Miller loved his team, he loved the brutal honesty amongst the officers and he didn’t mind if the piss was being taken out of him from time to time. It made for a good team ethic if he was the butt of the joke just as much as the others. He did miss working as closely with Saunders these days, if he was honest. But he liked the new, emerging professional partnership between Grant and Saunders. Despite the fact that they lived together, it worked very well.
Miller opened the envelope which had been driven over from Llandudno the previous night. His hand was shaking slightly as he tried to insert the memory-stick into the USB port on the front of Saunders’ PC. Within seconds of opening the file, he was watching the CCTV footage of Darren Jenkins and his 56 year-old school teacher relaxing in The Palladium.
The boy looked happy. That was the first thing that caught Miller’s eye, and the realisation of how happy the missing kid was on Sunday afternoon, put him at ease. Darren was smiling, laughing, talking, then laughing again. It did just look like a father and son visit to the pub for tea, Miller could see why the bar manager had quickly arrived at that conclusion.
Miller was transfixed by the footage as Pollard struck up a conversation with Lee, the manager, and Darren went off to the toilets. The kid walked as though he was in no hurry, his body language didn’t make it appear that he felt under any threat. He didn’t seem paranoid or on edge, or eager to try and escape from Pollard. Miller was watching the boy as he had the perfect opportunity to escape from Pollard. But that just wasn’t on Darren’s agenda, in fact the way he was walking through the pub, towards the back door, suggested that the thought had never crossed his mind.
As he continued to watch the footage, Miller began to get a sinking feeling. He was beginning to think that perhaps this was, after all, a love thing. All the signs were there. It looked like Darren thought the world of Mr Pollard and this realisation troubled him, and sapped his positive energy as it dawned on the DCI that he really didn’t have a clue what the hell was going on with this bizarre set-up.
Miller selected the clip that he wanted to present to the press. It showed Pollard and Jenkins eating. They both had gigantic steaks in front of them and were talking away between mouthfuls, seemingly without a care in the world. The CCTV camera angle showed them both extremely clearly and would now provide the best photographic image of the two people that the police wanted to find as a matter of the utmost urgency.
“That’ll do nicely!” said Miller as he tried to replenish his positive outlook from earlier. Despite the depressing thoughts that these images had inspired within him, he knew deep down that it was excellent content that would leave the British public in absolutely no doubt who they were being asked to keep an eye out for.
Once the edited footage had been sent to the press office and to central police comms for redistribution to every police force in the UK, Miller started working on his press statement. He was wary that he had to be careful how he explained the arrests of Daniel and Jess, but at the same time, he genuinely believed that Saunders’ theory was spot on. They did know something, and Miller’s insides flipped as he realised that he wouldn’t have much longer to wait to find out exactly what it was that they knew.
Chapter Thirty
Ashton police station is the main police hub for the Tameside metropolitan area, of which Stalybridge, the home town of the Pollard family, makes up one of Tameside’s eight towns.
Saunders and Grant arrived at the police station at 7.25 am, and were surprised to see press photographers and a couple of reporters standing outside. The media personnel had put two and two together and correctly guessed that Jess Pollard had been brought here. The sight of DI Keith Saunders and DC Helen Grant getting out of an unmarked CID car confirmed that their guess had been spot on.
“Detective Inspector, is it true that Jess is being held on suspicion of murder?”
“DI Saunders, have Darren’s and Mr Pollard’s bodies been found?”
“Can you confirm that Jess Pollard has been arrested because of her lack of emotion in last night’s press conference?”
Saunders and Grant smiled politely as they fought their way through the press. It was a relief to get inside the police station’s reception and close the door behind themselves.
“Good morning, I’m DI Saunders, this is DC Helen Grant, from the SCIU. We’re here to interview Jessica Pollard.” Saunders was looking forward to this. He had an unenviable record for cracking the vast majority of the department’s most challenging cases, some through fluke, but most through brilliant detective work. As he and Grant were shown beyond the public area and into the main police station, he was absolutely determined to bring home the bacon on this one, as well.
Things had moved remarkably quickly thanks to Saunders’ ringing ahead, and Jess Pollard was in Interview Room 2 with a duty solicitor, just twenty minutes after Saunders and Grant had arrived.
Jessica Pollard looked angry, upset and a little bit deflated, not to mention tired. It didn’t look as though she’d managed to grab much sleep in her cell. She certainly didn’t resemble the cock-sure, ball-breaker who Miller had indulged for over 90 minutes, just 14 hours or so earlier. Saunders and Grant smiled politely as they entered the interview room. Their warmth was not returned.
