by M A Comley
“For a second there, I thought he was going to tell me to take over the case,” Katy said, shaking her head.
“Hey, you’re bloody welcome to it, matey. I could do without him hanging around my neck all day.”
“No, thanks. I either work under you or ask for a transfer. I wouldn’t relish having to deal with the added stress of what you have to deal with day in, day out. Do you think you should apologise to him?”
“Are you mad? No, I don’t think that, and I refuse to do it. He’s in the wrong here, not me.”
“Okay. Do you think we should get back to working the case then? Emma Lansbury is still missing. It’s not her fault her godfather has screwed up.”
“Point taken. Let me finish my coffee, and I’ll be out to hold a meeting to see where we’re at. Give me five minutes.”
Katy smiled and left the office.
Lorne was still seething about the way Sean had spoken to her. Whether a friend of his was missing or not, there was no excuse for the way he was acting. “I wish you were here to guide me, Pete. You’d know what to do to put Sean in his place,” she mumbled, moving away from the desk to look out the window. The clouds were low and heavy, reflecting her mood. Why the hell didn’t I stay at home this morning? Because I’m too much of a professional. Now, shake this off and get back to the job in hand—finding Emma Lansbury. Forget she’s Sean’s goddaughter. Do it for her sake, not his.
She left the room, placed a false smile on her face and made her way over to the whiteboard. “Okay, we’re a little behind this morning. DCI Roberts was right about one thing—I shouldn’t have neglected my manners and forgotten to say good morning to you all. I’ll correct that now. Good morning, team. Right, perhaps you can fill me in on what the appeal brought in last night. Karen, why don’t you go first?”
Karen fidgeted in her chair a little. “To be honest, boss, I don’t have very much for you at all. A few possible sightings of the car. I’ve asked the local police forces to check those out, and I’m waiting on news on that. Apart from that, the response has been disheartening to say the least.”
“That is very disappointing. Let’s hope one of those leads comes up trumps. We’ve got very little else to go on. Were they at least in the right location?”
“Yes, definitely in the right location,” Karen confirmed.
“That’s one thing, I suppose. Have there been many calls this morning?”
“A few, but nothing of importance,” Katy replied, looking downbeat.
Lorne clapped her hands. “Hey, the last thing we need is to start getting down about our progress. I’m sure a break is on the horizon. It has to be. Let’s keep at it, folks. Katy, you and I need to venture out this morning.”
“We do? Where to?”
“The homeless centre where Emma volunteered.”
“Oh right. I forgot all about that. Want to shoot off now?”
“Why not? There’s nothing more we can do around here, and it’ll keep a certain person at more than arm’s length, if you get what I mean.”
Katy smiled. “There is that. I’ll get my coat and nip to the loo.”
“Why don’t the rest of you keep examining the information that filtered in last night? Something might come to mind with fresh eyes. We shouldn’t be long. I hope more calls come in this morning. Not sure where the investigation will lead if something significant doesn’t show up soon.” She went back in her office and unhooked her coat from the stand just as the phone on her desk rang. “DI Warner. How can I help?”
“I’m sorry. The way I spoke to you was unforgivable. Please don’t let my pig-headedness stand in the way of you conducting the investigation properly, Lorne.”
She sighed. “Of course it won’t, Sean. I’m glad you’ve realised you were in the wrong. You need to take a step back and leave my team and me to get on with the case without any interruptions. I’m sorry for threatening you. You pushed me to my limit.”
“I appreciate that. I know you’re never late normally. I repeat—I’m sorry.”
“It’s forgotten about. I need to make you aware that Tony wasn’t good last night. His stump was bleeding. The real reason I was late this morning was because I was caring for my disabled husband, although he would kill me if he ever heard me using those words.”
“Shit. Now I feel worse than ever. Is there anything I can do? Does he have an infection?”
“We think we did enough to prevent an infection setting in, but only time will tell on that one. Sheba collided with him while they were playing. It just goes to prove how fragile he really is.”
“Did you really tell him about yesterday?” Sean asked quietly.
“No. I felt that I needed to get my own back on you and lashed out when I shouldn’t have. I would never tell Tony that. I need you to ensure such an incident never happens again, Sean.”
He let out a long breath. “You have my guarantee on that. I’ve barely slept all night, reprimanding myself constantly for being an utter shit. I’m an emotional wreck because of Emma—although I’m not using her abduction as an excuse, I swear.”
“I believe you. Hey, it’s forgotten about. I have to go. Katy and I are visiting the homeless shelter to see if they can shed any light on possible suspects or incidences that Emma might have found herself in during the last few months.”
“Good idea. If you find anything out, will you let me know?”
“That goes without saying, Sean.”
“Lorne, thank you for putting up with me being a shit. It truly wasn’t intentional.”
“If you say so. Let’s agree to move on for the sake of our old friendship and our future working relationship.”
“Agreed. Good luck.”
Lorne ended the call and left the incident room, joining Katy at the top of the stairs.
“You look in a better mood,” Katy noted as they made their way down the stairs.
“Sean just rang to put things right between us.”
Katy stopped mid-stride. “What? He actually apologised to you?”
