DS Jessica Daniel series: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water – Books 4–6 (9 page)

Harry finally glanced up at her but wouldn’t meet her eyes, staring off to Jessica’s right. He started as if to speak but began coughing before clearing his throat loudly, then
finally found his voice. ‘Detective Sergeant.’

It was an acknowledgement of sorts but his words had no real warmth to them. His north-east accent sounded heavier than Jessica remembered.

‘Are you all right, Harry?’

He nodded but didn’t speak. Jessica saw a bottle of whisky wedged in between his thigh and the chair’s armrest. Perhaps it was because she had seen the bottle but all of a sudden she
could smell the alcohol. It was more of an undercurrent to the stale odour she was becoming used to but the sharp scent was distinctive. Harry must have noticed her eyes because he pushed the
bottle towards the rear of the seat. When it was clear he wasn’t going to answer, Jessica spoke again. ‘I’m here because I was hoping you could help.’

Harry shifted his gaze back to the television and mumbled quietly, ‘I’m retired.’

‘I know but it’s about a case you worked on fourteen years ago. It’s important.’

He shuffled in his seat and Jessica didn’t think he was going to say anything. Not for the first time that day she was struggling to know how to handle a situation when Harry finally
replied. ‘What’s the name?’

Jessica had deliberately left the file in her car because she didn’t want to involve Harry too heavily and didn’t have a photo of the dead driver anyway if he was their link from the
old case to the new one. She remembered the name of the missing boy, having read everything available before leaving the station. She guessed they would be two words she wouldn’t be
forgetting in a while. ‘Toby Whittaker.’

Harry answered immediately but still didn’t look away from the television. ‘The missing boy.’

It wasn’t a question.

‘Yes.’

‘Did you find him?’

‘No, we . . . think we found his clothes.’

‘A Man City shirt.’ Again it wasn’t a question; Harry knew what he was talking about.

‘Yes, buried in some woods along with a pair of jeans.’

‘Did you find a body yet?’

‘No, a team’s going to excavate around the trees where we found the clothes. It’s a bit strange because the clothes were washed recently and bagged up before being buried.
Someone’s kept them all this time.’

Harry nodded, picking up a remote control from a small wooden table next to his chair and switching the television off. He finally looked at Jessica, who was still standing, meeting her eyes.
She could see a small twinkle in his that reminded her of working with him and, if you could look past the state of his skin, made him look younger. ‘I knew there was something not quite
right but I couldn’t figure it out,’ he said.

‘We’ve been reading back through the files but it doesn’t look as if you ever had a suspect.’

Harry shrugged, sitting up straighter. It was almost as if he was a new person as he spoke with enthusiasm. ‘Are you re-opening the case?’

‘We don’t know. It’s too early to say and it’s not up to me but I would think so.’

‘How did you find the clothes?’

Jessica winced a little, not wanting to go into too many details. ‘We were led there.’

‘There was another body, wasn’t there?’

Jessica didn’t want to shut down Harry’s enthusiasm as she still needed answers. ‘Yes, another child’s.’

‘Isaac Hutchings?’ Jessica was puzzled for a moment but remembered the missing boy had received some low-level media attention. As if reading her thoughts, Harry continued. ‘I
still keep up with everything.’

When they had worked together, Harry had always spent time each morning reading the newspapers. His knowledge was borderline encyclopaedic. It didn’t surprise Jessica that he was still
keeping up to date. She spoke slowly, weighing up how much she should give away. ‘Yes, Isaac.’

Harry pointed towards a dining table in the far corner of the room. It was made of white plastic and looked as if it belonged outside. Two fold-up stools were leaning against it.

‘Grab a chair,’ he said. Jessica did just that, carrying it across so she was sitting in front of him. Harry was angling forward in his seat and the smell of alcohol was much
stronger because of his proximity to her. ‘What do you want to know?’ he asked.

‘Who were your suspects?’

Harry smiled but it was more as if he was enjoying feeling a part of something again than any fond memories of the case. ‘You always look at the parents first. They were right characters
and always bickering. I saw them have two blazing rows with each other and I only went to their house three times. I never thought it was either of them though. You get a feeling and they both had
alibis. We looked into other family members but there was nothing I remember. There was this neighbour . . .’

