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Authors: Elizabeth Darrell

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BOOK: Scotch Mist
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‘We need to talk, and I'm not doing it on your doorstep,' the visitor said waspishly.
‘No. Sorry, sir, please come in.'
By the dim light from a bedside lamp the large area that was bedroom and lounge-diner did not look suitable for a professional meeting with his boss, yet when Max switched on the main lights it looked even more unappealing. Rumpled bed, whisky bottle and glass beside it, and discarded clothes over a chair suggested dissipation.
After a swift comprehensive glance at it all, Pinkney said, ‘I suggest you stick your head under the tap, then get into some clothes while the kettle boils for the strong coffee we'll both need. This is one hell of a tricky situation and I have to get to the bottom of it.'
Knowing that only something extremely serious would have led this man to call on him at the crack of dawn, Max's spirits sank. Clearly, there had been another incident, with truly dire consequences this time. As he speedily freshened up and donned casual slacks with a woollen shirt, his thoughts raced speculatively and continued to do so as he made a pot of coffee. Carrying a tray through from his kitchen, he suggested that they repair to the shared lounge for their discussion.
‘It's more comfortable there.'
‘This is fine. Sit down, Max,' said Pinkney with new warmth in his tone. ‘We have to sort this out, man, and
fast
.'
Mystified by this chummy change of approach, Max sat at his desk facing his boss, who had settled in one of the easy chairs. What on earth was this all about?
Ignoring the mug of coffee beside him, the senior man embarked on an explanation of his last remark. ‘Tom Black called me at midnight to report that a child named Jenny Greene had disappeared from the garden of her home mid-afternoon. George Maddox set up a major search of the base with volunteers, once it became clear she had not simply wandered off but had been snatched.'
Alarmed, Max said, ‘Jenny has a serious problem needing medical advice.'
‘She was found asleep, wrapped in rugs, in the sports stadium at twenty-three fifteen,' Pinkney continued heavily. ‘Unable to contact you, Tom called in the MO. and a woman from the Joint Response Team. Captain Goodey found no evidence of physical or sexual abuse, and Sergeant Kinross asked the bewildered child a few questions before a full session today.'
Pinkney frowned at Max. ‘Jenny claims the man she went off with – apparently willingly – was
you
, and Mrs Greene stated that you've shown marked interest in her daughter on several occasions.'
‘
What
?'
‘You were seen entering the base yesterday morning, but there was no sighting of your car leaving. Your mobile was switched off – still is, I checked – and your home number was set on voicemail. Max, unless you can provide me with proof of your whereabouts between fifteen hundred and midnight, I'm afraid you could be facing a charge of abducting and holding a child captive for eight hours.'
ELEVEN
‘
C
CTV at Headquarters will show the time I left.'
Keith Pinkney nodded. ‘Tom guessed you'd been in your office and checked the cameras. You arrived at ten past eleven and departed at fourteen thirty-five. That doesn't prove you left the base and, unfortunately, the timing allows for you to have driven to the Greenes' quarter and taken the girl.'
Still feeling much as he had on being brought down in a rugby tackle, Max said, ‘You know how it is on Sundays. The gate guards check anyone entering, but tend just to wave them out. There were four vehicles ahead of mine. Lads going out on the razzle in town, and two more coming up fast behind me. Surely someone witnessed my departure.'
The senior man shook his head gently. ‘We need to keep this in the family. Once we start asking for witnesses it becomes an official enquiry, you know that. Now, you can't prove you were walking in the hills, but how about the inn where you dined? You said you'd eaten there on previous occasions.'
‘Not often enough to be known by the staff, and you've just said we don't want to make it official.'
‘It would be for my own benefit.'
Max stared at him in disbelief. ‘You don't think I did take her?'
‘Not for a moment, but I'd like something concrete to back my defence if it should grow out of hand.'
‘It won't. It can't,' he protested. ‘I worked in my office preparing for a possible meeting later in the day, but the GC's adjutant called to say it wouldn't be convened until this morning. That was around fourteen fifteen – you can check with him – so I decided to walk in the hills while I mentally reviewed witness statements I'd studied, hoping for a clue that would suggest a line of enquiry we badly need. I ate at a table practically hidden from other diners by a branched stand bulging with topcoats. I then drove home, arriving here soon after twenty-three hundred.'
