Charlie hurried along the pavement, searching for suitable targets. Morris Road was a busy thoroughfare, linking the restaurants and bars of Bedford Place to the train station and beyond that the Western Docks. It would be a good route for someone wanting to leave the city centre and return towards the docks, as it was generally busy and you wouldn’t draw attention to yourself. It had a few shops and a pub, but otherwise was fairly run-of-the-mill and nondescript.
Spotting a newsagent’s, Charlie darted across the road and pushed inside. She wondered privately why they still called themselves newsagents, as she surveyed the interior. Increasingly they were more like discount alcohol shops that happened to sell newspapers too, such was the variety of cheap cider and lager on display. Charlie had no doubt that all the local fifteen-year-olds beat a path here for their booze and fags. But that wasn’t why she was here, so pulling Robert Stonehill’s picture from her bag, she hurried over to the owner.
He was a young Asian guy, seemingly more interested in his smartphone than minding the shop. But Charlie’s warrant card got his attention and he happily accepted the photo. He was casting an eye over it now and Charlie was already scrolling forward – working out how many shops she would be able to tick off before returning to base – when he suddenly spoke.
Charlie looked up sharply.
‘Couple of times. A while back now …’
‘When?’
‘August, I think. No, it was September actually …’
September was the right answer. Charlie suddenly felt tension rise inside her as she asked the next question:
‘How sure are you?’
‘Pretty sure, you know. He never said nothing. Just got his milk, his bread and handed over the cash. I thought he might have been a junkie or something. He looked right through you.’
Charlie was already looking round the shop and in the far corner of the room she spotted a CCTV camera.
‘What are the chances you might have CCTV footage of him?’
‘Could do. The old man likes to keep an eye on the place … and me,’ he replied, laughing.
‘Then maybe you could show me the way.’
Shrugging, the young man hopped round the counter and, having flipped the sign on the door to ‘Closed’, ambled off towards the back of the shop. Charlie followed him, her heart beating fast. After weeks of fruitless searching, she finally had a lead.