Millie went to talk to Emma O’Brien and Peter Klinnemann about what would be happening. While she was doing that, Mariner went to splash water over his face in an effort to wake himself up a bit. Back in his office he put on a clean shirt, kept for just such an occasion as this, and was straightening his tie in the reflection from the window when Millie walked in. ‘Very nice, sir,’ she said, grinning, and Mariner had a flashback to the occasion a couple of years earlier when he and Millie had worked together on the disappearance of a young Asian girl. It, too, had been an emotionally charged time and on one memorable evening they had ended up in bed at her flat.
Mostly the incident went unspoken between them, a brief, impulsive episode, but she never quite let him forget it. Mariner caught sight of her ring. For the last six months Millie had been engaged to a man her parents had ‘found’ for her, something she’d always sworn she would resist. ‘But he’s actually okay,’ she’d confided to Mariner shortly after she and her intended had met. Turned out he was more than okay.
The train of thought reminded Mariner that he should try again to speak to Anna, but there really wasn’t time before the conference.
Minutes later, under the glare of the pressroom spotlights, Mariner flanked DCI Sharp as she read out a prepared statement, looking directly into the camera and appealing to Jessica’s abductor. She was good, thought Mariner. And Emma O’Brien alongside them needed no coaching to look suitably distraught. She wept intermittently throughout. Peter Klinnemann remained composed, his arm around his partner, but Mariner could see the milky gleam of his knuckles as he clutched her hand.
The efit compiled with Christie’s help was flashed on to the screen while Mariner gave a more detailed description of Jessica’s abductor, omitting a couple of details so that they could rule out the hoax calls that would inevitably result, and giving the phone number of the incident room. He appealed to the public to come forward if they noticed any sudden new additions to the families of friends or neighbours, or anyone acting suspiciously. The whole performance would be broadcast on local and national evening news. As Millie ushered the Klinnemanns out of the pressroom, he and Sharp then took questions.
‘DCI Sharp, this has happened very close to the maternity hospital. Do you see a parallel with the Naomi Carr case?’
‘It’s just one of many possibilities we’re exploring.’
But as the Klinnemanns were exiting through the side door, another of the journalists called after them: ‘Mr Klinnemann, am I correct in thinking that you are the same Peter Klinnemann who works for Hamilton Sciences? And if so do you think this could be the work of animal rights activists?’
The question took them all by surprise, horror spreading like a domino effect across their faces. Someone had either made a huge unfounded assumption or had thoroughly done his homework. Judging from the look on Klinnemann’s face it was the latter. Before Klinnemann could say anything, Mariner cut in with the standard reply: ‘At this early stage we’re not ruling out anything.’ His eyes locked with DCI Sharp’s. Christ, if that journalist was right then it took this case to a whole new level.
After he’d finished his stint in the pressroom Mariner went to see the Klinnemanns. Millie was approaching from the opposite direction.
‘You’ve got them in somewhere?’ Mariner asked.
‘The Cedar Wood Hotel.’
‘Good.’ It was a couple of minutes drive away, and discreet. The Klinnemanns would need a break from the press attention. As Mariner and Millie drew nearer to the room they heard raised voices.
‘If this is down to them, I’ll never forgive you!’ Emma O’Brien shrieked. As Mariner tapped on the door, the voices ceased abruptly and Mariner went in to see Klinnemann and Emma O’Brien both on their feet, just inches apart, Emma O’Brien leaning in aggressively towards Klinnemann. Seeing the police officers her whole body seemed to deflate as the adrenaline subsided, and she looked shattered.
‘I’m sorry to have put you through that,’ Mariner said, referring to the press conference and ignoring the tension in the air. ‘But it’s the most effective tool we’ve got for communicating with the abductor.’
‘We understand.’ Klinnemann swallowed hard, speaking for both of them.
