HE WILL FIND YOU an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist

by Charlie Gallagher

  ‘No.’ Harry cut in with his usual decorum. Maddie glared at him and Mrs Knight spun to his gruff voice. ‘If he’s at work we might get him into trouble,’ he said. ‘We need to head over to Langthorne anyway. We can pop in on him on the way past.’

  ‘Well, okay then. 38b Marshall Street is his home address. That’s in Langhorne, like I said. His is the top flat, the right-side door. You’ll know what I mean when you see it. He works most days though.’

  ‘That’s great, thank you.’

  ‘And when you speak with him, could you ask him to give me a call? There’s little point me calling him anyway — he never picks up to me. I’ve lost count of the amount of voice messages that have gone unanswered. You’re welcome to try calling him yourself of course.’ Mrs Knight turned her phone screen towards Maddie displaying Jack’s number. Maddie noted it down and nodded.

  ‘That’ll be useful if he’s not at work. Thank you. I assume you may not be the right person to ask about his associates then? Any mates? A girlfriend maybe?’

  Mrs Knight chuckled as she shook her head. ‘Well, normally I wouldn’t have the faintest clue, but I did get someone up here a day or so ago. He said he was a friend, but I didn’t recognise him. I used to know a few of his school mates — they’d turn up with Jack after school and I’d be expected to feed them! I never minded — good kids generally. Jack is, too. A good kid, I mean. He’s never been in any real trouble. He had a little run in with the police, but it was a minor thing — boys being boys, as they say. I think he got a fine and a ticking off.’

  ‘What did his friend want when he came up here?’

  ‘I don’t know really. He struck me as an odd fella. Quite a bit older than Jack. I got the impression he was a bit of a chancer rather than a friend. Like he wanted something from Jack. I’m not sure how he knew to come here. I mean he was nice enough but sometimes you just get something behind a smile, you know what I mean?’

  ‘I think I do, Mrs Knight. What did he look like?’

  ‘Tall. Older, like I said — more than thirty. White, clean-shaven, a woolly hat pulled right down — it was almost covering his eyes! Black coat. It wasn’t a very cold day . . . he didn’t look like he was dressed for the weather. That’s all I can tell you, I’m afraid. I only talked to him through the crack in the door.’

  ‘Did you give him Jack’s address?’

  ‘No. He didn’t ask for it either. He just said that when I see Jack, I should tell him that his friend from the café was asking after him. He said Jack would know what that meant. Like I said, he was an odd fella.’

  ‘And no girlfriend that you know of for Jack?’

  ‘Not that I know of. Sometimes he hints that he’s seeing someone, but I guess the mother is usually the last to know. Jack has always been a bit . . . shy? He can be awkward around girls. A lot of lads are, I suppose, all those hormones flying around and no idea how to quieten them down long enough to just say hello! He could do with meeting someone nice, someone who understands him. He’s a nice lad. He’ll be a good husband to someone one day.’

  Maddie nodded. ‘I’m sure you’re right. Thanks again for your time.’

  Langthorne was around twenty-five minutes from the address in Littlebourne. The car park at the superstore took half the time again to negotiate and Harry’s pace through the front door suggested to Maddie that he was running low on patience. Jamie Dunn, the shift supervisor, was not about to appease him any. He was pointed out by a hassled-looking woman at the cigarette kiosk and, despite Harry calling him directly, he continued his walk towards the rear of the store. Harry strode after him and Maddie followed. The man’s head was turned slightly to one side, there was no doubt he had heard the call. Harry didn’t call him again. Instead he followed him silently towards a set of blue double doors with a thick plastic lip running horizontally across its middle. Jamie pushed one open, keeping it in his hand as he turned.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘You could have helped me all the way back there.’ Harry stepped in a little too close to emphasise his point.

  ‘Sorry? I didn’t realise you wished to speak with me. We’re very busy as you can see. Any staff member can help you.’

  ‘I need to speak to the shift supervisor.’

  ‘Okay then.’ Jamie sighed and he looked expectant.

