They left the others and went downstairs to meet with Adam Finch, making polite conversation on the way, mainly about the enquiry but also about Bright’s recent health scare. The MRI had found no tumour or anything else that could have caused his violent headaches. He was no longer undergoing tests and his neurologist had signed him off, ordering him to take it easy.
‘Fat chance, eh?’ he said.
It was the news Daniels had been praying for. Not that there was any chance of Bright heeding the consultant’s advice. He picked up the pace, asking her to do the same, not wanting to keep his friend waiting. She caught up with him as he turned the corner, heading for reception.
Her wry smile was beginning to irritate him.
‘OK, so you were right. Again. Christ Almighty, are you ever wrong?’
It was nice to see the return of the grumpy bugger Daniels knew and loved. She was relieved that they’d faced one another after that awful row. They needed to pull together, now more than ever. Opening the door to a quiet room off reception, she stood back, allowing him to enter first.
Adam Finch got to his feet and shook hands with them both. He was immaculately dressed in a charcoal-grey suit and a black tie as if he’d come from a funeral.
A bad omen?
Daniels hoped not.
Finch looked tired and drawn, his dark clothing accentuating this. His hopeful expression faded as she shook her head slowly. As Senior Investigating Officer, it was down to her to take the lead. She asked him to sit down and took the only other available seat in the room, leaving the guv’nor standing.
‘We still haven’t found Jessica but we’ve made some huge strides forward today. Why didn’t you tell us about Jimmy Makepeace?’
Finch went a ghostly white when he heard the name. He hung his head, struggling for composure and for words with which to respond. When he looked up there were tears in his eyes. He said nothing.
‘That’s ex-Army Air Corps, Captain James Makepeace, in case you’re in any doubt.’ Daniels’ tone was deliberately harsh. ‘You were aware that his young daughter died?’
It was more a statement than a question.
Finch nodded. ‘He was like a man possessed when I refused his application for repatriation. The man was desperate. Now I know how he felt. But under the circumstances—’
‘I’m not interested in your justification, Mr Finch. I have only one goal and that is to find your daughter. Why didn’t you tell us this before?’
‘After all this time?’
‘I specifically asked you who might have a grudge against you.’
‘I know—’
‘Kate!’ Bright’s eyes sent a clear message: What the fuck do you think you are doing? ‘I think Adam’s been through enough, don’t you?’
‘Yes – and so has Jessica!’ Daniels carried on. She was far too angry to show compassion. ‘We’ve wasted precious time!’
Bright raised his voice. ‘I said, back off!’
Daniels met his gaze stubbornly. ‘Fine,’ she said, getting to her feet.
‘No. Please . . .’ Finch turned to face Detective Chief Superintendent Bright. ‘She’s right, Phillip. We’ve wasted time and any delay is down to me, not your DCI. To be honest, it really never occurred to me, until . . . and afterwards . . .’ He broke down, unable to finish his sentence. His words hung in the air as he choked back the tears, his face wracked with regret, his eyes pleading with them. Finally he said, ‘All I ask is that you find her.’
It was difficult to watch a grown man beg. Daniels looked away, giving Finch a moment to compose himself. She felt guilty now for having badgered him, couldn’t imagine what the man was going through or how he’d coped in the past nine days. She wanted, needed, to find his daughter. Take his pain away. Make things right for him and for Jessica.
It was too late to help poor Amy Grainger.
Finch cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts.
What he said made Daniels shudder.
‘If it is Makepeace after all these years, Jessica’s never coming home.’