51

A text alert sounded on my phone. I ignored it. Then it rang.

‘Did you get what you needed?’ It was Chris. I could hear he was worried about me, and I was touched. I coughed to release the tension in my throat.

‘Not really,’ I said with a bitter laugh.

‘It will take time, John,’ he replied. I could hear a lot of unexpressed emotion in that sentence.

‘Are you not tempted to have it out with her yourself?’ I asked.

‘Other than getting things sorted out with the house, I don’t want to see her ever again,’ he said firmly.

‘I wish I could be more like you,’ I said. ‘But I need to know why. How she could even think it was…’ I coughed again. Having this conversation with Chris over the phone was far from ideal. I broke my chain of thought. ‘You had an idea earlier. Did you get anywhere?’

‘Luckily, Billy, the night guard, was in a wee bit earlier this evening. All it took for his help was a couple of joints and the contact deets for my supplier,’ he said with a smoky laugh. ‘When will you get here? We could do with a hand going through the CCTV feed from outside the hotel.’

‘Give me an hour.’

Thomas seemed a decade older since I’d first seen him just days before, as if the weight of his admission had aged him. When I walked into the hotel I found him and Andrew sitting in a corner sofa just beyond the reception area, in front of a large TV showing a cartoon channel. He gave me a nod of acknowledgement, but his eyes wouldn’t meet mine.

‘Liz was putting them down for their afternoon nap, but this one wouldn’t go to sleep.’ He jiggled the little boy in his lap. ‘So I brought him down here so his mum and brother could get some peace.’ At this, Andrew ducked his head, and then placed it against his father’s chest, his large blue eyes full of love and concern. He looked as if he’d barely left his father’s side while I’d been gone.

‘Okay?’ Thomas asked as he looked up at me.

‘You?’

He sighed. ‘Been worse.’ He kissed the top of Andrew’s head. ‘This little man is making me feel better by the second,’ he said raising his energy and inserting cheer into his voice.

The teacher in me reared back from this, and an internal voice chided: Please don’t put that burden onto your son. Your emotional health is not his responsibility. But, of course I said nothing. In his clearer moments I was confident Thomas would realise this.

Chris entered and gave us both a nod. ‘John, the office is just along here…’ He beckoned me to follow.

‘Anything I can help with?’ Thomas asked.

‘The more the merrier,’ Chris said with a smile. ‘But perhaps it might not be ideal to have small eyes looking on?’ He added looking down at Andrew.

‘Gotcha,’ Thomas said. ‘Give me a sec.’ He picked Andrew up and kissed his forehead. ‘Let’s go and see what Mummy’s doing.’

A couple of minutes later, Thomas returned and Chris led us from reception along a short corridor towards a door. He pushed it open and when we walked in Thomas gave a small whistle.

A broad-shouldered bald guy wearing tiny round glasses, looked over from a computer monitor tucked away in the corner of the small office. Above him on a shelf sat another screen, which was divided into four, each of them displaying the view from a different camera out on the street.

‘You must be Billy,’ I said.

He tipped his chin at me, and then, following my gaze, said, ‘It’s not the worst part of the city but we’ve had the odd issue with drunks and junkies.’ He looked at the screen. ‘The boss thinks this keeps us all a wee bit safer.’ Then he looked over at Chris. ‘This didn’t happen,’ he said with a look of warning. ‘Or I’m in serious bother.’

Chris made reassuring noises as Billy got up from his chair and walked to an industrial-sized printer in the other corner of the room. ‘I pulled a number of pictures from the feed. Unfortunately, there’s no one person in particular who looks like they’ve placed the photo in the pocket of the woman … Liz?’ He looked at Thomas for confirmation. ‘But there are a number of people who got close enough to.’ He took a large pile of paper from the printer. ‘You guys want to look through these?’

‘Sure,’ Thomas took the photos from him and fanned them out on the desk. One caught my eye. Liz was in the centre of the image, head turned slightly as if something had caught her attention. Her hands were on the handle of Jack’s pushchair. The top of Andrew’s head was visible but there was no one else in the frame. As I studied the picture I could see how easy it would have been for someone to drop something into her pocket.

Thomas slid another image across to me. And so the process went. One image after another, all of us checking carefully to see if there was anything of note.

But nothing.

‘Shame,’ Chris replied. ‘It was worth a shout.’

I looked up at the line of small screens, my attention caught by a passing white van. Everywhere on each of the screens there was movement. Except … I leaned in closer.

‘What is it?’ asked Billy.

In the weak evening light we could see a man in a pale raincoat standing at the corner. Everyone else was going somewhere except for him. Which was not that unusual really, he could simply have been waiting for a friend, or any number of things.

I pointed, thinking that I might as well satisfy my curiosity. ‘Can you zoom in on this guy?’

‘Sure,’ Billy said and pressed a couple of commands on his keyboard. An image filled one of the large monitors. The man at the corner raised a hand to his face, scratched his cheek and slowly looked up and down the street.

‘I know him,’ I said. ‘It’s David Collins.’

‘Who?’ asked Thomas and peered closely at the screen. Then he stepped back, hand to his mouth, eyes wide as if he’d just been presented with a face from a nightmare.

‘What is it?’ I asked, looking from Thomas to the computer screen and back again. Then the penny dropped.

‘That’s him,’ said Thomas. ‘That’s the cop I went to for help.’