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  Bob Scunthorpe sniffed, he nodded. “Are you thinking television?”

  “Yes, sir. Television, as a matter of urgency, the news bulletins as soon as possible, the websites, Facebook pages, Twitter. But…” She took in a breath. He waited. “The biggest problem as I see it is that we need help from the public. We still need to be able to approach people in the services, give them the opportunity to come to us, talk to us. We need to warn them, and we need to use them, make them think. We really need to make everyone take this more seriously.”

  He nodded, steepled his hands on the desk in front of him. She was going to have to spell it out.

  “Thing is, sir, we need to warn young women not to talk to male police officers. Not to go off with people who tell them that they are with the force. As well as that, we have to face the fact that it could be…” She paused. “We have tried not to acknowledge it, but it could be that he is one of us. With all the television, films, and books about these days, I think the public know as much about policing as we do ourselves, or at least they think they do, so it’s still highly likely that this is someone passing himself off as some kind of official. But I do think that we have to consider the unpalatable possibility that it might be a serving officer.”

  He was already shaking his head, “If the press got hold of that they’d crucify us. We need to think very carefully before saying anything. It would cause considerable ill feeling among our fellow officers for a start and, though we want the public aware, we don’t want them overly suspicious. We have enough problems with distrust at the best of times, and this is certainly not the best of times.” He looked saddened, a little shocked. He pushed it aside. “For the moment we’ll get on with the rest of it, the television appeal. If that helps, and if it does turn out to be someone in the force we’ll deal with that robustly, but let’s not look for trouble. However, all that said, there is another matter.” He coughed, looked down at his desk. Tanya knew what was coming, her stomach clenched.

  “We have decided that we need to move this up a notch.” He glanced at her, “I’m sure you’ve realised that this has now become a major crime.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “For the moment, obviously we have to carry on, we have to keep looking for this poor girl. But, I would ask that you make everything ready to hand this over. I’m sorry Tanya, but they are preparing a team from the Major Crime Unit to come in after the weekend.”

  “Yes, sir.” There was nothing more that she could say, her throat had closed over with disappointment. He carried on, telling her that it was no reflection on what she had done, that it was policy, but his words were white noise. She had failed.

  She couldn’t argue with him. She shook herself mentally. Jane was missing, she had to save her, he had said they must carry on. She took a breath, got a grip. “In the meantime, sir, I would like officers at the services, all of them if we can manage it, but at least the two where we’ve had disappearances and the other one going south. I would like them all to be women. We need to catch people who use the cafés, the shops, even the parking, we need to find out if anyone else has been approached, but we can’t do it with men. We can’t send out such a conflicting message.”

  “Have you any idea what a can of worms that would be, Tanya? In this day and age, can you imagine the backlash? Apart from anything else I don’t even know if we can spare that number of female officers, the logistics alone would be a nightmare. We have spent years integrating, years, and now you are asking me to allocate duties using gender as a criterion? The press would have a field day.”

  “Yes, sir.” There was nothing else she could say. She gulped and folded her hands in her lap, waiting for him to tell her that she was mad, that they would wait to make those decisions until other people had taken over, someone with more of an idea.

  He didn’t do that. “Leave this with me. I have noted everything you’ve said. I need to speak to the Assistant Chief Constable.”

  Chapter 29

  She walked down the corridor struggling with clashing thoughts. Had she screwed this up so badly that her career would be over just as it was taking off? She remembered the conversation with Kate, that woman had accepted that there were to be no more promotions, but didn’t mind, she had everything else: husband, kids, the sport. If Tanya didn’t have this, what was left?

  She turned into the incident room, Paul glanced up, shook his head. “I’m trying, boss, but the badge is unclear, and there are a lot that are similar. I need to find that first. I’ll do it.” She nodded at him, gave him a smile.

  “Right, the rest of you, anything?” For now, she wouldn’t share the news. She didn’t want them to lose the impetus. There was still time, and anyway, when she did have to hand it over, it had to be clear that she had done everything she could, that there was no room for criticism of any of them. She glanced at Sue and wondered if she would gloat. That smarted as much as the rest of it.

  A charity shop manager thought he might recognise the dress, but it had been months ago, the guy had paid in cash and when they sent the image to see if he could identify the customer, he wouldn’t commit himself. According to what he was told at the time, the dress had been bought for the man’s daughter. He remembered, because he had congratulated him on the upcoming wedding, but it turned out the girl was involved in re-enactment. The dress fitted the look she wanted, a medieval princess. The manager had been intrigued and looked it up on line. It was ridiculous in his opinion, grown men fighting with swords, and not real swords at that.

  “He didn’t say that, did he?” Charlie looked horrified.

  “Yeah, he did. I think he must be a Game of Thrones fan. If it’s not some sort of exotic steel with a razor-sharp edge, it’s not worth bothering with.” Dan grinned, “Apparently, he had a laugh about it, but then they realised that it would be a good marketing angle, so they printed out some of the pictures and stuck them up around the shop.

  “Have you got his home address?”

