“What’s up?” asked Freya.
Ross pulled out his inhaler, shoved it into his mouth, and breathed in deep.
“Police,” he gasped. “Call the police.”
Freya leaned further into the hole, dropping both cups. “Oh my God!”
Chapter Twenty-nine
At eight the following morning Gardener was staring at the whiteboard. He was still dressed in yesterday’s clothes, having spent the night in a chair at the police station in Bramfield.
The news about Robbie Carter was disturbing. In view of everything that had happened – whether he was responsible for the death of his wife or not – the man was still of interest to them. They needed answers.
That was bad enough, but the fact that everyone else connected to the murder – Robbie Carter, Manny Walters, and more recently, Carrie Fletcher – was also missing caused further concern.
Once the shock had worn off, Gardener gave his team a number of actions. What they didn’t know was how long Robbie had been missing. He’d signed on at four, but by ten o’clock he’d disappeared. He could be anywhere.
The team had left armed with photos and information, to try all local taxi offices, bus companies, train stations, and any other possible mode of public transport they could find. He’d run details out to all ports and airports to keep a watch for him but he’d considered that route unlikely, because they still had his passport.
Expenditure had to be a problem, so he had one of the officers inside the station checking Robbie’s bank for cash withdrawals. His mobile phone had not been used for at least twenty-four hours. It was possible that he was now operating a cheap pay-as-you-go phone that was next to impossible to trace.
Finally, he had no choice but to issue the press office with as much detail as he could so that they could bomb all the media outlets. He would now have to rely on the general public.
One final thing he did was wheel clamp Robbie’s van where it stood, on the drive, in the event that he returned.
It had been one hell of a night and the promise of anything better was slim.
The door to the incident room opened and Reilly brought in a tea and a coffee, sitting opposite Gardener.
“How are you feeling, boss?”
“Like we’ve failed, Sean.”
“We haven’t failed. He hasn’t been gone that long. We’ll find him.”
Gardener took a sip of tea.
“Not just him, though, is it? Where the hell is Carrie Fletcher? If Robbie Carter is responsible, and knew about the will, then he must know about Carrie Fletcher’s involvement. Maybe he’s done something with her – like it’s possible that he did something to his wife.”
“Unless they were both involved in making his wife disappear.”
Gardener thought about his partner’s suggestion. “Doesn’t make sense. Carrie Fletcher doesn’t benefit from the will so there would still be nothing in it for them if they were together.”
“True. And from what we’ve seen and heard, Carrie Fletcher probably has enough money.”
“Which leads us to Manny’s door. Is he controlling everything or is he in with Robbie?”
“The elusive thief?” replied Reilly. “I doubt it. Maurice Cragg reckons v
iolence is not Manny’s style. Robbie could have employed Manny to burgle the place, make it look like something it wasn’t. But then, what does Manny have to gain?”
“Money, and whatever he sells on.”
“There is another possibility.”
“What?” asked Gardener, sipping his tea. His stomach rumbled. The last thing he’d eaten had been the chicken wrap the previous evening.
“Someone else is controlling the whole thing – someone we don’t know about yet.”