by Philip Cox
‘How do you mean? Physically?’
‘Not just physically. What was he like in general?’
Craig took another mouthful of coffee, grimacing again. ‘Physically, not unlike you. Taller than me, about six four. Well built. Not fat, toned I guess would be the right word. Always tanned. He always used to go to the gym two, maybe three times a week, tanning salon regularly too. Dark hair, same as you, but longer. A flat in Wapping. He works for some overseas bank, somewhere in Docklands.’
‘Girlfriends?’
‘Nobody regular, as far as I know. He likes the opposite sex, though, and they find him attractive, very attractive. Every time I see him, there’s a different one on his arm.’
‘But he came out here with male friends?’
‘Oh, yes. He had many girlfriends in inverted commas at home, but like I told you these trips here were to get some real sun, and to get laid. Here, I’ll show you a photo.’
Craig went into his bedroom and brought out a folder. He took out a photograph and gave it to Ben. ‘There, that’s Adam. Last year, in Switzerland.’
Ben looked at the picture. Craig was right: there were some similarities between Ben and Adam. Both had dark hair, though Ben’s was almost cropped. Both were tall, Ben just over six foot. Both Adam and the pretty blonde he had his arm around were dressed for the piste: the background to the picture was a snowy landscape with a hillside full of fir trees.
‘We could take copies of this and show to people,’ Ben said, passing the photo back.
‘Already done that. Remember, I told you my father had plastered this picture all over town.’
‘Yes, I remember. Sorry. What about you?’ Ben asked, taking his plate and coffee cup over to the sink. ‘Is there a girlfriend?’
‘No,’ answered Craig sharply, putting the photo back into the folder. ‘No girlfriend.’ He took the folder back into the bedroom.
‘Sorry I asked,’ Ben muttered, as he put the plates and cups into the dishwasher.
*****
Just after eight thirty they left the apartment, and walked downstairs. Craig was carrying a backpack containing the folder with the photographs of Adam. As they got outside and walked to where they had parked the Fusion the previous night, Ben took in the surroundings. Walking back to the car, they had to take a pathway around the lawn they had walked across the night before, as the grass was being watered. Now and again they had to move to dodge the spray from the sprinkler. Although relatively early, the sun was up and it was very warm, although not too humid. Each building had its own parking lot, in the neighbouring lot a woman was loading cases into the trunk of her car, shouting at her two young children not to play in the road.
Both of them had unconsciously decided it was Craig’s turn to drive; he turned the engine on, selected Drive, and they quietly pulled away.
‘Forgot to bring some CDs,’ Craig said as he fiddled the car radio. It took a while to select a channel: they went through a Christian Outreach station, a news channel, and eventually settled on a station playing tracks from High School Musical.
There was a set of stop lights at the end of the complex’s drive and the junction with the main road. Craig pulled up at the red light, indicating an intended left turn. As they waited, a black Windstar pulled up next to them. Ben peered nonchalantly up at the vehicle: the windows were tinted so he was unable to see the driver. Presently there was a gap in traffic and with a small squeal of brakes the Windstar turned right and was off. The lights turned green and Craig took a left and they headed into town.
They had no problem finding police headquarters. Downtown Davenport consisted of the main three lane road with three cross streets. There was an eclectic collection of small shops, a small Safeway store, a McDonald’s outlet, and a drive thru Wells Fargo bank. Police headquarters was a single storey red brick building on one corner, two black and white police cars parked outside.
Craig found a parking space across the road and they walked across the main street to the building. An icy blast from the air conditioning hit them as they went in and up to the counter.
‘Good morning guys, something you need?’ A red headed police officer about thirty years of age greeted them at the counter.
Craig spoke. ‘Yes, I need to speak to Lieutenant Sanchez, please.’
The officer turned and picked up a telephone. ‘I’ll see if the Lieutenant is available. What is it about?’
‘A missing person. Adam Williams. I am his brother, and Lieutenant Sanchez is leading the investigation.’