‘We’ve booked a room for you at a local hotel, where you’ll be more comfortable. It’s out of the way so you should get some peace from the media. PC Khatoon will take you there. I realise it may not seem possible, but it will be a good idea if you can try to get some rest. If you wish we can arrange for the FME, our medical officer, to give you something—’
‘We don’t need anything,’ Peter Klinnemann said quietly, catching on immediately. ‘We just want you to find our baby daughter.’
‘Of course,’ said Mariner. ‘It goes without saying that we’ll keep you informed of any developments.’ God, he got sick of that phrase.
Taking her arm, Millie guided Emma O’Brien out of the room. Mariner moved to follow Peter Klinnemann, but he hung back until the two women had turned the corner, before rounding on Mariner. ‘How in the name of God did that reporter know about my work place?’ he demanded to know.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Mariner, truthfully. ‘Perhaps your name—’
‘They have no reason to make that connection. One of your officers must have told them.’ Klinnemann was incensed.
‘I can assure you,’ Mariner said, coldly, ‘that none of my officers had even made the link themselves. And even if they had, they certainly would not have given out that kind of information without first speaking to me. I’m very sorry that it came up, but I’ve no way of knowing how the press found out.’
‘Then it must have been one of the nursery staff.’
‘I can’t speak for them of course. But it would have emerged sooner or later. I’m disappointed that you didn’t see fit to tell us right from the beginning. It’s another obvious line of enquiry and we might have lost valuable time. You must know how these people operate. They have whole networks of intelligence. It really would have helped if you were more open with us.’
‘I didn’t want to make Emma any more afraid than she is already. You know what lengths these people will go to, Inspector. They put the lives of animals above human lives. Can you imagine what this will do to her if she believes that one of those barbarians might have our daughter?’
‘I’m sorry the press found out, Mr Klinnemann, but our priority remains to recover Jessica safely.’
It seemed to bring him up short, the anger dissipating as quickly as it had flared. ‘It was a mistake. I apologise.’
‘It’s a difficult time,’ Mariner said, but they both let the understatement pass. ‘What exactly is the nature of your work?’
‘I’m researching into the effectiveness of a drug that treats Alzheimer’s disease.’
‘And it involves the use of live animals?’
‘Yes.’
While he had Klinnemann on his own it seemed a good opportunity to raise some other sensitive issues. Mariner steeled himself. ‘Mr Klinnemann this makes it more likely that, at some stage, we may be contacted by the abductor. Is there something about Jessica, some distinguishing feature that wouldn’t be commonly known, a mole or birthmark perhaps?’
Klinnemann rubbed a hand over his eyes. He was tired. ‘Yes, she has a muttermal, a . . .’ He sketched a round shape on the back of his hand.
‘A birthmark?’ Mariner guessed.
‘Yes, about one inch, but here,’ Klinnemann touched his neck, ‘underneath the hair.’
‘Also,’ Mariner went on, ‘we may need something like a lock of Jessica’s hair.’
‘Yes, I think—’ The significance of the request dawned on Klinnemann. ‘Oh my God.’
‘It’s routine,’ Mariner reassured him quickly. ‘Nothing more. It’s just easier to ask you now.’ Instead of leaving it until later when we need it.
‘Yes, yes of course. I’ll see to it.’
‘What is Hamilton Sciences?’ Millie asked, coming
back into the incident room after leaving the Klinnemanns at their hotel.
‘It’s a research centre that’s been a target for animal rights activists,’ Mariner filled her in. ‘It gets in the news all the time, thanks to them.’
‘That’s why it sounded so familiar.’
‘Yes, he told me the name of the company he worked for hours ago, but I didn’t make the connection. I wish to God I had.’
‘Didn’t they follow home some guy who worked there, and beat him up in front of his wife and kids?’ Knox asked.
‘Among other things. Christ, if they’re involved we’re into a whole different ball game. Why the hell didn’t Klinnemann tell us that?’
Millie looked shaken. ‘Perhaps he didn’t want to consider it a possibility.’
‘More fool him. He leads a research team. He’s a prime target.’
