In Plain Sight Read online

  The reporter then concluded the piece, giving a number to call with any information. When the filming was done, she thanked Clare.

  ‘How quickly can you have it out?’

  ‘Within a couple of hours, hopefully. Three at the most. We’ll run it on all our news bulletins.’

  Clare thanked the crew and headed back over the dunes to her car. The search team was packing up now, the cops climbing into a fleet of minibuses, the dogs back in their vans. Clare was glad to get into the car and turned on the heater. She executed a quick three-point turn and headed back to the station where she found the press camped out. As she opened the car door they clamoured round, and she did her best to push through them.

  ‘Have you found the baby, Inspector?’ one of them called.

  ‘How are the parents holding up?’ another asked.

  She turned as she reached the station door. ‘Rest assured, ladies and gents, as soon as we have any information, we’ll let you know.’ And, with that, she escaped indoors.

  ‘Any news?’ she asked Sara, who was manning the desk.

  ‘Nothing concrete,’ she said. ‘A few false alarms.’

  ‘But you’re checking them all out?’

  ‘Yep. Mostly crying babies neighbours hadn’t noticed before.’

  ‘Cheers for that, Sara. I’m just going to check my emails then I’ll catch up with you on the Mitchells’ neighbours. Briefing in the big room, ten minutes. Pass the word around.’

  Clare went to her office and powered up her computer. As she waited for it to come to life she took out her mobile phone and checked for messages. Two. Both from Geoffrey. She swiped to read:

  Fancy an end of holiday dinner tonight?

  My treat?

  The second message read:

  I’m guessing you’re knee-deep in holiday washing.

  Message if you can make dinner. I miss you already x

  PS How was the fun run? Personal best time?

  The fun run! It seemed so long ago now. She sighed. Dinner with Geoffrey would have been lovely. She sent back a quick message saying something had come up. She added a line of X’s at the end and put her phone back in her pocket.

  The computer came to life and she clicked to open her email, groaning as her inbox loaded. One hundred and twelve. Most of them rubbish, probably. She scrolled quickly down, looking for anything of interest. One marked Urgent caught her eye – a drugs death while she was away. She opened the email and scanned it quickly. Another youngster. A schoolgirl this time. Just sixteen. What a waste. She jotted this down on her notepad to check with the drugs team. See if there were any new suppliers in town.

  There was another message that stuck out. From the Assistant Chief Constable. Something about improving relations between police and the media.

  ‘That’ll be the day,’ she muttered, highlighting the email to read later.

  Chapter 5

  The incident room, normally home to no more than five or six cops at a time, was more crowded than Clare had ever seen it. Phone calls had gone out to anyone on a day off and, to a man, they had come in prepared to work as long as necessary. In spite of the seriousness of Abi Mitchell’s plight, Clare felt a rush of pride at this response. They might be a set of moaning buggers at times but, when they were really needed, there was no finer bunch than the cops squeezed into this packed room.

  Half a dozen extra desks had been unearthed from the store and were occupied now by officers sitting back-to-back, some in uniform, others in plain clothes. Suit jackets had been cast aside in the stuffy atmosphere, and the air hung with the combined odour of sweaty bodies and Pot Noodles. There was a low-level hum from the computers and laptops, punctuated by conversations on mobile phones and across desks. The window blinds had been closed against prying eyes and the room was bathed in the glare of artificial light. Clare took it all in and, for a moment, was transported back to her days in the busy Maryhill Road station in Glasgow. And then she saw the photo. Pinned on the wall, next to the whiteboard. A smiling, single-toothed baby – Abigail Mitchell. A stark reminder of why they were here.

  She stood by the photo of Abigail, waiting for the hubbub to die down, the phone calls to end. They were an assorted bunch. Male, mostly; maybe a third of them female; all ages, stages, shapes and sizes. The chatter subsided and they turned to face her.

  ‘Thanks, everyone. I won’t keep you long. For those of you who don’t know me, I’m DI Clare Mackay. I’ll be heading up this enquiry, until we’re allocated a DCI.’

  There were a few polite smiles and Clare pressed on.