‘Ah yes. The missing Brit.’ The officer smiled. ‘No offence. Please take a seat and I’ll see if the Lieutenant can see you.’
Ben and Craig sat down in a waiting area. The officer had a brief conversation on the telephone, and then called out, ‘Ten minutes.’ Craig waved in acknowledgement.
Twenty-five minutes later, they were still waiting. No other members of the public had gone in and out since their arrival. From behind the counter there was a constant drone of hushed conversation with the occasional burst of laughter.
‘For God’s sake, how long’s he going to be?’ Craig exclaimed and went back to the counter. ‘Excuse me,’ he called, knocking on the counter top, ‘Does Lieutenant Sanchez know we are still here?’
‘Craig, calm down.’ Ben walked over and put his hand on Craig’s shoulder. ‘We’re not at home, you know.’
With an angry look on his face, the red headed officer stood up and was just about to walk over to the counter when a door leading from the public area opened and a smartly dressed woman walked out. She looked in her upper thirties, roughly five six tall Ben guessed, and was wearing a white blouse under a mushroom coloured trouser suit. She had a Latin look about her.
‘Mr Williams,’ she said, holding out her hand, ‘Javiera Sanchez. Thank you for waiting.’
Chapter Seven
CRAIG TOOK THE Lieutenant’s hand and shook it. Ben did the same. ‘Ben Rook,’ he said. ‘I’m with Craig.’
Sanchez nodded. ‘Come this way, please.’
She led them through the doorway into a corridor, along which were several doors on each side. She showed them into the first room on the left. Some kind of interview or interrogation room, Ben assumed, as the furniture comprised a table about six by four, two hard looking chairs either side.
‘Sit down, please.’
Ben and Craig sat down one side of the table, Sanchez the other. ‘Are you two – together?’ she asked, slowly as if looking for the right word.
Craig had worked out what she meant before Ben. ‘No. Just friends. Ben came over with me, really just so I had some company.’
Sanchez smiled. ‘That’s nice. Mr Williams, I will need to see some ID from you first.’
‘Passport?’ Craig offered his passport.
She quickly scanned it. ‘No need,’ she said to Ben as he offered his too.
Sanchez passed Craig back his passport. ‘Well, Mr Williams, – Craig? – your father emailed me to let me know you would be coming over, so I was expecting you. But I must confess I’m not sure what you hope to achieve by coming. Your brother’s disappearance was reported to us, and we are investigating it.’
‘Things get distorted over five or six thousand miles,’ replied Craig. ‘Would you mind just giving me an update on what’s been happening? Just so it’s clear in my own mind.’
Sanchez paused a moment. ‘Okay. Most if not all of it you probably know anyway. We know your brother was in a bar with two other English guys, apparently they were all staying together. We know they kind of split up in the bar, one was playing pool, another was watching a ball game on the TV, and your brother stayed sitting at their table with a girl from another group.’
‘Stacey, apparently,’ interjected Craig.
Sanchez paused, and raised her hand slightly. ‘Well, that’s what your brother’s friends told us when we questioned them.’
‘I thought you had questioned her as well.’
‘This is
the sequence of events. The other two went off the play pool and watch TV, leaving your brother on his own. There was a group of four or five on the next table. They started talking to your brother while he was on his own. Eventually these others also went to the pool table, the rest room, wherever, leaving the girl chatting to him. After a while they carried on talking at his table. They talked alone for some while, then started to get a bit more friendly, if you know what I mean.’
‘That sounds like Adam,’ cut in Craig.
Sanchez shrugged as if to say whatever. ‘The CCTV shows the girl going to the restroom just after eleven fifteen. While she was gone, Adam went to speak to his friend at the pool table. They spoke for a minute or so, and then Adam left as well.’
‘With Stacey?’
‘It looks that way. The restroom doors are not in plain sight of the CCTV cameras. She never returned to the table. And we spoke to the guy at the pool table -’ She paused a moment. ‘Steve, I think -’
‘Yes,’ said Craig. ‘Steve Gibbs. I know him.’
