Chapter 8: Chapter 8

THIRTEEN

‘How are we doing on the van front?’ Gina asked as she grabbed a biscuit from the central table. ‘These cookies are the best so far. Tell Mrs O that she’s a genius.’

O’Connor looked up and Jacob glanced at him. ‘I bought them from the bakery on the way in,’ Jacob said as he placed his down next to his computer.

That was the second time in so many days she’d dropped herself in it. First with the lie she’d told when leaving the station the other evening. ‘I can taste it now. Definitely shop bought – totally inferior. Look, I’m sorry.’

O’Connor’s serious stare turned into a fit of laughter. ‘Give over, guv. It’s no big deal. I won’t tell my lovely wife, who works hard for hours on end to try and make us all happy with her really special cookies. I won’t ever tell her you preferred the mass-produced version.’

At least he wasn’t about to hold it against her. Any more guilt loaded on the guilt pile would probably drive her insane. She shook her head. She had to learn to let these things drop and move on. Hannah would get over their argument, eventually. Wyre didn’t really care that she didn’t go to the pub for her birthday drink and O’Connor couldn’t give a stuff that she really liked the cookies his wife didn’t bake. Time to

take charge and stop dwelling on things she couldn’t change. ‘Right. Where’s Wyre? We have CCTV I hear. I want to see it.’

‘Morning, guv.’ Wyre entered with a coffee. ‘I’ll just get it up on my screen and we can have another look. Unfortunately it’s too blurry to see much. We do know from the shape etcetera, that we’re definitely looking for a Transit van. That narrows the search down quite a bit. The camera was too far back to see the lettering. It looks like three strips of green on the side panel so that matches the description that Toby Biddle gave.’ She leaned forward and clicked into the system, selecting the CCTV file.

The clip lasted all of six seconds. The van passed the house. The doors at the back were closed at the time and there was no way they’d have any hope of getting a registration number. The resolution was so poor they’d only be able to confirm what they already knew.

‘O’Connor, any luck with the list of van owners that Briggs passed to us? We can now narrow that down to just Transit vans. Start within a five-mile radius of the incident.’

‘That’s exactly what I did, guv. I have thirty-seven left to contact.’

‘If we don’t get any further, we’ll start moving outwards until we find the driver.’

O’Connor rubbed his head. ‘Then there’s all the people who have phoned in. There are absolutely stacks.’

‘Can we get Smith to help?’

O’Connor shook his head. ‘Already tried that one. They’re busy with other cases.’

‘I suppose you’d best get cracking then. Any news on the girl?’ If only they could ask her what had happened, they’d get all the answers they needed.

‘No. Doctor Nowak called. She’s still in a medically- induced coma. He described her condition as highly critical.’

‘Not good.’

‘It’s not,’ O’Connor replied. ‘Like you said, all we have is the van lead.’

‘Unless forensics come up with something. Anything back from Bernard yet?’ She could hope. She knew they had been busy with people taking holiday and other things they were working on. Also, budgets had been tightened again. Gina could mark everything a priority but they still took time. As it stood, they had a girl who seemed to be a drug user, possibly climb into a van and jump out. That was the very least. At the worst, they had an escaped abductee who was now in Cleevesford intensive care unit and could possibly die. As the girl’s last words were ‘help her’, Gina suspected the latter.

‘Not a jot.’ O’Connor continued making notes on his list. ‘Any further CCTV footage from the area?’

‘Most of the ones we checked were used for personal security on some of the bigger houses. The footage hadn’t tracked the roads and many of the cameras were only there to deter, so were not working.’

‘Have you and Wyre been looking into missing persons? The girl wanted us to help someone. Missing persons is the best place to start looking.’

‘Started to, guv.’ His phone went and he placed it to his ear. ‘Thank goodness for that.’ He shuffled the dismantled report into a thick pile and smiled. ‘That’s great. Thank you.’

‘Well?’ Gina asked.

‘A lead. It’s the van driver. Someone has called in and emailed the CCTV footage that overlooks their gate and a bit of the road. We have the van in full clear view. I’ll call the company now.’ He scoffed the rest of his cookie and snapped his fingers.

FOURTEEN

‘I gather you’re not making breakfast. Shall I grab a couple of bacon sandwiches from the buttie van?’ Roy asked as he pushed Christina’s bedroom door open. The buttie van had been one of their regular treats before Christina had left.

Julia looked up from her daughter’s pillow. ‘Do what you like. I don’t want anything.’ She wanted him to hurry up and leave for work, like he did every morning, especially after their argument in Worcester over the posters. She wanted him to leave her alone with her thoughts. Instead, he walked over and sat on the bed.

‘Shall I call in sick? Maybe we could go out for breakfast.’

The last thing she wanted to do was go out and waste money they didn’t have on something that was no good for them with a man who had given up on her daughter. Since she left her job, they only had his income coming in. She shook her head and stared at the wall.

‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ he said. ‘It just all got too much for me. I don’t want to lose you.’

