He looked over the road at the newly built industrial estate that housed Gareth’s office. All beige brick walls and flat roofing that looked as if it had been bought from HomeBase and nailed on. Gareth’s office door was right at the centre of the block, and as Jimmy watched, a young man in jeans and a hoodie parked outside and unlocked the building. That must be Dave, Jimmy thought as he walked back up to the counter of the coffee shop.
‘Three lattes, please,’ he said. ‘To go.’ One for him, one for Dave, and one for Gareth. Jimmy hoped that would be enough.
‘How was your sandwich?’ the young woman behind the counter asked. Jimmy looked at her, taking in the various piercings in her face. She looked like she’d been in a car accident and not removed the shrapnel. Each to their own, Jimmy said to himself.
‘I’ve had better to be honest,’ he replied. She nodded in agreement.
‘They’re crap, aren’t they? Sorry.’
‘Did you make them?’
‘Christ no,’ the woman replied. ‘I’d be embarrassed. They get bussed in from God knows where.’
‘You don’t need to apologise, then.’ Jimmy attempted a smile and, to his surprise, the woman smiled back.
‘Six pounds eighty, please,’ she said.
‘Jesus, for three coffees?’ The woman kept smiling at Jimmy’s response. He pulled a ten pound note out of his wallet and paid her, gesturing towards the cardboard holders stacked up on the counter next to her till. ‘Can I have one of them to carry them with, or do they cost extra?’
‘Fill your boots,’ the woman replied as she handed him his change. Jimmy put the twenty pence coin into the tips jar, pocketed the pound coins, and stacked the coffees in the holder. ‘Thank you,’ she called out to him as he left the coffee shop.
‘You’re welcome,’ he mumbled as he manoeuvred his way through the door, trying not to spill any of his precious cargo.
By the time Jimmy reached the office over the road, the young man he had seen opening up was sitting behind a plain desk, tapping away on the keyboard of an enormous Mac computer. On the wall behind him was a screen-printed sign with the name of Gareth’s firm—Broadland Security Solutions—in serious looking blank lettering.
‘Are you Dave?’ Jimmy said. The man behind the keyboard, now without a hoodie on but a t-shirt advertising a band that Jimmy had never heard of, looked up and gave him an improbably white smile.
‘That’s me.’ He got to his feet, waited for Jimmy to put the coffee tray down on the desk, and extended his hand. ‘You must be Mr Tucker.’
‘How'd you know that?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Gareth described you. He’ll be here in a few minutes.’
‘I dread to think what he said about me.’
‘Nothing, don’t worry. But the big lump on the side of your head’s a bit of a giveaway.’
‘Ah, I see,’ Jimmy replied with a laugh. ‘Hey, I hope your wife wasn’t too upset with me for calling so late last night. I didn’t realise the time.’
‘No drama,’ Dave said. ‘Girlfriend though, not wife. Not a chance in hell of that happening. Pull up a chair and give me a moment to finish this e-mail.’
A moment later, Jimmy was sitting on a spare office chair at Dave’s side, waiting for him to finish what he was doing. Jimmy looked at him out of the corner of his eye, thinking about his comment about his girlfriend. It was almost sad what he had said, at least to Jimmy. Why was he with the girl if they had no long-term future? Jimmy thought back to when he was about Dave’s age and smiled wryly as he remembered what he’d been doing. It certainly wasn’t settling down. At that age, it was all about the present. Living in the moment while you’re still immortal.
‘All done,’ Dave said, breaking Jimmy’s trip down memory lane. ‘Now, let’s get that picture up.’
Dave’s hands were whizzing over the keyboard almost too fast for Jimmy to see, and within a few seconds he brought up the photograph of Milly.
‘Wow, she’s beautiful.’ Jimmy looked at him, but realised that he wasn’t saying that irreverently. He meant it. ‘You got into the phone, I take it?’
‘I did, yeah,’ Jimmy said. ‘You were right—it was a date. The passcode.’
‘Normally is in my experience. Are there many more pictures on the phone? It always helps to build up an overall perspective.’ Jimmy thought about the other photos on the phone, but there was no way anyone other than him would see them.