As he said that, Max realized why Clare's car had been missing. Not a late-night date with MacPherson. She had been looking for signs of abuse in a child who claimed he had abducted her. Would Clare believe that of him?
‘But you can't prove any of that,' prompted Pinkney breaking into his thoughts.
‘No.' He frowned. ‘You've had my reports on the serious incidents last week. Could this be another attempt to make a statement? You said Jenny had not been harmed, but if he's now targeting children we need to identify him, and fast.'
‘I can't see any obvious link with the previous attacks.' Pinkney drank his coffee thoughtfully, then topped up his mug and held up the pot. ‘Get some of this inside you. Sharpen your wits.'
The sensation of having had the breath driven out of him remained. Max did as suggested while he tried to come to terms with what was happening. If Jenny continued to insist she had gone off with him he could be in trouble. Crimes against children were viewed with abhorrence by any police force, and Max knew George Maddox was particularly intense on the subject. As was Tom, the father of three girls. Did
he
believe Jenny's claim?
As he drank the strong coffee Max studied his inquisitor, a man he had known for some years but as his immediate boss for only two. Tall, thin, greying at the temples and with a neat brown moustache, Keith Pinkney had spoken of keeping it in the family, by which he meant the Corps. He surely would, to the best of his ability, but without an alibi Max knew his defence was shaky.
‘So, let's get to the nitty-gritty,' Pinkney said briskly. ‘Why was your mobile switched off yesterday? Isn't that unusual?'
‘I wanted to think without any interruptions. Major Crawford was threatening to call in the ATS. He even ordered me to relinquish the case; maintained SIB wasn't equipped to handle it. I need to persuade Colonel Trelawney that we're making headway. Hence why I was reviewing witness statements in my office. I feel it's imperative to retain control of something that is
not
linked with terrorist activity. Tom Black is perfectly capable of dealing with any problem without my advice or intervention. As he did, apparently.'
‘Mmm, yes. And I have to tell you your entire team is behind you.'
Max sighed. ‘I'd be a poor kind of boss if it wasn't.'
‘Agreed. You've been very successful over the past two years. That's why we have to sort this before it goes any further, Now, why did Mrs Greene say you showed marked interest in her daughter?'
Max explained how Jenny had taken a fancy to him when he called to reveal that Eva McTavish had died, and she got very excited on seeing him.
‘How have you responded to the little girl's interest?'
For the first time Max was reluctant to answer. He had been charmed by Jenny when she had climbed on his lap and offered him biscuits. He had been alarmed and protective when she fell asleep over her lunch. He had been wistfully delighted when the child had refused to get in the car seat and had yelled his name.
‘She's very . . . engaging.' The silence grew awkward as he realized how Pinkney might interpret that. ‘I haven't children of my own so I'm unused to the way they behave. Jenny is a very outgoing little girl. Any person would have to be flint-hearted to resist her appeal.'
‘I see. Mrs Greene spoke of several occasions. How many times have you been to the house?'
‘Initially, on the morning following the bonfire incident. I was curious about a couple who had made no attempt to meet after an absence of three months. I returned with more questions about them when it transpired the woman had committed suicide that night.' He gave a twisted smile. ‘I'm still curious about the McTavishes.'
‘And that's it?'
‘No, I called on Mrs Greene to tell her I'd spoken to a friend with medical training about Jenny's habit of falling asleep all the time, and she advised getting the child to a doctor.'
‘So you
have
taken quite an interest in Jenny.'
Max rose to that. ‘She fell asleep in my presence with her face in a plate of food. The mother laughed it off, which I considered to be highly irresponsible. Look, sir, I don't have an unhealthy interest in Jenny. My visits to the house were all in the course of an investigation into the death of Eva McTavish, and on that last meeting I discovered Mrs Greene was attempting to destroy evidence pertaining to the suicide. She had also lied to me from the start about the nature of her own relationship with the widower. I pulled her in and questioned her about it, which she strongly resented. If she's fingering me for this . . .'