“Yep. Wonders will never cease, eh?”
“Bloody hell. I never thought I’d live to see that day happen.”
Lorne sniggered. “Me neither. It’s forgotten about now, so onwards and upwards. Let’s hope our showing up to question the staff triggers something useful.”
CHAPTER TEN
The homeless centre was a single-storey building at the end of a long alley that Lorne found incredibly hard to locate. “Crap, how are folks supposed to find this place? Those seeking refuge, I’m thinking about.”
“I suppose word of mouth. If these folks are hungry and cold enough, they’ll find a way of getting here.”
“That’s true. Let’s see what kind of reception we get.”
“Are you anticipating them being awkward?”
“I have no idea. Hazarding a guess, I suppose.” Lorne locked the car and followed Katy through the front door into the brightly coloured reception area.
A middle-aged woman looked up from her desk and welcomed them with a large, toothy smile. “Hello there. I’m Janice. How may I help you?”
Lorne and Katy flashed their IDs. “DI Lorne Warner and my partner, DS Katy Foster. Would it be possible to have a quick chat with the person in charge?”
“Of course. I’ll just see if Mr. Cathcart is available.” She picked up the phone, spoke rather loudly to the person on the other end then hung up.
“He was outside with a few of the members, having a game of basketball. He’ll be with you shortly. Can I get either of you a drink while you wait?”
“You’re very kind, but we’ll pass on the drink, thanks.”
Lorne and Katy moved away from the reception desk and over to the noticeboard. There were plenty of activities on offer and even a job advisor on site, according to the brochures pinned to the board.
A few minutes passed before a man wearing a grey tracksuit appeared. He was in his early forties and wore his long brown hair pulled back int
o a ponytail. He extended his hand to each of them.
Lorne introduced herself and Katy. “Hello, Mr. Cathcart. Would it be possible to have a quick chat with you in private?”
“It’s Maurice. Please, come this way. My office is down the hall.”
They followed him through the immaculately clean building to an equally clean and well-organised office at the rear of the building.
“Now, what can I do for you nice people?”
Lorne and Katy sat down opposite him. “I’m sure you’re aware of Emma Lansbury’s disappearance. We’re the investigating officers on the case.”
He shook his head, and his smile disappeared. “Absolutely dreadful situation. We’re all keeping Emma in our prayers. How can I help?”
“We’re doing our utmost to return her to her concerned family, but up until now, the investigation has been torturously slow. You’re our last hope.”
“Sorry to hear that. Of course, anything my staff and I can do to help. You only have to ask.”
“Can you tell us what role Emma has around here?” Lorne asked.
“She’s one of our volunteers. Emma mainly helps out at meal times, serving up the dinners two, three, maybe four times a week. She’s a pleasant girl, very inoffensive and cares deeply about the people who visit and stay with us.”
“Has she ever fallen out with anyone, either on the staff or with one of the visitors perhaps?”
He shook his head as he thought. “I don’t believe so. I would have remembered if she had. We don’t put up with any unpleasantness here, Inspector, I can tell you. Most of our clients are regulars. They treat us like their family and vice versa.”
“I see. Surely there must be the odd occasion when a scuffle breaks out between the members?”
“They know the rules. We have a one-strike policy. If they step out of line once, they’re told to move on. Everyone understands that policy and adheres to it, thankfully. I run a tight, extremely happy ship. These people have very little in this world as it is and tend to value our service, whether they’re residents—we have room for twenty-five here—or if they just want to pop in and share a meal with us. Believe it or not, some of these people have grown accustomed to living on the street and refuse to leave the communities they live in—‘cardboard cities,’ if you will. Only when the weather is exceptionally cold do they relent and beg for shelter. We’re happy to accommodate the needier amongst them, but even we have a limit on how many we can accept at one time.”
“Would a rota system be fairer perhaps?” Lorne asked, interested in the workings of the centre. “I take in rescue dogs. Most of those were found wandering the streets of London.”
“Ah, so you’ll appreciate our dilemma in that case. It really wouldn’t be right turfing out people who have got used to having a warm bed and throwing them back on the street again. We believe we run a fair system, and I have to say our members tend to agree with me on that.”
“I understand. Perhaps it would be possible for us to speak to the rest of the staff while we’re here, just to ensure we cover all the bases,” Lorne said with a smile.
Maurice shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We only have a few members of staff on site during the day. Most of our volunteers arrive in the evening when the food is distributed. They’re truly valuable to us, as is Emma. You don’t have any idea what has happened to her?”
“Actually, we do. We believe she was abducted and the abductor drove off in her car. We’ve asked the public for help through the media. However, the information has been very slow to come in. We’re up against time, as you can imagine, and eager to get on with our investigation. So if we could speak with your staff now, that would be a tremendous help.”
“I can arrange that straight away. If you’ll follow me, ladies.”
The three of them left the room and walked into a large hall full of tables and chairs and a long serving table at the top of the room. Behind the table was a small but adequate kitchen, where three members of staff—one male and two females, all in their early twenties—were working. Maurice introduced his team. “These are Amelia, Joanne and Nigel. They’re regular volunteers here and are invaluable to us. These are DI Walker and DS Foster. They’re here to ask a few questions regarding Emma’s disappearance.”