‘No, just this one.’ Jimmy looked away as he said this, knowing that Dave would see that he was lying if he didn’t.
‘Okay, what is it you want to know?’ Dave asked, and Jimmy realised from his expression that it hadn’t worked.
‘Whatever you can tell me.’
‘Do you want me to just tell you, or walk you through it?’ Dave looked at Jimmy with a serious expression. ‘In case you find any other photos? Then you’ll know what to do?’
‘I’ve only got an old laptop,’ Jimmy replied, grateful to the young man for his sincerity. ‘I haven’t got any special software on it.’
‘Windows or Mac?’
‘It’s a MacBook.’
‘Good man. Right, first you open the photo in preview mode.’ He pointed at the screen. ‘Like this. Then click on Tools, and Show Inspector.’ Jimmy looked as a new window opened up to the side of Milly’s face. ‘Now, see these four tabs across the top? The first one’s just general information on the photo. Colour model, size, resolution, that sort of thing. Nothing useful, really. The next tab is the camera information. That’s got the date and time of the photograph.’
Jimmy squinted at the screen to read the date. The picture had been taken a couple of weeks before Milly had disappeared. At almost eleven o’clock in the evening. But in the photograph, she looked as if she was about to leave the room, not stay the night. That didn’t fit with Jimmy’s unknown boyfriend theory.
‘Okay,’ Jimmy said. ‘Thanks.’
‘Next tab is probably the most useful.’ Jimmy watched as Dave clicked on an area marked GPS on the window. Jimmy scanned over the text that came up briefly, but his attention was immediately drawn to a small map at the bottom of the window with a red pin in it. Even if it hadn’t had the word Norwich in bold black letters, Jimmy would have recognised the city’s road layout. He’d driven around enough times in his bin lorry. ‘Can you click there?’ He tried to hide the tremble in his fingers as he pointed at a box on the screen with the text Show in Map written on it.
‘Sure.’ Dave did as Jimmy asked, and a new window opened up. Within a few seconds, Jimmy was looking at an overhead schematic of Norwich’s city centre. It took him a while to orientate himself, but he realised it was the Bank Plain area in the shadow of Norwich Castle. Without being asked, Dave switched the view to a satellite perspective and zoomed in on the red pin.
Jimmy looked at the square grey rectangular roof with the pin in the centre. Just next to the pin was a small purple icon with a white cartoon bed.
‘The Royal,’ Jimmy whispered. Dave clicked on the icon and a box popped up confirming what he had just said. It was the Royal Hotel. ‘I do their bins.’
The two men sat in silence for a moment until Dave turned to Jimmy.
‘That’s about it, Jimmy,’ he said, ‘in terms of what you can find out easily.’
‘That’s fantastic, thank you.’
‘And if you did, er, find any more photographs, then that’s how you can get the hidden information. Assuming that the camera has got the right tech, of course. Phones all have as long as it’s turned on, but not every camera has. Gareth mentioned a photographer. Even if he’s got a high-end camera, it might not have a GPS chip in it.’
‘Okay, thanks. I owe you one.’
‘No, you don’t,’ Dave replied. ‘If you want me to have a look at the phone, just drop it by. There’s a lot of other stuff I can do if I’ve got the actual device. And don’t worry, I’m very discrete.’
‘You’d better be, the amount I pay you.’ Jimmy had been so
engrossed in what was on the computer screen that he’d completely missed Gareth walking into his office. ‘Is that for me?’ Jimmy looked away from the screen to see Gareth pointing at the coffee cup on the desk.
‘It is, yes,’ Jimmy replied.
‘You’re a star, cheers. Has Dave been helpful?’
‘Massively. I found a photo on Milly’s phone and now know where it was taken. If it weren’t for Dave here, I wouldn’t have got either the photo or the location.’
‘It’s easy when you know how,’ Dave replied with a self-deprecating grin.
‘Everyone hates a smart arse, Dave,’ Gareth said. ‘You of all people should know that.’ As Dave’s grin faded, Gareth turned his attention to Jimmy. ‘You should let us have a look at that phone, Jimmy. Young Dave here, geek that he is, will be able to get all sorts of information off it.’
‘Such as what?’