  ‘First of all, I’d like to welcome our colleagues from other stations. I realise it’s a bit more cramped here than you’re used to but we’re so close to the parents’ house, it makes sense to be here.’

  There were nods and murmurs of agreement.

  She turned to the wall and indicated the photo of Abi. ‘Abigail Mitchell. Six months old. Has one front tooth and a birthmark on the left side of her neck.’ She paused for a moment then went on. ‘Complicating factor is she needs a medication called digoxin twice a day to correct a heart defect. Without it, she will die.’

  ‘How soon?’ Jim asked.

  ‘Not sure, but the doctor thought anything more than forty-eight hours could be dangerous. So it goes without saying that we throw everything we have at this. A baby’s life is in danger.’

  Heads shook and someone said, ‘Chrissake.’

  ‘Quite. Now, we don’t know if Abi has been taken for ransom or if there’s another motive for her abduction. So we’ll be following the standard Child Rescue Alert procedure in the first instance. Any questions?’

  No one spoke and Clare continued. ‘Runners and protesters. Where are we with those?’

  A stocky detective in his early forties raised a hand and Clare averted her eyes from the damp patch under his arm.

  ‘All been interviewed, boss. Janey and I’ – he indicated a blonde officer across the desk – ‘we’re running names through the PNC. Nothing yet.’

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Bill, boss. From Dundee Bell Street.’ He nodded again at the blonde. ‘That’s Janey.’

  ‘Thanks, both.’ Clare scanned the room again. ‘Who’s updating HOLMES?’

  A dark-haired woman in a grey suit raised her hand to indicate she was updating the Home Office database. ‘Nita,’ she said. ‘From Cupar.’

  ‘Right, Nita – thanks.’ Clare nodded at her then went on. ‘Anyone on social media?’

  Two female uniformed officers raised their hands. ‘Erin and Liv, boss,’ one of them said. ‘From Glenrothes.’

  Clare smiled. ‘Okay, guys. Make sure you have COSAIN installed on your laptops.’ She saw a few blank faces around the room. ‘Software for monitoring social media platforms,’ she explained. ‘It’ll save you hours trawling through nonsense so, if you don’t have it, get it installed ASAP. Any problems, get onto Diane down at Tech Support and she’ll give you the download key.’

  Bill raised his hand again. ‘What about registered sex offenders?’

  ‘Definitely.’ Clare hesitated, then carried on. ‘We can’t ignore the possibility that Abigail Mitchell may have been taken to be abused.’ She paused to let this sink in. A few heads were shaking.

  ‘Jesus,’ someone said. ‘Six months.’

  ‘I know,’ Clare said. ‘It doesn’t bear thinking about – only, we have to think about it. So, volunteers to check up on registered offenders?’

  Three hands shot up and Clare nodded in acknowledgement.

  ‘Strictly by the book, mind,’ she added. ‘We’re all desperate to find that baby but I don’t want any complaints of heavy-handedness and I especially don’t want any evidence ending up inadmissible because we haven’t followed procedures. Okay?’

  The cops who had volunteered nodded and she added, ‘Ten-mile radius for starters.’

  Janey’s hand went up again. ‘Boss – could other children be in danger? If the baby has been taken by paedop
hiles?’

  ‘Sadly, Janey, it’s a possibility. But I don’t want to cause the Mitchells any more anguish than they’re already experiencing. So, we say nothing about possible sex abuse to anyone outside this room. Every parent in the country will be keeping a close eye on their children now. It’s a natural response to something like this, so I think we can avoid spelling it out to the press in the meantime. I hope we’re all clear on that?’ She looked round the room and there were nods and mutters of ‘Yes, boss.’

  Clare let that sink in then she said, ‘Now, the next bit’s more sensitive. We need to check anyone who’s had a baby die recently. So that means cot deaths, stillbirths, late miscarriages or late terminations. Anyone who might be grieving for the baby they should have had. I need volunteers to contact local GP practices and hospitals.’

  Janey raised her hand. ‘Bill and I could do that. We’re nearly through that list of runners and protesters.’

