The café was standing room only, filled with dog walkers, ramblers and families. The queue stretched for twenty metres.
‘Stacey said a seven-year-old girl went missing in 2002. She was named Helen Blunt, and she was taken from a summer fayre in Shrewsbury.’
‘Why this particular girl?’ Bryant asked.
‘The news reports stated that the girl’s mother had shouted at her for dawdling, and that little Helen had stormed off in a mood. The mother admitted to being quite worked up herself, with a toddler and a young baby and seven-year-old Helen, so she didn’t calm down and go looking for her for a good twenty minutes.’
‘What? In twenty minutes Harte could have travelled at least ten miles in any direction before the alarm was even raised.’
‘It gets worse. Eyewitnesses say it was more than a good telling off. They saw the mother give Helen a good shaking and a slap around the face.’
‘Oh, Jesus,’ Bryant said.
‘No leads. Never been found. In 2003, Harte funds the refurbishment of this place, and guess who he employs to do the work?’
‘His mate Jenson Butler.’
‘Correct.’
‘Guv, you know this is problematic, don’t you?’
‘Nah, Bryant, I’m thinking they’re just gonna let me tear their coffee shop down with my bare hands.’
‘You know, sometimes you could just answer a question without hostility and sarcasm,’ Bryant said as they approached the cabin.
‘And where’s the fun in that?’
The queue had reduced to no more than a handful of people as they approached the front of the line.
The kiosk was deceptively spacious and easily big enough for the two people cooking and serving inside.
Kim showed her ID.
They looked at each other and then back at her, as though doing their personal inventory of activities in case they’d done anything wrong.
‘May I ask how long you ladies have worked here?’
‘Too bloody long,’ they said together and then laughed.
Kim waited.
‘Nine years.’
No good.
‘Fifteen full-time and four years part-time. Why?’
Perfect.
‘Could we have a word, Brenda?’ Kim asked, looking at the badge.
‘Course yo con, me wench. What word would yer like?’
‘Privately,’ Kim said, glancing towards the queue.
Brenda shoved her head out.
‘Yer gonna have to wait a minute, love. Abby cor manage this lot on her own.’
‘It’s kind of urgent,’ she pushed, not too concerned about people having to wait an extra minute or two for a drink and a snack.
‘Go on, Bren – I’ll be fine,’ Abby said, nudging her in the arm.
Brenda removed her apron and stepped out the side of the cabin. Seeing no seats available, she motioned for them to follow her round the back.
A small, round table and two wrought-iron chairs were nestled out of sight.
‘Sorry,’ Brenda said, taking one of the seats. ‘Me feet are killing me.’
Bryant motioned for Kim to take the other seat.
She waited while Brenda removed a pack of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one.
‘When opportunity knocks, eh?’
Kim was pleased they were the reason for her impromptu fag break.
‘You were here when the works were carried out to the café?’
‘Oh yeah, right bloody headache that was. Owners insisted we try and keep going while it was being done, over there with a marquee, some urns and a hotplate. We did it though.’
‘And the work was instructed by a man named Steven Harte?’
‘Dunno his name,’ she said. ‘Never spoke to me but he was a good-looking bloke. Tony couldn’t believe his luck. He’d applied to the council for a grant. The shack was falling apart. He never expected to get the whole thing replaced for free.’
‘Go on.’
‘Well, that man you mentioned, he took it all very seriously. He spent time here, brought in his construction crew.’
‘Jenson Butler?’
Brenda shrugged. ‘Dunno – I kept away from all of ’em.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Cos of the trouble.’
‘What trouble? Something happened with Jenson Butler?’
‘Only if he’s a really big guy with a tattoo on his neck.’
That wasn’t Butler, but it sounded like one of his employees who she’d spoken to earlier in the week.
‘What happened?’
‘Got a bit too fresh with one of the other part-timers, Sasha – sixteen, I think she was. Started with wolf whistles and comments, which she ignored, but then that big bloke tried to corner her round the back of the toilets, tried to touch her. We told Tony, who wasn’t having any of that. Anyway, your man was even here for all the drama when Tony kicked the crew off site.’
Kim felt her hopes of getting a yes from Woody dwindling. When Bryant had said it was problematic, he’d meant getting Woody to agree to a second excavation when they’d as yet got no results from the first. A second batch of complaints from business owners was not going to be tolerated. And persuading him otherwise, when Butler hadn’t even completed the job, was going along the ‘don’t even waste your breath on a request’ route.
‘Your man came back after that bunch had gone. He couldn’t apologise enough. It was late in the day but he still took the time.’
Late in the day rang all kinds of alarm bells, but Woody was not going to allow her to dig up this family-owned business because of her suspicion. Maybe if the Wyley Court dig produced something, Woody would hear her out.
‘Thanks for your time, Brenda. You’ve been—’
‘Thank goodness they did get thrown off site,’ she said.
‘Why’s that?’ Kim asked, retaking her seat.
‘Well, the new construction manager suggested moving everything along by about fifty metres, so the seating area wouldn’t be obscured by the trees. Better view, and cos the footings hadn’t even been—’
‘Hang on, are you saying that the café isn’t sitting directly on top of the area that was dug by the first building crew?’
‘Not even close,’ she said, looking to her left. ‘See where that bench is?’
Kim did and it was around fifty metres away.
‘That’s where the first bunch were digging out ready. New guys came and filled it in properly and started digging again.’
Kim felt a smile begin to creep onto her mouth.
Fifty metres wasn’t far, but it might be far enough to get her a different answer from her boss.
Sixty-Three
It was almost three when Kim returned to the station, and it felt as though she’d been gone for days.
After her phone call to Woody, a second crew had arrived at the Clent Hills, and Brenda had moved into full-on organisation mode, clearing the public from the area. She’d taken on the task of informing Tony, the café owner, and Kim had completed a full handover with Inspector Tomkins before she’d left.
She’d been pleased to see that the board had been updated in her absence, offering clarity, though it did not make for easy reading.