‘Right. Steve Gibbs. He said that Adam went over and said he was going to take Stacey home and would see him later.’
‘So he left the bar and that was the last anyone saw of him,’ said Craig.
Ben spoke up. ‘Apart from Stacey.’
‘Apart from Stacey,’ repeated Craig.
Sanchez shook her head. ‘We don’t know that for sure. We didn’t see either of them leave, certainly not together.’
‘What did she tell you?’ Craig enquired.
Sanchez paused, looking down at the table, her left hand wiping off some imaginary dust. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing? I don’t understand.’
‘She’s told us nothing, Craig, because we haven’t spoken to her. And we haven’t spoken to her because we haven’t found her.’
Craig sat back in his chair, more than a little taken aback. ‘Sorry, I don’t understand. Again.’
‘We haven’t been able to locate her. Yet. The CCTV footage is poor, and the bar was dark anyway. The staff behind the bar hadn’t seen her before. The group she was with are all local people; they say they only met her that night themselves. Earlier on, in the bar, she just seemed to tag onto them.’
‘So they all met her in Shots that night as well?’
‘A bit of a coincidence, I agree. And strange for a girl in her early twenties to be alone in a bar in a strange town. But not impossible, in this day and age.’
Craig slowly shook his head, as if trying to understand the situation. ‘So, nobody knows her? You said in a strange town. Do you mean she was visiting the town?’
‘Craig. This is a small town. Most people know most everybody else, even if only by sight. Even though we’re not that far from the park area, we don’t get that many visitors. Most people who stay in your complex don’t venture into town; they go straight to the parks or International Drive. Or carry on straight down the I-4.’
‘What do you think happened to him?’
‘My theory is that he and this Stacey have just left town together. Your father told me he has no partner or children, so apart from work and money there’s nothing to stop him driving off somewhere with a girl he met in a bar. And she could be from anywhere, even abroad. We know he hasn’t left the US, and doesn’t need to do so for another two months.’
She paused. ‘And I hate having to bring this up, but no bodies have been found answering his description.’
Craig spoke quietly. ‘Sorry, but I’m really puzzled. My father said that you spoke to Stacey the next morning and that she told you that Adam and she got a cab to where she was staying. He dropped her off and got the cab back to our apartment.’
Sanchez held her palms out on the table. ‘No, that’s not correct. I have told you what happened. We are still looking for her.’
‘What about his phone records?’ Ben asked.
Although Ben asked the question Sanchez gave the reply to Craig. ‘You and your father know as much as we do. There was a call to your father’s home number. I mean home in the UK. That was just after midnight. He didn’t pick up. But the phone company confirmed the call came from this area.’
‘From Davenport.’
‘More or less. Within a ten mile radius.’
‘And there was second call? About five am?’
‘That’s right. Again we checked with the phone company. That call came from the Miami area. Again, ten mile radius from Downtown. Again, nobody picked up.’
She looked at her watch. ‘I’m sorry, but this is all the time I can spare you right now.’ She stood up, and Ben and Craig automatically stood too. ‘How long are you here for?’
‘Ten days. We could rebook our flights if anything comes to light.’
‘Give me your cell phone number. I’ll call you if there is any more news.’
Craig jotted down the number as they stood in the doorway to the public area.
‘Look Craig,’ Sanchez said, ‘we’re doing all we reasonably can to find your brother, but he is over twenty-one, and no crime has been committed. Just relax for a few days; take in the parks. Check in with me before you fly home, though.’
They nodded, and walked to the door.
‘One word of warning though,’ she said walking to the door with them. ‘Don’t play private eye while you’re here. This is my job, and I know what I’m doing. We all do here. I don’t want you interfering in a police investigation. Understand?’
They all shook hands again. ‘I understand,’ replied Craig.
