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  Calladine was at a loss. She had a son! He shook his head trying to get the image of a pregnant Birch out of his head. “You never know. It might mean nothing. He’ll probably turn up.”

  “That remains to be seen. They asked for a sample of my DNA to check the blood against. I’ve sent it off and now I’m going mad sitting here waiting for news.”

  “Have you considered taking leave?”

  Birch nodded. “I’m going to have to. Not knowing what’s going on is doing my head in. If Jack doesn’t turn up I intend to go out there and help with the investigation.” She paused for a moment. “I could be gone for a long time. The force won’t like it. I might even have to take early retirement. Give the job up completely.”

  That shook him. In that instant Calladine realised how much a part of the place Rhona Birch had become. “With any luck it won’t come to that. It would be a shame to give up everything you’ve worked for. You’ve gelled here, if you know what I mean.”

  “Good of you to say so, Calladine. I’ll admit I have enjoyed my time with the team. You are a good bunch.” She poured out more whiskey, offering the bottle to Calladine who shook his head. “Enough of my problems. You don’t look too happy yourself.”

  “My problems are all work-related. Except for the thing with Shez, of course.” He placed two images in front of her. “Something odd. This is the individual who visited Donnelly in prison. This is a man caught on CCTV following Megan Heywood this morning. She’s currently missing, ma’am.”

  “It’s the same man. No doubt about it.”

  “Yes, I agree. You know what that means?” Her face fell. “I’m going to have to ask Craig Donnelly about him. We have tried to trace this character ourselves, but no luck. DS Thorpe reckons that’s a disguise. So do I.”

  “Go through his probation officer? Get him to contact Donnelly and deal with Livings. Tell him it’s urgent. To do it right away. You can speak to Donnelly tonight.” She checked her watch.

  “I agree, ma’am. It won’t wait.”

  Calladine made his way back to the incident room. No Ruth or Rocco, and Joyce had gone home. But Imogen was still there.

  Calladine picked up the phone. “We need to speak to Donnelly urgently. Look at these.” He put the images in front of her. “He visited Donnelly in prison, and here he is following Megan. Odd coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “Does this mean that there is a connection to Donnelly?”

  “It looks like it.”

  Five tricky minutes on the phone later, a meeting was set up at the vicarage for seven that evening. Joe Rushton would be there — and Livings, of course.

  Chapter 12

  “Doctor Hartley has gone home, Ruth. Was it important?”

  Ruth groaned and sat down in the waiting room. “It is really, doc. I wanted some information about a patient.”

  Doctor Sebastian Hoyle pulled a face. “I’m surprised he agreed. He isn’t usually very forthcoming. Patient confidentiality, you know.”

  “This particular patient is dead, doc. She was murdered.”

  The doctor’s face fell. “Come through to my room. Perhaps I can help.”

  Ruth was relieved. Doc Hoyle would do what he could. He appreciated what they were up against. He’d been the hospital pathologist until his retirement and had worked closely with Calladine and the team. He’d decided to call it a day when the station had started outsourcing pathology and forensics to the Duggan. Currently he was working part-time as a GP in Leesdon Health Centre. The work evidently suited him. Ruth hadn’t seen him looking so well in quite a while.

  “That’s good of you. It won’t get you into bother, will it?”

  “No. In cases like this, the information we give out is discretionary.” He winked. “And I’m not as discreet as some of my colleagues.”

  “You like it here, don’t you?”

  “It suits me fine. The hours are great and it’s local.”

  “You’ve been here a while now.”

  “I fit in. Can’t do without me now. What’s the patient’s name?”

  “Elsa Ramsden. She lived on Circle Road. Eighteen years old.”

  Ruth waited while the doc tapped away at his computer. A couple of minutes later, he had Elsa’s medical record in front of him.

  “I want to know if she was ever pregnant.”

  “Yes, she was, six months ago. She had a termination and then went on the pill.”

  “Anything there about who the father was?”

  He read through the notes. “No, nothing, Ruth.”

