‘I think we can make an educated guess who picked up Annie from Manchester Piccadilly train station,’ said Pymm.
She pointed at the list of Silvija Wilson’s mobile phone calls.
‘She did a lot of phoning around in the hour or so before she took Annie to the train station. This number here is the final one she called. She phoned it at 14.50 for four and a half minutes. She then called it again, ten minutes later. That number then called her back, twelve minutes after Annie arrived in Manchester.’
‘So, she was ringing around trying to find someone that Annie could go and stay with,’ said Warren. ‘This person agreed – probably after some persuasion – to collect her. Silvija then calls again, presumably after checking the time of the next train to Manchester, and then this person calls her back to confirm that Annie has arrived.’
‘That’s how I would interpret it, Sir.’
‘Excellent work, Rachel. Now who does the phone belong to? Please don’t tell me it’s another unregistered pay-as-you-go.’
‘Sorry, Sir. Shall I request the call logs and cell-tower data? Maybe we can work out who it belongs to and where they are staying,’ said Pymm.
‘Do it,’ ordered Warren. ‘You could also forward the number to the GMP and see if they have any ideas. The owner of the phone might already be on their radar.’
‘What are we going to do with Wilson?’ asked Pymm. ‘We’re approaching her custody limit again. Do we have enough to charge her, or should we release her?’
Warren had spoken to Wilson earlier. She’d refused to say anything else.
‘Let’s keep her in, until we’ve found who she called. I’ll ask DSI Grayson to arrange for another extension. We’ve got enough to charge her with perverting the course of justice, but I want to see if we can get more.’
Picking up his notepad, he headed for his office.
‘DCI Jones, there you are.’ Janice was uncharacteristically flustered as she scurried towards him. ‘I have your wife’s school on the phone. They say it’s urgent.’
Warren made his way to the hospital in record time. On the way, he tried calling Susan’s mobile phone repeatedly, but it kept on ringing out and diverting to voicemail.
Snatching a ticket from the machine, Warren risked scraping the roof of his car on the still-rising barrier, as he drove into the multi-storey car park. Knowing from experience that he could waste ages hunting for a space on the lower levels, he headed straight for the nearly empty roof. Eschewing the elevator, he then took the concrete stairs two at a time, shoulder-barging his way through the heavy wooden fire door on the ground floor. A light drizzle had started, but Warren barely noticed it as he raced across the hospital campus.
Following the signs, he headed towards the nurses’ station. He must have introduced himself, as the nurse on duty used his name several times as she explained to him what had happened, but he could no longer process the information that she was imparting.
Despite his lack of comprehension, he continued to nod, knowing that the sooner she was satisfied, the sooner she’d let him see Susan. Finally, she relented and led him to a small, private room off the main ward.
It didn’t matter how little he’d understood of what the nurse had told him, the tears coursing down Susan’s face told him everything he needed to know.