At that precise moment, Ashcroft’s mobile rang. He listened, grunted a couple of times and hung up.
‘Good news, sir. Her car was flagged on a camera heading south
out of town about half an hour ago. That’s the road you’d take to get to the zoo.’
‘And any number of other places too.’ Reid’s cynicism, honed over years of service, was coming to the fore.
‘You’d head west if you were going to pick up the motorway. And the zoo is only five miles away. It’s got to be a good bet.’
Reid sighed. ‘Alright then, we’ll go there.’
* * *
Maggie navigated her way to the village without making a single mistake. She had a good memory when it came to that sort of thing. If she had once driven a route — it wasn’t the same when she was a passenger — the detail of roads, turns, bridges, odd landmarks and the like became imprinted in her brain. She liked to think she had her own GPS installed within her skull, which gathered and stored geographical data for future use.
She had driven Ellie there just that once. Ellie had been pregnant and prone to sudden puking and they had stayed in a two-bedroom stone cottage which overlooked the village, a five-minute stroll from the Kings Arms with its blazing fire, suspicious locals and stolid pub food. So when she came to the crossroads known locally as Dead Man’s Cross, she felt a shiver of delight run down her spine. This was where the gibbet had been erected in days long past, where many a sheep rustler had breathed his — and in one case her — last. There was no gallows now, of course, only a grassy mound on which a small stone obelisk had been erected to mark the spot for posterity and perhaps as a warning to the visitors who came here in their ridiculously large town cars and with their sheep-chasing dogs. But it wasn’t this gory piece of local history which had caused Maggie to shiver. It was the signpost itself, which stood modestly opposite the obelisk and indicated politely that she was a mere two miles from her destination if only she would take the left-hand turn. She felt a surge of pride. She had made it! She had found her way to her destination without a single wrong turn.
The lane which led up to the village was narrow, but thankfully she met no other vehicle coming the other way. She passed two walkers in matching ultramarine anoraks labouring up the gradient, but apart from them, there was nothing to distract her from the notion that she had gone back several years in time. In the passenger seat a bilious Ellie had exclaimed, ‘Christ, I think I’m going to wet myself!’
Ellie wasn’t with her, but her baby was. Maggie glanced over her left shoulder. Beth was looking out of the window, a look of excitement and expectancy on her face. Maggie suddenly realised that the girl had been here before. She recognised it. Ellie must have brought her.
‘Almost there,’ Maggie said. She waited for a response but no answer came.
* * *
The zoo car park was filling up fast. Cars were disgorging over-excited children and under-excited adults, all heading for the entrance.
‘Let’s get on with it,’ Reid said. ‘And let’s hope they did come here.’
They worked methodically, starting at the far side where the earlier arrivals would have parked and checking number plates as they made their way along each row. It wasn’t a difficult task, but Reid was in a hurry and he was half tempted to offer a tenner to a random teenager if they found Sinead’s car. He didn’t of course. It wouldn’t take them more than fifteen minutes to cover all the cars.
In fact it took less than three. At the beginning of the third row, they found Sinead’s car.
‘Bingo!’ Ashcroft said.
‘Thank God,’ Reid replied.
Soon a message was going out over the zoo’s loudspeaker system and within a couple of minutes a sprightly old woman marched up to the customer services desk. A curly-haired boy scampered behind her.
‘It’s my daughter’s car,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I’m borrowing it for the day. Is there a problem? I parked where I was told to.’
‘You are Sinead Parkinson’s mother?’
‘Yes. Has something happened to her? I only saw her this morning. I’m looking after my grandson. It’s half-term you see.’
‘Please!’ Reid raised his hand as if directing a car to slow to a halt. He showed her his ID card. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Reid. Let me assure you that your daughter is fine. But we need to speak to her. Can you tell me where she is today?’
‘I don’t know.’ Mrs Parkinson was still flustered.
‘So you’re driving her car.’
‘Yes. She said she wanted to borrow mine. I think she had quite a long way to drive. My car is more comfortable than hers, so we swapped for the day.’
‘Can you just confirm your own registration number, please?’
She recited it.
Red glanced at Ashcroft, who had his notebook out. ‘ANPR, Sergeant.’