by James Raven
He ended the call and sat there for a couple of minutes while he got his mind in gear. It was time to stop thinking about the past and focus on the present.
Or more specifically, on the case of a missing couple that was giving him increasing cause for concern.
3
Bob and Rosemary Hamilton had disappeared five days ago and from the start, it hadn’t appeared to be a run-of-the-mill missing persons case, which was why Temple and his team had become involved.
The couple were in their late twenties and lived in the centre of Southampton. They’d been married for five years and had a two-year-old son named Peter.
On Saturday they’d left the boy in the care of Mr Hamilton’s mother, and had set off on a short journey along the south coast to the market town of Christchurch. Their destination had been a four star hotel where they’d been due to attend a dinner-dance with two of their closest friends. They’d booked a room at the hotel for the night and weren’t planning to return home until the following afternoon.
But they didn’t arrive at the hotel, and nobody had heard from them since they left home.
According to family and friends, they were a happily married couple who doted on their son. They had no financial worries and Mr Hamilton had a well-paid job as an executive with a public relations company. There was no reason to believe that they had chosen to run off somewhere by themselves.
They both had mobile phones, but these had been switched off so there was no way to contact them. Their car had been picked up on traffic cameras as they drove out of the city at about eleven on Saturday morning. The couple had decided to take the scenic route to Christchurch through the New Forest. This had become evident when they were spotted on a traffic camera entering the main forest town of Lyndhurst.
But there were no more sightings after that. With so few traffic cameras in and around the forest that in itself wasn’t really surprising.
Temple had spent much of yesterday looking into the case after being alerted by the uniform division. He and DC Marsh had interviewed Mr Hamilton’s mother, who was extremely distraught and absolutely convinced that her son and daughter-in-law had not done a runner. Her grandson had sat on her lap the whole time and the boy was clearly well-nourished and content. Temple couldn’t believe his parents would simply abandon him.
It was pretty rare for married couples to disappear and leave their child or children behind. When it did happen there was almost always a blatantly obvious reason for it. But that didn’t seem to be the case with Bob and Rosemary Hamilton, so alarm bells were understandably ringing.
After visiting Mr Hamilton’s mother, Temple and DC Marsh had gone on to the man’s office. His work colleagues had described him as an upbeat guy who enjoyed his job and adored his family. He’d told them on Friday that he was looking forward to their night out in Christchurch with friends they hadn’t seen in some time.
Another detective had interviewed the two friends who lived on the other side of Christchurch, and they weren’t able to shed any light on what might have happened to Bob and Rosemary.
With the discovery of their car in Southampton, the mystery deepened. Temple wondered if the couple had driven back into the city instead of going to the hotel. And if so, why had they left the vehicle in Paget Street and where were they now?
As Temple drove across town, a number of wretched scenarios unfolded in his mind and the questions continued to mount.
Was there more to Bob and Rosemary Hamilton than he’d been led to believe? Had they been forced to flee because they’d done something unlawful? Were they on some drugs or drinks binge and holed up in a flat close to where they’d abandoned the car? Or had something seriously bad happened to them?
The circumstances surrounding their disappearance were indeed unusual, and it was beginning to make Temple feel distinctly uneasy.
4
There were two patrol cars in Paget Street along with a Scientific Services Department van.
A couple of white-suited forensic technicians were already examining the bright red Honda Civic belonging to the Hamiltons.
The street was a stone’s throw from Southampton Football Club’s ultra-modern stadium. It contained a mixture of flats and small industrial units. The Honda was parked at the roadside in front of a small, grey apartment block.
Temple spotted Detective Sergeant Vaughan standing next to it on the pavement. He was smoking a cigarette while talking to one of the uniformed officers.
Temple brought the Mazda to a stop behind the forensic van. Killed the engine and climbed out. The street was close to the Itchen River that flows inland from the Solent, so the air was damp and salty. Gulls wheeled above them, riding the wind.
Vaughan gave a wave and blew smoke in a long plume towards the sky as Temple approached him.
‘Marsh called me,’ Temple said. ‘I thought I’d better take a look.’
DS Vaughan was forty and painfully thin, with hollow cheeks and dark pouches beneath his eyes. He wore black-rimmed glasses that seemed too big for his head and his shoulder-length hair always looked a mess. He used to take pride in his appearance and weighed in at a healthy twelve and a half stone. But that was before his wife left him for another man. Since then, he’d let himself go and sometimes it looked to Temple as though the man was fading away before their very eyes.
‘The call came in early this morning from a Mr Albert Teale who lives in the block over there,’ Vaughan said. ‘He says the car has been parked here since Saturday, but he didn’t think anything of it until we put out a description on the news.’
‘Did he see who left it?’
‘Negative. He went out about nine on Saturday evening and the car wasn’t here then. But he noticed it when he came home around midnight.’
‘Is he sure about that?’
‘He’s positive. He reckons it was the only car parked at the kerb.’ Vaughan pointed to the block of flats. ‘That’s his place on the second floor. And the entrance to the block is just below it. He walked past the car to go inside.’
‘What about his neighbours? Did anyone else see anything?’
