DELAHAYE SURVEYED THE DAPPLED INTERIOR of the watching woods. He lifted the clear evidence packet, its contents a small, dried-out paper bag. He tipped it upside down and a fine white powder puffed out – kali, the stuff Lines called kiddie cocaine. It was found a few metres away from the dead tree, discovered by a police dog following Gary’s scent; protected from the thunderstorms by the close-knit tall trees.
This was the place Gary was taken. It was a densely forested section of the Lickeys, the sky mostly hidden by canopy, and cloaked in the woods’ Grimm penumbra. The ground was uneven, raised roots ready to trip unsuspecting feet, crammed with lush bushes and ferns.
There had been evidence of someone having lived rough or briefly camped in this spot – a rock fireplace in which dead ashes coagulated, and, beside it, a filthy quilt stuffed into the old tree’s hollow trunk. After Mrs Cutter had suggested Aster occasionally lived rough in the hills, the police had organised a manhunt across the area but had found nothing. Delahaye wondered if the search had discovered this little nook, and doubted it. SOCO had taken the quilt for analysis, to see if any trace evidence was matched with the blanket found around Bryan Shelton. There wasn’t, but there were grains of that strange cement found under Bryan’s fingernails so the police knew it was likely the same person who had snatched both boys.
According to Lines, Ancona told him that somebody had ‘told’ Gary about a special hiding place. Gary’s two friends, Jez and Billy, couldn’t recall anybody telling Gary about it. The only adult they’d spoken to that afternoon had been the ice-cream man. Delahaye wondered who that ‘somebody’ could have been. No signs of footprints, the ground too hard to maintain any lasting impressions, even after the weekend rain.
Delahaye smoothed a pebble between his thumb and forefinger, and surveyed the dogs’ scent detection line. The land was briefly level, then dipped to match the incline of the surrounding woodland. A dead tree lay partially hidden from view – a potential hiding place?
Delahaye walked until the trees thinned out and the road appeared. He checked his watch: from the dead tree to this spot cost fifteen minutes at a fast walk. It was doable for a strong man carrying a child. But this point, in the exposed treeline, a man carrying a child would’ve been noticed, particularly on a hot summer afternoon – especially a man as loathed and recognisable as Bob Aster. What if the boys were being abducted for Aster by an accomplice?
If Gary had struggled, people would’ve noticed. But if he hadn’t struggled, if he’d been rendered unconscious, then it would’ve looked like the man was carrying a sleeping child. If the child had been bleeding, alarm bells would’ve sounded in every passing bystander – but not all head injuries bled. A vehicle to transport the child must have been used but the path from the hollow tree was too narrow and rough for a car. A few of their suspects had cars but their main suspect, Aster, didn’t have a licence – not that you needed one to drive someone else’s vehicle illegally.
Delahaye frowned. Then how?