  “That’s a shame. It might have helped.” Ruth suspected the Liam Peach was the father. No one was aware of Elsa seeing anyone else, apart from the ‘virtual’ Aiden.

  “She was taking a lot of medication, poor girl. She had a number of allergies. Notably to cats. According to her notes, she only had to come within a few feet of one to have an asthma attack.”

  “One of my neighbour’s kids is the same. It’s quite common, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, but Elsa’s reaction was extreme. Cat hair and mould spores affected her badly.”

  “Thanks, doc. That could be very useful. I’ll tell Julian first thing.”

  “How’s your infant?”

  “He’s great, thanks. I’m on my way now to pick him up from nursery and take him home.”

  * * *

  But Jake had beaten her to the nursery by ten minutes. Now there was just the question of what to have for tea. Her head was too full of the case to remember what might be in the fridge, so she took a quick run round to the supermarket. A few minutes later she had a bagful of pizza and salad. Sorted.

  Jake kissed her cheek as he took the shopping bag from her. “That was some day. Those girls never let up. Megan’s disappearing act has got them all on edge.”

  “I’m not surprised. Given what happened to Elsa, it’s got us pretty worried too.” She took her son off the hearth rug, and popped him in his playpen. “I brought some food.”

  “I’ve already put that steak pie you made in the oven. I thought we’d have that with some chips.”

  Ruth nodded. “Okay, stash the pizza for another day.” She started to clear some of the clutter from the living-room floor. It was all still there from this morning. Jake had simply put Harry down amidst it all. She used to live such an orderly life, and now she wondered if she’d ever get it back. “You need to tell the kids to be careful. They should go around in pairs or in a group. We will catch him but we’ve got nothing as yet.”

  “I already have. I’m expecting fireworks. Sooner or later the press will get wind of Megan’s disappearance and then the whole town will be a bag of nerves. The kids are on edge as it is.”

  “Jake, if Robert doesn’t come back, we’re going to be in a fix. Have you made contact? Considered talking to him?”

  “What can I do? It’s up to him to decide if he has the temperament or not. His timetable needs covering. According to the head we can’t get a stand-in until next month. It’s the after-school sessions for the A-level students that’ll be the worst. Robert was scheduled to do them all, four late ones a week.”

  So things weren’t going to get any better. Ruth was beginning to feel desperate. “So that’s down to you now? It doesn’t help our situation, does it? I was counting on you to pick Harry up from nursery.”

  Jake’s reply was unconvincing. “I’ll try and sort something out.”

  Ruth flicked her dark hair out of her eyes. “This isn’t working, is it? I’ve only gone back today and already we’re knee deep in problems.”

  “He can stay on at the nursery. It’ll only mean another hour or so. Harry will be fine.”

  That wasn’t what Ruth had wanted. Why have a child if all you did was palm him off on the nursery? This situation called for some hard thinking.

  The front door bell rang.

  Ruth peered out through the front window. “You expecting anyone? I don’t recognise the car.”

  Jake went to answer it an
d returned with Robert Clarke at his heels.

  Clarke looked at Ruth and smiled. “I won’t stay. I’m sorry about today, Jake. I’ve been stupid. All that ribbing from the kids just got to me. It made me wonder what I was doing with my life. But after sitting alone all day in that awful place I’m living in, I began to see what an idiot I’ve been.”

  Jake frowned. “So what have you decided?”

  Ruth stood and watched, hoping. Right now she needed Jake here, not filling in for absent staff.

  “I want to give the job another go.”

  Ruth felt a wave of relief. “Good for you! Don’t let the little buggers grind you down.”

  Clarke looked embarrassed. “I didn’t expect it to be so grim. The thing with that sixth form group really messed with my head.”

  Ruth had gone back to tidying up. “You’re young. They probably fancy you.” He wasn’t bad-looking actually. Tall, with broad shoulders and floppy dark hair, a bit like Jake. “That’ll be what’s at the bottom of it.”

  Jake shook his head.

  “You’re not local, are you? What brought you up here?” Ruth said.

  “I did my degree at Manchester, and teacher training in Huddersfield.”

