Authors: Kerry Wilkinson
‘After I left the station, I picked Chloe up from judo . . .’
Jessica interrupted before Rowlands could finish his sentence. ‘She does judo?’
‘Yeah, she’s a blue belt.’
Wondering if she had misheard, Jessica queried: ‘A black belt?’
‘No, blue, it’s a few levels down.’
Jessica didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. ‘So she’s a bit shit then?’
‘Well, put it this way, she could kick my arse.’
‘
I
could kick your arse.’
Rowlands sounded outraged but Jessica suspected he agreed with her. ‘Whatever. Anyway, she could kick both of our arses, probably together.’
‘So why isn’t she a black belt?’
‘Because you work your way up. You start at white, then there’s yellow and a few others. Anyway, red’s the highest.’
Jessica had no idea what she was talking about but didn’t want to concede the point. ‘What about black?’
‘I don’t know, I just know red’s the highest.’
‘So, hang on, if she’s not even black – and that’s not the highest – how hard can she be?’
‘Why are we even talking about this? Do you want to fight her or something?’
‘I don’t know, maybe. Blue belt sounds a bit crap.’
Rowlands was laughing. ‘Okay, well, I’ll tell her that. Anyway, after I picked her up, we went to the Palace Theatre.’
Jessica indicated to pull around a stationary car and flashed her lights at a driver on the opposite side of the road who didn’t give way. ‘Oh, piss right off.
You
went to
the theatre? This time last year you’d spend your evenings drinking cans of Carling and playing PlayStation games.’
‘This time last year you kept taking the piss
because
I spent my evenings drinking cans of Carling and playing PlayStation games.’
‘Exactly, that was way better. Right, what did you do after that?’
‘I thought you didn’t want to know that bit.’
Even more annoyed than she had been when she set off, Jessica ignored him and continued driving. Deep down she was pleased he was doing all right. The problem was deeper than that, she
was
a little jealous he seemed to be settling down. With everything that was going on in the case – as well as having Caroline staying at her flat – Jessica could feel an
invisible burden upon her.
The haulage firm was based in an industrial area similar to the one Jessica had visited with Reynolds the day before. Tall metal gates surrounded the structure, with the company’s name
printed across a large blue sign at the front. Jessica parked the car and they steadily made their way across the icy pavement into the large courtyard. The tarmac was covered with a layer of
frost, only broken by long patches of clear ground where lorries would have been waiting overnight. Slowly, Jessica and Rowlands walked across to a small structure not far from the main gate. It
was barely bigger than a caravan but Jessica could see the grey brick building had wire mesh across each of its windows.
She knocked on the door and heard a gruff ‘come in’ from inside. As they entered, there was a man with his feet on a desk leaning back in a comfy-looking office chair. He peered
around a newspaper with a curious look on his face, clearly not used to dealing with people who wore suits. Jessica would have guessed he was somewhere in his fifties. He had closely cropped grey
hair with the same shade of stubble on his chin. Putting his feet on the floor, he dropped the paper on the desk but didn’t stand. Behind him on the wall was a large map of the UK, along with
four foil Santa faces. Loose strands of tinsel lined the front of the desk. In the corner was a small fake Christmas tree on a table with a string of fairy lights wrapped around it, blinking. As
far as decorations went, Jessica thought it was about as half-hearted an effort as she would make.
‘Who are you?’ he asked in a broad local accent. Both detectives took out their identification and the man rolled his eyes. He spoke before either of them could say anything.
‘Christ alive, haven’t you got proper crimes to be solving? There are old ladies out there being attacked and you keep coming around here.’
Jessica had no idea what he was talking about but didn’t want to let him know that. ‘Why do you think we’re here?’
He tutted, rolling his eyes again and pointing outside as if to emphasise his point. ‘Look, I’ve checked all the tyres and they’re fine. The log books are in order, the
paperwork is all filed away. If you want to be pricks, then go ahead but you won’t find anything.’
It was Jessica’s turn to roll her eyes. ‘Blimey, you’re a smooth talker. I bet you’re a massive hit with the ladies,’ she said sarcastically.