Lorne smiled at the three youths. “Actually, it’s Warner, but that isn’t a problem. Do any of you know Emma well?”
The three youths all stared back at her and shook their heads.
“Not really,” Amelia said. “When we’re here, we usually get on with the tasks in hand. There is a lot for us to do before the hordes descend for their food.”
“I see. You must have had time for a general chit-chat now and again, perhaps on a coffee break, or don’t you get time to have breaks?”
“We do get a break now and again, but we take them separately. That way, the work in the kitchen never grinds to a halt. It’s important that we meet the meal times set for the punters. Otherwise, there would be uproar,” explained Nigel.
“I appreciate that. Perhaps you, working on the front line as it were, would be more likely to know if Emma has had any problems with any of the punters.”
The three youngsters exchanged glances, and Lorne picked up on something.
“No matter how insignificant you might think something is, it would be better if you told us what you know.”
Amelia sighed. “It wasn’t a problem as such, but one of the homeless men took a liking to Emma. That’s quite rare around here. I know we all have our favourites, but this guy homed in on Emma.”
“That’s right,” Nigel confirmed. “Frank used to watch her like a hawk while she was here.”
“Frank? Any idea of his surname?” Lorne asked hopefully.
“No, I can’t remember. He’s been coming here for a couple of months, to my knowledge,” Nigel said.
“He ‘watched her like a hawk’, as in he made a nuisance of himself?”
Amelia shook her head. “I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”
Nigel clicked his fingers as he remembered something. “I believe Emma was helping him to find accommodation and a job. Now and again, someone comes through here who is eager to turn their lives around, and they reach out to us for help. It doesn’t happen that often, but when it does, we try to help out where we can. Some people get used to living on the street, while others deplore it. Frank fitted into the latter category.”
Lorne looked at Katy, who glanced up from the notes she was taking. She turned to Maurice and asked, “Do you keep a record of everyone you offer help to, Mr. Cathcart?”
“We keep loose records. Obviously, when the people are homeless, we can’t take down their address. The only things we note down are their names. I have to offer a word of warning here. We have no way of knowing if the names they give us are the ones they were born with. Homeless people can be very cagey at times for whatever reason. There’s not a thing we can do about that, I’m afraid.”
“Would you mind looking through your system for us anyway?” Katy requested.
“I’ll go and do that now.” Maurice marched the length of the room and through the door at the end.
In his absence, Lorne wondered if the three youngsters might divulge something they were eager to keep quiet about had their boss remained. “Is there anything else you can tell us about this Frank?” she asked.
The three youngsters shook their heads. Lorne noticed that Amelia had gathered a section of her lip into her mouth and was nibbling on it. “Amelia, anything? It doesn’t matter how silly it might sound. Any clues we stumble across can only help our case. Emma could be in a lot of trouble.”
“I did notice him hanging around last week after everyone else had gone. I walked out to the car park with Emma, and he was standing by her car, waiting for her.”
Lorne’s interest piqued. “And what was Emma’s reaction to that?”
“Well, I would have been livid if it had happened to me. However, Emma took it all in
her stride and even offered Frank a lift. He declined it, though. I really didn’t want to leave her out there in the dark in what I regarded as a dangerous situation, although she was very chilled about the whole thing, gave me the impression that it was a regular occurrence.”
“I see. You say she was chilled. Do you think she was putting up a front maybe for your benefit?”
Amelia shook her head. “I don’t think so. Emma is such an easy person to read. What you see is what you get. She says what she means, never skirts around anything. Never lies or tells half-truths. You’re aware that she’s religious, right?”
Lorne nodded. “We are. Okay, that’s a great help, Amelia. Is there anything else that might have happened in the last few weeks regarding either this Frank or one of the other punters?”
“Nothing that I can think of,” Amelia told her, shaking her head.
Joanne and Nigel reluctantly shook their heads also.
Maurice appeared again, carrying a large notebook. “I’ve found three possible Franks for you. A Frank Parker, Frank Mills and finally, a Frank Davis.”
Nigel raised a hand. “We can discount Frank Davis. It’s definitely not him. He hasn’t been around here in months. I believe he moved back up to the Manchester area where he was from.”
“That’s excellent. Can one of you recall what the other men look like?”
“I have a hunch it’s Frank Parker. Don’t ask me why,” Joanne replied.
“What about you, Nigel? Do you have any thoughts?”
“I’m sorry, I don’t.”
“We’ll look into both names then and see what we can come up with. You’ve all been extremely helpful, and we’re thankful for that. Here’s my card. Should you hear anything from any of the other volunteers, I’d appreciate you giving me a call.” Lorne handed each of them a card. “One final thing, Mr. Cathcart—I don’t suppose you have any form of CCTV cameras on the premises, do you?”
He shook his head and tutted. “Not really. We have a few cameras outside the premises, but I have to tell you they’re fake. Just to keep our clientele on their toes and in line. We’ve never felt the need for having proper cameras installed.”