  Clare smiled at them. ‘Thanks, both. Now, once we have a list we’ll divide them up. It’s a sensitive area and ideally I’d like promoted officers to handle these enquiries. Whoever does it, remember we have Standard Operating Procedures for dealing with this type of investigation. The handbook’s online. Check the guidelines, and use them.’ She hesitated for a moment. ‘There’s no getting away from the nature of this case. A six-month-old baby has been taken from her pram in broad daylight. She has the potential to become ill very quickly. So we need to get out there and find her. But the people you will interview could be as distressed as Abi’s parents. Perhaps more so. And, as unlikely as it might seem, one of them could have Abi. Someone does. So you need to go gently, but firmly. We don’t want anyone scared but we do want information. And fast.’

  ‘What sort of information are we after?’ one of the uniforms asked.

  ‘Movements on Sunday morning and since. Look round the houses for any signs of a new baby. But bear in mind if they bought baby stuff for a new arrival they may still have it sitting out. It’s not toys and cots you’re looking for, more used bibs, bottles, a changing mat, an open pack of nappies – that sort of thing. If you have grounds for suspicion, ask to have a general look round. Check the washing line for baby clothes, bins for dirty nappies. But – and I can’t stress this enough – go gently.’ She looked round to make sure the message had hit home then turned to Janey whose hand was raised again.

  ‘What’s the family set-up, boss?’

  Clare said, ‘Kevin and Lisa Mitchell. A married couple in their early thirties. They’re distraught, as you can imagine.’

  ‘No indication of an inside job?’ Janey asked.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Nice house, quite close to here. They seem to have money but not enough for a kidnap from what Chris and I could see. No sign that they want to involve the press so my gut instinct is to rule them out of it. Either way, we need to look into their background for any clues as to why Abi’s been taken.’ She scanned the room. ‘Who’s running the Police National Computer check on the Mitchells?’

  Nita raised her hand. ‘Me, boss. They’re clean.’

  ‘Okay, thanks Nita. Jim – any luck with Kevin and Lisa’s parents?’

  Jim shook his head. ‘No convictions or cautions. Still looking for addresses.’

  ‘Pass that to Nita then please,’ Clare said. ‘Give her what you’ve got so far.’

  Nita and Jim exchanged nods and Clare pressed on.

  ‘What about neighbours, Sara?’ she asked, scouting the room until she saw her PC.

  ‘Nothing much. Mostly keep themselves to themselves. One said Lisa could be a bit sharp but they all seem to like Kevin.’

  ‘Okay, thanks Sara. Can you give the neighbours’ details to Nita as well, please? PNC check, Nita. Anything at all – complaints, noisy parties, disturbances. If anyone so much as raised a voice to the Mitchells, I want to know about it.’

  Sara indicated she would and Nita scribbled this down on her notepad. Clare eyed Sara. Normally so alert and keen, but now she just looked tired. This case seemed to have hit her hard. Best keep her busy. ‘Sara, can you go through prison releases for, let’s say two months? Especially anyone with child-related convictions.’

  ‘Sure, boss.’

  ‘Any other family we should be looking at?’ Bill asked.

  ‘Yes. Lisa has a sister – Ashley McCann. Chris and I called at her house but no one was at home.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure I jailed her,’ Liv said. ‘Down in Glenrothes. She assaulted her boyfriend’s ex. Did time for it, I think.’

  ‘She did,’ Erin said. ‘I remember it. A bit more than an assault. She stalked and threatened her. Made the girl’s life a misery and finally gave her a kicking. I think she got a year, probably served half that.’

  Clare glanced at Chris. ‘Did you run a check on Ashley? Please tell me you did that while I was doing the TV interview?’

  Liv raised a hand. ‘Sorry, boss. DS West asked me to do it. I’m on it now.’

  Clare’s lips tightened and she shot Chris a look. Then she turned back to Liv. ‘Quick as you can, please, Liv. Do we have a uniform outside her flat?’

  Jim raised his hand. ‘Sent young Gary. He called in about half an hour ago. No sign of her yet.’

  Nita raised her hand again. ‘What about the Family Liaison Officer?’