‘Where Milly’s been, places she visits regularly. Contacts, phone logs, photos,’ Dave said. ‘Nothing ever gets deleted properly. Not these days.’
‘Is that legal?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Sure it is,’ Dave replied. ‘It’s all there, hidden in plain sight.’
‘There're no contacts in the phone,’ Jimmy said. ‘The only thing I could find were some photos and calls from random mobile numbers.’ Too late, Jimmy realised he’d said photos, not photo.
‘That doesn’t mean there never were any contacts,’ Dave said. ‘And the mobile numbers can probably be traced.’
‘That bit might not be quite so legal,’ Gareth chipped in. ‘It doesn’t mean we can’t do it, but why not just turn the phone over to the Old Bill?’
‘Maybe I will,’ Jimmy replied. ‘In a little while.’ He paused for a second. ‘Listen, I’m really grateful for your help. Thank you.’ He got to his feet and took a couple of steps toward the door. ‘I’m heading into the city. Got a few bits to do.’
‘Wait there, Jimmy,’ Gareth said. ‘I’ll give you a lift.’
‘Honestly, it’s fine,’ Jimmy replied. ‘I’ll get the bus.’
‘You’ll have to change at least twice.’ Gareth shrugged himself into his coat. ‘It’s just started raining as well. I need to go to Castle Mall, so I’ll drop you off there. You’re going to have a look at the Royal, I take it?’
‘Er, yeah. Might as well. See what’s what.’
‘So I’ll give you a lift. I want to have a chat with you about that photographer, Max.’
Chapter 31
‘Thanks for this, Gareth,’ Jimmy said as he watched the long string of brake lights in front of them. The wipers screeched across the windscreen, and Gareth tutted as he flicked them off.
‘No problem, mate,’ he replied. ‘It’s Laura’s birthday coming up, so I need to get her something.’
‘Any progress on that front?’ Jimmy asked with a slight grin. Gareth glanced across at him before turning his attention back to the queue of traffic.
‘No, but thanks for asking,’ Gareth said, also smiling. ‘She told me about the clothes in Milly’s wardrobe.’
‘Maybe she was dropping hints about her birthday present from you?’
‘Maybe she was,’ Gareth replied with a laugh. ‘But I was thinking more of a bottle of perfume than a three hundred quid dress.’
‘Treat them mean, keep them keen,’ Jimmy said. ‘Not sure I agree with it, but it seems to work for some people.’
‘You’re right there. So, this Max chap.’ The conversation about Laura was over. ‘I’ve done a bit of digging. He’s not a very nice bloke.’
‘I got that impression when I went to his studio.’
‘He’s got form. Sexual assault. He was going to be charged with attempted rape, but he had a good brief. That’s why he left London—before he got his bollocks cut off by the girl’s father.’
‘How'd you find that out?’ Jimmy asked.
‘Friend of a friend,’ Gareth replied with a wry grin. ‘Apparently if your friend Max goes anywhere within the M25 motorway around London, it’s game on for most of the boys in London to have a pop.’ His grin broadened. ‘He chose the wrong father to piss off.’ He frowned and switched the wipers back on for a single sweep of the windscreen. ‘So, what’s on the phone?’
‘Like I said, a photo of Milly and a bunch of random mobile numbers.’
‘A photo?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Bollocks is there only one photo on it. What else?’
Jimmy looked at Gareth, but the other man was fixated on the lights of the traffic in front of them.
‘There're some photos of Milly. Taken in a room in the Royal Hotel, based on what Dave found out.’
‘What sort of photos? Porn?’
‘No,’ Jimmy replied, suddenly feeling nauseated. He opened the window just a couple of inches to let some fresh air into the car. The direction the conversation was going was making it very hot in the vehicle. ‘She was in a dressing gown, heading for the shower. There’s one or two of her getting dressed after the shower.’ He closed his eyes for a second, and the photographs flashed across the inside of his eyelids like a slideshow.
‘Right,’ Gareth said. ‘So what’s your next move, assuming you’re not going to the police with what you’ve found?’
‘It’s all about the photographer. He knows something. It was his thumb drive with the original pictures on. He normally charges three grand for a set of modelling photos, but if the women can’t pay, then he trades with them.’
