her gloved hands in her pockets.
‘Central Café?’
She nodded and hurried to keep up with him. When they reached the café, he pushed the door open to let her enter first. The contrast in temperature made Rhona’s cheeks burn. McNab stopped for a word with Rocco, the proprietor, while she headed for a window table.
The Central Café was one of those places you hoped would be there for ever. Some felt it already had been. McNab remembered it from his childhood, as did people twenty years older. It was one of the old-style cafés, of which there had once been many. No longer an ice-cream parlour, it was now better known for its fish and chips.
Rhona recalled a similar establishment at the top of Byres Road when she’d been a Glasgow University student. The proprietor had made the best Horlicks ever, substantial and creamy enough for a poverty-stricken student to use as a lunch substitute.
McNab arrived with a large mug of black coffee, just the way she liked it. It was at times like this she was reminded just how well he knew her.
‘I saw the bit on the late news. You’re sure there was someone on the road?’ she asked when he’d settled himself opposite.
‘I had a look at the R2S video of the crash location. If there was a man there and he was facing like Claire said, then he was staring back at the wood in the direction of the deposition site.’
‘Really?’
‘I decided that merited trying to find him, if only to eliminate him from the inquiry.’
Rhona told him about the glass fragment. ‘I’m checking out the constituents, but it looks like it might be stained glass.’
‘As in a stained-glass window?’
‘Yes.’
McNab considered this. ‘It’s not much to go on.’
He was right. On its own the glass wasn’t a lot of use, but it might be if they came up with a suspect.
‘I did a trawl of unsolved cases,’ he said. ‘There are twelve missing children during the period we’re focusing on.’ He handed Rhona a printout.
She ran her eye over the pictures.
McNab pointed to a smiling elfin girl. ‘She disappeared from St Pancras station nine years ago. She was with her big sister one minute, gone the next. Only one possible sighting of her later that day with a middle-aged man getting into a red car, no make, no registration number.’
‘I don’t think it’s her.’
McNab waited for an explanation.
‘The skull Emma found didn’t have that overlap on the front teeth.’
‘That simple?’
‘Teeth are unique and last a long time. Obviously we’ll check out the dental records of all the missing kids against the remains, but at a first glance I would say that isn’t our child.’
They sat in silence for a moment.
‘What if the dead child was never reported missing?’ she suggested.
They both knew that was a possibility. For a minor to be registered as missing, a parent or guardian would have to inform the police. Social services weren’t interested in your child unless you were on their radar. Kids joined and left schools in the urban areas with monotonous regularity, especially those with itinerant workers for parents. As for those in the care system, recent high-profile cases showed how easily they could disappear, especially ten years ago.
They both contemplated the thought that the skeletal remains would never be identified and the killer never found.
Rhona broke the silence. ‘I’ve got to head back to the lab.’
‘What about tomorrow?’
‘The funeral’s at eleven.’
McNab’s brow darkened. ‘The meeting with the super is at nine. I’ll call you when it’s over.’
Rhona left him at the table, staring into his coffee. He looked terrible, hollow eyed and haunted. She suspected the disciplinary inquiry wasn’t allowing him much sleep. Whatever the outcome, it didn’t bode well for him. If Bill took the rap, McNab would never forgive himself. If they believed McNab’s story, then he was in trouble. Either way was bad news. They might have caught the
‘Central Café?’
She nodded and hurried to keep up with him. When they reached the café, he pushed the door open to let her enter first. The contrast in temperature made Rhona’s cheeks burn. McNab stopped for a word with Rocco, the proprietor, while she headed for a window table.
The Central Café was one of those places you hoped would be there for ever. Some felt it already had been. McNab remembered it from his childhood, as did people twenty years older. It was one of the old-style cafés, of which there had once been many. No longer an ice-cream parlour, it was now better known for its fish and chips.
Rhona recalled a similar establishment at the top of Byres Road when she’d been a Glasgow University student. The proprietor had made the best Horlicks ever, substantial and creamy enough for a poverty-stricken student to use as a lunch substitute.
McNab arrived with a large mug of black coffee, just the way she liked it. It was at times like this she was reminded just how well he knew her.
‘I saw the bit on the late news. You’re sure there was someone on the road?’ she asked when he’d settled himself opposite.
‘I had a look at the R2S video of the crash location. If there was a man there and he was facing like Claire said, then he was staring back at the wood in the direction of the deposition site.’
‘Really?’
‘I decided that merited trying to find him, if only to eliminate him from the inquiry.’
Rhona told him about the glass fragment. ‘I’m checking out the constituents, but it looks like it might be stained glass.’
‘As in a stained-glass window?’
‘Yes.’
McNab considered this. ‘It’s not much to go on.’
He was right. On its own the glass wasn’t a lot of use, but it might be if they came up with a suspect.
‘I did a trawl of unsolved cases,’ he said. ‘There are twelve missing children during the period we’re focusing on.’ He handed Rhona a printout.
She ran her eye over the pictures.
McNab pointed to a smiling elfin girl. ‘She disappeared from St Pancras station nine years ago. She was with her big sister one minute, gone the next. Only one possible sighting of her later that day with a middle-aged man getting into a red car, no make, no registration number.’
‘I don’t think it’s her.’
McNab waited for an explanation.
‘The skull Emma found didn’t have that overlap on the front teeth.’
‘That simple?’
‘Teeth are unique and last a long time. Obviously we’ll check out the dental records of all the missing kids against the remains, but at a first glance I would say that isn’t our child.’
They sat in silence for a moment.
‘What if the dead child was never reported missing?’ she suggested.
They both knew that was a possibility. For a minor to be registered as missing, a parent or guardian would have to inform the police. Social services weren’t interested in your child unless you were on their radar. Kids joined and left schools in the urban areas with monotonous regularity, especially those with itinerant workers for parents. As for those in the care system, recent high-profile cases showed how easily they could disappear, especially ten years ago.
They both contemplated the thought that the skeletal remains would never be identified and the killer never found.
Rhona broke the silence. ‘I’ve got to head back to the lab.’
‘What about tomorrow?’
‘The funeral’s at eleven.’
McNab’s brow darkened. ‘The meeting with the super is at nine. I’ll call you when it’s over.’
Rhona left him at the table, staring into his coffee. He looked terrible, hollow eyed and haunted. She suspected the disciplinary inquiry wasn’t allowing him much sleep. Whatever the outcome, it didn’t bode well for him. If Bill took the rap, McNab would never forgive himself. If they believed McNab’s story, then he was in trouble. Either way was bad news. They might have caught the
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