beer.
“Got taken into care. She was twelve years old. It changed her totally. She could already look after herself. Well she had to because of Sue’s lifestyle. But you know how it is. She’d entered a system that was full of young kids who were beyond the control of their parents, who were either on bail from court for violence or thieving, or self-harmers, and she became one of them. A real tearaway. She became promiscuous, regularly went shoplifting, got drunk, fought with kids, fought with staff, even fought with the police. Regularly went missing from home, and so when she went missing in the early nineties no real effort went into looking for her until she had been gone at least ten days. Sue contacted me, and as a favour to her and for old time’s sake I put in a fair bit of effort in my own time to try and track her down. But I hit a brick wall. I did have some concerns but the gaffers wouldn’t hear any of it. They just thought she’d buggered off to one of the big cities and was working as a teenage prostitute. For years Sue tried to get the police, and the papers interested, but because of her history got nowhere.”
“A sad story Barry,” sighed Hunter.
“Very,” agreed Barry. “When you see Sue tomorrow, a little bit of warning, she’ll more than likely be in drink. I contacted you, Hunter because I can trust you to deal with her sympathetically. But I also have to tell you that during the initial enquiries when Carol was first reported missing, Sue told a few lies and I covered for her.”
- ooOoo –
CHAPTER EIGHT
DAY SIXTEEN: 21 st July.
Before leaving for work that morning, nursing a thumping head, Hunter had telephoned Grace Marshall and given her the ‘heads-up’ of his meeting with Barry Newstead. When he gingerly sauntered into the MIT office Grace was already in, searching through a huge pile of missing-from-home files. He wasn’t surprised, she had already told him on the phone that she and Mike Sampson had decided that they could not spend another day in that dump of a store room and had got the van driver to transfer all the remaining folders to the office.
He found her beside her desk, sat crossed-legged on the floor, amongst foxed and yellowing folders, sliding report after report into separate piles.
Hunter eyed her carefully. He had known Grace a long time. In fact they had both joined the job on the same day and had trained together as new recruits. They had lost touch for a short time because she had chosen to take two career breaks to be with her two daughters’ during their pre-school years.
He had first been blessed with working alongside Grace when they had done their CID aide-ship together - she had worked hers at District CID, whilst he had done his at the smaller Barnwell CID department - they had been put together on a rape enquiry. The victim had been a woman with a history of sexual activity with many men in the area, and some of the older detectives on the case, had viewed the complaint as spurious. Yet Hunter had watched Grace approach it with such objectivity. At first, because he had wanted to impress the gaffer, he had tried to compete against her, but she had taught him a valuable lesson. A lesson he would never forget. She matched him for tenacity, flair, and enthusiasm and it had been she who had finally caught the perpetrator. The twenty-one year old offender had initially been a witness in the investigation. He had been drinking in the same pub as the victim. When she had left in a drunken state he had told detectives he had gone home in the opposite direction and used his mother to alibi him. Grace had been the one who had the ‘feeling’ about him, and she shared her cops’ instinct with Hunter. Between them they broke his mother down and she arrested the young man for rape. He was given an eight year sentence.
Since then, he had occasionally enquired of her, and when he had become a DS, covertly monitored her
“Got taken into care. She was twelve years old. It changed her totally. She could already look after herself. Well she had to because of Sue’s lifestyle. But you know how it is. She’d entered a system that was full of young kids who were beyond the control of their parents, who were either on bail from court for violence or thieving, or self-harmers, and she became one of them. A real tearaway. She became promiscuous, regularly went shoplifting, got drunk, fought with kids, fought with staff, even fought with the police. Regularly went missing from home, and so when she went missing in the early nineties no real effort went into looking for her until she had been gone at least ten days. Sue contacted me, and as a favour to her and for old time’s sake I put in a fair bit of effort in my own time to try and track her down. But I hit a brick wall. I did have some concerns but the gaffers wouldn’t hear any of it. They just thought she’d buggered off to one of the big cities and was working as a teenage prostitute. For years Sue tried to get the police, and the papers interested, but because of her history got nowhere.”
“A sad story Barry,” sighed Hunter.
“Very,” agreed Barry. “When you see Sue tomorrow, a little bit of warning, she’ll more than likely be in drink. I contacted you, Hunter because I can trust you to deal with her sympathetically. But I also have to tell you that during the initial enquiries when Carol was first reported missing, Sue told a few lies and I covered for her.”
- ooOoo –
CHAPTER EIGHT
DAY SIXTEEN: 21 st July.
Before leaving for work that morning, nursing a thumping head, Hunter had telephoned Grace Marshall and given her the ‘heads-up’ of his meeting with Barry Newstead. When he gingerly sauntered into the MIT office Grace was already in, searching through a huge pile of missing-from-home files. He wasn’t surprised, she had already told him on the phone that she and Mike Sampson had decided that they could not spend another day in that dump of a store room and had got the van driver to transfer all the remaining folders to the office.
He found her beside her desk, sat crossed-legged on the floor, amongst foxed and yellowing folders, sliding report after report into separate piles.
Hunter eyed her carefully. He had known Grace a long time. In fact they had both joined the job on the same day and had trained together as new recruits. They had lost touch for a short time because she had chosen to take two career breaks to be with her two daughters’ during their pre-school years.
He had first been blessed with working alongside Grace when they had done their CID aide-ship together - she had worked hers at District CID, whilst he had done his at the smaller Barnwell CID department - they had been put together on a rape enquiry. The victim had been a woman with a history of sexual activity with many men in the area, and some of the older detectives on the case, had viewed the complaint as spurious. Yet Hunter had watched Grace approach it with such objectivity. At first, because he had wanted to impress the gaffer, he had tried to compete against her, but she had taught him a valuable lesson. A lesson he would never forget. She matched him for tenacity, flair, and enthusiasm and it had been she who had finally caught the perpetrator. The twenty-one year old offender had initially been a witness in the investigation. He had been drinking in the same pub as the victim. When she had left in a drunken state he had told detectives he had gone home in the opposite direction and used his mother to alibi him. Grace had been the one who had the ‘feeling’ about him, and she shared her cops’ instinct with Hunter. Between them they broke his mother down and she arrested the young man for rape. He was given an eight year sentence.
Since then, he had occasionally enquired of her, and when he had become a DS, covertly monitored her
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