Once all the legal talk was completed and Jess was made aware of her rights, the interview got under way. DI Saunders began, whilst DC Grant made notes. She had been instructed to bide her time, but knew exactly when she was expected to step in.
“Okay, Jess, to get things started, do you know where your father is?”
“No.” She was looking up at the ceiling, avoiding eye contact with anybody.
“Can you tell me where Darren Jenkins is?”
“No.” The answer was followed by a huff.
“Can you tell me when you last spoke to your father, please?”
Jess thought for a minute. “It will have been last Tuesday.”
“Was this face-to-face, or by phone, or by another medium?”
“Face-to-face. He came round to see mum but she was out. I made him a brew, we talked about a few problems I was having at work. And then he left.”
“What time was this?”
“I don’t know.”
“Roughly?”
“Well, roughly between six and seven.”
“And this was at the family address, where you live with your mother.”
“Yes.”
Jess wasn’t looking remotely interested in any of this, and Saunders wasn’t sure if it was
down to arrogance, because she was 100% confident that she hadn’t done anything wrong, or if it was an act, to pretend not to be worried and thus, convince the police that she was completely innocent of any wrong-doing. Saunders had seen “the act” a million times before, so it held no water with him.
“And when did you first become aware that your dad was missing?”
“Last Saturday. Mum was getting into a bit of a state. They’d had a row or something and she upset him. She’d not seen him for a couple of days and he’d been blanking her calls. She went round to apologise to him but there was no sign of him.”
“Are you concerned about your father’s welfare?”
“Not massively. Like I said to mum, he’s just having a mini-breakdown or something.”
“And would you say that abducting one of his pupils was part of that mini-breakdown?”
Jess looked at her solicitor who mouthed something to her. She repeated it. “No comment.”
“We’ve been looking at your communications devices. It seems that you’ve made a number of calls to your brother over the course of the past few days. Can you tell us anything about that?”
Jess looked at Saunders with a cocky, sly grin. “Are you being serious? My dad is in the news for going missing with a pupil, and you are asking me why I’ve been talking to my brother? Is this a joke?” She added a fake laugh onto the end.
“No, I’m sure you recognise that this isn’t a joke. I’m simply trying to work out why you have had so many conversations with your brother, when your phone records state that you rarely speak. Last month, for instance, you didn’t phone him once, and you sent him two text messages. So, it doesn’t strike me that you are particularly close.”
“Hey! I just told you! My dad has run off with a kid from school! I’m quite entitled to speak to my brother about it. Aren’t I?”
“Yes, yes of course you are. It’s perfectly understandable. I’m just asking.”
“Well, get some better questions then.”
DC Grant saw her opportunity to ask a better question, whilst simultaneously stunning Jess Pollard with her first judder, following Saunders gentle warm-up.
“Jess, if what you are saying is correct,”
“It is correct.” She said, huffing again.
“Can you explain why the high volume of calls and text messages between your brother and yourself commenced last Friday. A week ago today?”
“What? I…”
“You said that you were entitled to speak to your brother, since your dad was in the news for running off with a pupil. However, that story only came out on Wednesday lunchtime, six days after your father and Darren Jenkins disappeared, last Thursday.”
Jess was trying to think fast. She’d let in an own goal there, and she knew it. Her face was heating up and her solicitor sensed the vibes.
“I don’t know. No reason. Just talking.”
“Jess, when we seized your phone last night, we discovered that all of the calls and text messages to your brother since last Friday have been deleted from the call history, and the text messages have all been deleted. In fact the last one was a text, from Daniel, saying ‘yeah lol, and you’re still fat and single.’ That text was received over a month ago. Can you explain why you have deleted at least nine text messages to and from your brother, between last Friday, and last night?”
Boom. The second punch was harder than the first and seemed to have done more damage. Jess Pollard was dazed. Her solicitor recognised the signs, and pulled rank.
“Can I have a word with my client, in private please?” she asked.
“Of course.” Said Saunders. “Interview suspended at,” he looked at his watch. “Zero eight hundred hours.”
Grant and Saunders left the interview room, closed the door and stood outside on the corridor. Grant held her hand up for a high-five but Saunders ducked it. She punched him in the arm.
“Oh, here we go,” said Saunders, looking at the Sky News app on his phone. “The press conference is starting.” He clicked “watch live,” and Grant stood beside him, to see what Miller was revealing in this early morning press gathering.
