LITMIR.BIZ

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      ‘Ooh. A pimp and a pusher. Maybe we’d best go and have a word?’

      ‘I’ll call down first, see who actually brought him in. Don’t want to go stepping on toes as soon as I get my foot back in the door, do I?’

      Jane laughed.

      ‘What, you going soft in your old age, boss?’ Dave asked, looking up from Rosie’s laptop.

      ‘I suppose you’ve never heard of old age and treachery, Dave.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘It always beats youth and skill.’ Jane grinned. ‘Not that you’ve got that much youth on your side.’

      ‘Oi!’ He hit a key on the laptop and sat back abruptly in his chair. ‘Gotcha. I’ve got into this thing though.’

      ‘Well, she didn’t keep a paper diary,’ Pete said. ‘So if there’s going to be anything to indicate she was unhappy at home or at school, it should be on there. What did Becky Sanderson have to say?’

      ‘She’s not aware of anything wrong in Rosie’s life, boss. No bullying, cyber or otherwise. Apparently, she’s quite the girl to be seen with. A leader, not a follower. Not a bad girl though. Good grades, into sports, friendly. An all-round nice kid. She just didn’t turn up at school today. No phone call, no text, no nothing. And it’s not something she’s done before. Not her style at all. She’s too conscientious.’

      ‘Boyfriends?’

      ‘Not that Becky’s aware of. And you saw her parents’ reaction to the idea.’

      The phone on Pete’s desk rang and he picked it up. ‘DS Gayle.’

      ‘This is DS Parker from Middlemoor. Communications. I gather you need a phone tap set up?’

      ‘Ah. Yes. Possible kidnap. Seems unlikely, but we’ve got to cover all bases. The address is in St Leonard’s. My DC’s been there. She can go with you and give you the intro, if you pick her up from here.’

      ‘Right. We’ll be there in twenty.’

      He put the phone down and Jane was looking at him, eyebrows raised. ‘Nice of you to volunteer me, boss.’

      ‘I didn’t. Fast-track did. I just forgot to tell you. It shouldn’t take long if you go in your car. Just lead them round there, introduce them, then you can scoot off.’

      ‘What about all this?’ She indicated the paperwork on her desk, her notebook, computer and phone.

      ‘There’s only so much we can do tonight,’ he said. ‘I’ll stay and carry on. What about you, Dave?’

      ‘I’m all right. I can stop as long as it needs.’

      ‘Right. Between the two of us, what we can do at this time of day won’t take too long.’

      ‘OK. Thanks, then, boss.’ She got up, picked up her coat and bag and headed for the door. ‘Goodnight.’

      ‘’Night, Red,’ Dave called, closing Rosie’s computer down and setting it aside. ‘So, what else do we need to do, boss?’

      ‘Well, when you’ve done with that thing, there’s the parents’ alibis to check, you could carry on down this list of contacts or see who we’ve got in the area in the way of known paedophiles and check on them.’

      ‘Right. Lovely.’

      ‘Meantime, I’ll see about Stephen Lockwood.’ He slid the list across to Dave, picked up the phone and dialled an internal number.

      ‘Custody desk. Sergeant James.’

      ‘Bob. Pete Gayle. You’ve got a guest down there, Stephen Lockwood. Who was his AO?’

      ‘Hello, Pete. How you doing? Hold on, I’ll find out for you.’

      Pete waited, hearing the tapping of a keyboard behind James’ heavy breathing. ‘Here we are. The man himself. Jim Hancock. Why? What’s up?’

      ‘Oh, I might have a connection with another case. I’ll talk to you later.’

      ‘Cheers, Pete.’

      He ended the call and dialled again.

      ‘DS Hancock.’

      ‘Jim, it’s Pete.’

      ‘Hello. You still in the office?’

      ‘Yeah. Looking into this missing girl. Thing is, I’ve got a crossover between that case and one of your arrestees from this morning. A Stephen Lockwood. He’s a known associate of the father of my victim’s best friend. Do you mind if I have a word with him? Not as a suspect or anything, just a possible witness.’

      ‘He’ll want something in return, mate. I’d bet on it.’

      ‘If so, what can I offer him?’

      Jim sucked in air. ‘He’s a prime player, Pete. He’s going down this time, so the cupboard’s bare unless he can give us his international connections as well as what you want.’

      ‘Oh, well. I’ll have a go anyway, if that’s all right.’

      ‘Sure. Go for it. Just don’t hold out too much hope, eh?’

      ‘Fair enough. See you tomorrow.’

      He put the phone down again and got up from his desk. ‘Right, I’m off to the dungeons.’

      Dave looked up from his screen. ‘There’s nothing on her laptop to indicate anything amiss.’

      ‘OK. That was quick.’

      ‘We aim to please, boss.’

      Pete headed for the door, the squad room almost empty now, with the day shift nearly all gone.

      Downstairs, he signed into the custody suite and let the fat, wheezing middle-aged sergeant lead him along the narrow corridor between the cells. He stopped at one about a third of the way along on the left, shot the steel shutter on the hatch and peered in, then inserted the key and turned it. ‘There you go.’

      ‘Thanks, Bob.’

      Pete stepped in and the door clanged shut behind him. ‘Hello, Stephen. DS Gayle.’

      Lockwood was in his mid-thirties with long, straggly brown hair and skin that looked like it had needed a wash since soap was invented. He stared blankly up at Pete from the built-in bed at the back of the cell, where he slouched indolently.

      ‘What do you want?’

      ‘I gather you’re a pal of Neil Sanderson’s.’ Pete leaned against the wall, just inside the door and folded his arms.

      ‘Don’t know him.’

      ‘Yes, you do. I’m not involved in the drugs thing. His daughter’s a friend of a girl who’s gone missing. I want to know if he’d be involved in something like that. As far as you know.’

      ‘What? Kiddy-fiddling? I don’t know nothing about that.’

      Pete sighed. ‘I didn’t say you did, did I? I want to know if Neil Sanderson might, that’s all.’

      ‘Then why don’t you ask him?’

      ‘Because I don’t like being lied to, Stevie. And if he was involved, that’s what he’d do, isn’t it? Lie to me.’

      Lockwood laughed. ‘You’re in the wrong job, ain’t you? If you don’t like being lied to.’

      ‘I don’t like it. Doesn’t mean I can’t see it when it happens. Or that I won’t do something about it.’

      ‘Well, screw you, piggy. I ain’t telling you anything. And that’s no lie.’

      ‘So, you’d rather see a paedophile get away with it than talk to me?’

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