Текст книги "Jessica Daniel: Think of the Children / Playing with Fire / Thicker Than Water"

Автор книги: Kerry Wilkinson

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 56 страниц)

21

The change in the atmosphere around the station in the days since Lloyd Corless had been found was remarkable. No one thought Sharon had anything to do with the other disappearances and the fact Lloyd’s name had been on the list found in the allotment shed seemed to be a coincidence. The senior members were delighted the boy had been found alive and well – and the subsequent media coverage was very positive. Jessica thought a lot of the internal relief was because they had somehow managed to keep news of the list’s existence in-house.

From her point of view, Jessica was still frustrated because they had only solved one mystery which it now seemed wasn’t even connected to the wider one they were supposed to be looking into. Plenty of people around the station were happy to offer her a ‘well done’ and give the proverbial pat on the back but she didn’t share their enthusiasm, instead retreating to her office.

Meanwhile, everything was being hampered by the weather. At least when it had been wet, they could get on and do things. As the winter freeze had taken hold, the ground where they’d discovered Toby Whittaker’s clothes was becoming almost impossible to work on. They were no closer to finding the identity of the driver either.

Jessica was sitting at her desk when there was a knock on the door and Izzy entered. Jessica welcomed the constable in, who sat on the corner of DS Cornish’s empty desk.

‘Are you all right?’ Izzy asked.

‘Not too bad.’

‘Something else has happened, hasn’t it?’

‘What, with the case?’

‘No, it’s more than that. I can tell by the way you have been smiling to yourself the last few days when you think no one’s around.’

‘It’s just because we found Lloyd.’

The constable laughed. ‘There’s a man involved, isn’t there?’

Jessica tried to keep a straight face but cracked within a second, laughing out loud in a way she knew really wasn’t like her. ‘Maybe.’

Izzy started to laugh too. ‘My detecting skills are really coming along. Who is it?’

‘No one you’d know.’ Jessica was trying to be overly evasive but she didn’t want to talk too much about Adam either.

Izzy nodded and spoke with a big smile. ‘Like that then, is it?’

‘How’s the peanut?’

‘Getting bigger. I think I’ll start to tell people next week.’

‘Peanut’s a good name. You should think about using it. Pretty for a girl, solid enough for a lad. I’ll let you have it for free.’

‘I’m not that mean. Anyway, you seem to be at the top of everyone’s Christmas card list at the moment.’

Jessica shrugged. ‘This was the simple part. We still don’t know who killed Isaac Hutchings. Everything’s going so slowly. I’ve been tidying up the stuff with Sharon Corless. She’s pleaded guilty but says her son was nothing to do with the abduction. The super isn’t convinced but we don’t have anything to prove differently.’

‘How’s Lloyd?’

‘I spoke to Esther from the kidnap team earlier. She said that when Rachel and Lloyd were reunited, the son seemed all right and the brother was pleased. But rather than being overjoyed, Rachel was apparently really angry, saying Adrian would never see his kids again and all that. Her mate was trying to calm her down but she wasn’t having any of it. To be honest, there’s something not quite right with them all. The grandmother was giving some sort of drug to Lloyd to make him stay quiet and not cause trouble. When I found him, he was asleep, even though it wasn’t that early. She let me look around the house but I think that was because she knew her grandson was out like a light and wouldn’t make any noise. She came quietly in the end but it’s all a bit odd.’

‘How did she manage to take him without anyone noticing?’

‘We’re not really sure but, if you know the area, you could figure it out. The cameras only covered the school gates so if she parked away from them, she was unlikely to be seen. There are so many kids getting into so many cars on roads outside schools, who would really notice someone going voluntarily?’

‘I guess. And a result’s a result.’

Diamond was trying to be cheery but Jessica wasn’t particularly in the mood. While things were moving slowly, she wanted to get away from the office to spend the evening with Adam. For the past few nights, with Caroline still staying at hers, she had been stopping at Adam’s house. Caroline had sensed something wasn’t quite right and sent Jessica a text message saying she had a new flat lined up but wouldn’t be able to move in until the new year. Jessica told her friend not to worry and that she could stay for as long as she wanted. In truth, she was practically living with Adam in any case, even though they had only been back together for less than a week. They had slotted straight back into the way they had been, as if nothing had happened in between.

Jessica’s ambivalence seemed to spur the constable into action. ‘I do have one thing for you. Your teacher guy, I might have found out who he is.’

‘Ian Sturgess?’