  ‘I’m looking for Jack Knight. I need to speak with him, please. I shouldn’t need to keep him for long.’

  Jamie now looked Harry up and down, then his eyes shifted to do likewise with Maddie. ‘Who are you? Are you the police?’

  Harry took out his warrant card. ‘Yes.’

  ‘I should have known. I see enough of you people. Is Jack in trouble?’

  ‘No, not that we know of. I just need to speak with him for a minute or two. Is he here?’

  ‘No. He didn’t come in this morning, nor did his bloody girlfriend. That’s why we’re so busy, I was two tills down before we even started.’

  ‘Is he unwell?’

  Jamie shrugged. ‘You tell me. I get the impression he doesn’t want the job, put it that way. I’m very close to making that wish come true.’

  ‘So he didn’t call in?’

  ‘Hasn’t yet.’

  ‘Is that normal for him?’

  ‘He doesn’t miss many days. He can be a few minutes late and his work ethic is not of someone pulling up trees for me, but I’d come to think I could at least rely on him to turn in. More fool me.’

  ‘And his girlfriend . . . she works here too?’

  ‘She does.’

  ‘What’s her name?’

  Jamie hesitated. ‘What’s this about again?’

  ‘It’s just a check on his welfare.’

  ‘What makes you think you need to check on that?’

  ‘Well, he hasn’t turned up for work for one thing.’

  Jamie seemed to recognise that he wasn’t getting much more out of Harry. ‘Alyssa. She’s Alyssa Mills.’

  ‘And do you have contact details for her?’

  Jamie took hold of the door. ‘I do. They’re in the office. I’ll warn you though . . . I’ve tried them both this morning and all I’m getting are two phones that are switched off.’

  Alyssa’s home address was walking distance from her place of work and in a row of sturdy, brick-built Victorian townhouses looking out over the central bus depot. The traffic noise was a constant din and the pavements busy with passing people.

  Maddie waited for Harry to finish on the phone. He’d put a call into Mitch Evans in the Major Crime office. He was their civilian investigator and the one person you could always rely on to be at his desk. Harry had asked for the picture of Jack Knight to be sent to his email so he could access it on his mobile phone. Alyssa Mills was not known. He asked for a social media trawl to commence on her, that way they would have photos of both and know who they were looking for.

  When he finally lowered his phone, Maddie pushed open a gate that squeaked as if in complaint. The communal entrance was up a few steps. The noise of a passing diesel engine seemed to be even louder now they were elevated above it. There were three doorbells in a row. The top and bottom bell had neatly typed surnames. The middle one was handwritten in blue ink that seemed to have run in the rain. It looked close enough to Mills for Maddie to hold it in. She counted to five as she did so. She wanted any occupants to be sure that they needed to answer. No one did. This time Maddie counted to ten before letting go. It seemed to have the desired effect.

  ‘What THE FUCK!’ It was a man’s voice, angry, slurred, and from directly above. Maddie turned to Harry, who was already stepping back from under the cover of the vaulted overhang.

  ‘Could you buzz us in, please,’ he said. ‘And there’s no need for the profanity now, is there?’

  Maddie heard a thump. She guessed it was the sound of a window being slammed shut. ‘Maybe you could pick him up on his language when we’re through the door?’ she said.

  ‘I like to set expectations.’r />
  Maddie’s expectations were met in the next couple of minutes when no one appeared at the front door. ‘I’m not sure he’s coming down to let us in after all,’ she said. She leaned back on the bell, this time she had no intention of letting it go. Harry stepped back again, his face angled up towards where the voice had come from. Maddie had nearly counted to sixty when the communal door was suddenly wrenched inwards.

  The man on the doorstep was out of breath. His chest rose and fell, moving an off-white vest as it did so. He was also in a pair of tracksuit bottoms but his feet were bare. He had short, greasy curls on the top of his head that looked to be thinning out. His cheeks were flushed a bright red and the same colour also featured in the whites of both his eyes.

  ‘I don’t want anything! Nothing of what you’re selling. Now FUCK OFF!’ He leaned forward, his vest pulled apart where his arms were stretched to grip the door surround. Harry lifted his badge.

