‘What is his role in the church?’
‘He leads the Young People’s Fellowship.’
‘What does that mean, exactly?’
‘Well, he organises the things that the young people do.’
‘Such as?’
‘Prayer meetings, Bible study classes, outreach work, helping out the older people of the church, that kind of thing.’
‘Car cleaning?’
Surtees swallowed. ‘Sometimes.’
‘Would he have been responsible for arranging the cleaning of George Cotter’s car after the abduction of Annie Snowdon?’
‘That I couldn’t say. I think that was just on a regular cleaning rota.’
Ruth rolled her eyes. ‘And where is Jason Christopher now?’
‘On retreat. As I said.’
‘Where on retreat?’
‘Um … Northumberland, I believe. Yes, Northumberland.’
‘Northumberland is a large county. Where exactly in Northumberland is he?’
‘Why are you so interested in Jason?’
‘We want to ask him some questions. About the missing children, Mr Surtees.’
‘Well, he wasn’t around—’
‘Nevertheless, we want to ask him some questions.’
‘What questions? Why?’
‘So we can eliminate him from our enquiries, Mr Surtees.’
‘But he’s not a part of your enquiry. He wasn’t here at the time. You don’t need to eliminate someone who wasn’t even here.’
‘Mr Surtees. Please just tell me where he is.’
‘Remember that you don’t have to answer,’ Drinkwater chipped in.
‘I don’t see what there is to be so cagey about,’ said Ruth, keen to push Surtees and avoid him clamming up. ‘If, as you say, Jason Christopher has nothing to do with what happened, then you aren’t doing him any favours by making him look as though he has something to hide.’ She paused. ‘Unless, of course, you know that he does.’
‘No, he doesn’t,’ exclaimed Surtees. ‘He’s a good man. He has nothing to hide.’
‘We will find the retreat, Mr Surtees, with or without your help. If you help us, it looks better for you.’
Surtees wrung his hands. ‘Okay then,’ he said at last. ‘Have you something I could write with?’
Ruth Crinson and Rob Winter set out early the next morning for their drive up to Otterburn in Northumberland. It was a beautiful day and once they had left the motorway the scenery was delightful. Pains had been taken not to alert Jason Christopher to their impending visit; they wanted the element of surprise.
It was just before nine when Winter turned off the main road and guided the car between the pair of brick pillars that marked the entranceway to the house the church used when its members wanted to withdraw from everyday society. He cruised slowly up the drive.
‘Impressive,’ said Ruth, taking in the detached mansion house and the tidily kept lawns and garden at the front. ‘I wonder how they got their hands on this?’
‘Probably conned it out of the previous owner and got it in a dodgy will.’ Rob put the handbrake on and turned off the ignition. They got out of the car and stretched, stiff after the journey, and looked at the house. There was no sign of life anywhere and yet Ruth had the unmistakable sensation that they were being watched. They were heading towards the steps that led up to the front door when it opened.
‘Welcome,’ said the man who stood before them. ‘Please, come in.’ He stood back and they entered the house. The hall they found themselves in was a large space; there was a flight of stairs ahead of them and a number of doors leading off the central area. ‘Breakfast is finished, but I’ve arranged for sandwiches and coffee.’ The man smiled. ‘But I’m getting ahead of myself. You probably want to … wash your hands after your journey. DCI Crinson, there is a bathroom to your right that the ladies use,’ he indicated the door, then pointed to another. ‘And that one is for gentlemen, DI Winter.’
‘You were expecting us.’
‘Indeed. Mr Drinkwater is an active member of our church. He was kind enough to tell us we should expect visitors.’
Ruth cursed inwardly. She looked at Winter and reckoned his expression matched hers.