Jessica was about to give him the name but Harry waved his hand to stop her. He made an ‘um’ noise for a few moments before clicking his fingers.

‘Someone “Hill”. “Simon Hill”, that’s the guy. He used to live a few doors down from the Whittakers. There was some sort of dispute and I spoke to him. There
wasn’t enough to say he was involved but there was something not quite right about him.’

‘How do you mean?’

Harry breathed in deeply, scratching his head. ‘I don’t know. I couldn’t figure it out but he didn’t like being investigated.’

‘Do you think he was involved?’

‘Maybe, his only alibi was his wife but I couldn’t find anything specifically to say he was lying. Some people just stick in your head as not being right.’ Harry stabbed his
index finger into his temple as if to emphasise the point.

Jessica couldn’t believe the turnaround in him over just a few minutes. He had gone from being sullen and withdrawn to being upbeat and interested. His memory was astonishing too. She knew
from experience it had always been good and he could comfortably recall events and people from years previously but, given the state he appeared to be in, the attention to detail was
remarkable.

‘Was there anyone else?’ Jessica asked but Harry was already nodding before she finished the question.

‘There was a teacher. One of Toby’s friends said something about the two of them having a close relationship. We spoke to him but you know what it’s like with teachers and so
on, you have to be careful what you accuse them of. There was no evidence of anything untoward and maybe it was just a bloke who wanted to help. You know what I’m like –
suspicious.’

Harry gave a small laugh but Jessica felt a chill go down her back. She wondered if she did know what he was like but tried to forget everything that happened three years ago, at least for now.
Her priority was getting the information she needed.

‘Can you remember the teacher’s name?’ she asked. She had read it in the file but wondered if Harry’s memory stretched that far.

‘Ian someone.’ Harry shook his head as if trying to jog his memory before finally admitting defeat. ‘Sorry, I can’t remember the last name.’

Jessica got to her feet. ‘Have you still got my phone number?’ Harry had an initial look of disappointment but quickly stood.

‘Yes.’ His response sounded like an apology for not contacting her; he didn’t know that, until now, Jessica hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. There was a moment
where he looked at her and Jessica thought about asking him the question that had been in her mind for three years: ‘Did you help Nigel Collins become Randall Anderson?’ Would he even
know the significance of those names? Did she want to know the answer? It was as if the man she would have once called a friend was reading her mind again as Harry looked at her expectantly.

‘I’ve got to go,’ Jessica said. She didn’t trust herself to stay quiet and walked past Harry towards the front door. She was about to open it when she heard him shouting
behind her.

‘“Sturgess”.’ Jessica turned around and saw Harry entering the hallway. ‘“Sturgess”, that was the teacher’s name. “Ian
Sturgess”.’ Jessica faced him and nodded to indicate she knew he was right.

‘Call me if you think of anything else,’ she said before opening the door and making her way quickly back to her car.

Rain continued to fall as Jessica sat in her vehicle. Everything Harry had told her was already in Toby Whittaker’s file, but it had helped to hear it from someone
involved and she knew there were now two names to concentrate on – Simon Hill, the neighbour, and Ian Sturgess, the teacher.

She phoned the station where DI Reynolds said the dig at the woods would be beginning the following day. Jessica told him what she had found out and they agreed to meet again in the morning.
Someone would be assigned to find out what Hill and Sturgess were up to nowadays, which would hopefully be straightforward.

Jessica drove home but thoughts of Harry swirled in her mind to such a degree that she wasn’t even annoyed by the queuing traffic and falling rain. Something made her wonder if she would
ever see him again.

As she pulled into the parking space outside her block of flats and switched off the engine, it took her a few moments to get her bearings. It felt as if she had completed the journey without
any conscious thought of where she was heading. Picking up the photocopy of Toby Whittaker’s file from the passenger seat, she held it under her armpit so her jacket would shield it from the
rain. Hopping out, she locked the car and bolted down the pathway to her front door, her head down as she ran. As she neared the porch Jessica felt her foot connect with something and found herself
falling forwards. Her first thought was to hold onto the file, which she managed to do at the expense of her forehead which crashed head-first into the doorframe.

Jessica’s head felt fuzzy as she tried to turn to see exactly what had happened. Before she could swivel completely she heard the person’s voice.

