Luke Delaney - The Toy Taker

‘DI Corrigan.’

‘Guv’nor, it’s DS Handy here.’

‘Colin,’ Sean knew the DS, who ran one of the Central Surveillance Teams. ‘By virtue of the fact we’re speaking to each other, I’m assuming you got the McKenzie follow?’

‘We did indeed. I heard you were involved and thought it’d make a change from following suspected terrorists around Ealing all week.’

‘I can imagine. Where are you now?’

‘All plotted up outside Kentish Town nick, waiting for your man to show.’

‘I’ll let the custody sergeant there know to bail him. He should be out a few minutes after that. Did Featherstone get you a picture of my man?’

‘I’m looking at it as we speak.’

‘Good. Let me know if anything happens. Happy hunting.’

‘Thanks,’ Handy answered and hung up just as the lift arrived to carry Sean and Sally to the seventh floor.

‘Everything all right?’ Sally asked as the doors slid shut on them.

‘Yeah, fine. Surveillance is up and running.’

‘That’s something, I suppose.’

Her response drew a displeased look from Sean, who was about to challenge her when the lift jerked to a stop and the doors hissed open, allowing two mid-ranked uniforms to step inside. By the time they reached the seventh floor and stepped from the lift he’d forgotten what she’d said and was back on his mobile.

‘Custody Suite, Kentish Town,’ announced the curt voice on the other end.

‘DI Corrigan speaking, Special Investigations Unit. You have someone in custody for me I need bailing — a Mark McKenzie.’

‘Yeah, I know the one,’ the voice answered. ‘What’s the reason for bailing him, and when and where d’you want him bailed to?’

‘For further inquiries,’ Sean told the voice. ‘You can bail him back to Kentish Town a month from today. Anything else?’

‘No,’ the voice assured him. ‘That’ll be done, no problem. Have a nice day.’

The line went dead just as he and Sally entered their new main office. They walked straight through the mayhem and into the side office Sally shared with Donnelly, who was at his desk talking to Zukov. Sally’s narrow-eyed stare lifted Zukov to his feet behind her desk. Donnelly nodded towards the open door and Zukov took the hint.

‘I’ll leave you to it then,’ he told them as he squeezed past Sally in the doorway and melted into the main office beyond the Perspex.

‘Just back from Kentish Town?’ Donnelly asked.

‘Yeah,’ Sean answered.

‘Just back from Hampstead myself. Been having an interesting little chat with Caroline, the nanny, not to mention Mrs Bridgeman.’

‘Really?’ Sean asked, his tone making him sound less interested than he was. ‘And what did they have to say for themselves?’

‘Which one?’

‘Why don’t we start with the nanny?’

‘Aye, Caroline Reiss. She was most helpful. Let me into a little family secret.’

‘Which is …?’ Sean asked impatiently.

‘Which is that rumour has it in the dim and distant past Mrs Bridgeman had an affair. The previous nanny who worked for them at the time happens to be pals with Caroline, which is how she found out.’

‘How is any of this relevant to George being taken?’ Sally asked. ‘Mrs Bridgeman had an affair — big deal — they seem to have survived it.’

‘Ah, but you haven’t heard the best bit yet,’ Donnelly teased them.

‘Which is?’ Sean asked again.

‘The affair apparently occurred about nine months before wee George was born,’ Donnelly told them casually.

‘Ooops,’ Sally finally said to break the silence. ‘That changes things.’

‘Who did she have the affair with?’ Sean asked.

‘I don’t know,’ Donnelly replied.

‘How come?’

‘Because I didn’t ask.’

‘Why the hell not?’

‘Because she’d had enough.’

‘Fuck’s sake, Dave,’ Sean continued, ‘when did you get all sentimental? Her kid’s missing and if there’s an estranged father in the picture we need to know who the fuck he is.’

‘Slow down, guv’nor. She hasn’t actually admitted to having an affair yet, and she’s adamant wee George is her husband’s child.’

‘Which means nothing,’ Sean reminded him.

‘I know,’ Donnelly agreed, ‘but let’s give her a day or so to think about what all this could mean, then I’ll take another crack at her.’

‘We don’t have that sort of time,’ Sean insisted.

‘This could also mean Mr Bridgeman might be involved in George’s disappearance,’ Sally interrupted. ‘From what we’ve heard so far, he’s pretty cold towards the boy.’

‘Aye,’ Donnelly agreed, ‘and the nanny told me pretty much the same as she told Maggie: he’s always been almost resentful of the boy. Maybe now we know why.’

‘So what are we saying?’ Sean asked. ‘That we may have a long-lost lover who could have taken the boy, or an embittered husband who may have killed the boy and got rid of the body?’

Sally shrugged her shoulders, leaving Donnelly to answer.

‘That’s about the size of it.’

‘OK, fine.’ Sean accepted the possibilities. ‘Keep digging and see what you can find. If Mr Bridgeman took the body away to get rid of it then he probably used his own car, or his wife’s. Have the cars seized and hand them over to Forensics. Make up some bullshit to get them to volunteer handing them over, but if they give you any shit, arrest Mr Bridgeman and seize them anyway. I’d rather you didn’t nick him, but if you have to … I’ll get Featherstone to expand the search teams out to a three-mile radius from the home. I don’t want a single abandoned building left unsearched. I don’t care if it’s a warehouse or a shed. I’ll get Addis to authorize roadblocks and we need to spread the door-to-door further afield. The media appeal Addis is doing later today should make people aware of what we’re up to, so people might start talking to us.’

‘Does this mean we’re concentrating everything on this being somehow linked to Mr Bridgeman or a blast from the past coming back to haunt Mrs Bridgeman?’ Donnelly asked.

‘No,’ Sean answered. ‘We still have McKenzie.’

‘Who we’ve got nothing on,’ Donnelly argued.

‘Not entirely true,’ Sean told him. ‘His modus operandi for previous offences is so close to this one that we could almost charge him on method alone. If I just had a bit more-’

‘But we don’t,’ Donnelly stopped him. ‘We don’t have enough to charge him on method alone, so what do we have?’

‘He just feels right,’ Sean tried to explain.

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning he reminds me of someone from the past who also liked to play dangerous games.’ John Conway’s face drifted through his mind like a ghost.

‘Oh aye, and who would that be?’ Donnelly asked.

‘No one you know. He was the leader of a paedophile ring I investigated once.’

‘And McKenzie reminds you of this guy?’ Donnelly continued.

‘Kind of.’

‘Can you be a bit more specific?’ Donnelly pushed.

‘No,’ Sean admitted. ‘I wish I could, but for some reason the penny’s not dropping. Mckenzie’s motivation — I don’t know — I can feel it, but I just can’t tie it down.’

‘There’s no need to complicate this with paedophile witch-hunts,’ Donnelly insisted. ‘The chances that the boy was snatched in the night by some bogeyman paedophile are a million to one — a million to one,’ he repeated for emphasis. ‘As we all sadly know, the vast majority of child murders are committed by a member of the child’s family. Paedophiles who murder are a very rare breed — you know that. Let’s get on with what’s more likely and concentrate on the family.’