  “Didn’t you fancy a job back home?”

  He shook his head. He didn’t say why. And he didn’t say where home was either.

  “Want to stay for a bite to eat?” Jake said.

  Ruth could have killed him. The house was a mess and they had a shedload of stuff to do. Besides which, she doubted the pie would stretch three ways.

  “Thanks, but no. I’m off to view a new flat out Hopecross way. It’s pleasant there, rural and quiet.”

  “You’ll be in tomorrow?” asked Jake.

  “Bright and early,” Clarke promised.

  “Did he really have to call for help?” Ruth asked when he’d left. “The girls said something about it when I spoke to them.”

  “He was having a particularly bad day. The girls had it in for him. They didn’t fancy doing the work he’d set them so they had a go instead. But it wasn’t as bad as they made out. He didn’t threaten Elsa. Not his style.”

  “What do you think of his chances now?”

  “He’s got his head together from the sound of it. He’ll be fine.”

  Ruth wasn’t so sure. “I think he’s hiding something. He’s evasive about his past. Keep an eye on him, that’s my advice.”

  * * *

  Michael Livings glared at them. “That’s twice today you’ve interviewed Craig. It’s a damned intrusion. I don’t know what you think he can tell you.”

  Joe Rushton shuffled uneasily. They stood in the hallway, just inside the door, and obviously weren’t going to be invited any further.

  Calladine tried to appease the man. “I’d like Craig to look at a couple of photos, that’s all. It isn’t an interview. But I do think he might be able to help with our investigations.”

  Livings scoffed. “I know what that means, Inspector. Next thing you’ll be dragging him down to the police station again. Well, it isn’t happening!”

  Craig Donnelly emerged from what appeared to be the kitchen. He nodded at Rushton but ignored Calladine.

  Calladine showed him the image from the prison camera. “Do you know this man?”

  “You know I do. We both know where that was taken — in Strangeways. It’s Jason.”

  “How do you know him, Craig?”

  “He wrote to me a couple of months before I got out. Said he was doing research and asked if I’d speak to him. I sent him a visiting order and he came a few times. We talked a bit, that was all.”

  “What about?”

  “Prison life mostly.”

  “Did he ask about Annabelle Roper?”

  “After a while he did. Turned out the man was obsessed. Wanted to know how I’d done it, what I’d done to her and what it had felt like. Bloody pervert. I told him I was innocent.” He cast a look at the vicar. “But he wasn’t having any. In the end I refused to see him. He wasn’t right in the head. He wrote to me a couple of times after that, but I burnt the letters. Filthy stuff, he wrote. Turned my stomach.”

  That was rich coming from Donnelly! “Why didn’t you say something? Alert the prison authorities?”

  “Didn’t see how it would help.”

  “How did he react when you told him you hadn’t done it?” said Calladine.

  “He didn’t believe me. No one has ever believed me.”

  Livings made a tutting sound. “You didn’t tell me any of this. If this Jason chap was bothering you, I would have helped.”

  “He was a nutter. I dealt with him. I haven’t seen him since. End of.”

  “How did you deal with him, Craig?” asked Calladine.

  “I told him to sling his hook, copper. I threatened him. He had no idea who I knew on the outside. I said if he bothered me again, I’d have him done over. I was joking, of course.”

  The vicar made more tutting noises.

  Calladine showed Donnelly the second image. “This was captured by CCTV earlier this morning in Leesdon. The girl is missing. I’d say it was the same man, wouldn’t you?”

  Reverend Livings jumped in. “What are you getting at, Inspector? This really is bad form. If you are suggesting that Craig has anything to do with this, you’re wrong.”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. But I need to know more about this man. I think he’s dangerous. He may well be the last person to have seen the poor girl alive.”

  “You think he’s killed her?” Donnelly’s eyes slid anxiously from Livings to Calladine.

  “Has he contacted you since you got out, Craig?” Calladine asked. He’d seen that look before, the fear in his eyes. Donnelly had looked the same all those years ago when he was being questioned about Annabelle. He was not a good liar.

