Cold Justice (Willis/Carter #4)(12)

‘Yes.’

‘Must have been cold?’

‘Yes, the temperature had dropped considerably.’

‘Maybe you checked that Samuel had his hat and gloves on, did you? My kid Archie is around Samuel’s age. He won’t keep things on for two minutes.’

Toby gave a small, hopeless shake of the head: ‘I presumed he was still asleep. I never thought about it . . .’ His voice trailed off as he looked up and around the room at the waiting faces – only Jeanie smiled encouragement. ‘It had been a long day. My mind was elsewhere. I should have checked him.’

‘Did you see anyone you knew after you left the Observatory and said goodbye to Gareth?’ Carter asked.

‘No.’

‘After you left there where did you go exactly?’

‘I walked along the top, looked at the view of London, I did a roundabout route back down.

‘Again, did you talk to anyone, Toby?’

‘No. I don’t think so.’

‘No casual word? No interaction of any kind?’

Toby shook his head.

‘After you left the park, where did you go?’ asked Carter.

‘I decided I’d head home via the music shop near the market.’ Toby said it so casually it was as if he were testing it out to see how it sounded. He shook his head. ‘I thought I’d have time to browse while he was quiet.’ Lauren turned her head from him. ‘I wanted to look in the window – there was a saxophone I’d been keeping an eye on – just wanted to see if it was still there. I used to play, years ago.’

‘Did you go inside the shop? Maybe you left Samuel outside?’

Toby hesitated. ‘No, I didn’t,’ he said, and then shook his head vigorously.

‘You didn’t park the buggy somewhere for a few minutes so that you could browse?’

Toby shook his head in denial but his expression said the opposite. Somewhere in his memory banks he remembered having left the buggy just for a few seconds, a minute at the most. Maybe it was more than once, Carter thought to himself.

‘Think carefully,’ he said to Toby. ‘Did you feel his weight shift, hear him move? Maybe he chatters, does he?’

Lauren fought back the tears. Jeanie reached out to place a hand on her arm.

Carter called Willis to follow him out into the hallway where the buggy was. He held it by the handles and bounced it gently.

‘I admit, this is a heavy buggy. With Archie’s you’d know if he wasn’t in it but it’s possible you could push this along with a lighter kid and have no idea. What d’you think?’

Willis repeated the action and nodded. ‘And, he’s not used to pushing it – he’s not thinking like everyone else.’

‘Let’s go outside.’

They walked towards the river and the Thames path. Carter pulled up the collar of his coat. It wasn’t enough. The icy wind cut between the apartment blocks. He pulled his yellow cashmere scarf up around his mouth, tried to make it reach up to his ears but it wasn’t happening.

‘He’s saying what we want to hear now – or what his wife wants to hear. He’s too scared to admit he left the buggy – certainly not in front of his wife. We need to split them up,’ Carter said as he slipped into a doorway to shelter from the blasting wind. He unwrapped a piece of gum. ‘So, what else is Toby lying about?’ Carter stamped his expensive shoes against the cold. Willis didn’t seem to feel it. ‘We’ll double the searches up around the Observatory. What would he have done with his own kid on a cold afternoon in January? It was dark when he came back, he could have walked along the path and jumped down onto the river bank, weighted the child down and thrown him into the river.’

‘Shall we order the divers in?’

‘No, if Samuel is down there he’s not going anywhere. I’d rather concentrate everything on finding him alive. Has Pam had any luck looking into the grandfather? What about his connection to Cornwall?’

‘Just the holiday home down there.’

‘That’s it? No relatives or ex-wives?’

‘That’s it, so far.’

‘Where is the house?’

‘It’s a village called Penhal. It’s popular with people from London. Most people have heard of it or its posh neighbour Rockyhead.’

‘We never came to Cornwall when I was a kid,’ said Carter. ‘The furthest we went was Margate. Well, let’s scan the footage of the funeral again. We’re running out of options. Plus, Jeremy Forbes-Wright didn’t just die, he committed suicide – is there something in that? He books into a hotel and then calmly slices through his own wrist. Christ almighty – I’m flippin’ freezing. Let’s go back in there and I suggest you take the wife somewhere and get her to open up.’

‘Guv? I’m not sure.’

‘Yes. She’s your type – straightforward, no frills.’

‘I’m not the best in these circumstances. I’m not trained as an FLO.’

‘Just do it for me, Eb. Trust me. I know what you’re good at and what needs work.’

When they got back to the flat, Lauren looked perplexed but relieved to be getting out of the house. She went to get her coat without hesitation at Ebony’s request to talk privately. Toby watched her put it on with a pleading look in his eyes; as if she was leaving him to be thrown to the lions. He was looking for a small sign that she didn’t blame him. He didn’t get it. She would blame him for ever.