  Dan nodded. “Get down there, will you Dan? Take Sue with you. Have a look at the images anyway, but more important, see if you can’t pin him down a bit; if we can get an idea of when, we can see what re-enactment events there were in the area. We might spot the dress. I mean surely if he had a trawl around the internet, the record will be on his machine. If he doesn’t play ball, confiscate the thing and bring it back here for the IT department. Try to pin him down to some sort of description if you can, anything could be a help. Great work, Dan.” She thought he would burst into flames, he went so red.

  “Charlie.”

  He nodded and headed to their office. She looked at the clock. It was already past eight, how long could she expect them to work? This was another lead, she was fired up, she glanced through the window into the room. Dan and Sue were already on the way, Paul had his head down, scrolling images on his screen, Kate was on the phone. Yes, they would stay. It had been the right decision not to tell them yet.

  Charlie spent the next half an hour in silence, there was just the click of his mouse, the rattle of the scroll wheel. Tanya read through her notes, walked into the incident room, and updated the boards. She dragged out a new one and pinned Jane Mackie’s picture to the top.

  Charlie looked up as she went back into the office, he pushed his chair away from the desk, stretched his arms above his head, and groaned. “Well I have to say they are a strange bunch these ‘re-enactors’ but I think some of them are probably really knowledgeable about history. It looks as though it’s quite fun in a way. Camping, dressing up, it’s family stuff you know?”

  “I don’t know if I see this bloke as a family man though, Charlie. Where is he keeping the women? Not in a semi in Oxford I shouldn’t think. Wouldn’t your wife think it was odd if you were in late, out early?”

  He tipped his head to one side, glanced at his watch and grinned. She threw her pen at him.

  It missed.

  Chapter 30

  Dan and Sue came back at just after ten. The s
hop manager’s computer had given them a sales date in the previous June. He couldn’t be specific but had looked at the sites in the days immediately after the dress had been sold. They had printed out some of the images to give the team an idea of what they were looking at, but there were none like that of the silver, sequinned dress pinned to the board. There were many of women, long skirts trailing in the mud, cooking over open fires, standing on the sidelines cheering on their knights. The more they looked at it the less appealing it seemed to Tanya, mud and discomfort held no allure, but then there was no accounting for people’s tastes and it was innocent enough.

  Everyone was exhausted, it was time to call it a night. It made more sense to have an early start. As they left the quiet building, Tanya took a last look at the new photograph, the face of Jane Mackie. She turned away and switched out the light. She had no idea what the girl might be going through, but each passing hour took her further and further from salvation and it was very probably too late already. She was swept by a feeling of impotence and hopelessness.

  * * *

  Paul was already in the office before seven, he was on the phone when Tanya arrived. She’d brought breakfast from the café down the road – pastries and coffee. He covered the mouthpiece with his hand as she dropped the bags on the table in the corner. “I’ve got the regiment, I’m on to them now. I want to send a picture of that soldier over as soon as I find where best to send it.”

  “Brilliant. Well done, Paul.” She grinned at him, carried over the extra-large latte and placed it on his desk. She could have kissed him but had to make do with a warm croissant, a thumbs up and a beaming smile.

  Dan was red eyed and tired, he had spent hours into the early morning peering at even more images of re-enactors. There had been a few gatherings since the dress had been sold, thousands of pictures and videos, but there had been no sign of it. “The thing is,” he told them, “so many of the women wear cloaks and shawls and what have you, it might be hard to spot it even if it is there. Anyway, I’ve got a mate in the computer section and he has some software that might help. I’m seeing him later, he can take the image and then search for it all over the internet. He’s coming in early to set it going.”

  They were pulling out all the stops. “Brilliant, thanks guys. We’ve got to have some luck soon, I just hope it’s soon enough for Jane.” Inadvertently, carelessly, she’d lowered the mood, she could have bitten off her tongue.

  “Well, I wish I had some better news,” Kate shook her head as she spoke, “I’ve had no luck at all with the motorway cameras. I think you were right, he’s thrown Millie’s phone out when he’s been in the middle of traffic.”

  Tanya nodded, “If you decided to go off with someone, someone who had convinced you that they were in the police, what sort of vehicle would you expect them to have?”

  Kate responded, “Well a patrol car obviously, but we already know which ones were in the area, we’ve done that check haven’t we? Could be an unmarked car, could be a personnel carrier. A four-wheel drive, one of those bloody big black things.” As she spoke Tanya remembered the traffic officer, she must check with Charlie about that, but he’d put nothing on the board.

  “Can you have another look at the recordings, make a note of anything that looks even vaguely like a police vehicle. It’s a long shot I know but… well, something might stand out. Let’s get on with it. Oh, and keep up with monitoring those tweets and Facebook posts if you can, contact us straight away if there are more angel references, I’m sure there’s something important there. If it all gets too much let me know and I’ll try and get you some help.”

  Kate nodded and turned back to her computer, Tanya could tell by the set of her shoulders there would be no request for help.

  * * *

  Jane cowered in the corner, the rattle of the ladder and the clump of his feet on the rungs had sent her scurrying across the rough boards. She closed her eyes.

