‘We are,’ said Janine.
‘Thanks for the update,’ Millie said sarcastically.
‘We have been rather busy,’ Janine said.
‘I should be told of all major developments,’ Millie said. ‘This is a major development?’
At exactly the same moment as Janine answered no, Richard said yes.
Millie shook her head in disgust, gave a humourless laugh. ‘Final answer?’ she said.
‘There’s a lot of speculation flying about at this stage,’ Janine said.
‘Well, unless you give me something to work with, that speculation is going to be all over the airwaves as well. Or shall I put the calls through to the incident room? To the horse’s mouth?’
For one delirious moment Janine considered telling Millie Saunders to bugger off. Instead she took a steadying breath and then said coolly to Richard, ‘Please brief Millie, make sure she’s up to speed on all developments. Now, and for the duration of the investigation.’ She held her hand out towards the door, inviting them to leave. ‘And Richard – no names to be released yet.’
You think he’s still alive? Felicity Wray had taunted her. It wasn’t likely. Though it depended on who had taken him, or more specifically what for. Janine’s gut instincts told her that while Felicity Wray had some motive to want the child out of the picture, she was an unlikely kidnapper. The way she made no attempt to hide her dislike of Clive’s new family, her jealousy, also suggested her innocence. If she actually had taken Sammy surely she would be more circumspect and not go all out to antagonise the police. However if a lone paedophile was behind the abduction he might well have got rid of Sammy Wray within the first few hours after abusing him. Rape and murder. A ring of paedophiles would trade the boy as long as they could get away with it, keeping him enslaved for years. It didn’t bear thinking about – except for the fact that it was Janine’s job to think about such horrors, to face them squarely and calmly, analytically, to examine the evidence and try and reach the truth. Her colleagues at CEOPS who concentrated solely on child exploitation and protection had been alerted.
Janine’s phone went – Lisa at Felicity Wray’s house. They had not found Sammy, nor any trace of him and there was no sign of any attempts to conceal a body, like recent digging in the garden. Thank God. If they had found the child there Janine would never have been able to forgive herself. And neither would Louise Hogg.
Chapter 13
Butchers had tolerated the stupid balloons and the noose above his desk as best he could but when he saw Lisa handing cash over to Shap he couldn’t let it lie.
‘Are you doing a whip-round?’ Butchers hissed.
‘Who pissed on your chips?’ Shap said.
‘I told you I didn’t want any fuss. It’s just a small do,’ Butchers said.
‘Don’t know what you’re on about, mate. I’m collecting for the lottery. We’re in a syndicate.’ Shap was a weaselly bastard, lie his way out of any situation and Butchers didn’t know whether to believe him.
Butchers returned to his desk. He had been speaking to the community policing team who covered the Kendal Avenue area, checking out the neighbours and any known criminals. He was particularly interested to learn that Luke Stafford was already on their radar. Anti-social behaviour, police had been called to the school twice to deal with violent incidents.
‘Luke Stafford – bit of a bad ‘un,’ Butchers told Shap. Then he compared his notes and saw something else. ‘And, he goes to All Saints – same school as Phoebe Wray.’ Fluke or something more sinister? Butchers thought about it: Phoebe Wray is half-sister to the missing boy and Luke Stafford lives next door to where the dead child was found. OK, the boss had stressed the importance of keeping the two inquiries separate but a coincidence like that at the very least needed explaining.
The office phone rang and Shap answered it, listened then said, ‘Kim, Tony Shap here – your fiancé’s better half.’
Butchers shook his head, raised a warning hand – I’m not here. He felt sick. He’d blanked three calls from Kim already. It was busy and he was up to his eyes. If she was mithering him like this now, then just how much worse would it be once they were hitched?
‘Just missed him,’ Shap said smoothly. ‘All systems go for tonight?’ He listened and laughed. ‘Can’t wait.’
Shap hung up and looked to Butchers waiting for an explanation. He could whistle for it. Butchers shrugged, easier than trying to justify his behaviour. Wasn’t sure what was going on himself, anyway. No time to be bothering about all that now, he needed to do a bit more digging with Luke Stafford.
Butchers headed for the door then stopped. ‘Maybe we should postpone the party – everyone’s flat out.’
‘No way, mate,’ said Shap, ‘after the last few days we need a chance to get totally hammered.’
Which was not what Butchers wanted to hear.
The Staffords’ place was still a tip. Didn’t look like anyone had picked up anything since Butchers’ last visit. Ken Stafford simmered with resentment, if Luke Stafford had a temper, lost control and got into bother, Butchers could tell where he’d got that from. While the father sat in an armchair, sitting forward rather than relaxing back, the lad stood leaning against the door jamb. Butchers had invited him to sit down but the kid had replied, ‘Rather stand.’
Butchers started with the Saturday of the abduction. They had already answered questions about that day, he’d lull them into thinking he was just going over the same old ground then chuck something new into the mix. See what it threw up.
‘A week last Saturday you were working?’ Butchers said to Ken Stafford.
‘I told you that,’ he said.
‘You work nights, so Luke’s here on his own?’
‘That’s right,’ Ken Stafford said.
‘Then what?’
‘We’ve been over this,’ he said.
‘I’d like to go over it again,’ Butchers said stolidly.
Ken Stafford shifted in his seat, ‘Shift finishes at four am,’ he said tightly, ‘I get in at half past. Slept till five-ish that evening.’
‘Long sleep.’
‘I needed it,’ Ken Stafford retorted. ‘I’d only just got off when the bloody builders roll up.’
‘You remember this, Luke?’ said Butchers
‘I was asleep but he told me, later. You never shut up about it,’ he complained to his father.
‘What time did you get up?’ Butchers asked the lad.
‘Dunno,’ he gave a quick shrug.
‘Rest of that day. Where were you?’
‘Here, probably,’ Luke said.
‘You can’t remember?’
‘Here.’
‘And you didn’t see Luke for the best part of twenty odd hours?’ Butchers said to Ken Stafford.
‘That’s right,’ he said.
‘You’ve been in a bit of bother,’ Butchers said to Luke, ‘assault, anti-social behaviour. Make you feel big, does it, knocking people about?’
Luke set his jaw, sullen, didn’t answer.
Ken Stafford glanced sharply at Butchers.
‘You get a buzz out of hurting people?’ Butchers said.
‘Pack it in,’ Ken Stafford threatened Butchers, ‘don’t talk to him like that.’
‘You know Phoebe Wray well?’ Butchers asked Luke.
Surprise flashed across the boy’s face and he blushed. ‘We’re mates,’ he stammered, ‘that’s all.’
‘Mates,’ Butchers echoed. ‘She said anything to you about her half-brother’s abduction?’
‘No,’ Luke said.
‘Nothing? Odd that.’
‘Said you lot went round there.’
‘That all?’ Butchers said.
‘Yeah,’ he said. But Butchers had the sense there was more, that Luke was hiding something. He turned to Ken Stafford, ‘Have you any objection to me taking a look round?’