‘Not sure. I’ve called for help so we can go door to door, but I’m guessing most people will be at work by now.’
Temple made a thoughtful noise in his throat and looked up and down the street.
‘Any CCTV cameras around here?’ he asked.
Vaughan shook his head and tossed the butt of a cigarette into the road with practiced nonchalance. ‘Not in this street. I’ve asked Fiona to check out cameras on approach roads and see what footage we can collect from Saturday night.’
‘The couple might have parked here for a reason,’ Temple said. ‘It could be they’re in one of the flats.’
‘I’ve thought of that, boss, but my gut tells me it’s unlikely. They only live a few minutes away by car. So why would they shack up in this part of town?’
Temple turned his attention to the Honda. A technician was sifting through the boot while another examined the interior.
‘What have they found so far?’
Vaughan set his gaze on the car. ‘There are two overnight cases in the back. It looks as though everything they packed for their hotel stay is still inside. No sign of their mobile phones, though.’
‘What about keys?’
‘Nope. The doors were locked so we had to break in.’
Temple stepped forwards, peered into the car.
‘Any personal effects?’ he said. ‘Handbag or wallet?’
‘Nothing like that,’ Vaughan said. ‘There are some CDs in the glove compartment along with a packet of sweets. But that’s about it.’
Temple was disappointed. He straightened up, blew out his cheeks.
‘The techies will give it a thorough going-over when they get it back to the compound,’ Vaughan said. ‘I’ve asked them to check for anything suspicious, including specs of blood, but on the face of it the car looks as clean as a whistle.’
Temple chewed o
n the inside of his cheek as he walked around the Honda and looked in the boot. It contained two small flight cases. One was open and the forensics technician was carefully poking around inside. Temple spotted some black lace underwear.
‘Looks like they were planning a fun weekend,’ the technician said. ‘There’s a vibrator and some KY Jelly in the side pocket.’
‘So what could have made them turn around and come back into the city?’ Temple said.
The technician shrugged. ‘Maybe they had an argument that got out of hand.’
He’d considered that, of course. Something could have sparked a bust-up as they drove through the forest. Perhaps things had got so nasty between them that they’d decided it wasn’t worth going to the hotel. It was certainly a possibility since even the most loving couples often take things to extremes when the red mist comes down.
Had Bob Hamilton harmed his wife and fled in a panic? From what Temple had learned about the man he found it hard to believe, but then after so long on the force nothing really surprised him anymore.
His mind flashed on an image of their little son on his grandmother’s lap and he hoped to God that there was a far more innocent explanation for their disappearance. But for the life of him he couldn’t think what it might be.
‘I’d better get to the office,’ he said to Vaughan. ‘You coordinate things here and make sure every flat and industrial unit in the street is checked out.’
It took Temple ten minutes to reach Southampton’s central police station opposite the city’s bustling port. As he approached the eight-storey building, his mobile buzzed and the hands-free console displayed his home number.
‘Aren’t you supposed to be seeing the doctor?’ he said.
‘I just got back,’ Angel replied.
‘Is everything OK?’
‘It’s fine and the good news is I’m still on course to return to work in a couple of weeks.’
‘That’s great. I’ll tell the team. They’ll be ecstatic.’
Angel was desperate to get back to her job as a DI on the MIT. She’d already spent almost two months recuperating from injuries sustained when her car was involved in a motorway pile-up. She’d suffered fractured ribs, a punctured lung and concussion. The crash had been one of several caused by a madman who fired on rush-hour traffic with a sniper rifle. Angel had been driving on the motorway when he struck and was among the dozens of drivers and passengers who were badly hurt. But luckily she was not one of those killed during the murderous rampage that paralysed the country’s motorway network for several days.
‘Are you still at the cemetery, Jeff?’ she asked.
‘No. I’m on my way to the office. I had to make a detour.’
‘Well, something has happened and that’s why I’m calling. I thought you ought to know about it.’
‘That sounds ominous.’
She left it a beat and he heard her draw a breath. ‘It’s about your friend, Grant Mason.’
‘He’s not a friend exactly,’ Temple said. ‘I’ve only met him a couple of times. What about him?’
‘I’m afraid he’s dead.’
Temple was genuinely shocked. ‘What happened to him?’
‘He was taken ill yesterday evening at a book signing in town. He had a heart attack apparently and died later in hospital.’
‘Bloody hell.’
Temple thought back to the last time he’d seen Mason. It had been at a drinks party in a city centre pub three months ago. The party had been held to celebrate the fiftieth birthday of the author’s personal assistant, Hilary Dyer. Temple had known Hilary for years because she’d been Erin’s best friend. She’d introduced him to Mason shortly after she started working for the guy.
Temple had found Mason to be pleasant enough, although he’d always come across as uptight and painfully shy. Plus, he’d been one of those annoying people who avoided making eye contact during a conversation.
‘I’d better call Hilary,’ Temple said. ‘I’m sure she’ll be taking it hard.’
‘Did Mr Mason have a wife?’ Angel asked and Temple realized that she’d never met him.
‘No, he was single. No family as far as I know.’
