Winter nodded. ‘He’s in a stew right now. I reckon if we go straight in, we can get him before he has a chance to get his story straight. He really wasn’t expecting this at all.’
‘Are you happy with this?’ Hardcastle asked Ruth. She nodded her assent. ‘Okay, go. I’ll speak to Webb in the viewing room, then I can call you out of the interview room at an opportune moment.’
‘Okay, sir.’ She turned to Rob Winter. ‘Come on, then, I’m looking forward to this. Let’s get stuck in.’
***
When Ruth strode into the interview room with Winter at her shoulder, she was all business.
‘Mr Surtees.’ She put her notes down on the table as Surtees made to stand up and shake hands. ‘Please remain seated, sir.’ Ruth and Rob Winter took the chairs opposite Surtees. McAllister stood behind and to the right. Surtees looked over his shoulder at him; he seemed to shrink back into his seat at the man’s impassive stare.
Winter unwrapped two cassette tapes and placed them in the machine. Ruth turned it on, then ran through the necessary information. Once she had covered the preamble, she listed the names of the people in the room. ‘Present are DCI Ruth Crinson, DI Rob Winter and PC Nicholas McAllister. Also John Surtees of twenty-two Amble Avenue, Sunderland. Mr Surtees?’
‘Yes?’
‘Do you understand that you have been arrested on suspicion of the abduction of Annabelle Snowdon and the attempted abduction of Christina Snowdon?’
‘Yes, but I—’
‘You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’
‘You said that earlier. But I—’
‘Mr Surtees, do you recall the events surrounding the abduction of Annie Snowdon and the attempted abduction of Tina Snowdon nine years ago?’
‘Well, I remember seeing it on the news and I know what happened to George Cotter.’
‘Earlier today, I showed Tina Snowdon your picture and she positively identified you as the driver of the car involved in the events of that night.’
‘George Cotter—’
‘Mr Cotter is known to you, isn’t he?’
‘I’ve known him for twenty years or more.’
‘George Cotter denied any knowledge of the abduction, then out of the blue, he confessed.’
‘I never believed that he had anything to do with it.’
‘No, his confession was a lie.’
‘The stress you people put him under—’
‘George Cotter lied to protect you. Isn’t that right, Mr Surtees?
‘What? No!’
‘Yes. You are the pastor of his church. He couldn’t bear the thought that you would go to prison and so he confessed to protect you. Then, after a decent interval, he recanted his confession and had his conviction overturned. Did the two of you come up with that scheme together?’
‘No!’
‘You visited George Cotter regularly while he was in prison.’
‘Yes, he’s a friend, one of the faithful.’
‘And your saviour.’
‘My saviour?’
‘Because he took the blame for you. You, Mr Surtees, took George Cotter’s car from his driveway without his knowledge. You used it to abduct Annie Snowdon, then, after you returned it, you arranged for the young people of the church to clean it thoroughly to remove any evidence it might have held.’
‘No.’
‘But they didn’t know that the T-shirt Tina left behind was incriminating, so they left it in the car.’
‘This is preposterous.’
‘No, Mr Surtees, it is not. What it is, until I have conclusive proof, is a hypothesis. And it goes further.’
Surtees had his head in his hands.
‘DI Karen Fitzgerald knew you were guilty, but lacked the proof to charge you with anything. I believe she went looking for that proof on her own and you encountered her. What did you do then, Mr Surtees?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘Are you familiar with the Ten Commandments?’
‘The Ten …? What? Yes, of course.’
‘And would you say that you attempt to abide by them?’
‘I don’t understand—’
‘But you clearly have no use for the one that states that you should not bear false witness against your neighbour. You should not tell lies, Mr Surtees. God says so. So why are you lying to me now?’
‘I do God’s work. God’s spirit is in absolutely everything I do.’
‘And what did God’s spirit tell you to do with Karen Fitzgerald?’
Surtees gawped at Ruth. She said nothing, allowed the silence to put pressure on him. ‘I do God’s work,’ he repeated eventually, then sat back in his seat.