  ‘Wendy Briggs is acting as FLO to the Mitchells,’ Clare said. ‘She’s experienced and tactful. She also has a sharp pair of eyes so she’s a good person to have in the family home. If there’s anything going on, she’ll spot it. And, if we need to do a full search of the house, she’ll keep them occupied.’

  Clare went on. ‘Chris, do we have monitoring of the parents’ phones set up yet?’

  Chris eased himself off a desk and took a phone from his pocket. ‘Yep, done now. Wendy called half an hour ago to confirm.’ He turned to face the room. ‘Kevin and Lisa’s phones have had a bit of spyware installed. Basically, when the phone is used, it comes through to this handset as well. So we can listen in on any calls, in or out.’

  ‘What sort of calls are we looking for?’ Sara asked.

  Chris looked at Clare. ‘Boss?’

  ‘To be honest, Sara,’ Clare said, ‘I’m not sure. The Mitchells seem pretty well off for a young couple but not the kind of money a kidnapper might try and extort. On the other hand, if Abi was taken because of something they’ve said or done, or something they know, we might just get a clue from their calls.’ Clare’s eye fell on Jim. ‘Can you co-ordinate monitoring of the phone, please, Jim? We need someone on it, day and night.’

  Jim indicated he would do this. ‘What about laptops?’ he asked.

  Clare looked at Chris. ‘Dammit. Forgot to check.’

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said. ‘Wendy’s sorted it. Just the one laptop between them. She had a cop call round for it while you were at the beach. Should be at Tech Support by now.’

  Clare smiled. She had a good team round her, despite Chris’s occasional tendency to offload the more tedious tasks to colleagues. She checked her notepad and saw the word pizzas. ‘Pizza bikes, Jim – anything?’

  ‘Sorry, Clare, I forgot to say. No pizza delivery company sent an order to the West Sands on Sunday. Most of them don’t start delivering much before two in the afternoon.’

  Clare looked round the room. ‘Right. So I need someone to phone the pizza companies back. I want the names and addresses of the delivery staff plus the rotas for Sunday, including any last-minute swaps. We need to know why a pizza bike was at the West Sands on Sunday at midday.’

  ‘Could just be someone watching the race,’ Sara said. ‘Maybe a friend was running.’

  ‘Almost certainly,’ Clare said. ‘But we can’t leave it to chance.’

  Jenny, a Detective Sergeant from Dundee, indicated she would look into that.

  Clare smiled at Jenny then went on. ‘Okay, last thing: I need a couple of bodies to get onto Kevin and Lisa’s phone records. Texts and calls in the last four weeks, please.’
She looked round the room and nodded at Robbie and Gillian, both uniformed cops, who had raised their hands. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘That’s it. Let’s reconvene at six tonight. Good luck, guys. Keep in touch.’ The room began to hum with chatter again, as the cops went about their duties. Clare watched Chris follow Sara towards a vacant desk; but before Sara could sit, he put a hand on her shoulder. Sara turned and they stood talking. Then she sat down at the desk, pulling a computer keyboard towards her. Chris ambled back.

  ‘Ready, boss?’

  She raised an eyebrow.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nothing. It’ll keep. Come on – let’s see how the parents are now.’

  * * *

  Wendy met them at the door. She stepped outside, pulling the front door closed behind her. ‘They’ve had a visitor.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘The sister.’

  ‘Ashley?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s her.’

  ‘We’ve been trying to get hold of her. Is she still here?’

  ‘No. Left about half an hour ago.’

  ‘Stay long?’

  ‘About twenty minutes.’

  Clare hovered on the doorstep. ‘Chris,’ she said, lowering her voice, ‘check with young Gary to see if Ashley’s come back home. Let me know right away if she has.’

  Chris went back to the car to make the call while Clare and Wendy went into the front room. Kevin was still sitting on the sofa, twisting a tiny pink Babygro suit in his hands. There was an ashtray full of dog-ends on the coffee table and the smell of tobacco smoke hung in the air, catching in Clare’s throat. There was no sign of Lisa. Clare looked at Wendy, who jerked her head upwards. Clare looked towards the stairs and Wendy took her cue. ‘I’ll just…’ And she left the room in search of Lisa.