He was trying to make it up to her but his efforts weren’t enough. He’d left her alone in Worcester to catch the bus home. He hadn’t cared about how she’d felt. No one did.

Everyone shared his views on her daughter, even her parents. Yes, the girl had been hard work, yes, she was plain rude most of the time and, yes, she could be hurtful when she didn’t get what she wanted. But Julia knew the little girl she’d brought up, mostly alone, was still there somewhere, underneath the shower of hormones and anger. The neighbours had been fed up with the door slamming and the sound of her music blaring out of the window, which led to reports of noise pollution to environmental health. The school were never happy with her. She never tried hard enough, bunked off, had been cheeky to the teachers and didn’t care if they gave her detentions. Roy fell into the category of not caring. She’d seen that for herself. While he was whistling around the house looking like he’d won the EuroMillions, she’d been sinking into a depression. ‘I want you to go to work. I need to be alone.’

He leaned over and kissed her on the head. For the first time, she felt nothing. ‘If you need anything, just call.’

She needed his help yesterday while she was breaking down in Worcester. She needed someone to tell her everything would be okay. He could stick his empty promises. She listened as he thundered down the stairs in his heavy work boots and slammed the front door. Rolling off the bed, she watched as he got into the car and drove off.

Christina’s room was exactly as she left it. Her clothes were still strewn all over the floor. The towels she’d last used to dry herself on were still hanging over her desk chair and a half-eaten packet of cherry drops had spilled onto her bedside table. Julia had been through everything, carefully placing each item back after searching through it. There were no clues as to where she might be.

Her mobile lit up. It was one of Christina’s school friends. ‘Mrs Dawson—’

‘Have you heard from Christina?’ Blood rushed through Julia’s head as she listened to the girl shouting at her younger brother to get out of her room.

‘No, it’s just something I was thinking about the other day.’

Julia’s fingers began to tremble as she gripped the phone. ‘What do you know?’

The girl paused. ‘It’s not much. She made me promise not to say but I thought I should call. I thought she’d come home by now. She hasn’t even called me back. I’m so worried.’

‘Look, you did the right thing. Tell me what you know.’ ‘She called me a week after she left…’

Julia waited, open-mouthed as her heart began to pound.

What had Christina been hiding?

FIFTEEN

‘The van driver’s waiting in the interview room,’ Jacob said as he grabbed his notebook. ‘He confirms that he was the one driving the van that morning but says he knows nothing about a girl being in his van.’

‘Darren Mason, aged nineteen?’ Gina glanced at her notes. ‘That’s the one.’

They hurried to the interview room and saw the young man sitting there, almost disappearing under the desk. Gina cast her eyes over him, he looked about fifteen. Fresh acne covered his already scarred forehead and chin. She watched as he began picking at what looked like yesterday’s half dried spot. Although quite short and boyish, Gina noticed how stocky he looked, like he did weight training.

‘Mr Mason, Darren. What do you prefer to be called?’ Gina asked as she and Jacob sat opposite him.

He moved his hands away from his face and linked his fingers on the table. ‘Darren. My friends call me Daz.’

‘The interview will be taped so that we can refer to it at a later date.’

‘Am I in any trouble? I didn’t know she was in the van.’

‘At the moment we just need to establish what happened. We have a witness who saw a girl falling out of your van. That girl is in a critical state in hospital. We need you to tell us in as much detail as you can, all that you can remember and what happened on the morning of Saturday the fourteenth of July.’

Jacob nodded and started the recording device.

‘Interview with Darren Steven Mason, aged nineteen years old. DI Harte and DS Driscoll present. Date is Monday the sixteenth of July, 2018,’ Jacob confirmed.

Gina leaned forward. ‘Please tell me, in your own words, what happened last Saturday morning.’

Darren unlocked his hands and placed them out of sight, under the table. ‘At the weekends I help with the family business. My dad lets me use the van all the time even in the week. I go to university in Birmingham and work weekends. Mechanical Engineering.’ He paused as if he was waiting for praise before realising nothing was going to be said and continuing. ‘My dad owns Mason and Sons Tree Surgery, a company based in Warwick. I live at home with him and I was heading into Cleevesford on a job.’

‘What job was that?’

‘A domestic. Someone’s tree was overgrown. It was a straightforward trimming job, which is why I was doing it. My dad doesn’t trust me with anything more demanding yet, which is disappointing. It was an older lady, about fifty, lives on Brindle Lane, the number is on an email.’

Gina wondered if he was purposely being antagonistic or if referring to fifty as old was merely youthful innocence. She was in her mid-forties. Admittedly, some days she felt older

but fifty and older lady, in the same sentence? Her feelings towards him had cooled even more.

Gina glanced at her notes and almost wanted to smile. Something didn’t add up and the detail was in his route. ‘Why were you driving down Laurel Lane if you were coming from Warwick?’

‘I err… I hadn’t come from Warwick that morning. I’d come from Redditch. I stayed at a friend’s flat. He lives in Winyates, in a flat in the centre.’