‘Good. You take care now.’ Sanchez turned and went back though the doorway.
It was now late morning, and the heat hit them as they left the air conditioned building and walked back to the car. They crossed over the road to where they had left the Ford Fusion. As they got into the car Ben turned and looked at the police headquarters building. He thought he had a view of Lieutenant Sanchez watching them from a side window. She turned away as he saw her.
Back in the car, Craig switched the engine on and the air conditioning started. They were already sweaty just from the short walk from across the road.
‘Phew! That’s better.’ Ben adjusted his shirt.
‘Well, what do you think?’ Craig asked.
‘About what she said? I think it’s very strange that they can’t find this Stacey. They are the police after all. In any case, you told me the police spoke to her the next day. But she’s saying they didn’t.’
‘That’s that what my father told me. And he got that from Steve Gibbs and the other guy they were with.’
‘So the police might not have spoken to her.’
‘No. It looks that way. I’ll need to speak with Dad tonight and check that out. He may have Steve’s number.’
‘Would you know the other guy too?’
Craig nodded. ‘Possibly. Not very well, but we might have met before.’
‘Did you say Adam used Facebook?’
‘Yeah, why?’
‘Maybe there are some contact details on there. If you know his password you could get into his email.’
‘We’ve already looked there, before I went to your flat.’
‘You said you checked to see when the last activity was. There may be something else there, or at least some contact details for the other guys.’
Craig agreed. ‘Well at least it’s worth a try. Let’s get hold of them tonight, at least after ten or eleven. We could get back to the apartment later and get the laptop out.’
‘We could see if there’s an internet café in town. Would save having to go back. And if you’ve got Adam’s passwords we could check his mobile phone bill too.’
Craig put the car into Drive and looked round for a gap in traffic. ‘Good idea. Fancy a drink? Something cold, not that god-awful coffee.’
‘What about a visit to Shots?’ suggested Ben.
‘That’s what I was thinking. It’s not far from here. Maybe we could discretely ask a few questions ourselves.’
There m
ust have been a red light further down the street as there was a long gap in traffic. Ben expected Craig to pull out, but instead he put the parking brake back on.
‘What’s up?’ Ben asked.
‘Something’s not right,’ said Craig. ‘It’s all so convenient. Adam goes to the bar with the other two. They go their separate ways in the bar, not unlikely I grant you. Then he gets chatting to a group of strangers, again not unreasonable. They all leave, except some mystery female who they say they only met that evening. Then she and Adam leave, and that’s the last anyone sees of them.’
‘I agree. It is all a bit convenient. Do you think Sanchez isn’t being straight with us?’
‘Why wouldn’t she be? She seemed a bit embarrassed when she admitted she hadn’t spoken to Stacey. What I think is: Adam’s disappearance is low priority, despite what she said. Foreign guy picks up girl in bar, disappears. No body found. Anxious relatives thousands of miles away, until we show up. I don’t think they’re taking it seriously.’
Ben was of the same opinion. ‘I agree. Let’s see what we can find ourselves. As you say, we can’t speak with anybody back home for hours yet. Let’s go to Shots and see if we can find out anything. They might even tell us more than they told the police.’
‘That’s a good point. Come on, let’s go. I think she’s the key to all this, Ben. Particularly knowing Adam’s eye for the ladies.’
Craig turned to Ben as they stopped at a red light. ‘We’ve just got to find Stacey.’
Chapter Eight
THEY DID NOT take long to find the bar. Two right turns and three blocks later they found Shots, almost right underneath an elevated section of the 27. They pulled into the huge parking lot, which the bar seemed to share with an oriental supermarket and a printer’s. All but two of the dozen or so cars were parked at the Shots end of the lot, so Craig parked the Fusion next to one of those.
Parking in the shadow of the highway gave them some respite from the heat as there was a through breeze as well as the shade, but they had to raise their voices to be heard over the roar of the traffic above them.
‘Quite a few cars. Looks like they start early here,’ Ben called out.