‘Very little, sir,’ Mills told the assembled group. ‘It’s like they’ve been drilled. They’re all very attentive, very polite, but while they admit to have been spreading the word in Karen’s area the other day, they just look blank when they’re asked about Karen or any of the other missing people.’
‘What do they say about the car cleaning?’ Winter asked.
‘That they clean cars for people of the church as a thank you for lifts they get to events or outings. They also get shopping in for the elderly who struggle to do it for themselves, babysit, help the younger kids with Bible study. They’re essentially good kids,’ Gray said.
‘Good kids who help cover up abduction and goodness knows what else,’ Webb observed. ‘I don’t think they’re good so much as brainwashed.’
‘That’s an interesting word,’ Hardcastle said. ‘And I think it’s apt, just as Mills describing them as having been drilled is apt. They remind me of military personnel. They each have their role to play, they know exactly what is expected of them and they act as a unit with a common goal.’
‘I wonder how much they each know?’ mused Ruth. ‘I mean, if they do things on a “need to know” basis, if they keep information compartmentalised to limit the risk of discovery or exposure, they might each have nothing very useful to tell anyway.’
‘Pieces of the jigsaw, bricks in the wall,’ said Winter.
‘Excuse me,’ said Gray. ‘But you’re all talking as though these people are guilty of something. With the exception of Mr Surtees, they haven’t been arrested, and no one has been charged with an offence yet. What happened to “innocent until proven guilty”?’
‘Look, son,’ said Hardcastle, not unkindly. ‘There would be times when I would agree with you, but look at the facts. The Snowdon girls got into Cotter’s car nine years ago and Annie was successfully abducted, after which the car was cleaned to remove any traces of evidence. Tina Snowdon has positively identified Surtees as the driver of the car the girls got into at Heworth Metro station. Clearly, Cotter lied about his guilt to protect Surtees.’
‘He also effectively halted the investigation when he did that,’ said Webb. ‘For six years.’
‘And now we have similar things with Karen Fitzgerald,’ Hardcastle continued. ‘She’s known to be suspicious of them, believed to be investigating them on her own time, and she vanishes. Then her car turns up, clean as a whistle, at a time when the church are known to be working in the area.’
‘But sir, they’re Christians!’
‘You’re letting that fact blind you, Charlie,’ said Hardcastle. If you’re going to be a good copper, you’re going to have to stop taking anything at all at face value. These people smell guilty. Their involvement is too deep to be coincidence. Our job is to gather evidence. The evidence will show us the truth.’
‘And at the moment,’ Winter said, ‘the evidence shows us that on balance of probabilities, we have found the person or people responsible for, at the very least, Annie Snowdon’s abduction. Now we need to gather the evidence to show exactly what happened that night, and what has been going on since then.’
‘And since we also have evidence to suggest that Annie is alive, if we extrapolate from that fact that the other missing children plus Karen are also alive, then we need to find out where those people are being held,’ said Ruth. ‘I personally am hanging on for dear life to the assumption that you don’t pick up clothes and toiletries for someone who is dead or who you intend to kill. Please don’t forget, as well as those kids, one of our own is out there.’
‘What did Barbara Neville have to say?’ Winter asked Webb.
Webb rolled his eyes. ‘She started crying pretty much as soon as I started talking,’ he said.
‘She’s not the first woman to do that,’ said Winter.
‘Very droll. She’s having a cup of tea in the canteen with Wendy Martin while she calms down.’
‘If she’s like that when we question her informally, what the hell is she going to be like if she’s arrested and charged with an actual offence?’ asked Winter.
‘Well, I think that’s part of the issue. I think she knows she will be, and she’s frightened.’
‘So we offer her a lifeline,’ said Hardcastle. ‘Give her the “we can do a deal for people who help us” speech. See if that dislodges anything.’
Webb nodded. ‘I’ll give it a go, sir. To be honest, she might know some stuff that would help, but I doubt she’s any kind of arch criminal. It probably wouldn’t cost us much if we can get her to talk.’
