‘We’re still in the middle of preliminary enquiries, but you were right to call me. Can you take us through what happened this morning? You said you were out shopping?’
‘Yes, that’s right. I could’ve used the smaller supermarket over on the Chatham Road. It’s closer, but I prefer the one in Allington. More choice, and it’s a change of scenery on the bike.’
Gavin nodded, and said nothing. Evershall was staring at a point over his shoulder as he remembered the details of finding the canoe, and he didn’t want to interrupt his train of thought. It was better to let the man recall what had happened in his own time rather than risk missing some vital information.
‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘I cycled back past the castle, thinking I’d have a look at what they were filming – I overheard someone in the shop talking about it. The towpath wasn’t very busy – you don’t see many people along here until lunchtime, when the pub opens down by the lock.’ He frowned. ‘I suppose I was daydreaming, just thinking about what I needed to do on the boat when I got back. I saw a flash of red between the reeds as I approached where you saw the canoe. It seemed so out of place that I stopped to take a closer look. I would’ve reported it to the lock-keeper anyway – can’t have a boat hitting something like that, it’d cause all sorts of damage – but when I saw the toy rabbit, I thought I’d better call you.’
‘Did you recognise the canoe as belonging to anyone along here?’
‘No, never seen it before.’
‘Have you heard of any thefts along this stretch in the past week?’
‘No, and that sort of thing would have had us all on alert. News travels fast along here, especially after what’s happened. Everyone who’s a long-term resident on the river here is keeping an eye out for that little girl. It’s all anyone’s talking about.’
‘All right – thanks, Mr Evershall,’ said Gavin. ‘You know where to find me if you see or hear anything else.’
‘Okay, let’s head back to the station.’ Barnes closed his notebook as Evershall walked back towards the cordon. ‘So much of this is going to come down to luck, isn’t it, Piper?’
‘I know. I hate it. If he hadn’t been out shopping, if he hadn’t taken that particular route home––’
Barnes slowed as they approached the CSI team, who were carefully lifting the canoe from the river, each step of the process being photographed by Patrick as they worked.
Water poured from a large hole in the hull, and Barnes watched as the last remnants of evidence were collected and bagged.
‘Harriet, as soon as you’ve finished processing the toy, can you arrange to have it sent over to me?’
‘No problem.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Why d’you want the rabbit, Ian?’ said Gavin as they made their way back to the car.
‘If Alice lost it when Greg Victor was moving her from here to wherever he’s taken her, she’s probably missing it,’ he said. ‘I want to make sure she gets it back when we find her.’
Twenty-Eight
Kay leaned forward over the steering wheel as she slowed the car, and squinted at the brass numbers fixed to a brick gatepost on the right-hand side of the road.
Satisfied she had the right address, she turned onto the gravel driveway, lowered the car window and reached out to press the call button on the intercom under the numbers. While she waited for an answer, she took in the wrought-iron gates and the Tudor-style detached house beyond.
Dark wooden beams criss-crossed over the front of the building, stark against white render on the top level and red brick on the lower that matched the gateposts beside her. Two chimneys rose into the sky above a tiled roof, and she could see fir trees along the sides of the building that provided privacy from the driveway and any prying eyes from the road.
‘Hello?’
A woman’s voice carried through the intercom, and Kay turned so she could be heard clearly.
‘Detective Inspector Kay Hunter. I’d like a word with Mr Archerton, please.’
‘Do you have an appointment?’
‘It’s about his missing granddaughter. I was hoping I wouldn’t need one under the circumstances.’
A rustling reached her ears, and she gazed back towards the house. She had no doubt she was being observed, and as if to confirm her suspicions, a curtain in one of the front windows fell back into place.
‘Drive through,’ said the woman eventually. ‘Park over to the left. There’s a door on that side of the house you can use.’
The line went dead before Kay could acknowledge the instructions, and then the gates swung inwards.