  ‘Swear in my company again and the only thing I’ll offer you is a night in the cells. On me.’ Harry stepped forward and into a stand-off. The man blocking the door grinned. It was sudden and looked almost manic. Maddie could smell the sickly sweet scent of consumed alcohol, even from her position further back. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing it out or it was emitting from his pores. She decided it was likely both. He looked to be struggling to focus. Maddie considered that his stance might not be so much an attempt to block the door as to keep himself upright. He pushed off it and stepped backwards. His turn away was clumsy. He stumbled on the bottom step of the stairs that were almost directly behind him and started making his way up. He was laughing, too. It sounded forced — certainly there was nothing to be laughing at. She stepped in behind Harry and they followed the man up.

  When they got to the landing, the front door of a flat hung open. Maddie walked into a long hall. The room at the end of this was the living room and she entered to find the man was already lying on a sofa. He was on his side, his back to her and his attention on a television by the window. There was little else in the way of furniture or belongings in the room. The light was lower up here. The bay window would overlook the street, but it had a curtain pulled roughly across. Maddie walked over to it and pulled it open. The resulting daylight wasn’t strong by any means, but it was enough for the man to squint and complain.

  ‘What the hell did you do that for? Close the curtains down would you?’

  He gestured towards her like he was blinded. His attention remained on the television anyway. A game show was playing, the room filled with the sound of audience laughter and a jingle that seemed even louder.

  ‘Are you Alyssa Mills’s dad?’ Maddie said. She was aware that Harry was moving around in the flat. She had seen him in her peripheral vision a couple of times as he crossed the hallway. She got no reply. The TV remote was on the bare, wooden floor near where his hand trailed from the sofa. She picked it up and clicked the TV off completely. He looked at her instantly. ‘Alyssa Mills,’ she said again.

  ‘Alyssa! My princess!’ the man chuckled. He sat up slowly, his hand lifted to his head. He was still squinting.

  ‘So you’re Mr Mills?’

  ‘You, my love . . . you can call me Kevin. I like it when people call me Kevin. No formalities here, the world’s got too many formalities.’

  ‘Kevin. Is Alyssa here?’

  ‘Alyssa. She’s a free spirit that one. She comes and goes as she pleases.’ Harry appeared at the back of the room and shook his head.

  ‘When did you see her last?’

  ‘She comes and goes does that one.’

  ‘Last night . . . Was she here last night?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Does she normally stay here at night?’

  ‘Not when she can help it. Not anymore.’ He started to search the area around the sofa for something then tutted. ‘I think I might be out of supplies. Can you believe it? Alyssa’s a good girl. I’ll get her to bring me some supplies back from work. She works at the shop, see? Handy!’

  ‘So when did you see her last?’

  The man shrugged again. He tapped his pockets then pulled out a carton of cigarettes. He took three attempts to light one. ‘All blends into one, love. We don’t get on so well. Alyssa’s a little ashamed of her old man, see?’ He expelled smoke in a chuckle. ‘Can’t blame her for that.’ The man’s attention moved to where Harry walked round the front of the sofa. His smile fell away. ‘Look out! Here’s the big man!’

  ‘You haven’t once asked if she’s okay . . . why we’re here.’ Harry’s bassy tone seemed to fill the space.

  Kevin seemed to consider this for a moment. Then he shrugged. ‘You would tell me if there was anything up, right? A strong girl that one.’

  ‘She’s had to be, I’d guess,’ Harry said.

  ‘Do you have any pictures of her?’ Maddie asked. ‘Of Alyssa. So we know what she looks like?’

  The man shrugged again. ‘An angel!’ he beamed. ‘Looks just like a fallen angel, that one.’

  ‘So no pictures?’ Maddie said.

  The man tapped gently on his temple. ‘All up here, love. All the time.’

  Harry had already moved to the door. ‘Come on, we’re wasting our time here.’

