The weather report says that freezing temperatures are on their way in a couple of days. He can wait until then. He has to wait until then because the conditions must be just right before he can carry out his work.
Everything has to be perfect.
The snowfall must be perfect. The temperature must be perfect. The girl must be perfect.
Of all the girls he has considered, Kate looks the most perfect. She looks the most like his original, beloved sleeping angel.
When he ties a red ribbon into her hair and watches it splay out around her face as she lies in cold water, it will almost be as if his sweet Astrid has come back to him.
Especially when Kate’s unseeing eyes stare up at him through a layer of ice.
Chapter 27
“What the hell is this, Summers?” Superintendent Holloway asks as he slams the newspaper down onto his desk. “Is this something to do with you?”
Dani, sitting opposite him, glances at the headline which reads PERVY LANDLORD MAY KNOW WHEREABOUTS OF MISSING GIRL and sighs. It isn’t the most lurid headline she’s read about Rob North today but it’s still bad enough to make her wince inwardly. “Sir, you know I would never speak to the press about anything like this.”
“Really? You might see why I find that hard to believe. You came into this very office a couple of days ago telling me you wanted to question this Rob North chap and now this appears in the paper. Are you trying to force my hand?”
“No, sir, but I think someone is.”
“Who?”
“The woman I met in the Captain’s Table. She pointed out to me that Rob North wasn’t questioned in the initial inquiry. She’s obviously told one of her reporter friends the same thing.”
“Only now there’s a rumour that a camera might have been recording what went on in Caroline Shields’ flat. How the hell was that missed at the time?”
“I don’t know, sir. As you pointed out, it wasn’t my case.”
His face darkens and he points his finger at her. “Don’t get sassy with me, Summers.”
Dani says nothing. The story makes the police look incompetent but if she plays this right, she could turn it to her advantage. The spy camera stuff might amount to nothing but at least it will open a back door for her to investigate the Caroline Shields case. That’s if Holloway doesn’t assign it to another detective out of spite.
“Anyway,” he says, “the unnamed woman who reckons she found a spy camera in her flat hasn’t come to the police about it. Unless she presses charges, we’re not obliged to do anything.”
“Even if there’s a chance the landlord might have some evidence regarding the Caroline Shields case? What if he’s responsible for her disappearance? Can you imagine the media frenzy if we ignore this and it turns out to have some truth behind it?”
Holloway looks worried and Dani knows he’s thinking about how he’s going to look to the press. There’s already a group of journalists outside headquarters and she’s willing to bet there are even more at Northmoor House, trying to get Robert North to say a few words.
“Well what do you suggest?” Holloway says.
“Let me and DS Flowers go round there with a couple of uniforms to pick him up. The uniforms can bring him back to the station while DS Flowers and I execute a search warrant on his flat. We’ll bring back his computer for forensic analysis and any other electronic devices which may contain images or video of Caroline Shields.
“If it comes to nothing and he’s just a peeping tom, then at least we’ll have been seen to have done something. If we find images relating to Caroline, they could help us build that case closer to a conclusion. It’s win-win, sir.”
He mulls that over, nodding slowly. “Yes, I can’t see a downside. All right, Summers, get it sorted and bring this peeping landlord in. I want him in a custody suite by the end of the day.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, getting out of her chair. “Shall we use Scarborough? It’s closest to Whitby.” The building in which they are situated, the North Yorkshire Police Headquarters in Northallerton, has no custody suite. The closest cells are located at Harrogate Police Station. She doesn’t fancy driving almost two hours from Northmoor House to Harrogate when Scarborough Police Station is only forty minutes down the road.
“You sort out the logistics, Summers. Just make sure something good comes out of this one way or another. We can’t have stories like this floating about.” He brandishes the newspaper before throwing it into the bin next to his desk.
“I’m on it, sir.” Dani leaves the office and closes the door behind her before she goes in search of Matt.
Chapter 28
I’m awoken by a commotion outside Northmoor House. A quick glance through the window lets me know Jillian Street’s story has been published. The road outside the house is full of vehicles and there’s a throng of journalists at the main door, some of them banging on it and shouting, “Mister North, are you in there? Would you like to give us your side of the story?” It seems that Rob has locked the door.
There’s a text on my phone from Greg that reads: A couple of news vans were arriving at the house this morning. Wonder what that’s about.
Once Jillian’s story broke, it wouldn’t have taken long for the journalists to make their way over here since most of them were already in town covering the Amy Donovan story anyway. Luckily, Greg left for work before the main herd arrived.
That means I don’t have to explain anything to Greg just yet. In the cold light of day, with the house under siege from the press, I’m beginning to regret talking to Jillian. This is exactly the same thing I had to endure after my story appeared in the Manchester Recorder. I felt afraid and alone, as if I were being hunted by a pack of wolves.
Now, I’ve brought that ravenous wolf pack to someone else’s door.
He deserves it. He spied on you and he spied on Caroline and he’s probably done something much worse than that.
I try to mentally justify my actions but at the moment, with the banging and shouts drifting up from below, it’s difficult. Still, this is the only way to get the police here; they can’t ignore the possibility of new evidence in the Caroline Shields case.
