First One Missing (25 page)

Leanne tried to get back to work, only to find herself going over and over the earlier scene with Desmond where he’d probed her about the newspaper leak. She knew the information hadn’t come from her but she couldn’t help looking around at her fellow officers and wondering what they were thinking. Did they really think she was giving information to the media? What for? Money? The idea of it gave her a tight feeling across her chest and she put her head down to avoid catching anyone’s eye.

When a buzz of noise went up from the other side of the room she stiffened, pretty sure she could guess what lay behind it. Unable to resist glancing up, she saw she was right. Pete had arrived. Catching sight of his dark head across the office set off a physical reaction that travelled from her eyes to her brain to her heart and then outwards from there. She knew exactly how that black hair felt under her fingers, the thick bounce of it. She knew how it looked when he flicked it back out of his eyes, how it tickled her face when he was above her on his elbows …

Leanne switched her eyes abruptly back to the computer screen.

‘You can stop pretending now. We all know you’re not really working.’

He’d come up behind her so close his breath was warm in her ear.

‘Ah, well, that’s where you’re wrong, o ye of little faith.’ She angled the screen so he could see the form she was filling in with its usual unnecessarily complicated layout. She was conscious of his face just inches from hers. If she just turned her head …

She didn’t turn her head.

‘So how are the Reids?’

Pete had dropped into the empty chair at the desk opposite Leanne. His voice was louder now, less intimate. Well, good. Hopefully he’d got the message. He was a father now. Everything was different.

‘They’re pretty shit, as you’d expect. I saw Emma on Monday, and she was … well … Did Desmond tell you …?’

‘About Guy loitering around primary schools? Yeah, he did. This morning. And even if he hadn’t I could always have read about it in the paper.’

Leanne felt her face burning. ‘That wasn’t me. I would never …’

‘Relax. I was winding you up. I know it wasn’t you. But what do you think about Guy? Have you ever had any doubts?’

Leanne shook her head slowly. ‘He’s a bit uptight and can come over a bit full of himself. Plus I think he’s probably clinically depressed, though I’m sure he’d never admit it. But I’ve seen him with his own daughters and with other people’s too and he never gave the slightest indication—’

‘Not that people like that always do. Does Emma know anything’s up?’

‘I don’t think so. Not in that sense anyway. I feel awful though, because she’s convinced herself Guy is seeing someone else. Apparently his secretary let slip he’s been leaving work early. He told her he was working at home, and she put two and two together and made five million. I felt horrible letting Emma carry on tormenting herself when I knew it wasn’t true.’

‘Yeah, but the truth could turn out to be a whole lot worse.’

‘Maybe. But don’t try to downplay how crap it is to find out your husband is cheating on you.’

Why had she said that? And worse, said it in that stupid squeaky voice that he’d recognize immediately as her upset voice.

Pete was staring at her. ‘I wouldn’t downplay it. I’d never—’

Leanne cut him off before he could say anything more. ‘Anyway, I don’t think that’s the only reason Emma’s acting a bit weird. She’s become obsessed with the idea that these hair bobbles are important somehow and she’s furious with us for not doing anything about it.’

She explained to Pete about Tilly’s personal effects, and how Emma was convinced they held the key to the whole case.

Pete’s face softened. ‘I’ve had the same thing with Fiona and Mark. Not about hair stuff but they were sure we’d missed something. One of Leila’s friend’s mums was convinced a kid who’d been doing teacher training at the school had done a suspicious flit, so Fiona and Mark became absolutely certain he was the killer. When we finally traced him, he was teaching English as a foreign language in Thailand.’

Leanne sighed. ‘The hair bands seem to have lodged in her brain and I know I’ve disappointed her by not following it up, but I wouldn’t know where to start. I mean, what do you think?’

Pete ran a hand through his own hair.

‘It does sound like she’s grasping at straws, but then she’s never said anything like this before, has she? Not in two whole years. Why would she start letting her imagination run riot now?’

‘Yes, but
hair bobbles
, Pete? I told Desmond and he just looked at me like I was mad.’

‘But she knows her own child, Leanne. That’s the thing.’