She accelerated forward as soon as there was enough of a gap to pass through, parked where she’d been told and crossed the gravel to the house.
Pausing for a moment to get her bearings, she estimated the property had at least five bedrooms and two reception rooms. The front garden had been landscaped to within an inch of its life and she wondered how much the maintenance cost.
Kay turned at the sound of the door opening and saw a woman with greying shoulder-length hair beckoning to her.
‘This way.’
Kay wiped her feet on the doormat, and then stepped inside. ‘Thanks. Sorry, you are?’
‘Patricia Wells. I’m Mr Archerton’s carer and housekeeper.’ The woman locked the door, and gestured to Kay to follow her through an archway of dark beams that were similar to those on the exterior of the house. ‘Mind your head. Mr Archerton is in his study this morning.’
Kay followed her into a wide hallway and across a thick carpet to a panelled door that remained resolutely closed. She looked to her right to see the front door bolted shut and a piece of material pinned to the slit window to the left of it.
‘Reporters,’ said Patricia, her lip curling. ‘It’s why I asked you to use the side door.’
‘Have they been causing problems?’
‘Not yet. I heard what happened at Annette’s house, though.’ She raised her hand to the door, then turned to Kay and lowered her voice. ‘Mr Archerton has good days and bad. Today’s a good day, but I would ask that you don’t tire him out. He’s under enough stress at the moment, and it won’t take much to trigger a setback.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
Patricia knocked, and a baritone voice answered.
‘Come in.’
Kay’s first impression of the room was that if she had the money, she’d have a study at home just like it.
Floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined the wall to her right while in front of her a pair of French windows opened out onto a wide lawn, the curtains billowing in a gentle breeze. To her left, a large oak desk had been placed in front of a fireplace, the empty grate stacked with pine cones.
‘Mr Archerton, this is Detective Inspector Kay Hunter,’ said Patricia.
Kay crossed to the desk as Kenneth Archerton hauled himself from a burgundy-coloured leather chair with the aid of walking sticks and appraised her with piercing blue eyes.
Apart from his obvious difficulty with walking, his chin jutted out defiantly as he gathered the sticks in one hand and leaned against the desk, his greying thin hair combed away from a high forehead.
‘Have you found my granddaughter?’
‘We’re pursuing a number of enquiries, Mr Archerton. Can I ask why you didn’t tell my colleagues at the weekend that you were Robert Victor’s father-in-law?’
The man’s brow furrowed for a moment, then his shoulders sagged. ‘Did I not? I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. I answered their questions as quickly as I could so they could get on with finding Alice.’
He gestured to a seat opposite his desk, and waited until Kay sat down before he turned his attention to the carer. ‘Patricia – would you mind fetching some coffee for us?’
‘Of course.’
Soft footsteps preceded the door being closed behind the woman, and Archerton eased himself back into his chair. ‘Patricia is a godsend. She works part-time as my housekeeper but is a re
gistered carer as well. I take it my daughter told you I have early onset multiple sclerosis?’
‘She mentioned it to one of my colleagues, yes. I understand you work from home most days?’
‘I go in one day a week for the staff meetings and to sign any new contracts. I was full-time until six months ago when my health took a turn for the worse,’ said Archerton. He smiled. ‘I wouldn’t want my staff to think I’m shirking my duties.’
Kay reached into her bag for her notebook and pen. ‘When did you last see Alice?’
Archerton leaned back in his seat as if he’d been struck, his smile fading.
‘Thursday night. Greg picked her up from here the next day to take her on the boat. He turned up early, and I wasn’t up so I missed saying goodbye to her.’
‘Does she often stay here?’
He gestured to the open patio doors. ‘She loves running around on the lawn. It’s safe here. She likes the butterflies – my wife planted all sorts of shrubs and flowers for them when she was alive, and I’ve tried to keep that tradition. Of course, I have someone come in once a week and look after it all now.’
‘When did you speak to Robert the last time?’