Sitting at my desk, I switch the computer on and check the news. I want to see exactly what Jillian Street published. The headline of the day’s top story shouts at me from the screen.
DOES THIS PEEPING TOM KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO MISSING GIRL?
Beneath the headline, there’s a photo of Rob “looking furtive” as Jillian would put it. He’s actually just unaware that he’s being photographed and is glancing across the parking area as he walks away from his Land Rover.
It’s a totally innocent glance but Jillian’s photographer—who must have been hiding in the back garden—has captured a microsecond of expression which makes it look like Rob is looking into the camera with narrowed, suspicious eyes before he embarks upon some sort of clandestine activity.
The article, which thankfully doesn’t mention my name but describes me as a “worried tenant living in fear,” explicitly states that Rob has been recording the activities of everyone in the flats at Northmoor House. Jillian is taking a gamble with that statement, especially since she knows nothing about any recordings, but I can see why she’s done it; without recordings, the story amounts to nothing.
She then states that “missing girl Caroline Shields” lived in the top floor flat when she vanished and that “the perverted landlord, who has been scarred since childhood after a car accident in Norway and has been shunned by society because of his disfigurement” has recordings of her life, possibly even of “her final moments” that the police will want to see.
Even knowing Jillian’s tendency for hyperbole, the suggestion that Rob has been “shunned by society because of his “disfigurement” is a bit much. If Rob has been shunned by anyone, then surely that’s because of his personality, not the scar on his head.
One thing that interests me in the article is the fact that the car accident
happened in Norway. My curiosity is piqued so I conduct a search on the Net. Using the terms Norway, car accident, Fred North, and Wanda North, reveals only one result in English. The others appear to be in Norwegian. Obviously the accident wasn’t considered newsworthy here and is only mentioned in local reports.
The link takes me to a news article that is published in English as well as Norwegian entitled TWO FEARED DEAD AFTER ACCIDENT AT LAKE. The article is dated December 13th, 2002. There is no photo, and only two blocks of text.
Two people are feared dead after a collision at Lake Femund yesterday. In the late evening, during heavy snowfall, a hired Volvo, driven by Fred North from the United Kingdom as he was returning to his hotel with his family, collided with a Volkswagen driven by Astrid Andersen, 23, from the village of Elgå.
Both cars crashed through the ice and into the lake. Three members of the North family were taken to hospital. Miss Andersen and the North family’s eldest son are believed to be dead. A search for their bodies will begin when the weather clears. The cause of the collision is believed to be ice on the roads coupled with reduced visibility due to heavy snowfall.
Closing the page, I sit back in the chair, feeling a sudden flood of empathy for Rob North. How old would he have been in 2002? Probably eight or nine, possibly ten years old. And he lost his brother on holiday. Just like I did. Like me, he probably feels that he needs someone to blame for his brother’s death, that an accidental verdict is too cruel.
Maybe he blames Astrid Andersen, the woman who was behind the wheel of the other car. Does that rage build up inside him all year until it’s finally released in winter, when the snow reminds him of the accident?
It sounds plausible to me but I’m no psychologist.
A sudden blast of a police siren brings me to the window. A police car is pulling into the parking area, lights flashing, with a dark green Land Rover Discovery close behind. The sirens seemed to be a warning to the journalists, who scatter as the vehicles roll up to the door of the house.
Two uniformed officers get out of the patrol car and DI Summer gets out of the Land Rover along with a man I guess to be another detective. They go to the door and one of the uniformed officers knocks loudly. “Robert North, this is the police. Let us in.”
I leave the flat and go downstairs. If Rob isn’t going to let the police in, then I will. We can’t have them knocking the door down.
When I get downstairs, Ivy has beaten me to it. She’s shuffling to the door and saying, “Just a second.” She reaches up and releases the Yale lock. The police come inside. “He’s in there,” Ivy says, pointing at Rob’s door.
While a uniformed officer knocks on Rob’s door, Di Summers comes over to me. “I want a word with you.”
I nod. “We’d best go up to my flat.”
“Take care of things down here, Matt,” she tells her plainclothes colleague before following me upstairs.
“Would you like a cup of tea or anything?” I ask her as we enter the flat.
“No, thank you. I’m going to need the spy camera you found in your flat, though.”
I take the camera out of my jacket pocket and had it over. She holds it out on her palm, frowning at it. “Was it in this condition when you found it?”
“No, I did that. I was angry at having my privacy invaded.”
She nods understandingly. “And you went to the papers instead of the police because…” She leaves her words dangling in the air between us.
“Because I told you about Rob North not being questioned regarding Caroline and you didn’t do anything about it.”
Holding up the spy camera, she asks, “So did you really find this in your flat or is it a ruse to get us here? Because if that’s the case—”
“It’s nothing like that. I found the camera attached to the window box. He really has been spying on the flat.”
“Do you have any proof that he was doing so when Caroline lived here?”
I shake my head. There’s no need to tell her about the memory cards; the police will find them when they search Rob’s flat.
