James Patterson - Private London

Ryan stood with his back to them, talking to Laura Skelton for a few moments, then headed to the side of the bar, lifting a flap to swap places with Carol who sketched a wave to Lucy as she left. ‘Good luck,’ she said as she passed.

Lucy nodded back, pretending to be a little flustered and letting the barman catch it. All good cover, she thought. Besides, if the barman was innocent, and single…

Suzy flicked her a half-smile, snapping her out of her reverie. ‘Be interesting to hear what he said to her.’

Lucy nodded to the security camera. ‘Be on tape. Can’t see him incriminating himself if he is involved, though.’

Ryan Williams came across at that moment and gave them a smile of his own, but an almost apologetic one. ‘I don’t believe I have seen you ladies here before,’ he said.

‘No,’ said Suzy, giving it the full tilt with her chin. ‘We’re virgins.’

‘To the bar, she means,’ added Lucy.

‘Can I see your NUS cards then, please?’ he said.

‘What kind of girls do you think we are?’ said Suzy in mock outrage. ‘I’ve never had an STD in my life.’

The barman didn’t smile. He’d heard it plenty of times before. ‘I said NUS. No ID and I will have to ask you to leave, I’m afraid. Particularly after what happened last night.’

‘It’s not safe, you mean?’ asked Lucy, giving a good impression of a nervous woman.

‘No, you’re perfectly safe. We’ve just had a lot of journalists trying to blag their way on campus today. It’s been all over the news.’

Suzy laughed. ‘Do we look like journalists?’ She held up her hand before Ryan could reply. ‘It’s okay, sheriff, you can keep your weapon holstered for now.’

She pulled out an NUS card and held it up as Lucy rummaged in her bag for hers. It had taken them less than five minutes to get them mocked-up back at the office earlier. ‘See?’ she said. ‘We’re both pickers of apples from the tree of wisdom.’

Ryan looked at the cards briefly and nodded. ‘Sorry. I have to ask.’

Suzy nodded too, all serious now. ‘Absolutely. And I’m glad you did. God knows, we all have to look out for each other. Especially now,’ she added as Laura Skelton approached the bar.

‘Can I just get a coffee, please, Ryan? Cappuccino,’ she said.

‘It’s on the house.’ The barman beamed at her and hurried off to the other end of the bar where an espresso machine was set back on the counter.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Suzy said to Laura.

‘For what?’

‘You probably heard us talking. Saying we all had to look out for each other. I didn’t mean to be insensitive.’

‘It’s okay,’ said Laura. ‘I just wish I could have looked out for them better.’ She ran a hand reflexively along her bandaged arm.

‘Do the police know any more?’ asked Lucy.

Laura shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe what happened. Why take Hannah, why leave us behind? God, they could have killed Chloe.’ Her eyes welled. ‘What are they going to do to Hannah?’

Suzy stroked her arm. ‘Hey, it’s going to be all right. I am sure she is going to be fine.’

‘Did you know her?’

Suzy shook her head.

‘So how do you know that she’s going to be fine?’ Laura snapped.

‘If she’s been kidnapped it wouldn’t make sense to harm her.’

‘But she’s not rich. Her father has some money, but he’s just a car dealer back in San Diego. He’s not a multimillionaire or anything.’

Ryan came back with the coffee and Laura nodded at him, not really registering his presence.

‘We were just about to have lunch,’ said Lucy. ‘Why don’t you join us? I’m Lucy by the way.’

‘Thanks.’

‘And I’m Suzy Malone,’ said Suzy, smiling as she held out her hand. Laura took it and held on for a while, and when Suzy looked in her eyes there was a definite charge.

Suzy let Laura’s hand go. She was working. Never mix business with pleasure. Wasn’t that the golden rule?

Alison Chambers strode forcefully across the car park towards her parked car.

There was very little swish to her hips this time, although her hair tossed a little angrily from side to side. I couldn’t help watching her and grinned a little guiltily as Kirsty came out through the entrance doors and up to me.

‘Enjoying the view?’ she said curtly.

I was standing in the car park of Paddington Green police station, having had my belt and shoelaces returned to me and been released some ten minutes earlier.

‘Isn’t it time you let it go?’ I asked.

‘More to the point, isn’t it time you did?’ she snapped back.

I sighed. I had no burning desire to have another ride on that particular carousel. ‘Thanks,’ I said simply, instead of pushing it.

‘Thanks for what?’

‘For not wanting to arrest me.’

‘I’d watch your back if I were you. DSI Harrington is spitting feathers in there.’

‘Sorry to ruin his day.’

‘I mean it, Dan. He’s got a serious hard-on for you.’

‘All I care about is finding that little girl.’

Even though I had seen the recent pictures of Hannah and the footage of her dressed up like some kind of sick Bettie Page caricature, I still thought of her as the young girl who had discussed F. Scott Fitzgerald with me on that flight not so very long ago.

‘I know you do.’

I looked across at my ex-wife. For a moment there I thought I had detected a little tenderness in her voice.

Of course I had. Kirsty didn’t hate the world. She just hated me. She wanted Hannah Shapiro found every bit as much as I did. Policing wasn’t just a job to her. It was her vocation. Her life. I felt the familiar stab of guilt I always felt when she showed her softer side.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘If I could go back in time.’

‘It’s not your fault, Dan. You didn’t kidnap the girl, did you?’

‘I wasn’t talking about that…’

She held up a hand to stop me saying any more.

‘Yeah, yeah. I know what you were talking about but I don’t want to hear it. Not any more. Too much water. Too many bridges.’

I nodded, reminded of a line from an old situation-comedy theme tune. ‘What became of the people we used to be?’ I looked at Kirsty, remembered the hurt I had caused her, knew I could still cause her when she looked at me with those green eyes that a man could lose himself in, and felt as low as she usually made me feel.

A honk sounded from across the car park as a black BMW 4x4 pulled in and approached. Sam Riddel, my ride back. I realised I was a little disappointed that he had arrived so quickly. And that thought scared me more than anything that had already happened that weekend.

‘What I want to know is…’ said Kirsty, snapping me out of my reverie.

‘Go on?’ I prompted.

‘How in the name of the crucified and risen saviour did you get the Home Office to spring you?’

Penelope Harris could never have been described as a cheerful woman

And that Saturday was no exception. She worked as a dental nurse in a small clinic in Old Amersham and was due to have the Saturday off. But due to staff shortages – caused by a stomach bug that had been doing the rounds though had mercifully passed her by – she had swapped her rota and agreed to come in.

Most lunchtimes she would have had a packed lunch in the staffroom. A cheese-and-pickle sandwich with a packet of crisps and a black-cherry yogurt. She never varied her routine. Routine was important to Penelope. Without routine you had chaos, as far as she was concerned, and Penelope Harris abhorred chaos as much as nature abhorred a vacuum. And one of the things Penelope did every Saturday afternoon was her weekly shop at the big Tesco.