Their Lost Daughters (DI Jackman & DS Evans #2)(40)

Jackman watched Max struggle to hold his temper.

‘She shouldn’t be in there.’

Ignoring his colleague, Charlie went back to listening, passing on snippets as they came through. Then he got to his feet. ‘She’s getting out, sir. She’s seen someone she recognises.’ He listened again. ‘She says to meet her where we dropped her off, in five minutes.’

Max was first out of the old storeroom door and before Jackman could even stand up, he had run out into the night.

As he followed him out, Jackman wondered about Max’s behaviour. Could he be . . . ?

It took a little longer than Rosie had said but not long after her message, she came hurrying towards them.

Max had run on ahead. ‘Are you okay? Shit! You had us scared.’

Rosie raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m fine, absolutely fine, you muppet! It was just that I recognised a man who turned up just then, and I couldn’t let him see a cop there, could I?’

‘Who was he?’ asked Marie, who had materialised at Rosie’s side.

Rosie shook her head. ‘Even though I have a damned good memory, I just can’t place him, Sarge. I recognised him the moment I saw him, but try as I might I can’t recall where from.’

Marie put her arm around Rosie. ‘Don’t worry, it’ll come back to you when the adrenalin has worn off. And well done, flower. Let’s get back to the station and debrief you.’

As they drove back, Rosie described the man as shabbily dressed in scruffy chinos, a polo shirt and a nylon tracksuit top. He was tall with slicked-back hair and wearing wire-rimmed glasses.

‘Probably someone you’ve helped put away at some time or another,’ said Charlie Button. ‘Maybe a look through the sex-offender’s file might jog your memory.’

‘Yeah, that’s a good idea.’

‘Hope you don’t mind me saying so, but it sounded as if you were rather enjoying yourself with your little friend, Will.’ Charlie gave her a smirk. ‘Things were getting a bit steamy in there, weren’t they?’

Rosie cuffed the back of Charlie’s head. ‘Mind your own business. Will was very helpful. He told me quite a lot, and I have his mobile number if we need to follow anything up.’

‘Cradle-snatcher.’

‘Eavesdropper.’

‘Just shut up, you two,’ growled Max. ‘This is serious! It’s no joking matter.’

‘We know that,’ murmured Charlie. ‘And you need to chill. Rosie is fine, so stop worrying.’

They drove the rest of the way back in silence. Jackman knew he’d been right. Max Cohen had fallen, hook, line and sinker for Rosie McElderry.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN

The following day Jackman was in his office before seven. He had not slept well and had decided to get up early and get as much office paperwork out of the way as he could. At eight o’clock Marie backed into his office carrying two coffees and a packet of Jammy Dodgers. She pushed his door closed with her hip.

‘I saw you were busy, so I left you in peace.’

‘Appreciated, Marie, and so is that coffee.’

She sat down opposite him and tipped sugar into her mug. ‘I’ve been thinking about Toni Clarkson. What with last night’s caper, I’d pushed her to the back of my mind, but then I woke up at two this morning worried sick about her.’

Jackman put down his files. ‘You know, for the first time I caught a glimpse of what young Ethan Barley saw in her. She’s devastated by the thought of Emily being taken, isn’t she?’

‘No wonder. When you think what happened to Shauna Kelly, Toni was lucky to come out alive.’ Marie placed her mug on his desk. ‘And talking of Shauna, uniform tells me that one of her school friends confirmed that Shauna confessed to attending a “party” in, as she put it, “some filthy hovel filled with gorgeous fit blokes and dirty old men.”’

‘So it’s as we suspected. Oh, that poor mother.’

Marie shook her head. Then she asked, ‘When are we going out to Windrush?’

‘We are all organised for eleven this morning.’

‘Then if it’s all set up, would you mind if I took one of the kids and drove out to Allenby Creek, just to do a quick recce of those houses there? Maybe someone saw something the night Shauna drowned.’

Jackman piled up his files. ‘Forget the kids. Finish your drink and I’ll come with you. We’ve plenty of time.’

‘Excellent. I’ll go grab a pool car.’

*

No one they spoke to knew or had seen anything of Shauna Kelly. Jackman was beginning to believe they had wasted their time. The last cottage they tried was a mess of weathered wood, cracked and broken tiles and crumbling brickwork. But smoke was rising from the chimney and a pleasant aroma of baking lingered in the doorway.

A woman answered their knock, calling out for to them to come in. She was around forty, with long hair, already greying and pulled up into an untidy French plait. She had a warm smile.

‘Oh yes, those nice officers called the day before yesterday, but,’ she shrugged and rubbed a floury hand across her forehead, ‘I couldn’t help them. I went to the market in the morning, then I never left the cottage again.’

‘You live here alone, Miss . . . ?’ asked Jackman politely.