‘Sort of. I stumbled across a “Benjamin Ian Sturgess”. “Ian” is the guy’s middle name. He’s more or less the right age and lives fairly locally. If he taught using his middle name, he could be the right person – and it would explain why we didn’t find him before because we were searching for the wrong name.’

Jessica stared at her colleague. It wasn’t the first time she had spotted a piece of information everyone else had missed.

‘Have you told anyone else?’

‘Not yet, it could still be the wrong person. I’ve been busy too.’

Izzy reached across and handed over a sheaf of papers that had details of the man she had found. Jessica skimmed through the pages. She knew roughly where the area was.

‘Do you want to come for a drive?’

‘Sorry, Jason’s got me following some things up. He says that digital artist’s impression of the driver is finally due today. It’s cost them tens of thousands, apparently. Something to do with “3D digital remodelling” according to Jason. It’s no wonder it took so long. Dave’s probably free.’

‘Yeah, but he’s so loved up he’ll be talking about learning to play the guitar or something stupid.’

‘He did say he was writing a song.’

‘Oh for . . . you’re joking?’

Izzy laughed. ‘I am actually. He’s not been too bad with the whole Chloe thing this week.’

‘If he starts talking about marriage or anything like that, I’m emigrating. I can’t take a world where Dave Rowlands gets married before I do.’

The constable smiled and cupped an area just under her stomach in her hands. ‘I didn’t think you went for the whole marriage and babies thing? That is unless . . .’

Izzy had a small grin on her face as she looked at Jessica, who glared back in a silent but friendly warning. Jessica took another look at the top paper, ignoring the insinuation. ‘I’m going to go talk to this Benjamin Sturgess and see if he’s our man. Keep me up to date if anything happens around here and if that image arrives, send a copy to my phone.’

Rowlands drove out to the address with Jessica in the passenger seat, trying and failing to wind him up. Since his relationship with Chloe had become serious, he seemed utterly unflappable.

Already thinking ahead, Jessica noted the Sturgess house wasn’t very close to the area where Daisy Peters lived. She still had her own theory that the person who stole her car must have been local to know Daisy’s movements.

As they arrived, Jessica saw straight away there was a car parked on Benjamin Sturgess’s driveway. It was similar to the one that had been crashed, relatively new, dark in colour and powerful. Jessica knocked on the front door and rang the doorbell but there was no answer. The main curtains in the front window were open but netting prevented her from seeing much. Despite the car, it didn’t appear as if anyone was in. There was no gate preventing access so both officers walked through to the rear of the property where there was a small unkempt lawn and patchy grass. Jessica tried the side door but it was locked. Peering through the kitchen window revealed nothing except for the fact Mr Sturgess had the usual array of white goods.

The two detectives shrugged at each other. It was mid-afternoon so if the man did have a job, he could be at work, even though most people wouldn’t leave a car on the drive.

Jessica pointed to the neighbouring house. ‘You go knock on that door,’ she said to her colleague. ‘I’ll take the one on the other side. If we don’t get any luck we’ll go over the road. Just ask if they know the guy who lives next door and if they’ve seen him recently.’

Jessica walked to the adjacent house and pressed the doorbell. It sounded a loud old-fashioned ‘ding-dong’ and was soon answered by a woman who looked as if she had long since retired. She was short with grey curly hair and looked quizzically at Jessica. ‘I don’t buy anything,’ she muttered.

She had already started to close the door, so Jessica spoke quickly to say she was a police officer and took out her identification. After closely examining it, the woman introduced herself as Sue.

‘Is this about those people at number thirteen?’ she asked.

‘What people at number thirteen?’

‘I phoned you because of all the people they keep having over.’

Jessica looked at the woman with her eyebrows raised. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

Sue leant in. ‘I read about it in one of my magazines. I think they’re sex people.’ She spoke the word ‘sex’ quietly, as if embarrassed, although she was clearly relishing telling the story. Of all the doors she could have knocked on, Jessica realised she had stumbled across the local busybody. She wanted to steer the conversation around to the woman’s next door neighbour but she couldn’t get a word in.

‘They have all these cars parked up and down the road a couple of times a week,’ the woman continued. ‘They park in front of everyone’s house. The other week, someone parked outside mine at ten o’clock at night. I was watching from my top window and this couple got out. You should have seen what she was wearing.’

Against her better judgement, Jessica asked the question she knew she shouldn’t. ‘What was she wearing?’

