Cold Justice (4 page)

‘Best to talk it through with Toby,’ Pam said. ‘See what paperwork he’s got on his dad’s finances, everything. Get his permission to contact the solicitor holding all the probate papers.’

‘Has Lauren’s family got money?’ asked Carter. ‘Have they got any dubious connections that might stretch this far over the sea?’

Hector answered: ‘I’m talking with Interpol but so far there are no skeletons in Lauren’s closet.’

‘If it’s a ransom, there’s still time for them to come forward,’ Carter said.

‘There’s no doubt that without her wage they could not enjoy their current lifestyle. But they don’t own a property,’ said Pam. ‘We know her company pays for the flat they live in. No one could have thought they were worth a ransom.’

‘We don’t know what other secrets JFW might have been concealing?’ Pam added, already amassing intimate details of the former politician’s life.

‘We need permission to search his father’s flat,’ said Carter.

‘Where was it?’

‘Canary Wharf,’ replied Carter. ‘It’s a rented flat. We’re not going to have long before it has to be vacated.’

‘Revenge then?’ Robbo said, as he rocked on his chair and laid out his Haribo in a line. ‘After all, politicians piss people off, especially ones who specialize in having underage sex and getting away with it. He must have committed suicide for a reason.’

A missing child and a dead politician – the press will think all their Christmases had come at once.

The door opened.

‘Sir? A man’s been detained at Folkestone trying to board a ferry with a young boy answering the description of Samuel Forbes-Wright.’

Folkestone

The reversing vehicle backed noisily, spreading its flashing orange glow across the wet tarmac. Carter pulled over and parked.

‘Jesus Christ!’ The wind almost took the door from Carter’s hand as he fought to hold on to it. He slammed the door shut and started walking.

To their right, the black water was a bitter-cold backdrop to the bright lights of the ferry as it was being cleaned ready for the next passage to France.

‘We could be in luck here,’ he said to Willis as she marched across the tarmac, slightly ahead of him, head down. Willis’s eyes were watering. She wiped her nose with the heel of her hand and dried it on her trousers as they walked together towards the terminal building. Carter’s metal-tipped shoes scraped as he walked smartly across to the harbour master’s office.

‘I sent a photo to the parents,’ she said, taking out her phone to check for a reply.

‘And?’

‘It’s come back as a “Negative”.’

‘Shit. Well, we need to check it out anyway. Kids can be made to look very different very fast.’

A dark-haired man of about fifty looked up at them as they entered the office, a small blond boy asleep on his lap. A police officer was sitting between the man and the door. He stood as Carter and Willis entered the room. Carter took out his badge; Willis did the same.

‘PC Littlemore, sir. This is Mr Mancey and his son Drew.’

‘Sorry to put you through this, Mr Mancey.’ Carter came to perch on the corner of the desk next to them.

The man blinked red-eyed at them as he held tightly on to the sleeping child, who looked a lot like the pictures of the Forbes-Wright child. Carter reached forward as he studied the boy.

‘Do you mind?’ He went to sweep the child’s hair away from his eyes so that he could see his eyebrow. Mancey raised a hand to stop him and then withdrew it with a disgruntled nod.

Carter lifted the lad’s hair and moved in to look at the left side of his face. Willis stepped in close beside him. Carter looked at her; she confirmed what he was thinking with a small shake of the head.

‘I hear you didn’t have the right documentation to take Drew on board the ferry?’ Carter said as he withdrew.

‘I didn’t know he needed a passport to cross the Channel. Since when?’

‘You wouldn’t be able to get back into the UK without a passport for the boy. He’s your son?’

‘Yes.’

‘Do you have any form of ID for him?’

‘No – like I said to the idiot who stopped me – if I’d realized things had changed I would have brought it. We’ve missed our ferry. What are we supposed to do now?’

‘Apologies, Mr Mancey, we have to be very cautious these days. We can let you go now, if you wish to continue your journey. Sorry to have troubled you.’

On the way out Carter called Robbo. ‘Any luck with the searches?’

‘We have hundreds of people out there, dogs and helicopters. The public have really rallied for this. If he’d got out of the buggy by himself, I think we would have found him by now. We are definitely looking at abduction. Chief Inspector Bowie says he’ll head up a press conference tomorrow.’