  The next waste of time was waiting for them at the end of a ten-minute drive to Marshall Street at the top end of the town. They knew Jack Knight’s flat was accessed by the right-hand door of two that were directly next to each other. Jack’s door had lighter colour bricks around it and Maddie assumed it was the more recent addition as part of adapting the terraced house into two flats. The door itself, however, looked to have seen far more years. The blue paint on its surface was peeling away in chunks. It was gone completely around the handle, leaving just an off-white patch where the peeling had been hastened along by daily contact. There was no answer to ringing the bell or to their knocking on the door. It was the same story when Maddie tried the smarter looking, white UPVC door next to it. Bending to peer through Jack’s letterbox revealed nothing more than the first few steps that would lead up to the flat above. They tried a few more doors either side and, despite a couple being answered, their questions about Jack and his whereabouts drew a complete blank.

  They did at least manage to get an update on one of their outstanding lines of enquiry — PNC showed a green Vauxhall Astra car registered to him at this address. It was parked outside. Its appearance was every bit as battered and dejected as the registration date of eighteen years earlier might suggest. It was locked. There was nothing on show through the windows of any relevance. Harry marked the tyres and took a picture of its position so they would know if it had moved. He also called through to Mitch to request ANPR movements for the last month to be sent to him, and for it to be added to a live database so he would know of any activations.

  The expressions of the two detectives were every bit as dejected as the ageing hatchback by the time they sat back in the car to return to the station.

  ‘We could really do without wasting a whole morning at this point in an investigation,’ Maddie moaned.

  Harry looked thoughtful. He seemed to be fixed on Jack’s car as she drove away.

  ‘Nothing’s ever wasted,’ he said.

  Chapter 18

  It was almost midday by the time Maddie arrived back at Canterbury. Harry had been silent for most of the journey back. This wasn’t unusual for him, a fairly regular occurrence in fact, but recently it had felt different. Maddie decided that there was more he needed to talk about.

  ‘You okay, Harry?’

  Harry reacted as if he had been snapped out of a trance. ‘Sure! I was just thinking . . . about where we go next.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘And I don’t know. I want to go through the ABE interview from Jarod Logan’s girlfriend, see if anything more came out of it that we might be able to use.’

  ‘Makes sense.’ Harry had insisted that Sharon Oaks’s statement was taken using a video interview as a method. Known as an ‘A
BE’, Achieving Best Evidence, it was common practice in Major Crime inquiries as it often did just that. A written statement could be very dry and it often had a slant to it provided by whichever police officer was taking the account. This might be an unconscious slant, but it was there all the same. Harry liked to try and engage or watch them in a natural conversation. He liked them to forget themselves, to forget where they were and to whom they were talking. Maddie couldn’t argue with the benefits.

  ‘Then, I think we should put the two kids out as high-risk mispers.’

  ‘Both?’ Maddie was a little surprised. Nominating someone as a high-risk misper meant creating a list of standard, fast-track actions that would immediately be tasked to their uniform Response colleagues. These would include searching the home address, speaking to next of kin, monitoring social media, and visiting known associates and places frequented — much of what Harry and Maddie had already done. But once someone was a high-risk misper, these checks were repeated as often as possible and at different times of the day. It was labour intensive and their uniform colleagues wouldn’t thank them for making the decision lightly. There were other time-consuming components, too, such as checks with the missing person’s bank and mobile phone company to see what was being accessed and where; these would be carried out by detectives in Major Crime. Some of these were very intrusive, breaching a number of human rights, and needed top-end authorisation. Maddie considered that they might just about be able to justify the nomination for Jack, she was far less sure about his possible girlfriend.

  ‘Yes, both. Why not?’

  ‘From what I understand we have a patch of blood out in the rural that is a ninety-nine percent match to Jack. It’s not a lot of blood either, not enough to suggest he’s in serious trouble, and now we can’t find him. Alyssa is just his girlfriend.’

  ‘Who we can’t find either.’

  ‘Who we can’t account for. She doesn’t know we’re looking for her. We can’t say that she’s missing. No one else has flagged her up as such.’

  ‘We’ve met her father. I imagine the only time he notices her missing is when his drink runs out.’