‘Oh God, Jess, I’m so sorry.’

Caroline Bateman was Jessica’s oldest friend and they had known each other for over fifteen years. They had travelled together, moved to Manchester at the same time and
shared a flat before drifting apart and finally reconciling shortly before Caroline’s wedding almost a year and a half ago.

Jessica stood, still feeling a little groggy from the fall, and turned to see Caroline also getting to her feet. She could see two large rucksacks on the ground, one of which she had fallen
over. ‘What are you . . . ?’ Jessica started to ask but her friend’s tear-streaked face stopped her.

‘It’s over . . .’ Caroline was crying uncontrollably, a combination of the rain and her own sobs drenching her face. Jessica put down the file on the floor underneath the
overhang of the porch and pulled the other woman into a hug.

‘What’s over?’

‘Between me and Tom, I’ve left him.’ Jessica had been a mixture of chief bridesmaid and ‘father’ of the bride at her friend’s wedding to Thomas Bateman. She
didn’t know him that well but had met him on plenty of occasions. This was the first she had heard of any problems between them.

Jessica released her. ‘Let’s go inside, you’re soaking.’

She picked up both of her friend’s bags, wedged the file under her arm, and then led Caroline upstairs to her flat. The other woman seemed in a daze and followed without saying anything.
After getting inside, Jessica took her friend into the kitchen and gave her a towel while putting the kettle on. Jessica rarely made hot drinks for herself but she knew Caroline was an avid
tea-drinker. They sat opposite each other at the table, her friend half-heartedly drying her hair.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Jessica asked.

Caroline had stopped sobbing and put the towel on the table. ‘You were right,’ she said, not looking up.

‘About what?’

‘Do you remember when I got married and I asked if you thought I was on the rebound from Randall? I wanted you to say “no” but you just said you didn’t know. The problem
was that I knew, but I didn’t want to admit it.’

Jessica could feel the burden of Randall and therefore Harry hanging over her even more heavily than before.

Caroline stared at a spot on the table. ‘We’ve been arguing on and off for ages. He’s always at work but it’s not even that. I just don’t love him. It’s taken
me all this time to admit it. We had a massive row this morning and I ended up telling him I hated him.’

‘Oh, Caz . . .’

‘It’s okay. The thing is it feels awful but, at the same time, it feels like everything has been lifted too. I’ve known since before the wedding it wasn’t going to work
out but it’s taken until now to say anything.’

Caroline made a noise that was somewhere between a laugh and another sob before they were interrupted by the sound of the kettle boiling and clicking off. Jessica made two cups of tea, even
though she wasn’t that bothered, and put one down in front of her friend, hanging onto the other one to warm her hands.

‘What are you going to do?’ she asked.

Caroline picked up her own cup then looked at Jessica. ‘I was hoping I could stay here for a while until I’ve figured it all out. I don’t know yet.’

‘That’s fine but isn’t it your flat you were sharing?’

‘It was. I took out the mortgage but then added Tom onto it. It’s both of ours but he doesn’t have anywhere to go. I just want somewhere to stay for a bit until we’ve
decided what to do.’

‘Have you told him it’s over?’

Caroline looked away again and moved the cup in front of her face, as if trying to hide behind it. ‘Sort of.’

‘You have to say something; it’s not fair to him otherwise.’

‘I wrote him a letter and left. I said I was coming here and asked him to leave me for a few days.’

Jessica offered a thin smile. ‘I guess that’s better than a text message.’

Caroline laughed a little. ‘I feel like a right bitch.’

Jessica wanted to say something comforting but, after a short pause, the best she could manage was, ‘Come on; let’s find you some dry clothes.’

The rest of the evening was spent watching television and not saying much. Caroline clearly didn’t want to talk any further, while Jessica still had the case on her mind. She read through
Toby Whittaker’s file a couple of times, looking to see if there was anything she might have missed. As she read, she could only come up with more questions about how Toby and Isaac could be
connected and whether the anonymous driver was the person who had taken both boys. She hadn’t had a useable photograph to show to Harry, Kayla Hutchings or Daisy Peters. They would look back
into Simon Hill and Ian Sturgess in the absence of any other leads, while also trying to identify the driver.