‘Monday morning, before he caught his flight. I wanted to provide him with some guidance regarding a potential new client.’
‘Did he seem worried about anything?’
‘Not at all. Business as usual.’ Archerton tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair. ‘We were planning to have a barbecue at the weekend. Sunday, in fact. I wanted to have my family around me.’ He broke off. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just––’
‘I understand, Mr Archerton,’ said Kay, ‘and I’m sorry if my questions seem intrusive. I’m simply trying to understand why this has happened.’
Nodding, he gestured her to go on.
She waited as the door opened, and Patricia appeared carrying a tray.
The housekeeper set out a coffee pot, cups, milk and sugar before retreating once more, and Kay poured out coffee for them both.
‘Thank you, detective,’ said Archerton as she passed him the milk. ‘Now, what else did you want to ask me?’
‘What’s your relationship with Greg Victor like?’
His mouth twisted. ‘We don’t have a relationship,’ he said. ‘Obviously he drops by here from time to time if he’s with the others, but I don’t socialise with him. Not my sort of person really.’
‘Did he ever approach you for work?’
‘No. And Robert never mentioned he was after a job.’
‘Annette said that he’d been living with them for four months now, and that she only expected him to stay for a couple of weeks.’
‘Yes, and she was none too pleased about it, either. Annette likes her privacy, same as me. I can imagine things were a little strained.’
‘Did Robert seem worried about anything before he went away?’
Archerton sipped his coffee, then shook his head. ‘I don’t think so. If he was, he didn’t say anything to me. Do you think he and Greg had a falling out or something?’
‘It’s not for me to say, Mr Archerton. Have you received any ransom demands?’
He blinked. ‘No. No, I haven’t.’
‘And do you have any idea why Greg might have taken Alice?’
‘No.’ Archerton placed his cup into the saucer with a clatter. ‘But if I find out he’s harmed Alice in any way, Detective Hunter, I will make him pay.’
Twenty-Nine
‘How the hell did no-one see him?’
Barnes glared at his computer screen. In his left hand, he held a printout containing a list of mooring points along the River Medway that he waved in the air.
Kay lifted her chin so she could see across the top of her screen to where he sat. ‘I take it you’ve had no luck?’
‘Nothing. Zip. Nada.’ He threw the paperwork to one side, his lip curling in disgust. ‘There’s no way Greg would’ve been able to paddle that canoe all the way through Maidstone without being seen. Friday night? You know what it’s like down by the river this time of year.’
‘Crowded,’ said Parker as he doled out copies of the latest briefing agenda. ‘I know – I was on patrol.’
‘Down by the river?’
‘Yes. Didn’t see a man and a kid go by in a canoe, though. There were the usual cruisers and narrowboats jostling for space before the sun went down, but I don’t recall seeing anyone that could have been Greg Victor and Alice.’
‘What about closer to midnight? He might have been able to paddle past without being noticed.’
Parker shook his head. ‘It was still busy along there with pedestrian traffic. We extended our patrol along past the Archbishop’s Palace and then over the bridge to the leisure centre a few times due to some rowdy groups larking about. I’m pretty certain a canoe going past would’ve stayed in people’s minds, simply because it would’ve been dangerous at that time of night. It’s why they insist on boats being moored by sundown, isn’t it?’
Kay pulled her keyboard closer, and typed into a search engine. ‘Were there any special events on?’
‘No,’ said Parker. ‘It was just the usual weekend crowds. People making the most of the last of the long evenings, I guess. We had a bit of trouble at one of the pubs near Fairmeadow, but that was about it. All things considered, it was a quiet shift.’
‘So much for that idea, then,’ said Kay, and shoved her keyboard away again as Sharp appeared at the door. ‘Get yourselves over to the end of the room and we’ll kick off the briefing. I want updates from all of you, so make sure you’re prepared.’
She collated her notes and walked across to the whiteboard.
