‘So you haven’t found her yet?’
‘Not yet. Why do you need to know?’
Riley ignored the question. ‘But the parents asked for your help? Why would they do that?’
‘I don’t follow.’
‘How did they know to approach you? You’re not exactly in Yellow Pages.’
He studied her for a second, a pulse beating in his throat, and glanced at Palmer before answering. ‘Actually, it was a bit of both,’ he admitted carefully. ‘If I remember correctly, a friend of the family asked if we could intervene. I suggested they got the parents to call us.’ He shrugged with elaborate vagueness. ‘I don’t recall the specifics. It seemed more important to get the notices out there so we could begin the search before it was too late. People have very short memories, Miss Gavin. Life moves so quickly, demanding our every spare moment. It’s vital to get people to think before they forget what they have seen. Is this important to you — a family friend, perhaps? Because if you have any ideas about where she might be, you should tell me.’ His words sounded almost syrupy in their sincerity, but Riley thought she detected a sub-text which was more about suspicion. She was also certain he was lying about remembering how the Church became involved. He got the feeling that de Haan was a man who forgot very little.
She folded the flyer away and shook her head. ‘I don’t. But when we spoke last time, I got the impression you only took people in — and then only if they came to you for help. This sounds as if you actually go out looking for missing people on behalf of their families.’ She waited for a response.
He inclined his head as if dealing with a persistent and not terribly quick child. ‘Well, we do that, too, of course. When we’re asked. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear before. But I fail to see why this should be of interest to you or-’ he glanced at Palmer, ‘your friend, here. We have certain facilities and skills which allow us to perform that function. It would be wrong to waste them. Now, if you don’t-’
‘In exchange for a fee?’
He stiffened. ‘I’m sorry, but that’s none of your business.’
‘I’m sorry, too. The grateful parents show their gratitude, is what I mean.’
De Haan took several seconds to answer, as if willing himself under control. ‘Some do, of course. But it is not and never has been a condition of supplying our expertise. That would be little better than bounty-hunting.’ His mouth clamped shut on the words in evident distaste.
‘And Mr Quine?’
De Haan frowned. ‘Mr Quine is a valuable asset. He has a great deal of experience in this area. I would be foolish if I denied anyone the opportunity to use his skills. I’m sorry, but what does this have to do with Henry Pearcy?’
‘Where does he get them?’ Palmer put in, taking the lead.
‘Get what?’ De Haan looked confused by the switch.
‘His skills. Finding missing kids isn’t something you get through the Open University or as an NVQ. What is he — ex-police?’
‘I really have no idea. I seem to recall he may have once worked in the law enforcement field, now you mention it. As far as our work is involved, he has an understanding of the habits and networks in current use among the young, which is invaluable. As I said to you before, over the years we have built up some expertise at tracing runaways. It’s not our main activity, but I’m proud to say we have an enviable record of success… when we’re permitted to work freely, that is.’ He bit the words off with a snap, which Riley took as a sign that she was finally getting under his skin.
‘Permitted?’
‘Unhappily, not all those who are found wish to go home.’ He shrugged impatiently, wanting rid of the subject and, no doubt, the two of them. ‘There’s very little we can do to force them, under those circumstances. We do our best, but sometimes prior… events are against us.’
‘Such as?’
‘Family matters. I’m sure I don’t have to go into that. Adults, you see, usually find their own solutions, Miss Gavin. One way or another. The young do not have that luxury, and it is they who have most need of guidance when they feel the need to tread their own paths. But you probably know that already.’
Riley felt the sudden force of de Haan’s anger. From irritation at being questioned, he now looked as if he had stepped over an invisible line he had not intended to cross. Or was it the passion of the true believer? He ducked his head, his cheeks showing a sheen of perspiration, and Riley wondered if he was always this affected by his own rhetoric. ‘Forgive me,’ he added lamely. ‘It’s simply that I feel… very strongly about what we do here.’
‘I can tell. Thank you — you’ve been very helpful.’ She turned to go, then paused. ‘By the way, has Mr Quine been to the Suffolk coast recently?’
De Haan’s eyes flared in surprise before he clamped down on his reactions. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘Suffolk. It’s on the east coast. Has he been there?’
‘I have absolutely no idea, Miss Gavin. You’ll have to ask him, won’t you?’ His expression was suddenly ice cold, all attempts at geniality gone.
‘Maybe I will.’
Riley turned and walked out, leaving Palmer to follow. Her head was ringing with the echo of de Haan’s words: ‘But you probably know that already.’
She had deliberately not told de Haan about Katie, yet she was certain that he knew. Could Henry have told him about her? She wondered if it was the real explanation for his unease. Pastor de Haan had allowed his control to slip a fraction, letting Riley know that he knew more about Katie’s past than he had any right to.
Back in the car, Riley glanced at Palmer. ‘What do you think?’
Palmer toyed with a cigarette, flicking it against his thumbnail. He wore a slight frown. ‘If I was a betting man,’ he said finally, ‘I’d say Pastor de Haan, along with his changeable accent, is as bent as a dead dog’s dick.’
‘How quaint. Should we tell DS McKinley? He might be able to force them to produce Henry. At least then he might take me off his list of possible suspects.’
Palmer shrugged and said nothing, so Riley stopped the car by the gates and took out the card the police officer had given her. He answered after three rings. ‘McKinley.’
‘You asked me to call if I heard anything about Henry Pearcy,’ Riley announced.‘
Did I?’ McKinley sounded tired. ‘Yes. Sorry, that’s no longer an investigation.’
What?’ Riley was surprised. ‘But you said his disappearance was suspicious.’
‘So it was. But not any longer. Word came from on high; Mr Pearcy had some kind of breakdown. As a result of taking some anti-depressants, he had a fall in his hotel room. He’s now staying with friends. There’s nothing more I can do, I’m afraid. Now, if that’s all, I have an urgent call.’
‘Breakdown? But that’s crazy-’ But the line was dead. McKinley had hung up.
Riley switched off her mobile and dropped it in her lap. ‘Do you believe that? What does that mean, word from on high?’ She drove out of the gates, causing a spurt of gravel behind her.
Palmer pulled a face. ‘It means a senior person on the totem pole pulled rank. You don’t argue with that if you value your pension. De Haan must have got to somebody.’
‘And that’s it? That’s all you’re prepared to do?’ She looked at him in exasperation. ‘Why don’t you go ahead and light your cigarette; it might give you some inspiration.’
‘Well, if you wanted me to tie de Haan to a chair and beat him over the head with a rubber hose, you should have said. I said he’s bent, but that doesn’t mean he’s involved in Katie Pyle’s death. And if he’s convinced the Met that Henry’s safe, there’s nothing we can do.’ He gave a wry smile and put the unlit cigarette back in the packet. ‘All the same, it might be interesting to go back and take a quiet look around.’
Riley smiled with relief and put her foot down.
When they were close to Uxbridge, Palmer gave her directions to s small block of flats set in a leafy back road. He asked her if she wanted to come in.