‘And she’ll salve her guilty conscience. That has to be worth it from her point of view, surely.’ Hardcastle smiled, but there was little humour in it. ‘Meanwhile, I get my DI back. Go on, son, give it a go. Take Evans with you. Let us know how you get on.’
There was a tap at the door and PC Martin popped her head round. ‘Sir,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a problem. One of the youngsters from the church came to the canteen to see Neville. He told her she’s free to leave, because they’re here voluntarily. She didn’t realise. They’re all planning to go now.’
‘Damn and blast! Who the hell told them that?’ Hardcastle looked at the men and women in his office, then his eyes settled on PC Gray.
‘I had to, sir. It’s the law. It’s the truth.’
‘Get out of my sight,’ Hardcastle growled. ‘Okay, let them go,’ he said to Martin. ‘It’s right enough, we can’t make them stay and we’ve got nothing to arrest them for. Not yet, anyway.’
Later that afternoon, John Surtees was taken to the interview room for a second time. His solicitor had been contacted and accompanied him.
‘I’m not a criminal,’ he exclaimed, as Winter was unwrapping the tapes for the machine. ‘I’ve been photographed and fingerprinted … my tie has been taken from me …’
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ the solicitor cautioned him. ‘I would advise you to only answer the questions you are asked, and only then if I don’t stop you from answering.’
‘But I keep telling you, I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘Mr Surtees,’ Ruth said. ‘Your solicitor is an expert in these things. Since you have asked for legal representation, I think it would be prudent to listen to him.’ She ran through the preliminaries for the benefit of the tape, then said, ‘The time is eighteen fifteen. Present are DCI Ruth Crinson and DI Rob Winter. Also Richard Drinkwater of Drinkwater and Bruce Solicitors, and John Surtees of twenty-two Amble Avenue, Sunderland.’
Drinkwater nodded as Ruth finished speaking. Ruth addressed Surtees. ‘So, Mr Surtees, please can you tell me how often you borrow a car owned by another member of your church?’
‘We often lend things to one another. If my car needs to go to the garage, someone will drive there with me when I take it in and then bring me home afterwards. Then they’ll take me back to pick it up. We all do that for each other. If someone needs a car and there’s one not being used, we’ll use that one.’
‘That’s very neighbourly,’ Ruth observed. ‘Tell me, are you each insured to drive the cars you borrow?’
‘Of course,’ said Surtees. ‘We wouldn’t do anything illegal.’
‘And since you have a standing agreement to … car share,’ said Ruth, ‘you don’t specifically ask every time?’
‘No. It’s more an understanding. An open invitation.’
‘Tell me, Mr Surtees, did you borrow George Cotter’s car with his knowledge the night you abducted little Annie Snowdon?’
‘Don’t answer that,’ said Drinkwater.
‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Surtees exclaimed.
‘As I told you earlier, Mr Surtees, Tina Snowdon has positively identified you as the driver of the car she and her sister got into on the night her sister was abducted and she escaped. We already know that the car in question belonged to George Cotter. So the question is quite straightforward: did Mr Cotter know you had his car that night, or did you take it under the spirit of your understanding?’
Surtees’ mouth worked but no sound came out. He undid the top button on his shirt, then undid the cuffs and rolled up his sleeves.
‘My client has no comment to make,’ said Drinkwater.
‘Was it you who arranged for the young people of the church to clean the car afterwards?’ Ruth asked.
Surtees looked at Drinkwater, who prompted him. ‘No comment,’ Drinkwater said, and Surtees echoed the words like a parrot.
‘What did you do with Annie Snowdon after you abducted her, Mr Surtees?’
‘No comment.’
‘Is Annie Snowdon still alive, or did you murder her?’
‘No comment.’
‘George Cotter told us that he had disposed of Annie’s body in the North Sea. He told us that he had thrown it into the water from the pier head. George Cotter lied when he told us that. Did you tell him to lie, Mr Surtees? Was he acting on your instructions when he falsely confessed to her abduction and murder?’
‘No comment.’
‘Oh come on, Mr Surtees!’ Ruth’s voice had been getting steadily louder and she was shouting now. ‘You took that little girl away from her family. What did you do to her? Did you rape her? Did you murder her? Did you wrap her body in a sheet of plastic and bury her in the woods? What did you do with Annie Snowdon, Mr Surtees? Where is she?’
