Nightshade: The Fourth Jack Nightingale Supernatural Thriller by Stephen Leather Page B
Authors: Stephen Leather
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lad.’
‘They say their neighbours turned up with a kid a couple of days ago. They didn’t get a good look but they’re pretty sure it was a young girl.’
‘A couple of days ago?’ It was Tuesday morning. Bella Harper had been snatched on Friday.
‘Sorry, sir. On Friday.’
‘They’ve seen the appeal pictures?’
‘They know what Bella looks like, but they say the girl taken into the house was being carried so they didn’t get a good look. They’ve not seen the girl since, so they think she might be in the house.’
‘Who lives there?’
‘According to the electoral roll a guy called Eric Lucas. The caller doesn’t know anything about them.’
‘Checked the Sex Offenders Register?’
Fisher nodded. ‘No Eric Lucas.’
The superintendent rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The unit was getting several hundred calls a day, and the bulk of them were false sightings of Bella Harper. ‘What makes you think this is the real thing?’
‘The timing, sir.’ Fisher looked at his notebook. ‘Mrs Pullman, she’s the lady who rang in, said she’s pretty sure she saw the girl at three o’clock in the afternoon on Saturday. She went missing at just before two-thirty.’
‘And this Eric Lucas doesn’t have kids?’
‘There’s no wife on the electoral roll and Mrs Pullman says she’s never seen a child there before, there are no toys in the garden.’
‘Today’s a school day. She’s sure the kid didn’t leave for school today?’
‘I asked that. Mrs Pullman was in her front garden all morning. She’s not a great sleeper, she said, and she was doing some weeding. No one has come in or gone out.’
‘So this Eric Lucas doesn’t work?’
‘That’s another thing that made me think she might have something. He usually leaves for work at seven-thirty in the morning. Today his car is still in the drive.’
‘Car? So no white van?’
Fisher shook his head. ‘Blue Mondeo,’ he said.
‘What does he do?’
‘Mrs Pullman doesn’t know.’
‘Do they know who the woman is? Girlfriend? Sister?’
‘She’s been living there for the past year or so. But they keep themselves to themselves.’ He tapped his notebook against his leg. ‘Mrs Pullman isn’t a timewaster. She kept saying she hoped she wasn’t being a bother, but she had seen the TV appeals and she felt she had to let us know what she’d seen. Do you think I should go and check the Lucas house?’
The superintendent looked at his watch. It was just after mid-day.
‘I keep getting this tingle on the back of my neck,’ said Fisher. ‘I know that sounds crazy.’
‘It doesn’t sound crazy at all,’ said the superintendent. ‘A copper’s hunch has helped me out more times than I can remember. You’re right, the timing is bang on and the car still being there is a red flag. Get Dave Hopkins in here and we’ll get something sorted.’
25
J enny McLean frowned when she opened the door and found Nightingale studying a large whiteboard on which he’d stuck photographs cut from the Sunday papers. She looked at her watch. It was ten to nine. ‘Early bird catching the worm?’ she said as she took off her coat.
‘Up with the lark indeed,’ said Nightingale. ‘Late rising is for the birds. Are we about done with the ornithological references?’
‘I just mean it’s not like you to beat me into the office.’ She walked over to him and looked at the information on the whiteboard. He’d drawn a map of the school and marked where the children had been killed with black crosses. He’d drawn red lines from the crosses to the relevant photographs. Eight of the crosses were of children. The ninth, in the playground, had a red line linking it to a balding man in his forties.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Trying to work out why McBride did what he did.’
‘He killed kids, we know that.’
‘Yeah, but if he just wanted to kill kids he could have just walked into one classroom and started blasting away. He had plenty of
‘They say their neighbours turned up with a kid a couple of days ago. They didn’t get a good look but they’re pretty sure it was a young girl.’
‘A couple of days ago?’ It was Tuesday morning. Bella Harper had been snatched on Friday.
‘Sorry, sir. On Friday.’
‘They’ve seen the appeal pictures?’
‘They know what Bella looks like, but they say the girl taken into the house was being carried so they didn’t get a good look. They’ve not seen the girl since, so they think she might be in the house.’
‘Who lives there?’
‘According to the electoral roll a guy called Eric Lucas. The caller doesn’t know anything about them.’
‘Checked the Sex Offenders Register?’
Fisher nodded. ‘No Eric Lucas.’
The superintendent rubbed his chin thoughtfully. The unit was getting several hundred calls a day, and the bulk of them were false sightings of Bella Harper. ‘What makes you think this is the real thing?’
‘The timing, sir.’ Fisher looked at his notebook. ‘Mrs Pullman, she’s the lady who rang in, said she’s pretty sure she saw the girl at three o’clock in the afternoon on Saturday. She went missing at just before two-thirty.’
‘And this Eric Lucas doesn’t have kids?’
‘There’s no wife on the electoral roll and Mrs Pullman says she’s never seen a child there before, there are no toys in the garden.’
‘Today’s a school day. She’s sure the kid didn’t leave for school today?’
‘I asked that. Mrs Pullman was in her front garden all morning. She’s not a great sleeper, she said, and she was doing some weeding. No one has come in or gone out.’
‘So this Eric Lucas doesn’t work?’
‘That’s another thing that made me think she might have something. He usually leaves for work at seven-thirty in the morning. Today his car is still in the drive.’
‘Car? So no white van?’
Fisher shook his head. ‘Blue Mondeo,’ he said.
‘What does he do?’
‘Mrs Pullman doesn’t know.’
‘Do they know who the woman is? Girlfriend? Sister?’
‘She’s been living there for the past year or so. But they keep themselves to themselves.’ He tapped his notebook against his leg. ‘Mrs Pullman isn’t a timewaster. She kept saying she hoped she wasn’t being a bother, but she had seen the TV appeals and she felt she had to let us know what she’d seen. Do you think I should go and check the Lucas house?’
The superintendent looked at his watch. It was just after mid-day.
‘I keep getting this tingle on the back of my neck,’ said Fisher. ‘I know that sounds crazy.’
‘It doesn’t sound crazy at all,’ said the superintendent. ‘A copper’s hunch has helped me out more times than I can remember. You’re right, the timing is bang on and the car still being there is a red flag. Get Dave Hopkins in here and we’ll get something sorted.’
25
J enny McLean frowned when she opened the door and found Nightingale studying a large whiteboard on which he’d stuck photographs cut from the Sunday papers. She looked at her watch. It was ten to nine. ‘Early bird catching the worm?’ she said as she took off her coat.
‘Up with the lark indeed,’ said Nightingale. ‘Late rising is for the birds. Are we about done with the ornithological references?’
‘I just mean it’s not like you to beat me into the office.’ She walked over to him and looked at the information on the whiteboard. He’d drawn a map of the school and marked where the children had been killed with black crosses. He’d drawn red lines from the crosses to the relevant photographs. Eight of the crosses were of children. The ninth, in the playground, had a red line linking it to a balding man in his forties.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Trying to work out why McBride did what he did.’
‘He killed kids, we know that.’
‘Yeah, but if he just wanted to kill kids he could have just walked into one classroom and started blasting away. He had plenty of
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