Leanne had to check her phone again then, so that Pete wouldn’t see how much that hurt. Sometimes when she was talking to him, she forgot what had happened before, forgot that he wasn’t hers any more, forgot he’d had a baby with someone else. And then something would happen, like him talking about what parents know with such authority and,
wham
, it hit her all over again. She remembered how it had felt the first time she’d seen him again after the baby – Daisy – had been born, how she’d forced herself to go up to him and congratulate him and asked to see a photograph of her and smiled even though the sight of the tiny creature gazing up at the camera almost tore her heart in two. Ruby had been incredulous afterwards. ‘Why would you do that? What kind of masochist are you?’ But she knew it was something she had to get out of the way so that she could keep her pride and they could both carry on working alongside each other, though thankfully not at the same station most of the time.

‘But what could it mean? Realistically? That this guy, whoever he is, has a fetish about little girls’ hair?’

‘Well, think about it. Let’s suppose Emma is right and Tilly would never in a million years have been wearing mismatched elastics when she got snatched. So, one of her hair thingies comes off somehow. So why doesn’t he just leave it off or, I don’t know, put all her hair in the remaining band, or just not have any at all? Why replace it, and where would he get a replacement from anyway? None of it makes sense.’

She was interrupted by her phone vibrating in her hand. The caller ID said ‘withheld’ and she was just about to dismiss it when something tugged at her memory.

‘Howard Walsh here. Can you talk?’

She looked up at Pete and did a ‘sorry, what can you do’ shrug. He nodded once and got to his feet, giving a small wave before turning away. She saw the new female crime-data analyst track his progress back to his temporary desk with a kind of greedy intensity.

‘Yes, Howard, how are you?’ Too late she remembered he didn’t do small talk.

‘I’ve more news on Nemo.’

Leanne, still preoccupied with Pete who was now perched on his desk, talking to someone on the phone, was having problems remembering what she and the strange, nervy undercover cop had talked about that day on the Heath.

‘Remember my initial contact? The one who told me the group was actively involved in the whole Kenwood case? Well, he now tells me one of the four members is Bobby Jarvis.’

‘You mean
the
Bobby Jarvis?’

‘That’s right, the original Lion of the North.’

Now there was a phrase Leanne hadn’t heard in a long time. Immediately she was transported back to her teenage bedroom in Kent, listening to the radio on interminable Sunday afternoons, the voice of the DJ booming across the airwaves in his broad Yorkshire accent. She could still remember seeing him for the first time on television, with his shock of dyed-blond hair. He’d fallen out of favour after a few years as people like him tended to do. His blokey style of innuendo and low-level misogyny went out of fashion during her teens. She seemed to remember a few seasons in panto and the odd TV appearance but she hadn’t heard anything about him in years. And now, after all this time, after all those children’s TV shows and all those backstage meet-and-greets with young fans, he’d resurfaced in a paedophile ring.

‘How does he know so much – your contact? Is he in the ring himself?’

‘No. But he has some sort of hold over one of the other members – some evidence that would link him to a crime. This guy in the ring is a professional of some sort. Teacher maybe, or lawyer. Something like that. Anyway, he wouldn’t be too keen for anything like that to be made public.’

Leanne didn’t ask Howard what hold
he
had over this contact to make him share his information so freely.

‘They were definitely involved. Nemo, I mean. I’m still not sure how, or to what degree, but at least one of them came into contact with Poppy Glover.’

Leanne glanced over at the board at the other end of the office where Desmond had pinned photographs of the four murdered girls. Even from metres away she could see Poppy Glover’s shy, gap-toothed smile. She shut her eyes.

‘Into contact? In what way?’

‘I still don’t know. Obviously I’ve kept my boss updated but he’s very anxious we don’t do anything to jeopardize our own investigation.’

‘But surely we should at least pick up Bobby Jarvis? We’ve got the semen sample from near Poppy’s body. We could run tests and—’

‘And what if it isn’t him who was there? As soon as you pick him up, Nemo will shut down completely. You’d never trace the others. What if it was one of them?’