‘Did your God tell you to murder Karen Fitzgerald?’ Ruth put a photograph of Karen on the table between them, facing Surtees. ‘Or to falsely imprison her? What about Annie Snowdon?’ Ruth put Annie’s photograph alongside Karen’s. ‘This is what she looked like when she was taken. Do you remember? And this,’ she put another image alongside Annie’s photograph, ‘is an artist’s impression of how she might look now, if she’s still alive. What was God’s will where she is concerned? Is she still alive, Mr Surtees?’ She tapped the artist’s impression. ‘Is this what she looks like?’ Ruth slid more pictures over the table. ‘This is Ben Addams. Amy Thompson. Timothy Barker. Rosemary Cairns. And Billy Scoggins. Do you know these children, Mr Surtees?’
‘This is too much. I don’t know what you want from me.’
‘The truth, Mr Surtees. I want the truth.’
Ruth sat back and let him think about that for a minute, gave him time to look at the faces of the missing people, and Hardcastle took the opportunity to interrupt. She looked at her watch. ‘DCI Ruth Crinson leaving the room at thirteen fifty-five.’ She stood and walked out, turned her back on Surtees without giving him a second glance.
‘Sir,’ she said when she stood outside in the corridor and the door was closed behind her.
‘Webb says they got a positive identification of the God-botherers from the neighbour, Mrs West. Unfortunately no one could say for sure whether they were the same lads they saw cleaning Karen’s car.’ He ran his hand over his head. ‘Although in fairness, I doubt they were. They’ll have had some other kids doing that and I shouldn’t think they’ll take the risk of putting them back in that neighbourhood anytime soon.’
‘So all we really have is confirmation that they were where they said they were?’
‘That and Webb’s observation that Barbara Neville was visibly nervous. She could be a weak link in the chain. Webb and Evans are questioning her in interview room two now.’ He nodded. ‘You’re doing a good job in there, Ruth. Pressing all the right buttons.’
‘I’m not getting anything out of him, though.’
‘Not yet. Wait until he’s spent a night in the cells.’
‘We thought that with Cotter. He just prayed a lot.’
Hardcastle shook his head, his hand rasping over his cheeks. ‘Surtees is a different kettle of fish. Plus we have a positive identification, we know the young people of the church destroyed evidence previously and we can put the church people in Karen’s street around the time her car was returned and her stuff taken. That’s pretty compelling.’
‘We still don’t know where she is, though. My biggest fear is that by arresting him, we set events in motion.’
‘I share your concern, but let’s face it, if they’ve kept Annie Snowdon alive for all these years, they’re unlikely to start killing people now. I think the whole church, or certainly a significant proportion, are in on this, whatever “this” is, and that it has been going on for a very long time.’
‘He insists he’s doing God’s work.’
‘Yeah, well, he’s not the first bad bastard to do that. Wrap this up for now and you and Winter come to my office. Mills, Gray and Bes
ter are questioning the youngsters, they might have something useful we can use as a lever when we get him back in there later.’
Ruth nodded and headed back into the interview room. Surtees had taken his jacket off, damp patches visible at his armpits. No one was speaking. McAllister stood impassive and threatening behind Surtees. Winter sat opposite at the table, staring at him, keeping the pressure on. ‘DCI Ruth Crinson re-enters the room at fourteen oh-seven,’ she said, as she sat down and joined Winter in the staring game.
‘So, Mr Surtees, have you anything you would like to share with us?’ she asked him.
‘I really don’t know what you want from me. I do God’s work—’
‘Well, then, maybe you can pray for these people.’ She indicated the photographs on the table in front of him.
‘I want my solicitor.’
Ruth looked at Winter as she spoke for the benefit of the tape. ‘Interview suspended at fourteen ten. PC McAllister, please would you take care of Mr Surtees?’
Surtees looked at Ruth. ‘When can I go home?’
‘I don’t know, Mr Surtees. Possibly never.’ She turned on her heel and left, Winter following behind.
‘Nice work,’ he said when they got out of earshot.
