Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(30)

‘Yeah, but there were no names used.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll tell you all I know if you can keep it from Dad.’

Jackman saw the consternation on Nicholas’s face. The good reverend must have something of a temper, he thought. The lad was terrified. ‘Tell us all you know, and I’ll keep most of it from your father. And I’ll make sure he knows you helped us.’

‘Just tell them, arsehole! And thank your lucky stars you are getting let off so easily,’ hissed Ethan.

Twenty minutes later, they let the boys go. They had descriptions, locations and best of all, Nicholas described the exact spot in the cellar where the “main man” had sat. Any DNA evidence found in that immediate area could be traced to him.

Jackman closed the interview room door, and exhaled loudly. ‘I can’t wait to tie this up with what Gary Pritchard has already got. We can’t waste a moment in getting these perverts into the custody suite.’

Marie nodded. ‘Bastards! Just the thought of those slimeballs watching young kids makes me want to heave.’

Jackman thought of his nephew. ‘I know exactly what you mean.’

Two uniformed officers were walking hurriedly towards them.

‘Sir? Could we have a word, please?’

Jackman nodded and said to Marie, ‘Go check on the others, would you?’ He turned back to them. ‘Sure, lads, but make it snappy.’

‘We were asked to check out a place called Windrush for you, sir,’ said the older of the two.

It was PC Andy English, a good copper who’d worked with Jackman on numerous occasions. ‘Yes, so did you find anything?’

‘Not exactly, sir,’ said the younger officer, PC Kevin Stoner.

Jackman looked at him with interest. PC Kevin Stoner was a bright young copper, and Jackman had recommended him for the CID examinations. However, Stoner had decided that as he had a really good crewmate, he would do a few more years in uniform.

‘The thing is, sir,’ continued Andy, ‘we spent a lot of time there, and when we left we wrote it off as a no-no, but now we’re not so sure. We think it warrants a second look, but with a lot more feet on the ground.’

‘What’s worrying you, Andy?’

Andy adjusted his heavy equipment belt and frowned. ‘Hard to put a finger on it, sir, but I reckon it’s the bloke that showed us round, more than anything.’

‘We think he directed us to where we needed to go a bit too carefully, sir,’ added Kevin. ‘I’m certain we saw just what he wanted us to see and no more.’

‘Who is he?’

‘His name is Micah Lee, and he looks like the kind of man you wouldn’t want to upset.’

Andy sniffed. ‘I’m pretty good at reading people, sir, and that man was hairspring taut. He was well angry when we showed up unannounced, but then he put up a good show. Nice as pie, but underneath . . . boiling, he was, sir. Absolutely boiling.’

‘And he’s the owner of Windrush?’

‘No, he’s the caretaker. It’s owned by a man named Benedict Broome. Lee wouldn’t say what was going on there, but he opened up a bit as we walked around, and he told us that Broome has massive plans for the place. Micah Lee seems to be working his socks off down there. And, hell, Windrush is one scary dump.’

‘And dangerous,’ added Kevin. ‘It needs bulldozing and starting again.’

‘What are these great plans?’

‘Broome wants to turn Windrush into a retreat, somewhere for people to go and get away from life for a while. A remote spot where they would eat well, sleep well and relax. Lee was going on about water gardens, covered courtyards for silent contemplation, a garden of tranquillity, reading rooms, music rooms, quiet rooms, you name it. You’d have thought Broome had millions to spend.’

‘Maybe he does.’

Kevin laughed. ‘Well, he’s not spending too much on labour! You didn’t see Micah Lee, sir! He’s out there on his own with an old digger, a bloody great shovel and a barrow, no sign of any other workmen or helpers. It looked like he was doing it alone.’

‘It was odd, sir,’ agreed Andy. ‘But you could see that some major clearing work had been done.’ He frowned. ‘I wouldn’t mind seeing the plans and the planning permission reports.’

‘Then get them, Constable, as soon as possible, and bring them straight to me. Meanwhile,’ he took the scruffy card that Kevin Stoner offered him, ‘I’ll have a word with this Benedict Broome, and perhaps we’ll pay Windrush another visit.’

Jackman watched as the two constables hurried down the corridor, and felt a chill of apprehension. Over the years, Jackman had learned never to ignore these feelings of unease. It could prove costly.

He walked slowly back towards the lifts, deciding that Marie’s Windrush guided tour might come in useful after all.

*

Jackman walked into the CID room and beckoned to Marie. ‘I’ve been thinking.’

Marie grinned at him. ‘Dangerous.’

‘Probably. But the fact that we have had no time to even look at the Kenya Black case is really starting to worry me, especially if her mother is planning a major media campaign in the near future.’

‘You’re going to clone us?’

‘I don’t think I could cope with two Charlie Buttons, could you?’