‘But we can’t just leave them to carry on. They might be targeting their next victim as we speak. You know the gaps between murders have been getting shorter.’

‘Obviously your guv’nor will have his own views, but I think it’s a risk you’re going to have to take – for now.’

Howard’s voice had grown weary and clipped, as if he was already detaching himself from the conversation. Leanne got the impression he’d only called her because his superiors had told him to keep her in the loop but that he now felt he’d more than discharged his duty. She pictured him fidgeting with his wire-framed glasses while his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down like a gobstopper caught under the thin skin of his throat. She sensed that he was about to hang up and felt a wave of panic.

‘One more thing. Have you ever come across someone called Jason Shields?’

‘No. I don’t think so.’

But Howard Walsh’s quiet, contained voice was even more hesitant than usual.

‘Are you sure?’ Leanne pressed.

‘No. Well, there’s something ringing a bell somewhere but I can’t really be sure.’

‘Could you maybe ask around?’

‘Look, I’m already sticking my neck out asking around about Nemo. I start throwing out other names, I’m going to blow my cover. Three years of work down the drain.’

She felt stupid now and wished she hadn’t opened her big mouth. Howard clearly had her down as some kind of clueless amateur. She’d got the feeling when they’d met that he didn’t much like women. Mind you, maybe he just didn’t like people. Who could blame him after all the things he must have seen.

The call left Leanne feeling unsettled and needing to clear her head. She headed for the women’s toilets, which meant going past Pete’s temporary desk. She saw him look up and deliberately averted her gaze.

In the loo, Leanne discovered her period had arrived. That was all she needed. ‘Give me a break,’ she said out loud. She wondered when she might turn magically into one of those proper women so in tune with their bodies they made a note in their diaries of the dates they were due so they were always prepared, instead of being ambushed by it month after month. Emerging from the cubicle, she glanced at the ancient dispensing machine in the corner. Out of order. How did she guess?

By the time she re-entered the office, she was in a foul temper. Brushing past Pete’s desk again without even a glance, she strode back to her own, snatched up her bag and headed out, pretending not to hear Ruby’s ‘There’s someone waiting—’

In the corridor outside she rifled through the contents of her bag, but though she found plenty of old receipts and dog-eared flyers she’d accepted from people in the streets – she never could walk past an outstretched hand, that was her problem – there was nothing remotely useful. She’d have to nip out for something. It was a right pain. Still, at least it would give her a chance to call Will. There was something she needed to talk to him about – without Ruby and Pete and all the rest listening in. She pressed the green exit button and pushed through the heavy door that led to the reception area, hearing the click as it locked behind her. So intent was she on her mission that she didn’t notice the blonde woman sitting in a chair to the right of the duty officer’s desk.

‘Leanne!’

Leanne liked to think she was a pretty tolerant sort of person, but there were some voices that really grated, and Sally Freeland’s was one of them.

‘I was hoping you’d have time for a coffee. That woman who picked up your phone said you were busy but I thought it was worth hanging around anyway, and here you are!’

Too late Leanne remembered that Ruby had been trying to tell her about someone waiting.

‘Actually, it’s not a good time, Sally. I’ve got something urgent I need to do.’ For a brief moment she considered asking Sally if she had a tampon but thought better of it.

‘Well, I’ll just come along with you to your car.’

Leanne thought about saying no, but she didn’t want to get into a discussion with the journalist in the lobby. After all, she was already under suspicion of passing on information to the press.

‘Free country, I suppose,’ she said, striding on.

As ever it was a shock to step out into the daylight and realize there was a whole world going on outside the police station. Sometimes if you stayed in there too long it was as if that was the only reality there was, and when you thought about the ‘outside’ it was like thinking about the billions of stars and planets in the solar system. You knew they existed in theory but you couldn’t fully believe in them.

‘I really am pushed for time,’ she said as she headed across the forecourt.

‘Oh absolutely. Me too. There simply aren’t enough hours in the day. So I’ll just come straight down to it. I was thinking maybe you and I could do a bit of information sharing. I mean, we all want the same end result, don’t we, to find whoever is doing these terrible killings and stop them? So it makes sense to pool what we know.’