‘If it is them, they’ll have done their preparation. Someone will have found out that Emma O’Brien was coming here today and would have recced the nursery in advance.’
‘It’s possible. There are active cells of animal rights all over the country who gather intelligence and communicate via the Internet. It would be a big operation, but they are highly organised and something could have been set up. The nursery has the crèche contract with the hospital and details of the children using the facility are passed on. Someone there could have easily made the link. It might be worth checking if Jimmy Bond has any leanings in that direction, too.’
It added a whole layer of further work to be done. ‘Someone could do with identifying any likely candidates here, and I’ll add that to the list of things to ask them in Cambridge.’
Mariner returned to his office to make the call to Cambridgeshire police himself. DI Ruth Tunstall had been nominated to liaise with him and Mariner was pleased to pick up the professional tone at the other end of the line. Ruth knew the family from previous involvement and had already made it her business to have the paperwork available. Even so, he was surprised at the level of detail.
‘Peter Klinnemann left his wife Mary last October, when Emma O’Brien was two months pregnant,’ she told him. ‘Mary took it very badly and was hellbent on revenge. It was all good bunny-boiling stuff, but nothing terribly original. Peter initially moved into Emma’s flat in Cambridge. Mary followed him there and on several occasions subsequently we were called out to disturbances; mostly Mary standing in the street below shouting abuse at them both, sometimes throwing fruit and eggs at the windows. On one occasion she dumped all Peter’s clothes outside Emma’s flat in black bin bags. It seemed perfectly reasonable until he opened up the bags and found his best suits and shirts liberally seasoned with tomato ketchup and HP sauce.’
‘Ouch,’ said Mariner.
‘Quite. Mary also admitted to making nuisance calls to Emma O’Brien at home and at work and there were instances of vandalism to their cars, all of it cosmetic - lipstick on the windscreen, a knife in the tyres. It wasn’t so much the seriousness of the attacks as the persistence and in the end Peter Klinnemann was forced to take out an injunction against her.’
‘And has it worked?’
‘Yes. I mean this all happened months ago, and Mary’s been pretty quiet since. I’ve been keeping an eye on her too. We’ve talked a lot and she seems to listen to me.’
Mariner wasn’t surprised. Ruth Tunstall seemed the kind of person who would elicit confidences. ‘When did you last see her?’
‘I’ve just come from her house - their house as I suppose it technically still is. You can rest assured that if Mary is in any way involved it’s not in the front line, and I would doubt that she has anything to do with it. I don’t think she’s particularly sorry that it’s happened but neither is she up to organising anything like it. She’s on anti-depressants and pretty spaced out.’
‘What about the children?’
‘Lisbet is lovely. She lives away from home now, up in Peterborough, but she’s been spending a lot of time with her mum. She’s been very supportive.’
‘And Paul?’
Ruth Tunstall began to measure her words carefully. ‘Paul is different,’ she said. ‘The whole business has hit him a lot harder. He was pretty angry with his dad.’
Mariner sensed she was holding back. ‘And?’
‘Look, don’t read too much into this, but Paul has had his problems in the past. About three years ago he was cautioned for possession of cannabis and he moved from that to the stronger stuff. I think he’s clean at the moment but his dad’s activities haven’t exactly helped the healing process.’
‘Christ. He has a drug habit? Even if he’s not behind this, someone could be using him to get at his father. He wasn’t at home this evening?’
‘No, but as I said, that isn’t unusual. He’s away at university - UCL - he may well have gone back a bit early.’
‘His father tried to contact him earlier today, but his phone was switched off.’
‘Do you want me to see if I can track him down?’
‘I want to know where he is,’ said Mariner.
‘Of course, I’ll talk to Mary and see if she has any ideas.’
‘And any close friends.’
‘Sure. But if you want my honest opinion, I can’t imagine that either of the kids would be caught up in this. Okay, they were angry with their father, but they wouldn’t want to hurt him.’
‘What do you know about Klinnemann’s finances?’
