‘Narrow them down. By tomorrow I want to know every project that has involved any kind of construction, and at the top of the list I want the ones where he used Butler Building Limited.’
‘Got it, boss.’
‘Property?’
Penn groaned. ‘Another bloody maze of paperwork and red herrings. So far, I’ve found seven separate UK companies that trace back to Steven Harte, and three of them own substantial property ranging from disused warehouses to farmland and forestry. We’ve also got money being moved around the EU, so I suspect there are other companies abroad used for tax purposes. Any one of them could own land.’
‘Keep at it,’ Kim said, although the feeling in the pit of her stomach told her they weren’t going to find Grace that way. All it took was one small property on one farm in the midst of such a sizeable portfolio.
‘Once I’ve got all the properties listed I’ll do a radius travel assessment.’
Kim nodded her agreement.
There was a timeline between him taking Grace from the day centre to him arriving at the station. He could only have travelled so many miles and back in that time. Penn loved a puzzle, and he was bloody good at them.
‘Stace?’ Kim asked once the photos had been lined up on the wall.
Stacey had arranged them in chronological order starting with Libby Turner, the jewellery maker who was being abused. Suzie Keene, the architect who’d had a miserable home life. Melody Jones whose family appeared to love the money more than her. And Grace Lennard who had been taken from the day centre yesterday.
‘I’m down to sixteen potential victims after Melody was taken. Just need to cross-reference a few more things to narrow the list down further.’
‘Tomorrow morning?’
‘Absolutely, boss.’
‘Alison?’ Kim asked. The behaviourist had had a couple of hours now.
‘Well, he sure doesn’t like being called a sicko, so I’d stay away from that,’ Alison offered.
Yeah, she’d gauged that much from his reaction herself.
‘He’s very good at hiding his true emotions but not quite good enough. He’s a bit of a leaker.’
‘A what?’
‘Real feelings leak out. We can’t see our own faces. Micro-expressions are the ones you need to watch out for. They flash in 1/25th of a second. Our facial expressions are directly connected to our thoughts and emotions. They are almost impossible to squelch.’
‘Squelch?’ Kim asked, wondering if these were actual technical terms.
‘Oh yeah, squelching is a thing when you try to hide the real emotion. See, we can’t anticipate our feelings to what’s about to be said, so the brain isn’t quick enough to hide the initial response.’
‘Jesus,’ Bryant said. ‘All this squelching and leaking reminds me of some dodgy films I watched at university.’
‘TMI, Bryant,’ Kim said, cringing. ‘So, I know you can analyse our conversations after the fact, which is all well and good, but give me some pointers on what I should be looking for when I’m back in the room.’
‘Okay, people will often subconsciously touch or try to cover their eyes when being deceptive. Men tend to rub their eyes. Notice his blink rates. Liars blink more. Look for asymmetrical expressions. Genuine emotions are balanced so when they’re forced it sometimes looks lopsided. Look for gestures that match the emotion. True emotional indicators are usually expressed simultaneously. Feigned indicators occur in quick succession.’
‘Example?’ Kim asked.
‘If I’m outraged I’ll cross my arms as I scowl. If I’m forcing it the action will come after the emotion. Watch for the duration. Genuine expressions rarely last longer than five seconds. A fixed emotion will stay longer.
‘Another obvious one is nodding that moves in the opposite direction. Liars rehearse their words but not their gestures. If a person who normally gesticulates freely stops moving their upper body, they’re probably being deceptive. They’re giving more away by trying to give nothing away if that makes sense. Also look out for emblems.’
‘Is this a special language?’ Bryant asked.
‘Things like winks, shaking fists, the V-sign. If they’re used outside the normal context, it’s a red flag for deception. The use of illustrators decreases when someone is lying.’
‘Oh, Lordy,’ Bryant moaned.
Alison used her hand to make a cutting motion. ‘That’s an illustrator. It’s directly linked to speech and is used to emphasise a spoken point. And one final point for now. Liars don’t mirror. As explained earlier, the act of mirroring is a comfort move. Liars are more likely to pull back if you sit forward.’
Kim had come across mirroring many times before. It was a technique Alex Thorne had tried on her in the past. The thought of the woman brought a roll of anxiety to her stomach, but she pushed it away. Her focus right now was on Grace Lennard and those other little girls whose photos were now on the wall.
‘Hope to be more specific once I’ve watched your interaction live and played back all the CCTV in slow motion,’ Alison continued.
Kim nodded absently as her eyes darted from one photo to the next.
‘Such pretty little girls,’ Alison said, following her gaze.
‘Exactly what I’ve been thinking,’ Kim said as she headed for the door.
Thirty-Eight
This time when Steven Harte was led into the interview room, Kim was waiting for him. She was sure that if the man was experienced in spotting micro-expressions he would have spotted her satisfaction in seeing him dressed in the paper jumpsuit and being instructed what to do and when. His days of wandering in and out of the station of his own volition were over.
‘Good evening, Mr Harte. Would you like a drink?’
He nodded. ‘Tea with…’
‘One sugar. Yes, we know,’ she said, nodding to the constable.
Bryant took a moment to repeat his rights. She was taking no chances on this one.
‘And would you confirm that you have waived your right to legal representation at this time?’
He nodded.
Kim glanced towards the tape recorder. ‘Please state your answer.’
‘Not at this time.’
Kim regarded him for a few seconds, looking for any of the pointers Alison had offered, but right now he looked calm and relaxed.
‘I trust that you’re being taken care of,’ Kim said.
Alison’s last words had been to let him have his tea.
‘The food is as I imagined it.’
‘You expected to be taken into custody?’ she asked, raising an eyebrow.
‘Of course,’ he answered.
Again, the feeling that she was playing a part, following a script.
‘We spent some time at your home today.’
He smiled and from what she’d learned, the crow’s feet told her the expression was genuine. There was no tension. She’d been right. Grace was not there.
‘It’s a very nice home. Sympathetically restored but a massive space for one.’
He said nothing.
She waited.
‘Sorry, Officer, but that was an accurate statement, not a question. Is there something about my home you’d like to know?’