‘I’m Matthew,’ the man told them as he led them through to the rear of the house a short time later. I look after the house and the grounds, and make sure everyone has what they need while they’re here.’ He showed them into a large, sunny kitchen and directed them towards a refectory table in the centre of the space. They seated themselves and a young woman placed a pot of coffee and a jug of milk alongside the sugar bowl, mugs, and plates that were already in place. She moved away, then returned with a plate of bacon sandwiches. They smelled delicious and Rob and Ruth suddenly realised they were hungry.
‘Thank you, Rachael,’ said Matthew and the girl nodded and moved away once more. Ruth saw her leave the kitchen through the door they’d entered by, then it was just the three of them. ‘Help yourselves,’ said Matthew. He poured drinks as they ate.
‘These are delicious,’ said Rob as he reached for another sandwich.
‘We bake the bread fresh every morning,’ said Matthew. ‘We keep chickens, and we grow some fruits and vegetables here, too. Some members of the church like to help out while they’re here.’
‘How many are with you at the moment?’ Ruth asked.
‘We have ten guests at the moment,’ Matthew answered, ‘and four staff, including me.’
‘Does the church own this property, Matthew?’ Ruth asked, wondering why Webb’s searching had drawn a blank.
Matthew hesitated. ‘It’s owned by a subsidiary organisation,’ he said, then turned as someone came into the kitchen through the garden door. ‘Ah, Jason, come and meet our guests.’
A young man took a seat at the table with them and poured himself a cup of coffee. ‘DCI Crinson and DI Winter,’ he said, nodding at them. ‘I believe you wanted to talk to me. I’m Jason Christopher.’
Ruth took a long look at the young man opposite as she finished her sandwich. He was tall and lean, with blue eyes and collar-length black hair, a Travolta-style dimple in his chin. Handsome. If you liked that sort of thing.
A little later, Matthew having made himself scarce, Rob, Ruth and Jason Christopher got down to business.
‘Mr Christopher,’ Ruth began, opening her notebook.
‘Please, call me Jason,’ the young man said.
‘Jason, then. Can you tell me about your involvement with the Ebenezer Tabernacle?’
‘Sure. What do you want to know?’
‘What exactly is your role there?’
Jason sat back in his chair and stretched his legs out. ‘Well, I’m responsible for the YPF, the Young People’s Fellowship. I organise the meetings, the outreach work, the kindnesses we do for church members—’
‘Such as the car cleaning rota?’
‘I initiated that, yes. Now the young people organise all that themselves, along with shopping and other things we do.’
‘But you instigated it?’
‘Yes, it was my idea that we do a kindness for those who show kindness to us. With the cars, it’s a thank you for the lifts and favours drivers do for us.’
‘Do you drive, Jason?’
‘Is there a point to this questioning, DCI Crinson?’
‘Just gathering general information. Getting a feel for how things work and where you fit.’
‘Well, I established the YPF in its current incarnation. With God’s help I built it up from humble beginnings into the strong Christian band we have now. We’re a fellowship, a family, each of us is God’s child.’
‘How do you go about adding to the family?’
‘We carry out specific outreach activities. Even if we don’t have a big evangelical event, we spend a lot of time at the seaside in the summer. It makes sense, there are lots of people there then. We make sure we’re in the town over the Christmas period when people are shopping. We leaflet the local area and we door knock regularly, too. More than once we’ve saved someone, not just in Christ, but literally saved their lives, they were in such despair when we met them.’
‘That must be very gratifying for you.’
Jason turned to face Ruth, pulled his chair round and put his elbows on the table. ‘You don’t understand. It doesn’t matter how it makes me feel. What matters is that someone who was in despair is given hope. Someone accepts Christ into his or her life and gains eternal salvation.’ He was looking into Ruth’s eyes as he spoke, his voice persuasive, his gaze, she had to admit, almost mesmerising. ‘I am the least part of that equation. I am merely an instrument for God to use to do His work.’ He mantained eye contact. ‘You should come to the church, DCI Crinson. See for yourself. Accept Christ into your heart. Salvation is waiting for you. Jesus loves you, he asks only that you take the first step.’