The man leant forward in his chair. ‘This is harassment. I know my rights.’
‘Do you really?’
‘Yeah, I know you can’t keep coming around here.’
‘I didn’t know you were so up to date with all the various laws and legal rulings. Are you a part-time lawyer on the side? You know, lorry firm by day, legal advice by
night?’
He was clearly confused, undermining his claim to knowing the law. ‘What?’
Jessica couldn’t be bothered winding him up any further so sat in the seat across the table from him. There was a plastic-looking plaque on the desk with the man’s name and
‘President’ engraved underneath it. If it were made of an expensive metal, it would have been the type of thing found in a boardroom. Jessica pulled a face as she read the words.
‘Right then, Mr President, believe it or not we’re not here to check your vehicles’ tyres, go over your paperwork or look at any of the log books. We simply want to ask about one
of your employees.’
He clearly didn’t believe her but acted as if he would play along. ‘Who?’
‘Simon Hill.’
‘Si?’
‘If that’s what you call him.’
The man looked as if he was trying to figure out what the officers were really up to. ‘What about him?’
‘How long has he worked here?’
Jessica kept a steady gaze as he shook his head. ‘I don’t know, ages. Ten years? Probably longer.’
‘What does he do?’
‘He’s just one of the drivers.’
Jessica nodded and could hear the gentle scratches of Rowlands making notes behind her. It wasn’t that they wouldn’t remember anything but it helped add to the pressure and Jessica
was glad he had almost read her mind by taking his pad out.
‘Where do you send him that means he needs to be away for weeks at a time?’ she asked.
The man shunted his chair back a little, scrunching up his face. ‘What are you on about?’
‘It’s a simple question – where does he drive for you?’
‘What do you mean? I told you all the log books are in order.’ He clearly thought the detectives were trying to pull some sort of trick.
Jessica sighed and leant forward. ‘Just answer the question. Where does he drive for you?’
‘I don’t know, a few places, mainly up north. He goes to Scotland for some bits and usually goes via the northeast on the way up. Newcastle or Middlesbrough, places like
that.’
‘So he doesn’t go on long journeys abroad or anywhere?’
‘No, he’s only part-time. I’ve only got one or two guys who go to Europe. Why, what’s the problem?’
There was a short pause, where even Rowlands’s pen had stopped writing. Jessica felt she had to check the information. ‘So Simon Hill works for you but only part-time and he never
does jobs that take longer than a day or two?’
‘So what? I’ve got the paperwork to prove it.’ He was being overly aggressive and Jessica took photocopies of the documents just to confirm it.
The owner may have had issues with the police over various things but everything he handed over seemed to be in order. The two detectives left the office and walked slowly back to
Jessica’s car.
Rowlands spoke first when they were far enough away from the office so there was no danger of being overheard. ‘What was that?’
‘I don’t know but something’s not right.’
‘You think he was lying?’
‘No, and I don’t think Simon’s wife was either. For whatever reason she thinks her husband spends weeks at a time on driving jobs.’
Rowlands said what they were both thinking. ‘But if he’s not working then where is he?’ Jessica didn’t reply but, given Hill’s possible connection to Toby Whittaker
fourteen years ago, finding out was their new priority. That was until her phone begun to ring, with DI Reynolds’s name flashing up.
Jessica answered, wanting to tell him what they had found but not getting a chance before he started speaking. ‘Jess, you remember that list of children you found at that
allotment?’
She felt a shiver go down her spine unrelated to the weather. It was something she would never forget. ‘Of course.’
‘One of the other kids has gone missing.’
Lloyd Corless looked at the duvet cover but couldn’t bring himself to smile.
‘Come on Lloyd, it’s football, I know you like football.’
Lloyd did enjoy football and he liked the players on the duvet cover – but he didn’t understand why he couldn’t go home. He had been told that his mum was hurt, and got in the
car. He had expected to be taken to the hospital but instead they had come here. Lloyd asked why they couldn’t go to the hospital but he was told that visiting hours were over. It
didn’t sound very convincing.
