Alison tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. ‘Does Bentley know Hillock?’
‘Only in passing.’
‘What does Bentley have to say for himself?’
‘That he picked up his girlfriend from Didcot and spent the rest of the evening with her.’
‘Do you believe him?’
Corrigan stood. ‘We have no reason not to at the moment. We’d like to have a look around the house and the garden, if that’s all right with you.’
‘One of your lot’s already done that.’
‘I know. But we’d like to see for ourselves. We’ll start upstairs and work our way down.’
Alison flapped a hand. ‘Do whatever you want if you think it’ll help find my daughter.’
‘Thanks. We’ll try to make this as quick as possible.
As soon as the police went upstairs to begin their search, Christine resumed her vigil at the front window. ‘There’s a BBC news van out there now.’
Alison sighed. ‘I don’t care.’
‘If I had my way, I’d shoot the lot of them.’
‘Yes, Mother, because that would do us all the world of good, wouldn’t it?’
‘I’m just saying.’
‘Then don’t.’
‘Pardon me for breathing.’
‘Perhaps it would be better to come away from the window,’ Michelle said, joining Alison at the table. ‘It will only encourage them if they see the curtains moving.’
‘They don’t care about the likes of us,’ Christine said. ‘They wouldn’t even give us the time of day if Jodie wasn’t missing. I went to the Feelham Herald once to complain about the council ignoring potholes in the road, and they as good as told me to stop wasting their time.’
‘I’m sure they’ve got better things than potholes to think about,’ Alison snapped. Footsteps thudded above her in Jodie’s bedroom. She hadn’t even got around to making the bed yet. The room would be a tip. Jodie seemed to enjoy living in chaos. But stupid things like that no longer mattered. Alison would have given anything to have her beautiful little girl home again making all the mess she wanted.
***
Just over an hour later, the two detectives returned to the front room. Corrigan looked as if he’d just run a marathon. Under normal circumstances, the difference in the two men’s size and stature might have made Alison smile, but these were not normal circumstances. Alison didn’t think she’d ever smile again.
She watched them going through the cupboards and drawers in the Welsh dresser. Taking out paperwork. Bills, receipts, old photo albums – so dated compared to the storage facilities of the digital revolution.
‘What are you looking in there for?’ Christine asked. ‘She’s not gonna be hiding in a cupboard, is she?’
Palmer shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t seem relevant, but it’s a necessary part of the investigation.’
After they’d finished rifling through the contents of the dresser and a matching sideboard, Alison followed them into the kitchen and watched them search the cupboards and base units. They even checked in the fridge-freezer and the washing machine.
Palmer stretched, hands almost reaching the spotlights on the ceiling. He looked out the window and asked Alison if the shed was locked.
‘No. There’s nothing in there except a knackered lawnmower and a load of junk.’
‘I’m just going to check inside.’
As he headed out of the back door, she turned to Corrigan. ‘She’s dead, isn’t she?’
Corrigan appeared thoughtful for a moment. ‘From my experience, I’d say you should always expect the unexpected. We had a young girl around Jodie’s age who went missing in Oxford three years ago. Four days later, a kid found her trapped in a garden shed when he kicked his football over the fence. Tired, cold, and hungry, but still very much alive.’
Alison wanted to hang on to that for all she was worth, but life had taught her optimism was only for those born on the other side of the tracks. The ones whose lives rolled along as smoothly as a brand-new car on a freshly tarmacked road.
Chapter Twelve
Two hours after Corrigan and Palmer had left the house, there was a loud persistent knocking on the front door. It sounded to Alison as if someone was trying to break down the door. To make matters worse, Michelle had also gone back to the police station about half an hour ago, leaving the two women alone to fend for themselves.
‘Who’s that?’ Christine asked. ‘If it’s one of them reporters, I’m gonna give him both barrels.’
Alison walked to the window and peered around the edge of the curtain. Her ex-husband, Colin, was standing on the doorstep. There was a small posse of reporters behind him, firing questions and jostling to get closer to him. Alison couldn’t make out what they were saying, but she didn’t need to; it would be the usual tripe which had little to do with facts and everything to do with sensationalism.
Alison let go of the curtain. ‘It’s Colin.’
Colin’s deep gravelly voice boomed through the letterbox. ‘I know you’re in there, Alison. Open the door, or I swear to God I’m gonna knock it down.’
‘Look, I’m the last one to take his side,’ Christine said. ‘But maybe it would be better to see what he has to say.’
‘Why should I? He wouldn’t answer the phone when I tried to ring him.’
‘Because he is Jodie’s father.’
‘Only when it suits him. He’s never once called and asked if she needs anything. How she’s doing at school. He walked out on us and left us up shit creek without a teaspoon. The only reason he’s here now is because he wants everyone to think he actually cares.’
‘I know, sweetheart, but you two are gonna have to come together at some point. For Jodie’s sake if nothing else.’
Alison paced back and forth in front of the window. ‘I hate him.’
‘Why won’t you answer your phone?’ Colin shouted. ‘You got something to hide?’
Alison shook her head as if trying to empty his words from her brain.
‘Bet that creep Stevens has got something to do with this,’ Colin added.
Christine rubbed her daughter’s shoulder. ‘Come on, don’t let him stand there feeding the press with his vile mouth.’
Alison reluctantly agreed. ‘But if he threatens me, you call the police straight away.’
‘Has he ever been violent in the past?’
‘No.’
‘You sure?’
‘I think I’d remember if he had.’
Christine peered out the window, then went into the hallway. She returned a few seconds later with Colin in tow.
A large man, with a permanent scowl, Colin Pitman always reminded Alison of a bull with a wasp up its arse. He was barely in the front room before he launched a verbal attack on his ex-wife.
‘What the fuck’s happened? I only got back home from Southsea yesterday, and the old bill were at my door asking questions about Jodie and where I’d been for the last four days.’
Alison ground her teeth to stop her thoughts turning into words.