‘You think that’s what Milly did?’
‘Could you pull over just here, Gareth,’ Jimmy said, his mouth suddenly full of saliva.
When he had finished vomiting on the pavement, watched by the entire bottom deck of the Number 24 bus which chose that moment to creep past him, Jimmy sat back in the passenger seat. Gareth handed him a bottle of mineral water, which he took gratefully. He sipped from the bottle, having to force the warm liquid down his throat past the painful lump in the centre of his chest.
‘Sorry about that,’ Jimmy whispered. ‘That sandwich from Starbucks must have been dodgy.’ Gareth didn’t reply. ‘You’ve not got kids, have you?’
‘No,’ Gareth replied. ‘Me and Jennifer never got the chance.’
‘Joe told me your wife died. I’m really sorry.’ He swallowed, wondering whether to tell Gareth about Hannah. In the end, he decided against it. The atmosphere in the car was bad enough as it was. ‘If you’d had kids and that happened to one of them, what would you do?’
‘I don’t even need to think about it,’ Gareth replied. ‘I wouldn’t wait for the boys from London to catch up with him. I’d cut his fucking bollocks off myself.’
A few moments later, having checked that Jimmy was okay to get back into the traffic jam, Gareth pulled away from the kerb in front of a large black Land Rover whose driver wasn’t keen to let him out and leaned on the horn to make sure Gareth knew that.
’So, what’s next?’ he said, glaring at the driver through his rear-view mirror.
‘I need more information,’ Jimmy said. ‘Like we talked about in the pub. What was the word you used? Recognisance?’
‘Reconnaissance,’ Gareth replied. ‘Like finding out where he lives, which you’ve already done.’
‘I met his girlfriend, briefly.’
‘Did you? You never mentioned that. What’s she like?’
‘Pretty. Very pretty. And battered.’ Jimmy saw Gareth’s lips tighten as he said this. ‘I want to know what other pictures he’s got of Milly. I need to know what she’s got herself involved in. What do you think? Could Dave hack into his studio computers? I saw that in a film once. This bloke sat outside a business on a laptop and got in that way.’
‘No, it’s not quite that easy and besides, there won’t be anything on them. All his files are kept somewhere else. Every night, he takes home an external hard drive, so he must have his main server there.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I’m a security consultant, Jimmy,’ Gareth replied.
‘It’s kind of my job to know stuff like that. Fishy as fuck, though. No way to run a business. He should back them up on a remote cloud service straight from his studio, but he’s not even got Wi-Fi in there.’ Jimmy looked at him, frowning. ‘I sent Dave down there to check things out, that’s how I know how Max does his business. The woman with the purple hair took quite a shine to Dave, by all accounts.’
‘Rachel.’
‘If you say so. Dave offered them a free security assessment. That’s how we get new business—go into a place, point out all the flaws in their security, and then they pay us to close them. Most of them do, anyway.’
‘What was Max’s reaction?’
‘He told Dave to fuck off. The studio doesn’t need any extra security, apparently.’
‘What’s your take on that?’
‘He’s got something to hide.’
‘Precisely my point. Milly’s all I’ve got left, Gareth,’ Jimmy said, trying to keep his voice even. ‘I’ve got to find out where she is. I don’t care what she’s done, who she’s been with. I just want her back.’
Gareth drove in silence for a few moments. As they approached the city centre, the traffic started to lighten. Jimmy was lost in his thoughts. Should he go to the police with what he had? But what did he actually have? Some photographs of his daughter in a hotel room? Apart from the fact that Milly was missing, there was nothing for them to investigate.
Jimmy crossed his arms over his chest, the pain from vomiting earlier still there but much less intense. He knew what he wanted to do, but it wasn’t something he was going to be able to do on his own. Jimmy nodded, his mind made up.
‘I’m going to get into his flat,’ he said. Gareth looked over at him, his eyebrows raised. ‘Find his server, or hard drive, or wherever he’s keeping everything, and take it.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘That’s what you were telling me in the pub.’
‘That’s not quite what I said, Jimmy,’ Gareth replied. ‘I said you needed to get as much information as you could on the man so you knew who you were dealing with. Not burgle his flat.’
Finding Milly Page 20