‘But how can you tell if the smile is fake?’ Stacey asked, intrigued. ‘Everyone is different.’
‘The muscles around the eye sockets are the most difficult to control. Only one in ten people can do it. Forcing a smile to reach the eyes is difficult to do. Only genuine happiness can control the orbicularis oculi, the eye orbiting muscle.’
‘How about verbal clusters?’ Penn asked.
‘Qualifying statements like “to tell you the truth”. Repeating the question verbatim, non-spontaneous response time, weak tone of voice, dodging questions, inappropriate detail, objections to irrelevant specifics, dismissive attitude. More emphasis on persuasion than facts.’
‘But what if a person naturally speaks or acts that way?’ Stacey asked.
Everyone was different. Some people had idiosyncrasies that could be interpreted inaccurately.
‘That’s why we need a baseline behaviour against which to compare it. Just like a polygraph interviewer will ask baseline questions before starting a lie detector test. He needs to establish normal physical responses against which he can compare the set questions. I need baseline behaviour before the boss began questioning him.’
‘But we don’t have that,’ Penn said. ‘The boss put him in the room and the camera started rolling.’
Alison smiled. ‘Luckily for me your boss decided to keep him waiting for a while in the foyer. It’s not much; I can only gauge some non-verbal behaviours, but it’s enough to detect marked change in his interview demeanour.’
‘So did he do it?’ Stacey asked, leaning forward.
Alison laughed. ‘I’ve been here a couple of hours, watched his interviews once and you want me to answer a question like that?’
‘Okay, is there any question you can answer?’
‘Ask me if there are any particular indicators of deceit.’
‘Are there?’
‘Yep, about ten of them.’
‘And?’
‘So far, our man in there has shown just about every one of them.’
Thirty-Six
‘Who do you reckon Woody had to sleep with to get this through so quickly?’ Bryant asked as they headed to the home of Steven Harte.
‘I think it falls under the don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy.’
‘Do we have one of those?’
‘We’re not the bloody army,’ she said, rolling her eyes.
But she’d thought pretty much the same thing after Woody’s call as they left the premises of Butler Building Limited.
Quite frankly, she didn’t care what body part he’d sold to get the search warrant. He’d assured her it would be at the premises by the time they got there, and right now they were no more than a few minutes away from his address in Wombourne. She used the time to offer up a silent prayer that they were about to find Grace Lennard alive and well and completely unharmed.
‘Bit too easy, guv,’ Bryant said, voicing the nagging thoughts in her head.
‘Shut up, Bryant,’ she snapped.
He did as she’d asked until he passed three police vehicles and Mitch’s van. The gate to the property was already open and their lead forensic tech was already here.
‘How did they get the gates…? Oh, I see,’ Bryant said, taking a better look.
Metal plates had been removed to reveal the mechanism that could be wound manually.
They passed through the gates and stopped as Inspector Weaver waved them down.
‘You’ll be wanting this, I expect,’ he said, passing her the search warrant through the window. ‘We’re cracking on with the external search, but the front door has been accessed ready for you. No one has entered.’
‘Are the dogs contained?’ she asked of Rocky and Tyson, his two Dobermans.
‘No dogs, marm,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Thanks,’ she said, closing the window. Another lie he’d told her.
Bryant moved forward slowly as Kim thought how strange it was to now be on this side of the wall after trying her hardest to just get a looky through the hedge barrier during the night.
She already knew that it was by far the grandest, most expensive property they’d ever visited.
‘How much?’ she asked her colleague.
‘Four to five,’ he answered as they approached the property along a sweeping gravel road to a circular raised lawn placed perfectly central to the front of the house.
‘Make that closer to five,’ Bryant said as a stable block and coach house came into view.
‘It’s a good-looking house,’ she observed. ‘And it’s going to take a while to search thoroughly.’
‘Master of the understatement there, guv,’ he said, pulling up in front of the white-painted Regency property.
A double green door had been removed, and Mitch stood suited and booted, ready to enter.
She got out of the car and took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the house and its surroundings. A total of twelve arched windows graced the front of the property.
‘Grade II Regency Gothic,’ Mitch said, walking towards her with his phone. ‘Last sold twenty-five years ago for half a million but probably now worth closer to five.’
Bryant smiled smugly.
‘What else does Rightmove tell you?’ Kim asked, approaching the front door.
‘That it has ten bedrooms, five bathrooms, a good few reception rooms and a cellar.’
‘You got the floor plan of when it was sold back then?’
Mitch nodded.
‘Text the link to me and to Bryant as well,’ she said, stepping inside the property. ‘And get to the cellar as quickly as you can.’
The hallway was a stunning space, lovingly restored, with a geometrically tiled floor and high ceilings.
‘Bloody hell,’ Bryant said from behind.
Kim pulled her gaze away from the ornate cornicing and delicate ceiling roses. They weren’t here to appreciate the property’s beauty.
‘Okay, you take upstairs,’ she instructed Bryant as both their phones tinged receipt of a message from Mitch, who was briefing members of his team who had just arrived.
‘If I’m not back in an hour, it’s because I’ve moved in.’
Kim laughed as she took the pair of gloves being offered but she completely understood his sentiment.
Despite it being a grand sprawling property, there was something comfortable and welcoming. It had been restored to its former glory without being overdone. There was no unnecessary grandeur. Surprisingly, it was still a home.
For one person, she reminded herself. This was all for one man who lived alone and wasn’t known to have formed any romantic attachments in the last thirty years.
‘Don’t forget to look for CCTV equipment,’ she called as Bryant headed for the stairs.
A wave over his shoulder showed he’d heard.
She loaded the floor plan to her phone and got her bearings.
Surely, Grace was here somewhere. She prayed they were going to come across a locked room and behind it would be a little girl, perhaps frightened, disoriented but alive and unharmed.
She took the first left into the dining room. The easy, gentle theme of the hallway flowed perfectly into the next space.
She walked the room, opening and closing drawers and cupboards, her analytical eye looking for anything out of place. This was an initial cursory search but she didn’t want to miss anything. The hardwood floors guided her back to the hallway.