Val McDermid - The Torment of Others

‘Right,’ Carol said, settling into her chair. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Jordan and this is Detective Constable McIntyre. As your solicitor will have explained, Mr Alexander, we’re looking for your help in respect of another inquiry that’s not related to the reasons you were originally arrested. We would appreciate your co-operation.’

‘Why should I talk to you?’ Alexander blurted out. ‘You’ll only twist anything I say to make a case against me.’

Bronwen Scott put a hand on his arm. ‘You don’t have to say anything, Ron.’ She looked directly at Carol. ‘My client is concerned that any co-operation he offers you will be reflected in any subsequent proceedings.’

Carol shook her head. ‘You know it’s not up to us, Ms Scott. It’s the CPS who make the deals. But I’m perfectly willing to make representations to them at the appropriate time.’

‘That’s not good enough.’

Carol shrugged. ‘It’s the best I can do. Your client might like to consider the converse, however. If he fails to help us in such a sensitive case, nobody’s going to cut him any slack anywhere down the line.’

‘Is that a threat, Chief Inspector?’

‘Just a statement of fact, Ms Scott. You know as well as I how emotions run high in the case of a missing child. Sex offenders have a hard enough time in prison without adding to their problems. It’s up to you, Mr Alexander.’ Carol eyed Alexander, who was shifting uncomfortably in his chair. She opened the folder in front of her and took out the photograph Jan Shields had supplied. She placed it in front of him. ‘We found this on your computer. Do you recognize this child, Mr Alexander?’

He glanced at the image then looked away, desperately scanning the wall as if it would give him the answer. ‘Yes,’ he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

‘Can you tell me who it is?’

‘His name’s Tim Golding.’ He picked up Scott’s pen, gripping it in both hands as if trying to snap it in two. ‘His picture was in the papers. And on the TV.’

‘When did you acquire this photograph?’ Carol leaned forward slightly, forcing warmth and intimacy into her voice.

He flashed a look at Scott, who nodded. ‘I don’t know exactly. A few weeks ago, I think. It came in an email attachment. I was shocked when I opened it.’

‘Shocked because you recognized Tim Golding?’

He nodded. ‘Yes. And because of…because of how he looked.’

‘What? You’re not used to receiving pictures of naked, frightened children?’

‘Don’t answer that, Ron,’ Scott said quickly. ‘Chief Inspector, if we’re going to make any progress here, I must insist you stop asking questions whose answers might tend to incriminate my client.’

Yeah, right. Carol took a deep breath. She slid another photograph from her folder. ‘Do you recognize this boy?’

Alexander frowned. ‘Isn’t he the one who went missing last year? Guy something or other?’

‘Guy Lefrevre,’ Carol said. ‘Have you ever been sent photographs of Guy Lefevre?’

‘No.’ Alexander’s eyes flicked from side to side. Carol couldn’t decide whether he was panicking or lying. But with Bronwen Scott patrolling her every question, there was nothing to be gained by pressing the point.

‘What did you do when you recognized Tim Golding?’ she asked.

‘I erased the picture right away,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want it on my machine.’

Carol stripped her voice of challenge and tried to sound sympathetic. ‘You didn’t think about contacting the police? You could have printed it out and sent it to us anonymously. You’ve got children of your own, haven’t you, Ron? How do you think you’d feel if one of them went missing? Wouldn’t you want to believe that anyone who had information that might help the inquiry would pass it on to the police?’

A sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead. ‘I suppose,’ he said.

‘It’s not too late to put that right,’ Carol said. ‘Who sent you the photograph, Ron?’

He breathed out noisily. ‘I don’t know. People don’t use their real names on email, you know?’

Carol knew. They used nicknames and mixtures of letters and numbers even when they had nothing to hide. Her own personal email address was a combination of her surname and the last four digits of a previous phone number because, when she’d signed up, ‘caroljordan’ had already been taken. ‘OK. You didn’t know the identity of the sender. So what was his email address?’

He spread his hands. ‘I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention. I just wiped the whole thing. The email and the attachment.’

‘Presumably it was someone who had sent you things before?’

‘I’d advise you not to answer that, Ron.’ Scott laid a hand on his arm again.

Carol glared at the lawyer. ‘You seem to be losing sight of what’s at stake here, Ms Scott. A child is missing. We both know the chances are he’s dead. I’m trying to find out what happened to him, and that’s all I care about.’

‘Very commendable, Chief Inspector. But my concern is my client’s best interests. And I will not sit quietly by while you draw him into potentially incriminating statements.’

Carol gathered herself together and turned her attention back to Alexander. ‘Ron, can you remember anything that might lead us to the person who sent you this picture?’

He shook his head. ‘Honestly, if I knew anything useful, I’d tell you. I want to help, I really do.’

‘OK. Let’s try a different tack. Why do you think he sent it to you? Why would he have thought this was the kind of thing you might like to see?’

‘I don’t think…’ Scott began.

‘It’s all right,’ Alexander said. ‘I don’t know the answer to that either. Everybody gets unsolicited email. Spam blockers don’t get rid of it all.’ He sat back in his seat, clearly more relaxed now he’d figured out how to play the game.

Carol felt irritation rising. ‘Fine. If that’s how you want to play it, Mr Alexander, that’s the way we’ll go.’ She pushed her chair back. ‘This interview is over. But I should tell you that we’re going to be trawling every byte on your hard disk. We’re going to follow your footsteps round the web. You may think you’ve cleaned up your computer, but our technicians are going to demonstrate just how misguided you are. You’ve had your chance, Mr Alexander. And you just blew it.’

Carol marched out of the interview room and headed back to her office, not even bothering to check if Paula was following her. ‘Stacey? My office, now,’ she said as she crossed the squadroom. Paula and Stacey arrived together. ‘What did we get from the techies on Ron Alexander’s computer?’ Carol asked Stacey, waving a hand to indicate they should sit down.

‘Not as much as they’d hoped for,’ Stacey said. ‘People are so dim about this stuff. Alexander thought he’d erased everything from his hard disk. He probably panicked when he saw the earlier newspaper reports about Operation Ore. But like most people, he thought if he just deleted them then emptied the Recycle Bin, they were gone for good. And like most people, he never bothered to reformat or even defrag–’

‘Defrag?’ Paula asked faintly. Stacey rolled her eyes. ‘It’s when you–’ ‘Never mind,’ Carol said. ‘So there was still stuff lurking there?’

‘Well, yes, of course there was. File fragments, some complete files. Like the photo of Tim Golding.’

‘And can we find out where that came from?’

Stacey shook her head. ‘Not a trace. It’s an orphan.’

Paula opened her mouth but before she could speak, Carol said hastily, ‘Never mind, Paula, we get the idea. That’s a blow, Stacey.’ She rubbed the bridge of her nose between her fingers. The lead that had seemed so promising the day before was turning into another dead end. ‘What about his email service provider? Any chance they could help?’