‘Okay. Makes sense; they’re going to want to see some brass. I’ll have the release ready for him to deliver in the morning. What about Jeanie, has she phoned?’

‘Yes. She says she’ll see you back here. I guess we’ll all be working through the night?’

‘I don’t think you even have a home, Robbo.’

‘Yeah, yeah, don’t let my wife hear you say that.’ He laughed.

Jeanie was waiting for Carter and Willis when they got back at eleven. Willis had made Carter stop and pick up supplies for the night. The smell of kebab filled the inspector’s room. Carter shared an office with two other inspectors but they were both out coordinating the search for Samuel.

‘Any muffins?’ asked Jeanie as she joined them in the office. ‘No wonder you’re hiding in here, you two. They’re a hungry pack of wolves out there.’

‘I’ve ordered pizza for the office. It’s on its way, just Willis wanted extra,’ Carter said.

‘Here, Jeanie.’ Willis handed her a bag. ‘Carter said you’d go for a blueberry with a lemon-curd centre.’

Jeanie stood and blinked at Carter and then chuckled, embarrassed.

‘Perfect, thanks.’ She looked genuinely touched.

Carter grinned smugly. He could have added that you don’t have a long relationship with someone and not know what kind of muffin they like but he didn’t. They were both with different partners now, both had kids. The fact that they still worked together was difficult, but not impossible.

‘What are your thoughts on them, Jeanie?’ he said, opening the takeaway containers on his desk and trying to fend Willis off as he ate his chicken. ‘What kind of things are they saying to one another?’

‘There’s definitely more than a hint of blame creeping in now. Only Toby has the answers and he’s out with the fairies most of the time.’

‘Are we completely discounting her as a possible suspect?’ Willis said with a mouth full of food as she attacked her large doner kebab in pitta, extra chilli sauce and mayo.

Jeanie nodded thoughtfully as she picked at her muffin. ‘Yes, almost definitely, she had neither the motive nor the opportunity. She has nothing to gain and everything to lose. We know how hard this is for her.’ Jeanie looked to Carter for confirmation. He nodded.

‘It’s the worst possible thing you can imagine.’

‘Right then.’ Carter opened one of six files on the desk. ‘Here are the photos taken of Toby’s walk. I want us to look for people passing by who appear more than once. We need to double-check all this footage. There is no such thing as plain careless, lots of people are not the most watchful parents and they don’t have their child snatched out of their buggy. Someone must have been following, must have hovered, must have looked like they were ready to snatch.’

Tuesday 4 February

Detective Chief Inspector Bowie stood on the stage at ten the next morning. Behind him was the bold blue backdrop flag of the Metropolitan Police.

‘Yesterday afternoon, between the time of four ten and five fifteen, two-year-old Samuel Forbes-Wright went missing from his buggy while out with his father Toby. Before I bring in Samuel’s parents I will give you an update on the investigation so far.’

Carter studied the audience from his seat on the stage behind the long desk. Willis stood at the back of the room. DCI Bowie looked a little more groomed than usual. Someone had bothered to tell him that just wetting his hair and plastering it back wasn’t the same as washing it. His uniform had replaced the cheap work suit: starched and pristine with shiny buttons. His watery blue eyes seemed fixed on a horizon above the press.

‘As soon as we received a phone call from Lauren Forbes-Wright telling us that her son was missing we immediately began a detailed search of the area. Hundreds of officers have been deployed. We have brought in every resource at our disposal, no expense has been spared. This includes helicopter and river-boat searches and analysing CCTV footage as we piece together the last hour of Toby Forbes-Wright’s movements with Samuel. Yes?’

‘How large is the area being searched?’

‘We are searching a substantial area of Greenwich Park and the town itself.’

‘Do you have any idea how long the Royal Observatory will remain closed? Is it considered one of the most important sites?’

‘I can’t tell you how long it will remain closed. It is of interest to us, that’s all.’

‘Have you any suspects in custody?’

‘No.’

‘Any recent incidents that are similar?’

‘No one has come forward with any information as yet, no.’

‘Any paedophiles operating in the area?’

‘A thorough investigation is taking place into anyone known to the police. We are committing huge resources to enable us to put as many feet on the ground as necessary.’

‘What about Jeremy Forbes-Wright? Could it be connected to his suicide?’

