Gardner’s head rattled as she exited KYLO’s glass fortress.
Revelations such as these would do that to a person.
Her winter wear did little to fend off the ice-cold wind that they’d to battle with to get into their car. The weather was turning for the worse again. She could feel the icy sting of snowflakes on her face. It wouldn’t be long before the world around her was forced into another standstill.
Not the best time, to be honest. This was the first time she’d felt anywhere near the truth since the skull had emerged from Robert Thwaites’ treasure chest, and she wanted nothing coming in the way of this final sprint to the end.
In the car, shivering, she filled in Rice on the rest of Col Brooker’s story, while cranking up the heat.
He shook his head with a stunned expression. ‘Is he telling the truth?’
‘Yes. I think he is.’
‘So… potentially we’ve six… six… lost babies.’
‘Stolen.’
‘I wish he was lying,’ Rice said.
‘I do, too, but he’s just admitted to turning a blind eye to one of the most atrocious things I’ve ever heard. He’s not about to tell a lie that paints himself in that way.’
‘I guess so.’
Gardner heard her phone buzzing from the door compartment. Realising that she must have left it in her vehicle while she was in Bright Day, she reached for it.
‘Stolen babies. Not that they’re babies any more. They’d be in their thirties,’ Rice continued. ‘Where the hell are they?’
Two missed calls from Barnett.
And no calls from Cecile.
Shit.
She had to be in serious trouble. There was no question any more. Contacting Sandra Mills in Wiltshire last night had been a good move.
‘We’ll find them,’ Gardner said to Rice as she dialled up her voicemail.
‘And can we burn KYLO to the ground?’
‘We’ll try,’ Gardner said, knowing full well how difficult that would be.
With widening eyes, Gardner listened to Barnett’s messages. Barnett’s breathtaking messages.
Rice lost patience quickly, especially when he heard Gardner mutter and curse under her breath and rub at her temples. Every time he hissed, ‘What is it?’ she silenced him with a raised finger.
Afterwards, she dropped the phone to her lap, shaking her head, and explained Barnett’s discoveries regarding Robert and John. And as Rice took his turn to mutter and curse under his breath, something occurred to Gardner.
Something from her visit to the homes of John and Robert.
Ruby May Thwaites.
Clara Atkinson.
The daughters of the two key players with a story to tell were both thirty-three.
It wasn’t a difficult calculation.
They’d have both been born in 1991.
Immediately, she became convinced that Ruby and Clara were two of the missing babies.
She voiced this to Rice. His eyes widened.
Then, she attempted to contact Barnett back. Voicemail.
‘Shit!’ she thought out loud. ‘Okay… so he’s quizzing Atkinson. We’ll pick up with Thwaites first.’ She reversed her car. ‘Meanwhile, Phil, contact the local registry office. I want the birth certificates for Clara and Ruby May.’