  Craig Donnelly shook his head. His eyes were on the floor now. “No, and I haven’t seen him around either. No reason I should. He isn’t from round here.”

  “Jason Kent is not his real name, and the get-up is a disguise. When you met him in person, did you realise that?”

  “No. I just saw someone struggling to get by. He arrived at Strangeways on the bus, and didn’t even have money for the coffee machine. He was just as he looks there.”

  Calladine was frustrated. This was a waste of time. “Is there nothing you can add? A girl’s life may depend on it.” He was hoping that Livings might bring his influence to bear. But he said nothing.

  Donnelly shook his head. Calladine was convinced he was holding something back. They both were, he and Livings. Throughout their chat Donnelly had been far too shifty. Calladine would have loved to take Donnelly by his scrawny neck and shake the truth out of him.

  By the time Calladine left the vicarage he’d had enough. He wanted to check in with Shez, see how she was holding up. But he had to speak to Megan’s mum first. The woman would be going out of her mind.

  It was only a short walk from the leafy lane where the vicarage was situated to the concrete monstrosity that was the Hobfield. Cutting across the square, with the tower blocks looming above him, Calladine made his way onto Circle Road. There was already a police car outside Megan’s house.

  Megan’s mother was on the doorstep. “Have you found her?”

  Calladine shook his head. “No, not yet. When did you hear from her last?”

  “This morning. I heard her moving about in her room. I said she was to stay put, but she didn’t listen. Now look what’s happened. Megan knew she’d be next. She said as much herself.”

  “You haven’t spoken to her today?”

  “No, but that’s usual. When I got back from work and found she wasn’t here I was angry. I knew she’d gone to school, her uniform was missing. I rang her mobile but it was dead. I contacted the school and they said Megan hadn’t been in.” She was weeping, her voice trembling. “I got that call from you lot and I knew. He’s got her, hasn’t he?”

  Chapter 13

  Thursday


  The early morning was Calladine’s favourite time of day. Leesdon was quiet as he walked to the police station. A shower of rain had freshened the streets. The takeaways were shut, so the streets were free of their usual odour of chip fat and kebab.

  He was first in. There was a lot to do, but first he wanted hot coffee. It would help him think. They had one dead girl, and another was missing, but the incident board was almost empty. The team needed to focus. With luck the forensic results and Elsa Ramsden’s phone records would be in today. They might yield that much-needed breakthrough. Megan’s laptop was already at the Duggan.

  Imogen arrived next. “Morning, guv.”

  The first thing she did was switch on her computer. The younger members of his team didn’t seem to be able to function without a keyboard at their fingertips. Unlike Calladine.

  Computer running, Imogen said, “Julian wants to speak to you.”

  Calladine wondered whether this message came via email or was relayed over breakfast. “How are the two of you doing in that new house of yours?”

  “I love it. Despite originally wanting something entirely different, I like living on a modern development. We’ve got lots of young neighbours, plenty going on.”

  “Julian?”

  “Not so thrilled. He says there’s too much going on. You know what he’s like, a serious sod with a single topic of conversation.”

  “He’s a brilliant forensic scientist. We need more like him.”

  Imogen grinned. “For God’s sake don’t tell him that. There’ll be no living with him.”

  Next, Rocco came in. He and Imogen swapped chitchat about the previous evening until Ruth turned up.

  “Sorry, gang. Same old story. Wouldn’t eat his breakfast then threw up as I pulled up at the nursery. I think he’s sickening for something.”

  “Jake?”

  She chucked a pencil at a smirking Rocco. “No! Harry, you plank!”

  Calladine announced the morning briefing, with a serious edge to his voice. He paced the floor with his hands in his trouser pockets. “Get what you need and pin back your ears. This case needs a bomb putting under it. We need to sort this and quick. We are no nearer solving the Elsa Ramsden murder and now Megan Heywood is missing. That gives me a very bad feeling. We’re in here, drinking coffee and taking the piss while she’s out there somewhere, in heaven knows what danger.”