Sharp joined her as she was reviewing the major tasks that had been listed, and loosened his tie. ‘We’re not getting much ticked off that list, are we? How’s morale?’
‘Everyone’s getting frustrated,’ she said, and turned to face the room as the team began to congregate around them. ‘They’re still one hundred per cent focused though – and completely committed to finding Alice.’
‘I knew they would be. All right, I’ll take a seat and let you run with this. Drop by my office before you head home – I’ll let you have an update about staffing levels for the next week.’
‘Thanks.’
Kay waited a moment while the last of the group settled into seats or leaned against a wall close by, made sure that the night shift team had all arrived and were given a copy of the agenda, and then began. After running through the conversation with Barnes and Parker, she jabbed her finger at the map of the river, indicating the town centre.
‘Before we move on to other business, does anyone have any thoughts about this?’
Gavin raised his hand. ‘Guv, since we got back I’ve been going through the statements we got from residents along the river between East Farleigh and Tovil, as well as reviewing the call logs from Friday night. We’ve had no reports of a canoe being stolen amongst those people. I was thinking, though – given how busy we know that part of the towpath to be on a Friday night, Greg could have carried Alice along there, and no-one would’ve batted an eyelid. It’s not like he was a complete stranger who kidnapped her – she knew him.’
‘Nothing turned up on CCTV,’ said Debbie, ‘so perhaps he left the towpath before getting to the Archbishop’s Palace and cut around the back roads until he could reach the river again.’
‘Exactly,’ said Gavin. ‘And then he could’ve seen the canoe moored up somewhere and stolen it. By then, both he and Alice would’ve been tiring. If she’d had a tantrum or something due to being exhausted, it would’ve caught people’s attention.’
Kay nodded when Gavin finished speaking. ‘I think you’re onto something there. I want you to coordinate with uniform to extend their enquiries to properties between Maidstone and Allington, and if they find out someone’s on holiday, do all they can to trace them and ask if they have a Canadian canoe like the one found.’
‘Will do, guv.’
; ‘In the meantime,’ said Kay, ‘where the bloody hell is that itinerary of Robert’s we’re waiting for? I thought Melissa Lampton was supposed to be emailing that over last night?’
‘I left a message for her before I left this morning and asked that she call the incident room when she got in,’ said Carys. ‘Hasn’t she sent it yet?’
‘We haven’t heard back from her,’ said Debbie, looking up from her computer. ‘No-one’s recorded a conversation with her in HOLMES2 today.’
‘Bollocks,’ said Barnes. He crossed the room to his desk and snatched up his mobile phone and car keys. ‘I’ll go over there and get it myself.’
Thirty
Kay smoothed down her hair as she hurried past the hatchback parked haphazardly on her driveway.
Despite her father’s insistence that his doctor had told him he was fine to drive, Kay’s mother had taken it upon herself to chauffeur him from place to place.
A smile feathered across Kay’s lips as she imagined the conversations between them as her father was ferried around.
Adam’s four-by-four was parked in front of the garage, and the familiar taint of barbecue smoke wafted from the back garden as she turned the key in the lock.
‘I’m home!’
‘We’re through here.’ Her mother’s voice floated from the kitchen.
‘All right – let me get changed first.’
She took the stairs two at a time, tossed her work clothes into the washing basket and pulled on a favourite pair of jeans and a thin long-sleeved black T-shirt before tying her hair back in a ponytail.
Walking into the small en suite, she checked her appearance in the mirror.
Thankfully, she didn’t look too tired.
She and her mother had tentatively started to mend their bridges earlier in the year, with her mother realising that no amount of snide remarks or derisory comments were going to make Kay quit her role with Kent Police, and admitting her anger had been a way to deal with a fear that she might lose Kay forever.
Kay still wasn’t sure her mother had forgiven her for keeping her miscarriage a secret for so long, but they were making slow progress, and today was the third time they’d all congregated for a family meal over the course of the summer.
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