‘He’s not talking.’
‘Not yet. He will, though. You should have seen him when you were out talking to Hardcastle.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Kept trying not to look at the pictures, but he couldn’t help it. He especially seemed to be looking at Annie Snowdon.’
‘Probably comparing the artist’s impression to the face he sees every day. Sick fuck. What do you think he does with them? Is it sexual? Does he raise church funds by sending them out cleaning? What the hell’s going on, Rob?’
‘I don’t know, but we’ll find out.’
‘We’ve already searched everywhere. Christ.’ Ruth stopped dead. ‘I’m worried sick about Karen.’
Rob turned to face her, put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Yeah, me too. But we’re going to find her, Ruth. We’re going to find all of them. And we’re going to put Surtees, Cotter and any other bugger who’s involved away for a very long time.’
‘How, Rob? I don’t know that we have much left unless one of them cracks. And if we go ahead with just a confession, they’ll sit for a few years then pull a repeat of Cotter’s trick. So how will we do it?’
‘Good old-fashioned police work. We know they’re guilty. We build a case. Every little bit of evidence we collect and verify and collate helps us. Every single bit is a piece of the jigsaw and a brick in the wall we’re going to build round them. I’m convinced we’ve got more than we realise. We need to pull it all together and see where we stand, how things look, then. And it might point us in exactly the direction we need to go in next.’ He punched her arm. ‘Come on, mate. This isn’t like you. We’re smarter than they are. We don’t have blind faith. We have processes and procedures and evidence, and we’re going to use that to build a watertight case. Am I right?’
‘Bloody right.’ Ruth ran a hand through her hair. ‘Sorry, Rob. It’s just …’
‘Karen. I know. But we’re doing this for her, her and the missing kids, and we’re going to pull this off.’
***
‘Ruth. Rob. Come on in. Right,’ said Hardcastle, clapping his hands together, ‘the gang’s all here. Mills, Gray, Bester, what did you get from the people you questioned?’
‘Very little, sir,’ Mills told the assembled group. ‘It’s like they’ve been drilled. They’re all very attentive, very polite, but while they admit to have been spreading the word in Karen’s area the other day, they just look blank when they’re asked about Karen or any of the other missing people.’
‘What do they say about the car cleaning?’ Winter asked.
‘That they clean cars for people of the church as a thank you for lifts they get to events or outings. They also get shopping in for the elderly who struggle to do it for themselves, babysit, help the younger kids with Bible study. They’re essentially good kids,’ Gray said.
‘Good kids who help cover up abduction and goodness knows what else,’ Webb observed. ‘I don’t think they’re good so much as brainwashed.’
‘That’s an interesting word,’ Hardcastle said. ‘And I think it’s apt, just as Mills describing them as having been drilled is apt. They remind me of military personnel. They each have their role to play, they know exactly what is expected of them and they act as a unit with a common goal.’
‘I wonder how much they each know?’ mused Ruth. ‘I mean, if they do things on a “need to know” basis, if they keep information compartmentalised to limit the risk of discovery or exposure, they might each have nothing very useful to tell anyway.’
‘Pieces of the jigsaw, bricks in the wall,’ said Winter.
‘Excuse me,’ said Gray. ‘But you’re all talking as though these people are guilty of something. With the exception of Mr Surtees, they haven’t been arrested, and no one has been charged with an offence yet. What happened to “innocent until proven guilty”?’
‘Look, son,’ said Hardcastle, not unkindly. ‘There would be times when I would agree with you, but look at the facts. The Snowdon girls got into Cotter’s car nine years ago and Annie was successfully abducted, after which the car was cleaned to remove any traces of evidence. Tina Snowdon has positively identified Surtees as the driver of the car the girls got into at Heworth Metro station. Clearly, Cotter lied about his guilt to protect Surtees.’
‘He also effectively halted the investigation when he did that,’ said Webb. ‘For six years.’