  When they had pulled into the messy yard she had tried to drag the sliding door open, but the child lock was on. He’d left her there, screaming in the back of the van, hammering on the windows. She’d climbed into the front but, of course, he’d taken the key with him.

  When he came back he brought a length of rope. She thought he might strangle her, had screamed and cried, clambered back over the seats to hide in the narrow space. He slid open the door, grabbed her leg and twisted until she had no choice but to turn onto her belly. She kicked out, felt her foot connect with the flab of his stomach, heard him grunt, but he ignored her feeble struggles. He wrapped the rope round and round her arms, pinning them to her chest, down and down, holding her legs with his knees, down and down, until she was a cocoon, writhing and twisting in the gap between the rear seat and the back of the cab. He pulled her forward and hoisted her to his shoulders. She screamed and wriggled but it did no good. He was stronger than she was, much stronger.

  He carted her up the short ladder and clambered into the loft space dropping her on the floor. He’d untied her then and reached out to smooth down her hair. She’d flinched away from his touch, crabbed back into the corner, buried her head between her bent knees, sobbing.

  After a few minutes standing over her he went back, disappeared through the hatchway, pulling it down behind him.

  All the time, through the whole episode he had cried, he had apologised to her over and over and over; he was sorry for scaring her, sorry for hurting her.

  * * *

  “I’ve brought you something to eat. You need to eat this.” He pushed a tray across the floor, it was covered with a cloth, she could smell the food. Her mouth watered in spite of herself, her stomach rumbled.

  He didn’t stay, but when he went he left the light on, a single bulb fastened into a socket, high up in the eaves. She crawled across and pulled the cloth away. There were two bottles of water, she snatched one of them up, peeled the plastic from around the top, and gulped it down greedily. There was a plate holding a bread roll and a bowl with some thin soup in it. Vegetable pieces floated in the liquid.

  Chapter 31

  “I’ve found him.” Paul hadn’t bothered to knock, he waved the picture of the soldier in the air. “I sent over the CCTV image, it wasn’t that clear, but they went through their records, found out who was on leave this last Friday, or travelling to new postings et cetera, and then went through any likely candidates. They weren’t keen to give out information at first, but I told them the situation, I didn’t have a choice. Anyway, they’ve spoken to his mate, apparently there were a few of them in the service area that day, but this one was in the café and remembers the girl.”

  Tanya leapt from her chair, “So, what’s the deal? Who is he, where is he and how soon can we speak to him? We’ll need a police artist. Charlie can you get on to that? Paul, you and me will go and take him with us.”

  “His name is Connolly, he’s a sergeant, but it’s not that simple.”

  “Why? What’s not simple?”

  “They were heading for Hereford.”

  “And.”

  “Hereford.”

  “Yeah, you said – Hereford, and?”

  Paul glanced at Charlie, who nodded at him. “Hereford, Tanya. The Regiment.”

  “Oh, right. SAS. But, I don’t see why that’s a problem.”

  Paul stepped further into the office, “It’s not really. It’s just that he’ll have to come here when they find him. They don’t want us going there.”

  “Find him? And anyway, what do you mean they don’t want us there? We’re the bloody police.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “They’re on it. They know it’s urgent. They said a few hours at most and they’ll bring him here. He’s somewhere out training, or god knows what, and they aren’t going to say.”

  There was nothing more she could do to make it happen faster. She rang the Chief Inspector’s office and asked to see him.

  He was in a meeting. She slammed the phone down, just a bit too hard. Charlie frowned at her. Th
ey had started so well, she had felt the hope rise and now every turn seemed to be barred. She took a couple of deep breaths. This wasn’t professional, it was wrong. She nodded to Charlie watching from his side of the room. Managed a grin. “Sorry.” He shook his head, smiled back at her, and went to turn on the kettle.

  The army were as good as their word and by twelve o’clock the soldier was being shown to an interview suite. He was in civvies, fit and young, with a shaved head. He had obviously been briefed about why he had been brought there and had come ready to take care of business. He had already jotted down what he could remember. In his hand was a notebook with the times, the exact location, even what the girl had on the plate in front of her.

  “She looked pretty brassed off.” He laughed. “Reminded me of my kid sister. I gave her a wink, but you know, had to just be a bit careful. Didn’t want to give her the wrong idea. Then the bloke turned up. Well, at first I thought it was her dad, obviously, but then it looked as though they were arguing. I went over. It was a copper, he showed me his warrant card, and I left them to it. I reckoned she was probably a runaway.” He stopped, rubbed his hands over his face. “I am so sorry. I honestly didn’t realise. She was just a kid, you know a teenager – glowering and being antsy.”

  “It’s okay, it’s okay, Sergeant Connolly. It’s not your fault. But you can help us now and we need to move pretty fast. Do you think you could work with the police artist? Give us a good idea of what he looks like. We have CCTV footage but none of it is clear, he’s clever at hiding his face.”

  “Please call me Trevor. Absolutely, anything I can do. I didn’t get a long look at him, but I’ll do my best. I feel so bloody pissed about this. That poor kid. I can’t believe I let this happen.”