‘Of course I’m sure. Why on earth would I have misfiled it deliberately?’
‘And what about Mr Tanner?’ Vogel asked. ‘Did he know about the letter?’
‘I shouldn’t think so,’ replied Hardcastle, guarded now.
‘This is what I really need to know, Mr Hardcastle. Did you tell your employer about Charlie Mildmay’s letter, and if so when did you tell him?’
Vogel could almost see the wheels turning inside Hardcastle’s head as he tried to second-guess what Henry Tanner may or may not have told Vogel. He allowed the silence to drag on for an uncomfortably long time before chivvying him for an answer.
‘Come on, Mr Hardcastle, it’s a simple enough question. Did you tell Henry Tanner about the letter, and if so when did you tell him?’
Hardcastle shifted in his seat and was finally opening his mouth to reply when the door to the video room opened. Hardcastle closed his mouth again.
Vogel swivelled in his armchair to see a young uniformed constable standing in the doorway looking embarrassed. As well he might, thought Vogel irritably. Hardcastle’s next words could have been crucial. Thanks to the interruption, he’d now been given extra thinking time.
‘What is it?’ the DI barked.
‘Your boss wants to talk to you right away, sir,’ said the constable, colouring slightly. ‘He’s on the phone in our super’s office.’
‘Can’t you see I’m conducting an interview?’ snapped Vogel. ‘Tell your super I’ll be there as soon as I’ve finished.’
The constable stood his ground. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I was told to tell you straight away, and that you were to stop whatever you were doing and go to the super’s office at once.’
Vogel turned back to Hardcastle. Was it his imagination or was the man smirking? There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. He had an inkling it was no accident that this interview had been interrupted.
‘Wait here,’ said Vogel. It was all he could do to restrain himself from pointing an admonishing finger at Stephen Hardcastle. Turning to DC Lowe, he added: ‘And you stay with him.’
Hardcastle shrugged, then leaned back in his chair and stretched out his long legs to make himself more comfortable. Complacent bastard, thought Vogel as, with rising misgivings, he allowed himself to be led to the office of Lockleaze police station’s chief officer. The superintendent was on the phone to Reg Hemmings; with only the briefest of preliminaries he handed the phone to Vogel and left the room.
Hemmings came straight to the point: ‘I am afraid I have to ask you to cease questioning Henry Tanner and Stephen Hardcastle, at least for the time being,’ said the DCI.
Vogel was stunned. Reg Hemmings was a senior officer he had come to respect, even to like. He had a feeling this telephone conversation might change that. Although he’d realized something serious was afoot the moment the young copper interrupted the video interview, he hadn’t been expecting anything like this. It was, in Vogel’s experience, unprecedented.
‘Can I ask why, boss?’ he asked, fighting to keep his voice level.
‘You can ask, but I can’t tell you,’ replied Hemmings. ‘This is an order from on high. Even I don’t know what’s going on. Neither of us have the clearance, old boy.’
‘Boss, a child is missing,’ persisted Vogel. ‘You’re the SIO and I’m your deputy. Your hands-on man. I must have the freedom to pursue my enquiries as I see fit.’
‘Under normal circumstances that would be absolutely the case,’ responded Hemmings. ‘But these, apparently, are not normal circumstances. We are wallowing in murky waters, I was told, whatever the heck that means.’
‘So I can’t speak to either of these two men in the pursuance of my enquiries into an extremely serious and possibly life-threatening incident involving an eleven-year-old child,’ Vogel continued. ‘Is that what you’re telling me, boss?’
‘I’m afraid I am, Vogel. For now, anyway.’
‘But that’s outrageous, sir. The child’s life may be at a stake—’
‘Hold on, Vogel, hold on,’ Hemmings interrupted. ‘The brass are aware of that. They’re sending somebody from London who does have the necessary “clearance” to deal with these people.’
‘Well, isn’t that good of them!’
‘Sarcasm is not going to help, Vogel,’ said Hemmings.
Vogel ignored that. ‘So are you still SIO on the case?’
‘Only until the brass from London arrives.’
‘And what about me? Am I no longer deputy SIO?’
‘That depends on London,’ responded Hemmings. ‘I’m surprised at you, Vogel. I didn’t have you down as the type to be paranoid about his own rank and standing.’
Vogel glowered at the telephone receiver in his hand.
‘I do need to know where I stand, sir,’ he said. ‘I mean, am I still on the case? Or isn’t there any case any more? Are we backing off and leaving this little lad to his fate, whatever that is, because we don’t have the “clearance” to find him?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Vogel,’ said Hemmings. ‘This force will continue to make every effort possible to find the missing boy and bring to justice whoever might be responsible for his disappearance. We will both continue to work the case until London arrives. We just have to lay off Tanner, that’s all. What’s more you will work with whoever arrives from London in whatever capacity is required. Is that clear, Detective Inspector Vogel?’
Hemmings didn’t often raise his voice. Vogel was therefore taken aback when his superior officer bellowed the last sentence down the phone. Involuntarily moving the telephone an inch or two from his ear, he replied, ‘Yes, sir, absolutely clear, sir.’
Then he left the superintendent’s office, inwardly seething but trying desperately to maintain the appearance of being unperturbed.
Twelve
The moment his video interview was over, Henry Tanner had left the police station and ducked into the limited privacy offered by a doorway down the road to make a series of calls on his mobile. One was to his personal driver, Geoff Brooking, asking him to bring the Bentley as fast as he could.
The nature of the other calls was such that Henry did not anticipate having to wait long for Stephen Hardcastle to join him. So when Geoff arrived he ordered him to park illegally across the road from the station. Sure enough, Hardcastle emerged moments later.
‘In the nick of time,’ he said, as he climbed into the back seat alongside Henry. ‘If you’ll excuse the pun.’
Henry Tanner ignored the remark, regarding Stephen with neither interest nor enthusiasm. ‘Detective Inspector David Vogel was always going to be the least of our problems,’ he said. ‘The man’s a minnow.’
‘You saw him off, anyway, Henry,’ said Stephen.
Tanner fixed him with a stare. ‘I hardly think this is a moment for us to feel pleased with ourselves, Stephen,’ he said coldly. ‘My younger grandson is still missing. My wife and daughter are distraught. My granddaughter is in pieces and my elder grandson is barely holding himself together. This is the biggest crisis ever to face this family. Have you forgotten that, Stephen?’
‘No, no, of course not, Henry,’ said Stephen, mortified. He was used to being put in his place by Henry. That didn’t necessarily make the experience any less unpleasant. But he had to acknowledge that on this occasion he deserved the reprimand. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m not used to being questioned by the police.’
Henry made no further comment. He had no intention of discussing confidential matters in the presence of his driver, who had started the engine but was awaiting instructions.
‘Come on, Geoff,’ he said. ‘Back to Joyce’s place as quick as you can.’