away?’
‘Possible.’
‘How?’
‘A product of the planning and surveillance,’ said Brook.
‘Or maybe my access to her details means I know it’s a reading week and she’s going to Belfast the next day. Someone at the university, like Stiles.’
‘Not everybody heads home during a reading week,’ said Brook. ‘And Stiles was at the conference in Northampton that night. The hotel confirmed it.’
‘I don’t care,’ said Noble. ‘Until I get confirmation from someone who actually saw him there, I’m keeping him in the frame. What’s to say he didn’t drive up for the night to snatch Caitlin and still be back at the hotel for breakfast?’
‘John, he’s got no history and he’s not strong enough to overcome someone as young and healthy as Caitlin.’
‘He wouldn’t have been alone,’ said Noble. ‘And even if he was in Northampton, he could still be involved, maybe in the background, a sleeping partner. He has access to Caitlin and Daniela’s details, as well as drugs in case they need to be controlled.’
‘So now there are three of them.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well if we’re ignoring alibis, Davison is more likely to know her travel plans. Caitlin booked her train while they were still going out together.’
‘That’s right,’ said Noble, his face lighting up.
‘But only one person would be one hundred per cent sure of her plans, and that’s Laurie. No, I don’t like it either, John. Or the notion of a sleeping partner. You can explain Daniela and Caitlin with it, but how do you link in the other girls?’
‘Maybe Daniela and Caitlin are a separate case.’
‘No, there has to be a common connection – beyond all six being single white females from overseas.’
‘You forgot young and sexually attractive.’
‘And if we’re using Caitlin as a template, sexually active too,’ added Brook.
‘So we’re back to rape again.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ said Brook. ‘But temptation is the oldest sin. You covet what you can’t have.’
‘Which would tend to rule out Davison,’ said Noble. He tapped his watch.
‘His alibi already did that,’ said Brook. ‘And you’re right. Davison’s not coming.’
‘Good.’ Noble rubbed his temple. ‘My brain hurts. Is it always this thankless?’
‘Cold-case work? Try doing it alone in a room without windows. This isn’t the best incident room, but at least it has natural light.’
‘It’s tiny,’ said Noble, looking around. ‘I booked it because no one else wanted it and we can shut it down quickly if . . .’ He declined to finish the sentence.
‘If a proper case crops up,’ finished Brook.
Before Noble could prepare an objection, Duty Sergeant Gordon Grey, his uniform straining at the waist, knocked and entered, looking past Brook as though he didn’t exist. ‘Sergeant Noble. Got a Mr Davison here to see you.’
‘Show him in,’ said Brook, glancing at Noble.
Grey was taken aback. ‘I’ve got interview rooms free.’
‘You heard the man, Sergeant,’ shouted a voice from the corridor. A burly figure pushed past Grey.
‘Councillor Davison,’ said Noble, as a large, red-faced man strode in, his son slipstreaming behind him. He stood in a limp attempt to conceal the display boards.
‘Inspector Brook,’ boomed Davison Senior. ‘What’re you playing at? My lad’s not going to be treated like a bloody criminal.’
‘Councillor,’ said Brook, standing.
‘Oh, you remember me, do you?’ blustered Davison, Roland smirking behind his back. ‘ Councillor Davison – member of the Police Liaison Committee and generous supporter of police charities.’
‘And your son – the future barista,’ said Brook. Roland’s expression darkened and he opened his mouth to complain.
‘And don’t you forget it,’ boomed Councillor Davison, jabbing a finger. ‘So what do you want to talk to him about now?’
Brook gestured feebly towards the corridor. ‘Sir, you can’t be in here. This is an
‘Possible.’
‘How?’
‘A product of the planning and surveillance,’ said Brook.
‘Or maybe my access to her details means I know it’s a reading week and she’s going to Belfast the next day. Someone at the university, like Stiles.’
‘Not everybody heads home during a reading week,’ said Brook. ‘And Stiles was at the conference in Northampton that night. The hotel confirmed it.’
‘I don’t care,’ said Noble. ‘Until I get confirmation from someone who actually saw him there, I’m keeping him in the frame. What’s to say he didn’t drive up for the night to snatch Caitlin and still be back at the hotel for breakfast?’
‘John, he’s got no history and he’s not strong enough to overcome someone as young and healthy as Caitlin.’
‘He wouldn’t have been alone,’ said Noble. ‘And even if he was in Northampton, he could still be involved, maybe in the background, a sleeping partner. He has access to Caitlin and Daniela’s details, as well as drugs in case they need to be controlled.’
‘So now there are three of them.’
‘Why not?’
‘Well if we’re ignoring alibis, Davison is more likely to know her travel plans. Caitlin booked her train while they were still going out together.’
‘That’s right,’ said Noble, his face lighting up.
‘But only one person would be one hundred per cent sure of her plans, and that’s Laurie. No, I don’t like it either, John. Or the notion of a sleeping partner. You can explain Daniela and Caitlin with it, but how do you link in the other girls?’
‘Maybe Daniela and Caitlin are a separate case.’
‘No, there has to be a common connection – beyond all six being single white females from overseas.’
‘You forgot young and sexually attractive.’
‘And if we’re using Caitlin as a template, sexually active too,’ added Brook.
‘So we’re back to rape again.’
‘I didn’t say that,’ said Brook. ‘But temptation is the oldest sin. You covet what you can’t have.’
‘Which would tend to rule out Davison,’ said Noble. He tapped his watch.
‘His alibi already did that,’ said Brook. ‘And you’re right. Davison’s not coming.’
‘Good.’ Noble rubbed his temple. ‘My brain hurts. Is it always this thankless?’
‘Cold-case work? Try doing it alone in a room without windows. This isn’t the best incident room, but at least it has natural light.’
‘It’s tiny,’ said Noble, looking around. ‘I booked it because no one else wanted it and we can shut it down quickly if . . .’ He declined to finish the sentence.
‘If a proper case crops up,’ finished Brook.
Before Noble could prepare an objection, Duty Sergeant Gordon Grey, his uniform straining at the waist, knocked and entered, looking past Brook as though he didn’t exist. ‘Sergeant Noble. Got a Mr Davison here to see you.’
‘Show him in,’ said Brook, glancing at Noble.
Grey was taken aback. ‘I’ve got interview rooms free.’
‘You heard the man, Sergeant,’ shouted a voice from the corridor. A burly figure pushed past Grey.
‘Councillor Davison,’ said Noble, as a large, red-faced man strode in, his son slipstreaming behind him. He stood in a limp attempt to conceal the display boards.
‘Inspector Brook,’ boomed Davison Senior. ‘What’re you playing at? My lad’s not going to be treated like a bloody criminal.’
‘Councillor,’ said Brook, standing.
‘Oh, you remember me, do you?’ blustered Davison, Roland smirking behind his back. ‘ Councillor Davison – member of the Police Liaison Committee and generous supporter of police charities.’
‘And your son – the future barista,’ said Brook. Roland’s expression darkened and he opened his mouth to complain.
‘And don’t you forget it,’ boomed Councillor Davison, jabbing a finger. ‘So what do you want to talk to him about now?’
Brook gestured feebly towards the corridor. ‘Sir, you can’t be in here. This is an
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