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a call. I’ll point you in the right direction for some lovely places. You’ll not go far wrong.”

Janet Soames smiled.

Gardener resumed. “You were saying, Mrs Soames. You saw David Vickers every day. What was unusual about the day he went missing?”

“He was with someone.”

“Adult?” inquired Gardener.

“More a youth. Nineteen, maybe. To be honest, I took him for his brother.”

“They looked alike?”

“I couldn’t say whether they looked alike. The youth wore a baseball cap. But they chatted away quite happily, which is why I thought they were related.”

“Can you remember anything else about him?” asked Reilly.

“Only what he was wearing. He had jeans and a pair of boots. What do they call them? Tan colour, builders wear them...”

“Rigger boots,” answered the Irishman.

“Yes, that’s it. He also wore a black leather jacket. There was something on the back. It looked like a golden bird. There was some writing as well, but I wasn’t close enough to see what it said.”

“Had you ever seen him before the day in question?” asked Gardener.

“Not that I can remember.”

A rattling sound in the direction of the back door drew Gardener’s attention. He watched an overweight black cat squeeze its way through the cat flap.

“Any distinguishing features? Did he have a limp? Was there anything odd in his manner?” asked Gardener.

Janet Soames thought for a moment before replying. “It all happened so quickly. And it seemed so natural. The younger boy didn’t seem troubled. In fact, the youth held a carrier bag in one hand. He was trying to eat fish and chips with the other, which is why I thought they might be brothers.”

“But you hadn’t seen the teenager before?” pressed Gardener. “Had you ever noticed anyone else collecting David Vickers. An adult?”

“No. Sometimes he was with friends, sometimes he was on his own.”

Gardener frowned. A twelve-year-old boy leaving school without supervision, particularly after two teenage girls had gone missing, was asking for trouble.

“Where were you when you saw them?”

“The living room. I’ll show you.”

The room was big and bright and smelled of pine. Aside from a blue Dralon Chesterfield suite, the only furniture it contained was a bookcase and a coffee table. There were no net curtains at the windows, which let in the full light of daytime.

“I was here, by the chair.”

“What happened?”

“I was using the vacuum cleaner, when I noticed the two of them walking past the gate, together.”

Gardener noted a hesitation, a quiver in her voice. She was holding something back.

“And?”

“Past the school bus.”

“Did he normally catch the school bus?”

Janet Soames paused again. “I think so.”

“But not this time?” persisted Reilly.

“I don’t think so, no.” Gardener saw the tears forming in her eyes.

“Is there anything else you can add to what you’ve told us?”

She wiped her eyes with a tissue, and brightened a little. “Yes. The youth had a carrier with the name of the fish-shop on it. Barker’s.” She pointed to her left. “It’s about half a mile from the school in a block of small shops on the right. If they went in there, maybe Mr Barker can tell you something.”

Gardener passed her his card. “Thank you, Mrs Soames. You’ve probably been more helpful than you realize. If you think of anything else, please ring me.”

The two detectives crossed the room. Before leaving, Gardener turned. “One more question. Can I ask why you haven’t told us before now?”

“My husband and I have just come back from America. Well, Sunday actually. It’s taken till now to catch up on the newspapers.”

“Would you recognize the youth again?”

“The jacket, yes. I didn’t see his face.”

“Maybe we should talk to the neighbours. Do you know them well?”

“The old couple next door, the Watsons, might be worth visiting.” Once again, she pointed to her left. “They’re retired now so they’re home most days. I feel sure they might be able to help.

The couple on the right I’m not so sure about. The Mallards. They’re both teachers, but the school is in Halifax.”

“You never know, Mrs Soames. One of them might have been at home. Thank you once again for your time. Like I said, if you think of anything else, just call the station.”

Outside, the Irishman turned to Gardener. “A teenager luring kids away. I wonder if he had anything to do with the missing girls. We might strike lucky with the jacket.”

“That’s what I was thinking. But why did he change sex with his victim this time? And if he did take the girls, what’s happened to them? I’ve read all the interviews. As usual, no one’s seen anything. He must be bloody sure of himself if he has taken all three!”

Janet Soames mentioned how well-mannered David was, which fit in with what he’d discovered from the parents. He had never missed school, was liked by his teachers and peers, as well as the neighbours. He earned pocket money by tending to odd jobs for them. He wasn’t sports orientated, more a bookworm. He had a computer in his room, his games being challenging adventures as opposed to shoot-em-ups. He used to help his father, Jim, on weekends, in the small DIY shop they owned in Churchaven. The boy was definitely not the outgoing type, so how had the youth lured him away? It must have been more than a promise of fish and chips.

Gardener sighed. “Two cases with no leads to suggest a connection. Two children are missing, a third is dead, and no one can help. We find a decomposed corpse that looks as if it’s been dead three months, but really only dead for three hours. We can’t find out anything about him, what he’s been killed with, or who killed him…” – He turned to his partner and scowled – “…and now I’ve

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