I Am Watching You(51)

In the front passenger seat, the detective sergeant is on the phone. Hearing just one side of the exchange is infuriating. There is clearly something significant going on, but so far he cannot work out what. Why did they suddenly let him go?

‘Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?’

At last the sergeant is off the phone and turns his body so that Henry can see the side of his face.

‘We can’t say too much at the moment, Mr Ballard, but there is a police operation under way in Spain in connection with the inquiry into your daughter’s disappearance.’

‘Spain? Why Spain? I don’t understand.’

‘OK. So we were hoping for a media blackout but things have moved on . . .’

‘What things?’ Jesus Christ.

‘A witness has identified Karl Preston as living and working in Spain, using a false identity. The witness apparently saw a rerun of the anniversary TV appeal. The local police moved in to arrest him on our behalf. The plan was for someone from our team to go over there. It can get a bit complicated, liaising with foreign forces. There are protocols. We have to tread carefully.’

‘So what’s happened? What is he saying about Anna?’

‘Like I say, things have moved on. He’s apparently resisting arrest. We have a live situation.’

‘Live situation? What the hell is that?’

‘It’s being covered on the news, Mr Ballard. Cathy is with your wife. You will be able to find out the latest when we get you home. To be honest, they probably know as much, if not more, than I do.’

‘And what about Anna? Is anyone saying anything about Anna?’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Ballard. I don’t know any more.’



At the farmhouse finally, Henry sees a black and slightly battered hatchback parked outside. It belongs to Tim or Paul, he can’t remember which, and Henry feels a wave of irritation. Bad enough that the family liaison officer is here. Cathy has been kind enough, but he never forgets that she is a policewoman. Whereas Barbara has been way too pally with her.

Henry feels his muscles tense as they sweep past the barn. He is remembering the scene with the shotgun when he was taken away. Jenny in tears. And God knows how Barbara will be with him now. What the hell is the truth, Henry? Where were you that night?

But mostly his mind is whirring with all these confusing new possibilities. Spain?

Only after they have stood on the doorstep for a minute or two does Henry realise that the police sergeant is expecting him to use his key. His bits and bobs were returned to him as they left the station. Henry fumbles in his pocket and finally finds it. It feels formal and odd. The front door is rarely closed, and he normally uses the side entrance through the boot room.

Once in the hall, the sergeant explains that he will speak briefly to the family liaison officer and then leave, though Henry must stay at home or advise the police if he is making a trip anywhere. Any new information will be filtered through Cathy.

‘Understood? We may well need to speak to you again very soon.’

Henry shrugs, and then they move into the sitting room, following the sound of the television and voices. All faces turn their way.

Jenny is sitting on the right-hand sofa with Tim at her side. She has her hand up to her mouth and is very pale.

Barbara is in the high-backed chair nearest the television, both her hands also up to her mouth, almost prayer-like, pressed hard against her lips. Cathy is sitting on a footstool alongside her, her hand on Barbara’s back.

On the television, a reporter is standing in front of what looks like a police cordon at the end of a narrow street. Bright blue sky . . .

‘We now have confirmation from the police that the man at the centre of this stand-off is believed to be Karl Preston – wanted for questioning in connection with the disappearance of teenager Anna Ballard . . .’

‘What’s going on?’ Henry is looking at Barbara, but she doesn’t move her eyes from the television.

‘Shut up, Dad. We need to listen.’ Jenny leans further forward.

The reporter continues. ‘The man is understood to live on the second floor. Shots were fired this morning when police moved in to arrest him. Some residents have managed to leave the apartment block, but many are still inside and have been warned to keep out of sight. Police have cordoned off the whole area now and have apparently advised all those within the exclusion zone to stay indoors and away from windows until this situation is resolved . . .’

‘What a cock-up,’ Henry says finally. ‘First you let him do a runner and now you can’t even arrest him without a pantomime. Jesus Christ.’

‘Shut up, Dad. Turn it over again, Tim. There was more on the other side. That woman who thinks she saw Anna—’

‘Saw Anna? Someone’s seen Anna?’ Henry feels his heart thump, fluid in his throat suddenly – almost choking him.

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, be quiet so we can listen. Give me the remote.’ Jenny now takes the remote control from Tim and changes channels. Same scene – different reporter. In the meantime, Cathy stands and moves out into the hall with the sergeant. Henry watches them close the door, and is torn between listening to the television and trying to make out what they are whispering about.

Henry feels his heart pumping now as he listens to this new update from the different reporter . . .