Page 110 of Silent Scream

‘Anything else?’

‘Yeah, the actual records of Crestwood from the council are shite. I’m still monitoring Facebook unofficially and ringing round ex-residents officially. Some of the registered runaways were actually there that night and some on the list had left weeks before.’

Hmm ... Kim thought. Either gross inefficiency on the side of the council or a deliberate attempt to confuse the final record of occupancy. At this point, either option was a possibility.

Although Kim wasn’t totally comfortable with Stacey’s presence in the Facebook group it appeared to be bearing more useful information than official records.

‘Stace, ask some questions about Tom Curtis. Find out how close he was to the girls. I’d like to know if there were any rumours about inappropriate behaviour.’

‘Will do, Guv.’

‘Okay, Kev, get back to site and Bryant, I think you and I should pay Councillor Croft another visit.’

‘Umm ... Guv, there’s one more thing,’ Stacey said.

‘Go on,’ Kim said, reaching for her jacket.

‘I got three addresses. Last knowns for each of our girls.’

Kim exchanged a look with Bryant. It was the least favourite job of any detective. Whatever the circumstances of them being placed into care, Kim felt sure there were existing family members who would be deeply affected by the discoveries of their deaths.

Bryant took the list as he walked past Stacey’s desk.

First they would check on the living and then do the work of the dead.

Fifty-Six

Kim noddedtowards the squad car parked outside the gate. Although West Midlands Police wouldn’t authorise a twenty-four-hour watch of Richard Croft, squad cars had been advised to carry out periodic checks via the intercom when in the area.

Bryant pressed the speaker button and waited for the gate to open. He waited ten seconds and pressed it again.

They looked at each other. On their last visit the response had been immediate.

‘Keep pressing,’ Kim said, getting out of the car.

She walked back to the squad car. The officer wound down the window.

‘How long since you checked?’

‘About twenty minutes. Said he was going to work from home this morning and go to the office later. A car came out a few minutes later. The nanny, I think.’

Kim jogged back to Bryant. Richard Croft had been in the house alone for at least twenty minutes. ‘Anything?’

He shook his head.

‘Okay, we’re going in.’

She stood for a second and planned her route over the gate. It was cast of wrought iron forged ornately of flowers, swirls and leaves. Her eyes picked out a trail for her feet close to the wall on the left hand side. She used both hands to rock the gate. It was steady.

Kim remembered Keith telling her that years ago one of the local furnacemen got caught in his wheelbarrow while tipping a load of scrap iron into the furnace and went in with it. The local vicar was called in to say prayers over the molten liquid as it was poured into moulds. She remembered thinking that she hoped he’d been made into something nice.

Sorry, mate, she thought as she began her ascent. She cocked her right leg over spikes one foot high that adorned the top of the gate.

‘Not a chance,’ Bryant said, from below.

‘Come on, you big girl,’ Kim said.

‘I bloody will be if I try that manoeuvre.’