LITMIR.BIZ

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to provide us with the CCTV footage from his Portakabin,’ Claire said.

      Matthews then jumped in, standing up to address the team. He scratched the back of his head as he read from a sheet of paper in his other hand.

      ‘Uniform has conducted a house-to-house in the area where Nola was believed to have been seen last and from the houses around the lake. DC Harper will be leading another round of interviews, with DC Roberts.’ He looked up at Claire, who was leaning up against a table opposite him, arms folded. She nodded for him to continue.

      ‘I’ve got more CCTV footage to start trawling through from the town centre and from the shops below Grant’s flat. The chippy and newsagent both have cameras inside and outside their premises, but I also found this an hour ago,’ he said.

      He held up a grainy black-and-white 10x8 shot of part of the town centre. A date and time were stamped across the bottom and judging by the angle and neon sign, it was taken from a CCTV camera opposite a McDonald’s.

      The last time Nola Grant was seen alive.

      The street was virtually empty with only four people, grainy shadows almost, in the frame. There were more people in the McDonald’s itself, but all Claire could see at that angle was the bottom of their legs through the glass window.

      There was a car parked outside but the number plate was obscured and the picture was of such bad quality, she couldn’t correctly identify the make and colour, or anything else.

      ‘What am I meant to be looking at, Matthews?’

      He grinned. She’d studied the photo briefly and missed what had caught his eye instantly.

      ‘This guy here,’ he said. She followed his finger across the photograph and squinted. Matthews then circled a few copies amongst the team. They stared at the photograph.

      Leaning up against the wall of the McDonald’s, which led down a side alley, was a black smudge, which, after closer inspection, they all recognised as a man.

      ‘Can you tell me who he is?’ Claire said.

      Matthews shook his head.

      ‘No name, but he was noticed by two witnesses, employees at that McDonald’s. They say they saw him hanging around Nola in the week leading up to her disappearance. Nola was a regular in there, the two guys knew her. They said the last time they saw her was when she got into a car the night she went missing, and this guy,’ he said, pointing at the figure again, ‘ran after the vehicle, before giving up and getting in his car… Which happens to be this one here.’

      He pointed to the parked car in the photo, the one with the obscured plate.

      ‘Here are their statements,’ he added, handing them across to Claire. ‘I know what you’re going to ask and the answer is no.’ He leaned back against his desk. ‘They can’t remember the make, model, colour or even a partial plate number of the man’s car… or a decent description of the man, except that he wore a black-and-red checked hooded jacket with a baseball cap. Usually with the jacket hood pulled up over the cap, obscuring his face.’

      Claire eyed him carefully then looked back at the man in the photo.

      ‘Let me get this straight… Two people both notice a man tailing Nola. Notice enough to know a man chased after a car she got into on the last night she’s seen alive, but neither of them have any real description of this man’s face, height, colour? Nothing on his vehicle?’

      Matthews shrugged. ‘They serve a lot of customers, and they said they didn’t think it relevant. Apparently it’s not the first time Nola’s had admirers. Maccy D’s is very busy, Claire, sea of faces and all that. Fast food, fast paced. Their story sounds credible.’

      ‘What about the other car, the one she got into?’

      ‘We picked it up on CCTV on the first of November, same spot.’ Matthews turned towards Detective Constable Jane Cleaver. ‘Jane?’

      Everybody turned to face Jane as she spoke.

      ‘The last car Nola got into was a silver E-Class Mercedes, registered to forty-five-year-old Kenneth Philips, of 92 Magenta Drive, Stevenage.’

      Jane accessed the CCTV footage and resumed playback. The LCD screen at the front of the room changed to show grainy footage, taken across the street from the McDonald’s.

      Everyone watched the mystery man from the photograph Matthews had shown them. He was looking at Nola from the side of the McDonald’s, before running across the road after a car as it pulled off. The footage offered no further help in terms of a description of the man.

      They watched him go to his parked car, sitting almost out of the shot, and hoped that as he drove off, they could pull a plate from the grainy footage.

      Claire spoke first. ‘Could anyone make that out?’

      Everyone muttered a negative.

      Stefan shook his head. ‘Footage is too grainy, lighting’s bad. I think I could make out an R and maybe a five and even that I wouldn’t swear to. I’ll get image enhancement to have a look at it.’

      Claire jabbed a finger towards the screen. ‘I want the other cameras in the area checked. Find this man’s car. Get me a number plate, if he’s not using fake ones. Which direction does he head in? Find him.’

      She looked back at Jane. ‘Does this Kenneth Philips have any previous convictions?’

      ‘One speeding conviction last year and a history of unpaid parking tickets.’

      ‘Kenny came in voluntarily this morning,’ said Harper, ‘although he seemed more concerned that his wife would find out about his night-time activities than the fact he was the last person to see Grant before she was murdered.’

      There were a few raised smiles and knowing glances.

      ‘Aren’t they always,’ Claire said. ‘Carry on, Harper.’

      ‘Kenny picked Nola up and took her down the side street next to the Wickes warehouse in Haverbridge industrial area. After about an hour in his back seat, he dropped her off.’

      ‘You showed him the shots of the man chasing his car? Did he say if Nola recognised him?’

      Harper shook his head. ‘Apparently Grant barely looked at the guy. She told Kenny she had no idea who he was. It was then that Kenny started worrying about the fact this could make the papers, then his wife would know what he’d done. He said he should’ve forgotten the whole thing and dropped her off when he’d had the chance.’

      ‘Did he provide a description of the man?’ Stefan asked.

      Harper shook his head. ‘Not really,’ he said, passing the statement to Claire.

      She read over it as Harper continued. ‘He says he was looking through his wing mirror so he didn’t see a great deal. It was dark and raining. He gave the same description as what we’ve seen in the footage.’

      ‘He thinks he could be about five-eight, average build, but he was wearing a thick coat, so he could’ve been thinner,’ Claire said, skimming over the statement. ‘Mr-fucking-average. He’s like any other man on the street.’

      She turned to Matthews.

      ‘Matthews, check the CCTV footage in Haverbridge industrial area, concentrating on the Wickes warehouse and Turner Street. That’s where Kenny says he dropped her off.’

      ‘Yes, Guv, but I don’t think there’s any cameras down Turner Street.’

      ‘You’ll be able to pick him up around that area.’ She looked back at the photograph of the shadowy figure. ‘If he is our man, he’s taking risks, being sloppy, out in the open like this… Have this circulated to the local press. See if we can’t draw in any more eye witnesses. Right now he’s a person of interest.’

      ‘First mention of Nola’s death has already gone to the local news,’ said

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