Luke Delaney - The Toy Taker

‘Fuck me,’ DC Jesson added in his Scouse accent. ‘What are we waiting for? Let’s just charge him now.’

‘I agree,’ Sean told the baying room, ‘he’s an outstanding suspect, but we need to investigate this properly and thoroughly. The boy’s still missing and McKenzie isn’t talking.’

‘Doesn’t sound like we need him to talk to prove he’s guilty,’ Jesson continued. ‘We’ve probably got enough to do him on method alone.’

‘Perhaps,’ Sean told them, ‘but I need him to talk if we’re to find the boy quickly. So far he hasn’t admitted taking the boy, but he hasn’t denied it either.’

‘What does that mean?’ Cahill asked.

‘Means he likes playing games,’ Sean answered. ‘Maybe this is his play at being famous. You can never tell with someone like McKenzie.’

‘Or maybe it’s not him at all?’ Donnelly dropped a fly in the ointment, silencing the room.

‘Got something you want to share?’ Sean asked, barely hiding his irritation.

‘Had an interesting chat with the Bridgemans’ neighbours last night,’ he explained. ‘The Beiersdorfs at number five and Philippa Howells at number nine.’

‘Go on,’ Sean encouraged, trying to get Donnelly’s sideshow over as quickly as he could.

‘Both say the same thing: the Bridgemans have kept themselves to themselves since moving in and don’t appear to want to socialize. Also, both sets of neighbours have heard plenty of raised voices coming from the Bridgemans’ house. My pal Philippa told me it was Mr Bridgeman who seemed to do most of the shouting. She also noticed that although he rarely scolded his daughter, he seemed cold towards the boy.’

‘But not Mrs Bridgeman?’ Jesson asked.

‘According to Philippa, she was fine towards the boy.’

‘So there’s something going on between the boy and the father?’ Cahill joined in.

‘The boy’s only four,’ Sean reminded them. ‘I know as well as anyone that four-year-olds can be a pain in the backside, but you don’t start hating your own children because of it.’ DC Maggie O’Neil tentatively raised her arm. ‘What is it, Maggie?’

‘I was going to raise it in private with you, guv’nor, but seems the cat’s out the bag.’

‘Go on.’

‘Last night, when I was with the family, I picked up on the hostility between George’s parents. A lot of whispered conversations they certainly didn’t want me to hear.’

‘It’s early days,’ Sean warned them. ‘It may turn out their marriage was on the slippery slope even before George was taken. You don’t need me to remind you that families don’t always stick together in adversity.’

‘True,’ Maggie agreed, ‘but when I spoke to the nanny she said that Mrs Bridgeman was devastated by George’s disappearance, but that Mr Bridgeman was just angry.’

‘Did she say who with?’ Sean asked, unable to so easily dismiss the Bridgemans as suspects in his own mind now, no matter how much he wanted McKenzie to be guilty.

‘No,’ Maggie answered. ‘Just that he was angry.’

‘Hidey-fucking-hi,’ Donnelly interrupted. ‘Let’s get ’em in, both of them, Mr and Mrs.’

‘We haven’t got enough to arrest them yet,’ Sean warned him off. ‘So Mr Bridgeman’s a bad-tempered bastard — so what?’

‘Not arrest them,’ Donnelly suggested. ‘Get them in as primary witnesses, but interview them on tape separately under caution — shit them up a bit. Divide and conquer them before they pull together for self-preservation and concoct a pack of well-ordered lies.’

‘Not yet,’ Sean insisted. ‘This isn’t the time to go in like a bull in a china shop. If we do that and it turns out you’re wrong, we’ll be slaughtered. Let’s not show them our hand just yet. Besides, we need to concentrate on McKenzie first. It won’t look good if we’re treating the parents as suspects while we’re still interrogating McKenzie. Let’s get him sorted first, one way or the other, then we can think about the Bridgemans.’

‘By then it might be too late,’ Donnelly told him.

‘It might already be too late,’ Sean countered, and regretted it. ‘Listen, we have two very different but promising lines of inquiry. McKenzie remains our prime suspect until I say different. As for the Bridgemans, find out whatever you can, but do it subtly and without dragging them in for interview, understand?’

‘Fair enough,’ Donnelly agreed, taking what Sean said as a green light to go after the parents.

‘Sally and I will be re-interviewing McKenzie again soon and will make a further decision after that, but for now do the jobs you’re given — and for Christ’s sake, try and get this bloody office sorted.’

Detective Chief Superintendent Featherstone was just about to devour a large cooked breakfast he’d carried down to his office from the canteen when his desk phone rang, drawing a string of obscenities from his still empty mouth. He answered the phone as he continued to watch his egg yolks solidify.

‘Alan — Assistant Commissioner Addis here.’ Featherstone’s appetite faded quickly. ‘I was wondering whether you had any updates for me on the Bridgeman case? I would have popped down and spoken to DI Corrigan myself, but I’m away from the Yard this morning promoting the new Safer Neighbourhoods Scheme in Lambeth, of all places.’

‘I understand things are progressing well enough,’ Featherstone tried to buy some time and space. ‘No stone’s being left unturned.’

‘What about this suspect you told me about? He sounded very promising.’

‘Somebody McKenzie,’ Featherstone recalled. ‘He’s still in custody over at Kentish Town.’

‘Has he been interviewed yet?’

‘I’m not entirely sure, sir. I’ll be getting an update this morning,’ Featherstone answered, making it up as he went along.

‘I need you closer to this, Alan,’ Addis warned him. ‘We can’t afford any more bad press. We need the boy found as a matter of urgency. If he’s already dead then we need someone charged with his murder without delay or we’ll have a panic on our hands. A child murderer at large does not read well.’

‘Then perhaps we should keep the press out of it for a while longer,’ Featherstone tried to stall him, ‘until we have a positive result lined up?’

‘No, we can’t afford to do that. If they get wind of it from another source before we inform them there’ll be hell to pay and I’ll never get them back on side. I’ve made my decision — arrange a press conference for this evening. It’s time to get the media and public involved. I’ll do the briefing myself. Let me know when you’ve sorted it out,’ Addis ordered and hung up, leaving Featherstone holding an empty phone still pressed to his ear as he stared at his congealing breakfast.

Finally he hung up and pushed the plate as far away as he could across his desk, his already significant regrets at allowing himself to become involved with Assistant Commissioner Addis growing by the second.

‘The time is approximately ten a.m.,’ Sean announced for the tape, ‘and this is a continuation of the first interview of Mark McKenzie who’s being questioned regarding the disappearance of a four-year-old boy — George Bridgeman. Do you understand why you’re here?’ Sean asked.

‘No comment.’

‘I’m just trying to clarify that you understand why you’re here, Mark.’

‘I said no comment.’

‘Fine. That’s your right. Can you tell me where you were Monday night to Tuesday morning of this week?’

‘No comment.’

‘The boy having been taken from his home sometime during that time.’

‘No comment.’

‘If you have an alibi that can place you somewhere else then now’s a good time to tell me and save a lot of people a lot of trouble and time — including yourself.’