I know I should say something, but I am still trying to believe in him – to trust him.
‘It’s important that we know where you are, Jo. You shouldn’t go out without telling us. I asked you specifically to stay in the house. We mentioned the other night that someone could be following you – perhaps waiting to see what you do. If we’re to control this situation we need to know where you both are at all times, and you should never be on your own. Do you understand why I’m saying this?’
I do, and I can tell she’s angry, but I’m still not sure if I should tell her about Ash. There must be some reason he’s doing this, and until I know more, I’m not going to say anything.
‘I’m sorry, Becky. I needed some air. I felt as if everything in the house was pressing down on me, reminding me of Millie.’
Becky’s voice is quieter when she responds. ‘And Ash?’
‘I think he feels hopeless and helpless, and perhaps thinks he’s let us down. He’s got it into his head that he might find her if he just drives around.’ I don’t tell her that, given where he’s heading, that’s patently untrue.
I can hear Becky’s frustration. ‘I’ve tried calling his mobile, but he hasn’t responded. Can I suggest you call him and ask him to come home – now, please. Tom and I would like to have a chat with you both about the next steps and feedback from the press conference, so let me know when you’ll be home.’
I promise to call Ash, and she hangs up. I don’t call him. As I flip back to the location finder, I can see that he’s stopped, and he’s about five minutes away from me.
54
As Tom walked into the incident room, Becky signalled to him.
‘Jo and Ash have gone walkabout.’
‘What? Stupid buggers. Don’t they realise we’re trying to keep them safe?’
He listened as Becky filled him in with Zoe’s reports of an argument and how they had both sneaked out.
‘Bloody hell. That’s all we need. Give them a bit of time to get back and keep me informed. I don’t want to ask for authority to track their phones unless it becomes necessary; they’ll probably be back before we’ve got it approved and up and running.’ Tom stifled his irritation and changed the subject. ‘You said you thought there was something dodgy about Tessa O’Hanlon when you met her. I think we’ve reached the point where we need to talk to her. Let’s get her in.’
‘Fine. I’ll call her. But before you go, Zoe’s also worried about the fact that Sami Rajavi is still missing. No one knows where he is, and although both Nousha and Jo say this is nothing out of the ordinary, she thought we should be aware.’
‘Ask Zoe to push a bit on where he usually goes. We considered and dismissed his involvement earlier, but there could be other reasons he’s missing. They’ve lost Ash, so have they gone for his brother instead? I know you rate Lynsey’s investigative powers, so if she’s got any capacity, get her looking into it.’
Becky’s concerned frown echoed Tom’s thoughts. They didn’t need any more complications in this case.
He walked towards the whiteboard. ‘Where are we up to, Keith?’
‘Steve Allman was at the show last night.’ Tom clocked the rolling eyes of the younger members of the team at the word ‘show’. Keith would probably have choked on ‘gig’. ‘He was asked to come in for an interview first thing this morning, and he should be here any time now. Apparently he was horrified at being asked to get up before noon.’
‘Do we know where he’s been staying?’
‘With a woman. We don’t yet have the details, unfortunately. She lives out Delph way, in the hills.’
‘Okay. Let me know when he arrives. We’ll talk to him, and then I’m off to see Jo and Ash.’
Before he could say more, Tom’s mobile rang. It was Philippa.
‘Detective Superintendent Stanley. What can I do for you?’
Despite their long-standing relationship, Tom always treated Philippa with the respect due to her position when other people were around.
‘Tom, I know you have quite a workload, but we’ve got a body. I originally assigned another team, but the victim is male, mid-forties and it looks like an execution – single bullet in the head. However, he also has a nasty wound on the side of his face. The pathologist hasn’t done the post-mortem yet but says the wound probably occurred up to twenty-four hours before the man was shot. It’s a total stab in the dark, but it made me wonder about Rajavi’s kidnap and the fact that he clipped one of his attackers on the face with his cuffs.’
Tom felt a moment of excitement. They had been eagerly awaiting the results of the DNA test on the cuffs, assuming that Ash had drawn blood when he hit the man. Now they wouldn’t have to wait. If they could identify him, he could be the lead they needed in their hunt for Millie.
Tom’s excitement was quickly followed by a hollow feeling. Had he been alive, his identification would have posed a huge threat to the kidnappers. But if he had been executed, it suggested it was to guarantee his silence. It also told Tom that whoever these people were, they were utterly ruthless.
55
To my surprise, I discover Ash has stopped at a retail complex. It has a huge car park, but I spot his car straight away, thanks to the bright blue colour that I selected for his BMW. He’s parked in front of a DIY store. What on earth is he doing here? Ash and DIY don’t go together, any more than me and housework.
I can see he’s still in the car, even though, according to the app, he’s been parked for five minutes. I pull up in the row behind, two cars to the left of his. My Fiesta is white, and there are several white cars parked nearby, so he’ll never notice me. He won’t see me in his rear-view mirror either, but I can see him.
He’s waiting. I can see him drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. He keeps twitching in his seat, his right shoulder jerking up and down. He’s usually so calm, and for a moment I think about getting out of the car and going to him. I resist the temptation, and I’m glad because finally I see him lift a hand to his ear.
He’s speaking. I can see his lips moving, so he must be on the phone. It’s not his phone, though. His is one of those models with a big screen, so he can use it for the Internet. This one must be tiny. I can barely see it within the palm of his hand.
Where did that come from? I’m sure he had nothing with him when he was taken on Saturday night. He must have brought it into the house with him today, in his scrubs.
Ash, what the fuck are you up to?
At that moment he lowers his hand. The call must be over. What now?
I wait. Ash lifts both hands and clasps them behind his head as if he’s trying to hold himself together.
Does he know something about Millie?
I can’t decide if I should call Becky to tell her that Ash is up to something or leap out of the car to go and demand to know what the hell is going on, but I take a few deep breaths and I wait.
The next five minutes seem to crawl by. Will he drive off? As long as he doesn’t turn his own phone off I can follow him.
From nowhere a black Volvo appears and pulls up in front of Ash’s car. It looks like a man driving, but I can’t see his features. Ash pushes himself out of the BMW, collects his crutches from the back seat and hobbles towards the car just as the man lowers his window. He says something. Ash stops dead. He stares at the man for a moment, his back rigid. Then he retraces his steps, his head low.