‘They said on the radio that he was in his forties.’
‘That’s right. About my age, I think.’
‘Then let it be a lesson to you, Detective. You need to do more to look after yourself.’
He smiled at that because he was losing the battle against middle-age spread. She’d been nagging him to drink less and exercise more. And he’d been promising her that he would. But it was easier said than done. Drinking in the evenings and at weekends helped him to wind down, and there was never enough time in the day for walking or jogging.
‘I hear what you say,’ he said. ‘In fact I was planning to spend Saturday morning at the gym.’
‘Is that the same gym you joined months ago and have yet to visit?’
He laughed. ‘That’s not fair. I’ve been busy looking after you and keeping the streets safe.’
‘I don’t need looking after anymore and even Robocop can find time to work up a sweat.’
‘OK, point taken. I’ll sort it.’
‘Make sure you do. And try to get home early tonight. I thought I’d prepare something special for dinner.’
‘Then I’ll do my best,’ he promised.
They said their goodbyes and Temple drove into the police station car park. On the way upstairs he thumbed through the contacts on his phone and called Hilary. But it went to voicemail, so he left a message telling her he’d heard the news and was really sorry.
‘If you want to have a chat, then don’t hesitate to call me,’ he said. ‘In the meantime, my thoughts are with you.’
5
The morning briefing got under way soon after Temple walked into the open-plan office of the Major Investigations Team.
DC Marsh had already prepared the paperwork and she handed him a print-out of the agenda. There were five items to be discussed, including two on-going murder investigations, a serious rape and a village post office robbery that had happened five days ago. But the first item on the agenda was the discovery of the car in Paget Street.
Temple took his usual place at one end of the room between two mounted whiteboards. Photographs of Bob and Rosemary Hamilton were pinned to one of the boards and beneath them, someone had scribbled details about the couple in bold, black letters.
They were both aged twenty-eight and were saving to buy their own home. In the meantime they were renting a two-bedroom flat in the Northam area of Southampton. Neither had a criminal record and their joint bank account contained over £4,000. In short, they seemed a perfectly ordinary young couple.
‘OK, let’s get started,’ Temple said, after removing his jacket. ‘I want this to be a short session so we can crack on with things.’
There were eight detectives in the room, plus a couple of uniforms. They were all seated facing him except DC Marsh, who was standing to his right with her spiral-bound notebook out. She was wearing a self-imposed uniform of black trousers and white blouse. Her flaming red hair was tied back in a bun and as always, it looked as though she was impatient to get on with the business of the day.
Marsh was without question one of his best officers. Not only was she young, keen and sitting her sergeant exams, she was also erudite and articulate, which was more than could be said for some members of the team.
It was Marsh who started the ball rolling in her broad south London accent. She had news of a possible sighting.
‘We’ve had a call from the landlady of a pub just outside Lyndhurst,’ she said. ‘She saw the photos on the news and she’s convinced that Bob and Rosemary Hamilton stopped there for a drink and light lunch on Saturday.’
‘Where exactly is the pub?’ Temple asked.
Marsh consulted her notes. ‘Just west of the town on one of the main roads to Christchurch. It’s called the King’s Tavern.’
‘I know it,’ Temp
le said. ‘It’s a popular place set back from the road. So did she talk to them?’
‘Apparently so, but she was in her car when she phoned here so she couldn’t go into detail. I’ve arranged to go and see her straight after this meeting.’
‘I’ll go with you,’ Temple said. ‘It sounds like it could be a lead.’
He then went on to brief the team about the abandoned car in Paget Street.
‘It’s a real puzzler,’ he said. ‘We know they got at least halfway to Christchurch, but we don’t know why they came back into town instead of driving to the hotel. Perhaps they had a row or maybe they’re on some kind of bender. The problem is we’re talking about a respectable young couple with a small child. Not a pair of degenerates who don’t care about the consequences of their actions. That’s why I’m more than a little concerned about their disappearance.’
DC Marsh said she’d contacted the traffic division and they were going to trawl through camera footage from Saturday evening in the hope of spotting the Honda. The city centre location meant there would be quite a few cameras on roads in the area.
‘Have we checked cameras at the end of the A35 and on roads in and out of Christchurch?’
Marsh nodded. ‘We have and there was no sign of their car so it’s probably safe to assume they didn’t even get to the town.’
Marsh also confirmed that none of the credit and debit cards belonging to the couple had been used since they vanished and their mobile phones had not been switched on.
‘I spoke to Mr Hamilton’s mother a few minutes ago,’ another officer said. ‘She knows of no reason why her son and daughter-in-law would park on or near Paget Street. She doesn’t think they know anyone there.’
‘How did she take the news of the car?’ Temple asked.
‘It’s made her even more upset and confused. She broke down on the phone so I’ve asked uniform to send someone round to make sure she and the kid are OK.’
Temple empathized with the woman. Over the years he’d seen the awful impact a person’s disappearance can have on their family and friends. He could imagine the pain he’d have to endure if his own daughter became a missing person. Not knowing what might be happening to her would be sheer torture and no doubt his mind would conjure up all manner of gruesome images.