Gone

27

Emily was in her parents’ room, sitting on the enormous double bed, flanked by Janice and Cory. Her school clothes were still with Forensics, and now she was dressed comfortably in an off-white tracksuit and fluffy blue socks. She was cross-legged, holding a battered felt rabbit to her chest. Her dark hair was scraped back into a ponytail. She had a long, proud face, even at four. If Caffery’d had to choose he’d have called her Cleo and the blonde pony rider would be Emily.

He came to stand awkwardly next to the bed. Emily looked him up and down and he folded his arms because he didn’t know what to do with them and because she was making him selfconscious. ‘Hello,’ he said, after a while. ‘What’s your rabbit’s name?’

‘Jasper.’

‘How’s he feeling?’

‘He’s scared.’

‘I bet he is. But will you tell him from me that it’s all over now? He doesn’t need to be scared any more.’

‘He does. He does need to be scared. Jasper’s scared.’ Her face crumpled and a couple of tears squeezed out of her eyes. She drew her knees up. ‘I don’t want him to come and hurt Jasper. He said he was going to hurt Jasper, Mummy. Jasper’s scared.’

‘I know, I know.’ Janice put her arm round her daughter and kissed her forehead. ‘Jasper’s going to be OK, Emily. Mr Caffery’s a policeman and he’s going to catch that horrible man.’

Emily stopped crying and peered at Caffery again, scrutinizing him. ‘Are you really a policeman?’

He opened his jacket and pulled out his set of quickcuffs. Usually they were in the glove compartment of the car. It was just luck and oversight he had them in his jacket today.

‘What are those?’

‘Here.’ He gestured to Cory who held out his hands and let Caffery snap them on. Cory mimed a struggle to get out of them, then let Caffery release him. ‘See?’ Caffery said. ‘That’s what I do to nasty men. Then they can’t hurt anyone. Especially Jasper.’

‘Dad’s not a nasty man.’

Caffery laughed. ‘No. He’s not. I won’t be arresting Daddy.’ He put the quickcuffs in his pocket. ‘It was just for fun.’

‘Have you got a gun? Can you shoot him and put him in prison?’

‘I haven’t got a gun,’ he said. It was a lie. He did have one but it wasn’t a force-issue weapon and was completely illegal. The way he’d come by it – through a dodgy connection in one of the Met’s specialist units – wasn’t for anyone’s ears, least of all a four-year-old’s. ‘I’m not the sort of policeman who carries a gun.’

‘How can you put him in prison, then?’

‘When I find him I’ve got lots of other policemen who have got guns. I call them and they come along and put him in prison.’

‘So they put him in prison but you just find him?’ She didn’t seem impressed.

‘Yes. It’s my job to find him.’

‘Do you know where he is?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘Do you promise?’

Caffery regarded her solemnly for a while – and made a promise he couldn’t keep. ‘I promise I know where he is, Emily. And I promise I won’t let him hurt you.’

It was left to Cory Costello to show Caffery out. Instead of stopping in the doorway he came out on to the front step and pulled the door closed behind them. ‘Can I have a word, Mr Caffery? Just a moment of your time.’

Caffery pulled on his gloves and buttoned his coat. The rain had stopped but the wind was gusting now, and he could have sworn there was snow in the air. He wished he had a scarf. ‘Go on.’

‘How far is this going to go?’ Cory glanced up at the front windows of the house to check no one was listening. ‘I mean, it won’t go to court, will it?’

‘When we’ve got him it will.’

‘So I’ll have to get up and testify?’

‘I don’t see why you would. Janice, maybe. It depends how the CPS wants to handle it. Why?’

Cory tucked his lower lip under his teeth. He narrowed his eyes and let them stray away. ‘Uh – there’s a problem.’

‘How so?’

‘When all this happened . . .’

‘Yes?’

‘It took quite a long time for Janice to get in touch with me. It was five o’clock before I knew.’

‘I know. She tried to call you. You were in a meeting.’

‘Except I wasn’t.’ He lowered his voice. Caffery caught the glacial, oily tang of the vodka on his breath. ‘I wasn’t in a meeting and that’s what I’m scared of. I’m scared someone’s going to find out where I really was. That I’ll have to stand up in court and be questioned about it.’

Caffery raised an eyebrow and Cory shivered. He wrapped his arms around the thin sweater he’d pulled on over his shirt. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I had to meet a client.’

‘Where?’

‘In a hotel room.’ He rummaged in the back pocket of his trousers and handed him a piece of crumpled paper. Caffery unfolded it and held it under the porch light to read.

‘Champagne? At a meeting in a hotel room?’

‘Yes, well.’ Cory snatched the receipt back and pushed it into his pocket. ‘Don’t rub my nose in it. Will it go to court?’

Caffery regarded him with a mixture of pity and contempt. ‘Mr Costello. Whatever cock-up you make or are intending to make of your private life is none of my business. I can’t guarantee what happens in court, but this conversation doesn’t have to go any further. If you do something for me.’

‘What?’

‘The Bradley family. The guy found out where they lived.’

Cory’s face whitened. ‘Jesus.’

‘Our media strategy could have been better – I admit that – but I’m clear now. There’ll be no mention of what happened this afternoon in the press.’

‘What did he do to them?’

‘Nothing. At least, nothing to harm them physically. I don’t think for a second he’ll come after you – he hasn’t got Emily so he’s got no hold over you. But, just in case, I’ve put a complete block on the press. I don’t want to frighten Janice and Emily – but I need you to make sure they don’t talk.’

‘You’re not telling me he’s going to turn up here?’

‘Of course not. He doesn’t know where you live, but that’s only because the press don’t know either. We’re pretty good with the media, and on the whole they’re pretty good with us, but we’re never a hundred per cent sure.’ He looked at the front garden. It was a good one. There was a long path to the gate and the house was shielded from the street by large yews planted along the perimeter. A streetlight glowed on the other side of the trees. ‘You can’t be seen from the road.’

‘No. And I’ve got a top-end security system. I can set it for when we’re in the house. If you think I should.’

‘It’s not that bad – there’s nothing to panic about.’ He got his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a business card. ‘I’m going to have a patrol car stop by every hour or so, but if you get a hint that the press are on to you . . .’

‘I’ll call you.’

‘That’s the one. Day or night.’ He handed him the card. ‘You won’t wake me, Mr Costello. I’m not a great sleeper.’