After the person had left, the boy lay on the bed, peering around the rest of the room. There were so many things that in normal circumstances he would have enjoyed. On the wall were posters of
more footballers and of a few cartoons and films Lloyd liked. There was a PlayStation connected to a television in the corner and a satellite box underneath so he could watch whatever channel he
wanted. There was even a brand-new computer game among the stack in the drawers. He had wanted to play for ages but his mum kept saying he was too young. Lloyd had thought things would be more fun
without his mum around to nag at him, but was now feeling pretty worried about her.
One thing which did annoy him was that his phone had been taken away. Lloyd had only been given it a few months ago and, even then, his mum told him to use it only for emergencies as he was too
young to be using it for anything else. One of his friends had sent him some jokes he didn’t really understand and he played a few games on it but, other than that, he had done as she had
asked. If he still had it on him, he would use it to call his mum. She had said to only use it if he absolutely had to but surely, if she was in hospital, that would be allowed?
Lloyd got off the bed again and walked around the room. The carpet was soft on his bare feet and it did at least feel warm. He had never been in an attic before. When he had been told to head up
the ladder into the roof, he hadn’t known what to think. To find a whole room up here was astonishing – something he had never seen anywhere else. It was strange that he was tall enough
to stretch up and touch the ceiling in some areas. It sloped up to a steep point where he definitely couldn’t reach, which was where the window was, but it was all a new experience.
Before being left on his own he was told not to worry about his mum but something didn’t seem quite right. He asked where his brother Marcus was but got no response.
The boy completed another lap of the room, running his hand around the wall and touching the low parts of the ceiling where he could reach. He wondered if he would be back with his mum in time
for Christmas. He knew she was getting him the big robot which changed into a lorry from his favourite movie but didn’t know what else he might end up with. He wondered if he would still get
the robot if he had to stay in the attic.
As Lloyd continued to examine the room, he began to feel tired. It was still early, at least a few hours until his usual bedtime, but his eyes were feeling heavy. It was strange because he
rarely felt sleepy. His mum would tell him it was bedtime but he would often spend a while playing games on his phone without her realising.
As his legs grew sluggish, Lloyd lay on the bed again. He had enjoyed his most-recent meal – sausage and chips was his favourite. His food had already been covered with a generous helping
of tomato ketchup but he didn’t really mind.
The boy stared at the window high above, trying to keep his eyes open. He could see the stars through the glass and thought about the PlayStation games in the drawer, wondering what he might get
up to the next day. Earlier he had been told that he didn’t have to go to school any longer. At first it sounded good but then he realised he wouldn’t see his friends. He kept thinking
about his mum, hoping his brother Marcus was looking after her.
As Lloyd’s eyelids flickered and closed, he drifted into a sleep consumed with dreams of his mother lying in a hospital bed somewhere.
Jessica scowled at DCI Cole, making sure both DI Reynolds and DS Cornish were well aware of her displeasure. Just in case there were any doubts about her opinion, she clarified
it as emphatically as she could.
‘This is complete bollocks,’ she said.
After speaking to Reynolds, Jessica had driven back to the station with Dave before joining a meeting with the inspector, the chief inspector and Cornish in the DCI’s office.
Cole leant back in his office chair, exchanging a look with Reynolds across the desk. The two of them had worked with Jessica for long enough to know that tact wasn’t one of her strong
points. Louise would have no doubt figured that out for herself in the past eighteen months too.
The DCI looked back at Jessica. ‘Whatever you might think, this is what’s happening. The Serious Crime Division has a specialist kidnap unit and they have to deal with it.’
‘But we’re dealing with Isaac Hutchings’s murder and skirting around Toby Whittaker’s too. We found Lloyd Corless’s name on a list that connects both those cases
and now you’re saying we can’t be involved with investigating his disappearance?’
Cole spoke firmly. ‘No, I’m saying it’s not up to us to lead anything. If you and Jason want to talk to the victim’s mother, we can have you work with the kidnap squad,
but it’s that or nothing.’