‘Nothing specific. Naturally Mary is threatening to screw him for everything he’s got, and so far she’s hung on to the house and the Freelander. Emma O’Brien sold her flat and the happy couple have moved into a place in Witham, a village just outside the city.’
‘What sort of place is it?’
‘Compared with the family home it’s a pretty modest little cottage, but no property in or around Cambridge is ever cheap.’
‘How much longer has Paul Klinnemann got at uni?’
‘He’s in his final year. You know where Peter Klinnemann works?’
‘We do now, but only because one of the local hacks found out ahead of us. Klinnemann didn’t see fit to mention it. We’ll need to know if there’s been any activity with cells in your area.’
‘I’ve got a couple of people working on it already. They’ll be making a few house calls. There’s nothing yet, but I’ll keep you posted.’
‘Thanks.’
‘And good luck. This is the sort of case none of us wants landed on us.’
Thanking Tunstall again, Mariner rang off.
Following the press conference, the phones in the incident room were red hot. Specially trained officers had been brought in to answer them, weeding out the calls they thought might be significant. Tony Knox was overseeing the evidence gathering process.
‘How’s the house to house doing?’ Mariner asked him.
‘No one saw anything at that time of day. Most people were out at work or picking up kids from school. One lead though. One of the bus drivers on that route has come forward. He drove past at about two forty. He didn’t pick anyone up, but he did stop to allow a woman who was carrying a baby in a car seat to cross the road. It’s about the right time and what little he could remember about her appearance fits with what we’ve already got.’
‘So from that we can gather that she parked, or had transport waiting up at the hospital.’
‘Looks like it, boss. We’ve also isolated what we think is the relevant CCTV footage. And there’s another possible sighting by one of the site workmen of a woman struggling to carry the seat up the hill towards the main hospital car park. He noticed her because she was making heavy weather of it, switching from one arm to the other. He remembered thinking that the poor baby was getting a rough ride.’ Knox took Mariner over to a map of the area that was pinned to the wall beside the whiteboard. ‘It’s most likely that she was going up to the south car park, here.’ He traced the route with an index finger. ‘It’s the nearest one to the nursery.’ Coloured spot stickers littered th
e map, marking the position of the cameras, but there wasn’t one here. ‘It’s a new car park and they haven’t finished installing the system yet, but the building site where the brickie was working, over here, has footage, so we’ve concentrated on the vehicles they picked up coming down the exit ramp at around that time. Do you want to see it?’
‘Let’s give it a look.’
‘Okay. This is the action between two thirty and three thirty. I can’t imagine she’d have wanted to hang around here any longer than necessary.’ Knox played the video, fast forwarding though the quiet patches. ‘This is what we’ve got starting at half past two.’
Mariner stared at the video. For several seconds nothing happened then a dark car proceeded down the ramp, turned into the road and drove off to the right towards the main road. From then on the exiting traffic was intermittent, a couple of cars every minute or so. All the vehicles would need to be traced. The quality of the film was disappointing; grainy and indistinct, and the camera angle meant that apart from a split second before each car rounded the corner, the registration numbers were not in view. It was difficult at first glance even to ascertain the makes of the cars. But Mariner said nothing. The tech team he knew would be able to work wonders with enhancement and may well be able to come up with something.
Meanwhile they could appeal to anyone who may have been in the car park at that time and saw a woman and baby getting into a vehicle, but again they were relying on members of the public to come forward, which took up precious time. Something that they couldn’t really afford.
‘That’s good work,’ Mariner said. ‘But we really need to identify what vehicle she got into, or we’re stuffed. Linking her to a car is the only chance we have of finding out where she went. Anything else?’
‘We’ve talked to the folks Emma O’Brien stayed with last night. They’re old college friends apparently, both of them now doctors. According to them they may have mentioned to a couple of people in the last few days that Emma was coming to stay, but they claim not to have spoken to anyone about the arrangements for Jessica. They didn’t even seem to know anything about the nursery, only that it’s a crèche connected to the hospital, so I’m inclined to believe them.’
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