Carter watched Bowie preparing for the question. That was the only reason Bowie was up there now. He wasn’t the Senior Investigating Officer on the abduction case – Carter was – but he was giving the press what they expected when such a high-profile family hit the news. Bowie’s job was as a spokesman.

‘We do not know what the motive was for taking Samuel. We are urging whoever has him to release him safely now. We need the public’s help to find him. Look in your garden sheds, look in any outbuildings, get outside today and search for us. I will bring in Mr and Mrs Forbes-Wright to make a personal appeal now, thank you.’

Jeanie led Toby and Lauren into the room. She showed them to their seats centre stage and sat down on the far side of Lauren. The room filled with camera flashes and the sound of digital shutters clicking furiously.

Jeanie leaned across to adjust Lauren’s microphone. Before turning it on, she whispered: ‘I will draw back from you and Toby when they start asking questions. It’s going to be a mass of flashes and noise, don’t let it get to you. Remember – when you read your statement, make sure you look at the cameras.’

Lauren nodded. Toby Forbes-Wright sat, head bowed.

Willis stayed at the back of the room and watched them. Lauren didn’t seem to want to offer any comfort to her husband, thought Willis. She wasn’t leaning towards him, or including him. She looked like she was dealing with it on her own. Lauren turned back towards Jeanie.

‘Are you ready, Lauren?’ asked Carter.

She nodded.

‘Lauren Forbes-Wright will read a statement,’ Carter said. The room went quiet.

Lauren took a deep breath. She had her statement on a sheet of paper in front of her but she didn’t read from it. She looked around the room helplessly.

‘When did you first notice that Samuel was missing, Mrs Forbes-Wright?’ asked one of the broadsheet journalists.

Jeanie looked at Carter and he nodded that they should run with it.

‘I was finishing off some work . . .’ She stopped and fought back the tears. ‘I was waiting for them to come back. Toby had taken him for a walk.’ She looked across at Jeanie. Willis wondered why she didn’t look at her husband. She was alienating him. He sat with his head bowed. They did not look like a united couple. The press had already picked up on it. The cameras clicked continually in his direction. ‘I met them downstairs. I was going to open the door for him, to help with the buggy. Then I saw that Samuel was gone.’ Lauren turned to Jeanie.

Jeanie gave her a smile that said:
Let’s go back to
the script.

‘Toby.’ A journalist at the front addressed him directly: ‘Was your father, Jeremy Forbes-Wright, close to Samuel?’

Toby looked around the room as if seeking help from anyone who might give it. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

Jeanie intervened. She picked up the statement in front of Lauren. ‘Lauren and Toby are finding it difficult to cope with the events that happened yesterday. They are living through a nightmare. They have no idea who would want to do this to their son, to themselves or to anyone connected with their family. Lauren and Toby want to appeal to everyone out there to look for Toby.’ Jeanie turned to Lauren.

Lauren nodded in response. She lifted her head up and fought back tears. ‘Please don’t hurt him. Please tell us what you want and give me my little boy back. Samuel . . . Mommy and Daddy love you very, very much.’

Carter came to find Willis at her desk after the press conference. She looked up from studying the CCTV footage of Toby walking past the
Cutty Sark.
‘Jeanie’s still here, she says the Forbes-Wrights want to be on their own for a while,’ she said.

‘I bet they do. They were pretty convincing, I thought.’

Willis nodded warily. ‘They looked numb.’

‘I thought Lauren would manage better than that,’ Carter said as he pulled up a chair beside Willis. ‘She seemed to crumble, didn’t she? You never know how you’re going to react, I suppose. Must be a living hell.’

‘She blames him. That’s why she can’t bear to look at him,’ said Willis. ‘The press picked up on it.’

‘Samuel is the same age as Archie. I can imagine that Cabrina would be the first to blame me if it happened to us,’ replied Carter.

‘It wouldn’t.’

‘It can happen to anyone.’

‘No, guv, it wouldn’t happen to you. You constantly check on Archie. You would have noticed anyone coming too near him. I feel sorry for Toby – he’s not a natural dad. I don’t think they are a united couple in any way. They should be clinging to one another right now, not pushing one another away. This isn’t just to do with Samuel’s disappearance. I don’t think they have a strong marriage,’ said Willis.