Gina glanced at Jacob. ‘What is your friend called?’ ‘Callum, Callum Besford.’

‘So you stayed with your friend Callum. Tell me what happened from then.’

Sweat beads lined up along the young man’s forehead, mingling with his floppy fringe. His black oily hair shone like it was almost white on top as the light caught it. ‘We got up about six… I mean, I got up about seven and left. I can’t really remember the exact time. All I knew was I wanted to get the job done before it got hot. The woman said she was up early and she didn’t have any neighbours close by so I thought I’d get over there, get the job done and have the rest of the day to chill with… I mean, go home.’

Gina sensed some hesitation as he spoke. He got up at seven or was it six? Did both of them get up or just the one? He closed his eyes at the mention of Callum’s name.

‘I was meant to be trimming the Brindle Lane lady’s trees, in Cleevesford, for seven thirty. I remember stopping at the garage on Crump Lane to grab a coffee. This had to be about ten past seven. I drank most of it in the car park, so spent about five minutes there and carried on towards Cleevesford.’

He said he’d been hired to trim a tree, now it was trees. Maybe he was nervous, maybe he was trying hard to remember what he’d said a minute ago. A bead of sweat escaped down his forehead and slid past his eye. She could tell he wanted to wipe it away but he was resisting. His left eye half closed as it settled in on the edge of his eye. Trying to be in control, he left it and stopped flinching.

‘Did you hear or see anything that aroused your suspicion?’

‘No. Nothing. I noticed that as I was pulling into Cleevesford my van door was open. Luckily the tools were all strapped in, something my father never stops going on about.’

‘Was the back door locked when you began your journey?’

He stared at the wall, over her shoulder. ‘I thought it was, but it can’t have been. There was no sign of anyone breaking in. I must have left it unlocked. My dad will kill me. He won’t find out that I left it unlocked, will he? You don’t have to tell him that?’ He wiped the sweat with his sleeve. He was losing control.

‘Darren, a girl was witnessed falling out of the back of your van on that Saturday morning. That girl is now in intensive care, fighting for her life. The van door being unlocked is the last thing to worry about. Do you know how she came to be in your van?’

‘No.’ The gentle tone he’d begun speaking in was replaced by a sharp response.

‘Did you hear her getting in or falling out of your van?’ ‘I didn’t hear anything. I had music on.’

‘What were you listening to?’

‘What? I don’t know. Loud music.’

‘All the way from Laurel Lane to your job in Cleevesford, you didn’t hear the van door flapping open and closed as you weaved in and out of the country lanes?’

‘No.’

‘We will need to examine your van. Can we please have your keys?’

‘No. I’m not under arrest and I’ve answered all your questions. You’re not having the van. My dad will kill me and I need it. I’m done here.’ He went to stand.

‘Mr Mason, please sit.’

‘No. I’ve finished here.’ Again, he began weaving his fingers together as he stared at the wall. ‘I want a solicitor.’

‘Okay. Darren Steven Mason. I’m arresting you on suspicion of kidnap. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

Before anything could be tampered with she needed to see his van and get hold of his phone. She needed Bernard and Keith to check it out as a potential crime scene. Under section eighteen, she needed his house searched and the clothing he was wearing on that Saturday morning seized.

‘Have the van keys been booked in?’ Jacob nodded.

The company had been called in advance so that they could identify who was driving the van that day and that had led them to Darren, son of the company owner. The man had quickly given his son’s name and then started ranting about

how badly his son always drove the van and that he’d pay any fines. Gina wondered if his father had known something and had been overcompensating or if he simply knew nothing. Had he warned his son and had he – or they – already dumped potential evidence? More than likely. Her mind flashed back to the list of names she’d got from Facebook that she’d forwarded to O’Connor. Dazza Mason was on that list. His friends had tagged him in the post. He’d already been on O’Connor’s list. They’d have got to him eventually.

‘What? You can’t take my keys. I haven’t done anything. I told you. I don’t know anything about anyone getting in my van or falling out.’

‘Mr Mason. My colleague, DS Driscoll, will explain what happens next. This is a very serious charge and you’ve refused to cooperate with our investigation. We will keep you updated and a duty solicitor will be provided at your request. You also have the right to make a phone call.’

Jacob completed the interview with the time and stopped the recording. Gina pushed her chair back and left, leaving Jacob to continue booking Darren Mason into custody.

Briggs came out of the viewing room. ‘There’s something he’s holding back.’

‘I could tell. Right, the clock is ticking and we need to present something good to the CPS,’ Gina replied. The Crown Prosecution Service would need more than they currently had. She sincerely hoped that what they’d find in his van or home would give them what they needed and provide closure to the case.

Jacob left the interview room with the van keys and Darren’s mobile phone, both in a clear evidence bag. Gina took the bag. ‘I need to see his van. Oh, and Crump Lane. Get

Wyre to call the petrol station and tell them we are coming for the CCTV. I want to know what he’s hiding.’