*****
“Good morning,” said Miller, as he sat down in front of the assembled press. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all, and the public, for an absolutely superb reaction to our appeal for information last night. As you’ll all recall, I explained that we were centring our enquiries around the seaside town of Llandudno, in North Wales. Following a really excellent response, I am encouraged by the information which has been coming in to us. The first piece of evidence that we have which proves that Darren Jenkins and Philip Pollard are together, is this.” Miller started playing the CCTV footage from the laptop, displaying it on the huge projector screen to his right.
“As you can see, Darren and Philip seem to be quite relaxed and in very good spirits. This is very encouraging, because not only is it the first sign that these two are together, as I said, but also, because it confirms that they are both safe and in good health. However, I must warn you all that this footage is now several days old. It was recorded at The Palladium pub, in Llandudno, on Sunday tea-time.”
Miller let the clip play through for a few more seconds, before stopping it and replacing it with the photo of the motor-home, which had featured in the previous night’s address.
“This motor-home, as I explained last time, has been hired from Tameside Camper Hire. The vehicle is a white, Eldiss Autoquest 6 berth motor-home, registration PN67 WYN. We still wish to locate this vehicle but we have no evidence that it ever left Llandudno as it has not passed an ANPR camera since Sunday, when it arrived in the resort. We know for certain that the vehicle is not in Llandudno, or in the wider area, as police helicopters have carried out a detailed overhead search. This leads us to the conclusion that the registration plates have been changed. We do know that the vehicle’s tracking device was removed on Sunday, whilst in Llandudno, so we are working on the assumption that the vehicle’s registration plates were changed at the same time.”
This information was being welcomed by the press, it was all interesting stuff which could quickly be whipped up into sensational headlines.
“So, the message regarding the motor-home is unaltered. The photo of the vehicle is on the screen, and we want every member of the public keeping an eye out for it. We believe that it contains Philip Pollard and Darren Jenkins. However, we have no idea where it is now and enough time has elapsed since Sunday, for the vehicle to be literally anywhere on the British mainland. There are approximately two hundred and fifty thousand motor-homes registered with the DVLA in the UK, so we are completely aware of the challenges involved in spotting just one. Now that we have released the up to date CCTV of Darren and Philip, I am confident that there will be people out there in our communities who will have spotted this vehicle and its occupants. And if you are one of those people, we desperately want to hear from you.”
Miller took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sure all of you are aware of the arrests we made last night. I’d have preferred that these arrests hadn’t been reported, but I’m fully aware that it is difficult to suppress these stories. Firstly, I need to make it clear that no charges have been brought against either of the two people we have taken into custody. Secondly, I would advise the press to tone the reporting down or you may well find yourselves in court, answering libel and defamation cases. Now, I know you all want to know why we have made the arrests but that information is confidential. All I will say is that we have reason to believe that the two people in our custody have information or access to information which is vital to this enquiry. They may or may not even know about this information, and there’s also a chance they don’t have any information at all. So, for a second time, I would urge you all to report on this case with caution.”
Miller took a sip from his glass of water, as the press considered the gentle bollocking, and words of caution.
“Okay, once again, the key message coming
out of my department this morning, is that we desperately need to find this motor-home.” Miller pointed up at the screen. “We live on a tiny island and we’re a nation on nosey-parkers. With that in mind, I am extremely confident that we will know where this vehicle is by end of play today. So, keep sharing the pictures online, keep reporting, and lets all pull together to find Darren Jenkins and Philip Pollard. No questions this morning please.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Miller was pleased with how the press conference had gone, he thought he’d said enough to get the journalists and reporters to back off a bit as far as Pollard’s son and daughter were concerned. He arrived back in the office, where the constables were busy answering incident room calls. Worthington and Chapman were sat at their desks, wondering where everybody else was.
“Morning,” said Miller, in the general direction of everybody as he switched his phone back on.
“Morning Sir,” said Worthington. The PCs waved as they continued logging the information which was coming in from the calls.
“Where is everyone?” asked Chapman. He looked pissed off, as usual.
“Oh, yes, sorry, Jo and Pete have gone over to Scarborough to interview Daniel Pollard. Keith and Helen are at Ashton nick, interviewing his sister.”
“Oh, thanks for the invite!” said Chapman, feeling a little annoyed that he’d been left out.
“What?” asked Miller. He looked confused.
“You, you have your favourites, don’t you?” Chapman was spoiling for a fight and Miller wasn’t prepared for this sudden, unexpected confrontation.
“Wait, just a sec, what are you going on about, Bill?”
“Oh, nowt, its just, every time I come in here, the good jobs have been taken and we’re left with the sweeping up!”
Miller didn’t look impressed.
“What time did you come in, Bill?”
“Eight.”
“And what time do you start?”
“Eight.”
Proof of Life Page 17
