Page 47 of Stolen Ones

‘Any particular sounds or…?’

‘Officer, it was twenty-nine years ago.’

Penn knew that nothing else was coming. She had no need to remember. She had no wish to help them catch the person who had taken her. She bore no ill will towards him.

Unless…

‘Ms Turner, would it help your memory if I told you we think he’s taken another little girl?’

He was shocked to see what he thought was annoyance cross her face.

‘It wouldn’t help my memory at all. I can’t recall what I can’t recall. And even if he has, I don’t think you should be unduly concerned. If he has her, he won’t hurt her.’

Penn almost said that the bones found at Hawne Park were likely to say otherwise.

Twenty-Six

‘Yeah, I didn’t get a lot else from him in there,’ Kim said, once Penn had finished recounting the details of his meeting with Libby Turner. ‘Although I think Bryant was close to flooring him once or twice.’

‘I’m not a violent man but he really does test my patience,’ Bryant admitted.

Kim could see his point. Frustratingly, Steven Harte was only giving her details that he could have read or learned during the time or since. And yet there was an intimacy to his recollection, a smile here or a frown there that hinted of involvement in the events as more than just an observer.

‘Now we have two victims that want to shake his hand,’ Kim said as a welcome figure appeared in the doorway. ‘Well, you took your time,’ Kim offered as a greeting as Alison Lowe, consulting behaviourist, stepped into the room.

‘The urgency was communicated to me in no uncertain terms by your boss.’

‘Sorry if we disturbed yet another day of you doing nothing useful except—’

‘I got home at 2a.m. this morning after consulting on a rape profile in Glasgow.’

‘Good to see you’re back to doing what you do best. Now take a seat,’ Kim said, pointing to the spare desk.

Kim was pleased the woman was back out again consulting, after her absence from the field following a near-death experience with her team.

‘Ooh, who’s that?’ she asked, peering at the screen that showed Steven Harte drinking his sixth cup of sweet tea.

‘Guys, fill her in,’ Kim said, checking her phone.

An email from Keats informed her that Doctor A and her team were now set up on site at Hawne Park.

‘So, what do you think?’ Kim asked, once the team had brought her up to date.

Alison fixed her with the customary emotionless stare. ‘I’ve been here five minutes. I haven’t asked one question or reviewed one minute of tape and you’re asking me what I think. Jeez, I bet you’re a cheap date.’

Kim raised a questioning eyebrow.

‘Forget the glass of wine, bypass the starter and let’s get to the main course.’

‘You do know we’ve got a little girl missing?’ Kim reiterated.

‘Only seven minutes in and you’re giving me attitude,’ Alison said, shaking her head. ‘That may even be a record.’

‘Much as I’d love a chat and a catch-up over a leisurely coffee and Danish, we need to press on.’

‘You’re saying there was no contact of any kind?’ Alison asked.

‘Neither victim even saw him,’ Kim offered.