But there is one more thing I think she should see. I pick the red ribbon up off the coffee table and hand it to her. “This is from his flat. I was looking after my friend’s children and one of them went into the basement flat. He came out with this in his hand.”
She turns it over in her hand. “Has anyone else touched this?”
“Jordan, me, my husband, probably Jordan’s sister.”
She roll her eyes and turns towards the door. “Right, I’ll see if I can get to the bottom of all this.” She pauses at the door and turns back to face me. “I don’t know whether to be mad at you or thank you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t do either just yet,” I tell her.
She nods. “I’ll be in touch.” She goes out into the hallway and closes the door.
I can’t just sit here on my own while all of this is going on. I follow the detective downstairs and get to the ground floor hallway just in time to see Rob being taken out of the main entrance door by the uniformed police. He looks lost and frightened. As soon as the door opens, there’s a flurry of activity outside. Questions are thrown at Rob and cameras flash bright.
DI Summers puts on a pair of latex gloves and goes into Rob’s flat. I go to Ivy’s and find her sitting on her sofa, petting Winston who is curled up in her lap.
“Hello, Ivy,” I say from the door. “Are you all right?”
She looks at me but her face doesn’t brighten as usual. There’s a worried look in her eyes and her mouth is set into a straight line.
“Do you want me to make you a cup of tea?” I ask, going into the flat.
She nods slowly. “Yes, that would be nice. Thank you, dear.”
“Is anything the matter?” I crouch down to that we’re at eye level.
“It’s just all these police and reporters. It reminds me of when we had all that trouble before. When the girl upstairs vanished.”
“Caroline,” I say.
“Yes, Caroline. She was such a pretty thing. Always full of life, you know? And then one day she was gone. Just like that.”
“The police will probably get it all sorted out,” I assure her. “That’s why they’re here.”
Outside, there’s another blast of the siren as the patrol car tries to get past the horde of reporters and cameramen.
“See, they’re taking Rob for questioning,” I tell Ivy.
She tightens her lips and frowns as if trying to remember something. “But he wasn’t here.”
“I know and that’s why they’re questioning him now, because they didn’t do it before. Now, you just relax and I’ll make you a nice cuppa.” I go into the kitchen and put the kettle on. Just as it comes to the boil, all of the electrics go off. The kitchen is plunged into shadows and there’s a sudden silence as the low hum of the fridge dies.
“Bloody hell.” I pour the hot water into the teapot then go into the living room where there’s at least some light coming in through the windows. “That’s just what we need,” I say to Ivy.
Instead of her usual rant, she nods absently.
“Ivy, are you sure you’re all right?”
DI Summers and her colleague walk past the open door with Rob’s computer and a number of cardboard boxes in their hands. I go to the window and watch them load everything into the back of the Discovery. The journalists crowd around them, asking questions and trying to photograph everything.
Ivy hasn’t answered me. She’s staring at the dead TV, a look of confusion on her face. “This isn’t right,” she mutters. “He wasn’t here. He wasn’t here.”
“Who wasn’t here, Ivy?”
“Rob. He wasn’t here.”
“Yes, I know. Rob wasn’t here when the police came around. You told me that before. Don’t worry, it’s all going to be sorted out.”
She shakes her head. “He wasn’t here that night either. The night she was dressed up like Snow White. This isn’t right. They shouldn’t b
e taking him away.”
Her confusion must be contagious because now I don’t know what she’s talking about. “You told me Rob wasn’t here when the police came around asking questions about Caroline. You told them he was dodgy and offered to let them into his flat. Remember?”
“Yes, I remember that. And he is dodgy. Never fixing things when he’s supposed to. Going out at all hours and doing God-knows-what. Not to mention throwing snowballs at cats. But he didn’t do anything to Caroline. He’d never do anything like that. He couldn’t.”
“Ivy, listen to me,” I say, crouching down to her level and taking her cool hand in mine. “Rob has been filming the upstairs flat. He had a camera in the window box recording everything. He took photos of Caroline without her knowing.”
“Yes, he’s a creep,” she says. “I know that. We all know that. But he isn’t anything more than that. He hasn’t got the get-up-and-go to be anything more than that has he? He’s too bloody lazy.”
“Well, the police will get to the bottom of it.” I pat her hand and go back into the kitchen to pour the tea.
As I’m arranging the cups, I hear Ivy mutter to herself. “He wasn’t even here.”
Chapter 29
Dani sits impatiently in the interview room at Scarborough police station next to Matt Flowers. She looks at the two empty seats on the other side of the table and taps her pen on her notebook. Robert North has been conferring with the duty solicitor in a private room for almost an hour now.
She turns to Matt. “What’s taking so bloody long?”
“Got to get his story straight, Guv.”
“He can’t talk his way out of this, no matter how he spins it.” On the table in front of her are a number of pictures printed from memory cards found in Robert North’s desk drawer. They show Caroline Shields in her flat, in the hallway of Northmoor House, and in the parking area. The computer they took from the flat is in the cybercrime unit, waiting to be forensically analysed. Unfortunately it’s in a queue but Dani has enough to go on with the memory card pictures. For now anyway.
The Flat Page 16