‘I didn’t rape her!’
‘Then what did you do to her?’ Ruth slid the picture of eight-year-old Annie Snowdon over the table to Surtees. ‘What did you do to her, Mr Surtees?’
‘I … I …’ Surtees looked close to tears. He put his hand to his throat and grasped the crucifix he wore around his neck.
Drinkwater butted in. ‘When my client says he didn’t rape Annie Snowdon, he means that he could not have done that because he is not responsible for her disappearance. Isn’t that right, Mr Surtees?’
Drinkwater looked at Surtees. Surtees muttered a faint, ‘No comment.’
‘Mr Surtees, we asked a police artist to look at that same photograph you have in front of you now and to give us his impression of what Annie might look like now. She’ll be seventeen, if she’s still alive.’ Ruth slid the artist’s drawing over the table towards Surtees. It had seemed to make an impression on him earlier; she was hoping it would have a similar effect now. ‘Is that what she looks like, Mr Surtees?’
Surtees looked at it, recognition on his face.
‘Mr Surtees? Please answer the question.’
‘What question?’
‘Is that what Annie Snowdon looks like now?’
Surtees looked at Drinkwater, who waved a warning finger in front of his mouth. He looked at Ruth, held her gaze for what seemed like a long time. Then he spoke. ‘No comment,’ he said.
***
‘I swear to God, I’ll bloody swing for him,’ Ruth exclaimed later, in Hardcastle’s office.
‘Bloody Drinkwater! Why did it have to be him?’ Winter shared her exasperation.
‘The “No Comment Kid”,’ said Hardcastle. ‘Bloody bad luck.’ He yawned and looked at his watch. ‘Look folks, it’s getting late. Let’s call it a night. Go home, get some sleep. We’ll see just how chipper Surtees is after a night in the cells.’ He grinned. ‘There was a stag party down from Glasgow. They’re steaming and they’ve been fighting, half a dozen of them are now Mr Surtees’ neighbours in the cell block. I’m sure he’ll have a lovely night with that lot shouting, swearing, and throwing up. What with that and one of Sweaty Betty’s breakfasts in the morning, he’ll be a broken man when you next get him in the interview room.’
‘I’ll take whatever advantage I can get, sir,’ said Ruth.
Ruth Crinson and Rob Winter headed out to the car park. ‘Fancy a curry?’ Rob suggested.
Ruth nodded. ‘Good call,’ she said. ‘The one on the sea front?’
‘See you there.’
They each jumped in their car and headed off to their chosen restaurant. Ruth was glad Rob hadn’t suggested car sharing: she welcomed a few moments in her own space to sort her thoughts out. Surtees was guilty, of that she had no doubt. It choked her that Tina Snowdon was locked up when the likes of John Surtees and George Cotter enjoyed their freedom. She was equally convinced that Cotter was involved somehow, as were Barbara Neville and the young people of the church.
They’re like the Midwich bloody cuckoos,
she thought,
they seem to communicate almost telepathically.
She thought back to the search they had conducted of the church and the buildings and made a mental note to have a word with Webb to see if he had traced any property held in the name of Surtees or the church. She parked up on the sea front opposite the restaurant, pulled her car in behind Rob Winter’s and got out. She stretched as Rob got out of his car and joined her.
‘Slowcoach,’ Rob teased, grinning.
‘Don’t tell me, last one here picks up the tab.’
They headed over to the restaurant and were looking at menus and sipping on lager in the bar area prior to placing their order and being shown to their table. ‘Last time I was here was with Karen,’ Ruth told Rob. ‘It was just after she and Jimmy had split up. She was gutted. Even though she knew he was unhappy about the amount of time the job took, she had thought they were sound. Hit her like a ton of bricks when she found out about the affair.’
‘It was the same for me and Diane,’ Rob said. ‘Not that we were married, but I thought she was the one.’ The waiter came over to take their order.
‘How long ago was that,’ Ruth asked, when he left. ‘You and Diane?’