‘How do you earn your living, Jason?’ asked Rob Winter, sick of the man’s posturing.
‘I don’t actually earn a living as such. Whatever I need is provided for me by the church.’
‘You must have some personal money, surely. What if you want to buy a present for someone? Or even just some chewing gum?’
‘I receive a small … stipend, you might call it. It was classed as pocket money when I was a child. Other than that, I live either here or in a flat owned by the YPF.’
‘Where is the flat?’
‘Park View House, on Park Drive. I live in flat number four.’
‘How long have you been a part of the church, Jason?’ asked Ruth.
‘Do you pay tax on your income?’ asked Rob at the same time, with the result they talked over each other.
Jason looked from one to the other before he spoke. ‘I’ve been part of the church my whole life and no, I don’t pay tax because I don’t have a high enough income.’ He paused, hands together in front in an attitude of prayer. ‘Am I under investigation?’ he asked Ruth, eyes boring into hers again.
‘No, Jason, you aren’t.’
‘So why don’t you get to the point? I have things to do today. I can’t spare you much more time and it would be a shame if you wasted yours on this line of questioning and didn’t get to ask what you really want to know.’
‘And what do you think that might be?’ asked Ruth.
Jason moved his hands apart in an open gesture. ‘I really have no idea,’ he said. ‘but I doubt you came here to ask me how much tax I pay. To be honest, I simply cannot imagine what you think I, or any other member of the church, might have done to warrant so much attention from the police.’
‘Aren’t you aware of George Cotter and his activities?’
‘I’m aware that poor George was falsely imprisoned, then on his release was stabbed by a very disturbed young girl. I should have thought any investigation would be aimed at finding the real perpetrators of the original crime.’
‘Jason, did you instruct the YPF to clean George Cotter’s car after Annabelle and Christina Snowdon were abducted from Heworth Metro station nine years ago?’
Jason faced them, hands in an open gesture, palms up, made eye contact with each of them in turn. ‘I have done nothing wrong. If I or any other member of the YPF cleaned George’s car at that time, it was pure coincidence.’
‘Do you recognise this girl?’ Ruth slid a photograph of Annie, aged eight, over the table toward Jason.
He studied it, then shook his head. ‘I don’t remember ever seeing this girl. I presume this is Annie Snowdon?’
Ruth nodded.
‘Well then, I didn’t know the family and I didn’t know her.’
‘How about this girl? This is what we think Annie would look like now, if she’s still alive.’ Ruth slid over the artist’s impression that had had such an effect on John Surtees.
‘No,’ said Jason. ‘I haven’t seen Annie, ever.’ Ruth noticed he didn’t look at the image. ‘And now, I really must be getting on. I have responsibilities, things to attend to.’ He stood and pushed his chair under the table. ‘Matthew will get you anything you need before you leave.’
‘One last thing,’ said Ruth. ‘When will you be back in Sunderland?’
‘I plan to go back next week. Probably Tuesday.’
‘Here’s my card,’ said Ruth. ‘If you think of anything that might be helpful, give me a call.’
Jason Christopher picked it up and slid it into the back pocket of his jeans. ‘Have a safe journey,’ he said, then turned and left the kitchen by way of the garden door.
***
‘What did you make of that?’ Winter asked Crinson as he nosed the car through the brick pillars and turned onto the road for the drive back.
‘He seems to believe what he’s saying. I don’t believe him, though.’
‘He’s a bit of a freak.’
‘Some would say “charismatic”,’ mused Ruth, thinking about the way Jason Christopher had held her gaze while he was speaking to her. She could see how a ploy like that might affect the young and inexperienced.
‘There’s something off about him.’
‘You can see why the girls like him. He’s a good looking lad.’
‘Bet they’re queuing up to do him a kindness.’
Ruth snorted. ‘I dare say he’ll have had more than his fair share of that.’
‘Mind, it’s no wonder Webb couldn’t find any property if that house is in the name of a subsidiary.’