‘No, Max, Jenny gave your name voluntarily. As I said before, this is a tricky situation which needs to be nipped in the bud.' He got to his feet. ‘I'll have a word with the Garrison Commander about the proposed meeting. Tom Black reckons it's unnecessary, so I can get it delayed. Preferably indefinitely. I'll also speak to Sergeant Kinross before she questions Jenny again, and tell her you were elsewhere checking witness statements at the vital time. She'll get to the truth eventually. I know her well. She's very good with bewildered kids.'
He headed for the hall, Max following. ‘You'll stay here until it's sorted. And switch on your bloody mobile!'
The girls had left to catch the school bus when Tom woke and wandered down to the kitchen. Nora greeted him brightly. ‘Morning, Sleeping Beauty.'
‘I didn't get to bed until three. Again!' he responded sourly. ‘Don't know who you were dreaming of, but you had me in a half nelson before my head hit the pillow.'
‘Mm, I think it was Colin Firth last night.'
‘Huh, that bloody wet shirt!' He became fully aware of her broad smile. ‘Must have been some dream. You're still looking smug.'
She crossed to kiss him. ‘I'm feeling fine. It's stopped.'
‘What has?' he asked, wondering how large a breakfast he had time for. He really should be on base when Sheila Kinross arrived to question that child again.
‘Morning sickness, chump.'
‘Ah, good.'
‘And the girls are talking freely, with the first hint of real excitement about the new Blackie.'
‘Good,' he said again, conscious of just how late it really was. A full English breakfast was right out of the question. ‘Can you do me some poached eggs on toast? I need to get in sharpish, love. Max is caught up in something pretty messy.' He headed for the stairs. ‘I'll fill you in while I eat.'
‘Certainly, oh Master.' Her reply floated to him as he took the stairs two at a time, cursing the fact that he had slept in so long. With plenty of practice at hurried preparations behind him, Tom was ready for work in record time and descended to find a fully prepared grapefruit and eggs ready for poaching, as well as a large cafetière of coffee.
‘You're a marvel,' he said warmly. ‘Colin Firth has no idea what he's missing.'
Between mouthfuls Tom related what had occurred the previous night, and how he had called in Keith Pinkney as the appropriate person to stand behind Max.
‘The Greene woman has it in for him after he grilled her over those vodka bottles, of course, but I don't think she'd go as far as to prompt Jenny to name him out of spite. After all, someone did take the girl and Jean was half-demented until she was found alive and unharmed.'
‘As I would be. And you,' Nora said. ‘Poor woman. But what was the child doing in the sports stadium?'
‘Sleeping. It doesn't make sense to me. What was it all about? The kid was unharmed and wrapped warmly in blankets.' He grimaced. ‘Max will doubtless say it was a statement. Once that bee's in his bonnet it's difficult to shift, yet I can't come up with what else could be behind terrifying a little kid for eight hours, can you?'
‘We don't know the full story. Once Sheila Kinross gets the details from Jenny it'll make more sense. But
was
she terrified? A three-year-old who apparently went willingly with a man she knew, was not harmed, and then left sleeping peacefully in cosy blankets, hasn't gone through a frightening experience to my mind. Aside from being away from her mother, Jenny sounds to me like a child who'd view it as an adventure. Kids can be very trusting, can't they?'
‘Maybe, but my concern is to find who lured the girl away, and why she should say it was Max.'
‘Oh, Tom! You have three daughters and haven't learned what liars three-year-olds can be? Jenny had had an adventure; she was tired and well into her deep night-time sleep when she was woken from it to find what seemed to her to be hundreds of people asking questions. Mummy was there to take her home, so what's all the fuss about? Who has she been with? The first name that comes into her head is Max so she says it, drinks her warm milk and goes happily to bed. She has no idea why people are acting so strangely. She's
three
, Tom. She could just as easily have said she'd gone off with Father Christmas or Postman Pat. Surely the most significant aspect is that whoever did take her meant her no harm. A statement? I'd say it was more likely an attempt to hurt the mother. She's the one who had the terrifying experience.'
BOOK: Scotch Mist
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