Nowhere to Run. Jack Slater
place, but there’s different people in there. They looked Greek or something.’
‘What, the old guy’s retired, has he?’
‘Must have. I didn’t ask. Maybe I’ll find out later. See what the gossip is in the station.’ He glanced at Louise, but she didn’t respond. Simply chewed stoically, her gaze turned inward, barely aware of her surroundings or the people in them. ‘I shan’t be too late back, anyway. Just do what’s needed and come home. No sense getting overtired. Nobody does their best that way, and we need to be on top of our game on this one.’
‘Bad, is it?’
‘As bad as it gets. But nothing for you to worry about.’
‘Dad. I’m ten years old. I’ll be able to get married in another six.’
Pete almost spat out his fish. ‘No, you won’t, young lady. Not without mine and your mother’s permission. Not until you’re eighteen, at least, and not then if you’ve got any sense.’
‘Why? You and Mum are all right.’
‘We didn’t get married until much later than that. When we were old enough to know what we wanted out of life and who we were. Getting married as young as that never lasts. You’re still growing up. Anyway, what’s the rush? You’ve got your whole life ahead of you. And you haven’t even got a boyfriend yet, have you?’
‘No,’ she said heavily. ‘But that’s not the point.’
Pete’s eyebrows went up. ‘Oh. And here I was thinking that was the whole point.’
‘See, you just don’t understand, do you?’
‘Honestly . . . not a clue.’ He grinned and reached out to tousle her hair. ‘I just know that I love you and I want you to be happy.’
She ducked away. ‘Well, so do I. That’s why I need to plan ahead. To be aware of my options.’
Pete suppressed a laugh. ‘Oh, yes? And who’s been putting ideas like that in your head, eh? You got a life coach started working at that school of yours? If so, send them round here. I need some lessons of that sort.’
‘What’s a life coach?’
‘Someone who gets paid enormous amounts of money for talking a mixture of common sense and pointless rubbish.’
‘Sounds like a good job. Easier than yours.’
‘Too right. I’ll tell you what – give it a couple of years, then look into it. See if your careers teacher can point you in the right direction.’ He swallowed the last of his chips. ‘But in the meantime, you make sure you’re in bed and asleep before I get home tonight, all right?’
‘Yes, Dad.’
‘Good girl.’ He stood up, briefly touched her cheek then rested a hand on Louise’s shoulder and kissed her forehead. ‘See you in a bit.’
*
Pete paused, shocked, in the doorway of the squad room. His whole team were at their desks, working quietly and, across from them, a whiteboard had been set up with photos of Rosie and her parents and the basic details of everyone they knew of who was linked to the case, all in Dick Feeney’s neat hand.
Dick looked up from his computer. With his cheeks darkened by a day’s stubble, he looked every inch his nickname of Grey Man. But this was the kind of commitment and work ethic that should have seen Tommy found, months ago. And, Pete was sure, would have if the same team were on it. He just wished they could have been.
‘How’s the missus?’
‘Pissed off at me for coming back in, but she’ll get over it. What’s going on?’
‘We’ve just been doing a few background searches. Seeing if there’s anyone linked to the family with a record,’ Jane told him.
‘And?’
‘Nothing yet, apart from your man, Sanderson.’
‘What did you find on known local paedophiles, Dave?’
‘There’s three on the register. I’ve got the details here.’ He held up a piece of paper.
Pete nodded. ‘We’ll need to visit them. Get their alibis, if they have any. Also, talk to the neighbours and the people who live around the school gates. But, before that, we need to make certain of the parents’ alibis. Ben, if you’ve got a minute, you could do that. Call the head of the school where the mother works and one of the partners of the father’s firm. Meantime, I’ll take Jill and see if we can knock the mother’s sister up. Jane, you and Dick see if you can get hold of Alistair’s brother, Michael. Dave, when you’ve finished what you’re doing, take Ben and follow up on the registered paedophiles. Verify whatever alibis you can.’
‘Bearing in mind who and what they are, have we got to be gentle with them?’ Dave asked.
‘Until you can put one of them in the frame, Dave, they’re as innocent as you are, as far as this case goes.’
‘If they were innocent, boss, we wouldn’t be looking at them,’ Jane pointed out.
‘You know what I mean. Anyway, I thought you were going home?’
She shrugged.
‘Well, thanks for coming back. All of you. Come on, Jill. And don’t forget your brolly; it’s pissing down out there.’
‘Bugger, we thought you were just sweating from the stairs, boss,’ Dick said, as Jill rose from behind her desk.
Pete ignored him. ‘If we’re done by nine, I’ll pop back in here. Otherwise, I’ll see you all in the morning.’ He held the door for the slim, dark-haired constable.
‘Thanks, boss.’ She finished shrugging into her heavy coat and started down the stairs ahead of him. ‘So, where are we going?’
‘Exmouth. They live down near the front, just up from the river mouth.’
‘Very nice.’
‘Hmm. Especially for a bar manager and a social worker.’
‘Jane was saying the mother reckons he’s a bit too touchy-feely.’
‘Yes. So, you take his missus and I’ll have a word with him, assuming they’re in.’
‘Right, boss.’
Pete pushed open the back door and let her through, then ran for the car, the rain now turned to sleet again and coming down hard.
‘Susan Whitlock?’
‘Yes.’
‘DS Peter Gayle. This is PC Evans. Jill. Can we come in?’
‘Of course.’ She stepped back. ‘This is about Rosie, yes?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Jason’s in the bath, I’m afraid,’ the willowy brunette said as she led them into the wide hallway. ‘Jason,’ she called. ‘The police are here, darling.’
‘I’ll be down shortly.’
Pete heard the faint slosh of water from upstairs.
‘That’s all right,’ he said to Susan. ‘We can wait.’
‘Would you like something to drink in the meantime? Tea? Coffee?’
‘Tea would be excellent. Thanks.’
‘So, have you started the search yet?’ she asked.
‘We’ll get going on that in the morning. No sense stumbling about in the dark, destroying evidence.’