‘And now we have similar things with Karen Fitzgerald,’ Hardcastle continued. ‘She’s known to be suspicious of them, believed to be investigating them on her own time, and she vanishes. Then her car turns up, clean as a whistle, at a time when the church are known to be working in the area.’
‘But sir, they’re Christians!’
‘You’re letting that fact blind you, Charlie,’ said Hardcastle. If you’re going to be a good copper, you’re going to have to stop taking anything at all at face value. These people smell guilty. Their involvement is too deep to be coincidence. Our job is to gather evidence. The evidence will show us the truth.’
‘And at the moment,’ Winter said, ‘the evidence shows us that on balance of probabilities, we have found the person or people responsible for, at the very least, Annie Snowdon’s abduction. Now we need to gather the evidence to show exactly what happened that night, and what has been going on since then.’
‘And since we also have evidence to suggest that Annie is alive, if we extrapolate from that fact that the other missing children plus Karen are also alive, then we need to find out where those people are being held,’ said Ruth. ‘I personally am hanging on for dear life to the assumption that you don’t pick up clothes and toiletries for someone who is dead or who you intend to kill. Please don’t forget, as well as those kids, one of our own is out there.’
‘What did Barbara Neville have to say?’ Winter asked Webb.
Webb rolled his eyes. ‘She started crying pretty much as soon as I started talking,’ he said.
‘She’s not the first woman to do that,’ said Winter.
‘Very droll. She’s having a cup of tea in the canteen with Wendy Martin while she calms down.’
‘If she’s like that when we question her informally, what the hell is she going to be like if she’s arrested and charged with an actual offence?’ asked Winter.
‘Well, I think that’s part of the issue. I think she knows she will be, and she’s frightened.’
‘So we offer her a lifeline,’ said Hardcastle. ‘Give her the “we can do a deal for people who help us” speech. See if that dislodges anything.’
Webb nodded. ‘I’ll give it a go, sir. To be honest, she might know some stuff that would help, but I doubt she’s any kind of arch criminal. It probably wouldn’t cost us much if we can get her to talk.’
‘And
she’ll salve her guilty conscience. That has to be worth it from her point of view, surely.’ Hardcastle smiled, but there was little humour in it. ‘Meanwhile, I get my DI back. Go on, son, give it a go. Take Evans with you. Let us know how you get on.’
There was a tap at the door and PC Martin popped her head round. ‘Sir,’ she said. ‘We’ve got a problem. One of the youngsters from the church came to the canteen to see Neville. He told her she’s free to leave, because they’re here voluntarily. She didn’t realise. They’re all planning to go now.’
‘Damn and blast! Who the hell told them that?’ Hardcastle looked at the men and women in his office, then his eyes settled on PC Gray.
‘I had to, sir. It’s the law. It’s the truth.’
‘Get out of my sight,’ Hardcastle growled. ‘Okay, let them go,’ he said to Martin. ‘It’s right enough, we can’t make them stay and we’ve got nothing to arrest them for. Not yet, anyway.’
Chapter 17
Later that afternoon, John Surtees was taken to the interview room for a second time. His solicitor had been contacted and accompanied him.
‘I’m not a criminal,’ he exclaimed, as Winter was unwrapping the tapes for the machine. ‘I’ve been photographed and fingerprinted … my tie has been taken from me …’
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ the solicitor cautioned him. ‘I would advise you to only answer the questions you are asked, and only then if I don’t stop you from answering.’
‘But I keep telling you, I’ve done nothing wrong.’
‘Mr Surtees,’ Ruth said. ‘Your solicitor is an expert in these things. Since you have asked for legal representation, I think it would be prudent to listen to him.’ She ran through the preliminaries for the benefit of the tape, then said, ‘The time is eighteen fifteen. Present are DCI Ruth Crinson and DI Rob Winter. Also Richard Drinkwater of Drinkwater and Bruce Solicitors, and John Surtees of twenty-two Amble Avenue, Sunderland.’
Drinkwater nodded as Ruth finished speaking. Ruth addressed Surtees. ‘So, Mr Surtees, please can you tell me how often you borrow a car owned by another member of your church?’
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