Sue shook her head in mock indignation. ‘I did phone the police that night so you should know. She had these big boot things on. It was outrageous.’

‘Right, um . . .’

Seemingly oblivious to Jessica’s lack of enthusiasm, Sue was gleefully continuing her tale. ‘She and her husband, well I assume it was her husband, they walked over the road to number thirteen.’ She pointed behind Jessica, who looked around to see Dave crossing the road. ‘Anyway, I stayed up and watched all these couples parking up and they all went to the same house. They didn’t start leaving until one in the morning. Can you believe that?’

Jessica tried to make an interested noise but knew anything she said would be largely irrelevant as Sue kept speaking. ‘It’s been going on for weeks now. All these couples coming and going. It’s not right.’

‘Okay, well, I’ll look into the report but, from what you’ve said, I’m not sure it sounds like any offence has actually been committed.’

‘No offence? What do you mean?’

Jessica couldn’t tell if the woman was actually shocked or feigning it. ‘It does sound like it’s just a couple who have had friends around late at night. As long as they weren’t making a noise or causing a disturbance, I’m not sure there’s an awful lot we can actually do.’

Sue stared at Jessica as if unable to take in what she had been told. ‘Well, I never. And you’re a police officer?’

Jessica couldn’t be bothered explaining the nuances of what her role actually was. She pointed towards Benjamin Sturgess’s house. ‘I was wondering if you know much about your neighbour.’

Sue still seemed annoyed but her eyes lit up at being invited to gossip. ‘Benjamin? Ooh yes, he’s a very nice man. He painted my skirting boards for me.’

Jessica struggled not to laugh because of the obscure nature of the statement. She wondered if she would ever reach an age where painting skirting boards became a concern. ‘Have you seen him recently?’

‘Ooh, I can’t think . . .’ As the woman paused and looked to the skies, Jessica thought it would be her luck if the one thing the local busybody couldn’t remember was the only thing she actually needed to know. Just as Jessica thought she had lost five minutes of her life she would never be able to get back, Sue finally answered. ‘I don’t think I have, come to think of it. I don’t remember seeing him at all in the past week or so.’

‘Do you know if he usually leaves his car at home during the day?’

‘I don’t know. He does some writing but I think he does that from home.’

‘Does he have a wife or a—’

Jessica didn’t finish the sentence before the woman joyously interrupted. ‘He used to. I think they’re divorced, or separated. She doesn’t live there any more.’

‘I don’t suppose you have a contact address or phone number, do you?’ Jessica hadn’t expected anything but, to her surprise, the woman turned.

‘I think I do.’ She walked a few steps to a small desk just inside the front door and rummaged in a drawer, taking out a small hardback book and quickly flicking through the pages. She flipped the book around and handed it to Jessica. ‘Here, it’s Deborah. I think Benjamin gave it to me in case of an emergency.’

Jessica took the book and read the details, which had been written in neat spidery writing that she couldn’t decipher. ‘Can you read it back to me?’ she asked.

Sue recited the address and phone number, which Jessica typed into her own mobile.

After she had finished reading, Sue nodded towards Jessica’s phone. ‘Don’t even get me started on those things. All these kids today, talking on them all the time.’

Jessica wouldn’t have dared to start the woman off again but didn’t have much choice. She started taking small steps backwards but Sue seemed unperturbed.

‘I’m sorry, I really have to go,’ Jessica said as the woman muttered something about ‘not being like this in my day’.

Jessica turned and called across the road to Rowlands. Once she was back in his car, she called the number. The woman who answered confirmed her name was Deborah and that her ex-husband was Benjamin Sturgess, who had once been a teacher that went by the name ‘Ian’. She was at home and said it was fine for them to visit.

At hearing that, Jessica could feel the butterflies in her stomach, knowing they had found the right person. It wasn’t a long journey but Dave spent most of his time laughing at Jessica’s description of Sue. He didn’t even seem that interested in the apparent sex parties that were occurring on the street, which was perhaps the biggest indication to Jessica that her colleague was growing up.

After knocking on the woman’s door, Benjamin’s former wife introduced herself as ‘Deborah Sturgess’ and invited them in. Jessica would have guessed the woman to be somewhere in her late forties but her eyes were bright and youthful. She had greying hair that had been bleached blonde. It came down to her shoulders but had been tied into a ponytail. There was little point in wasting time so, after being offered seats in the living room, Jessica confirmed the details about who the woman’s husband was and where he lived. It was clear they were talking about the man that had years ago been vaguely linked to Toby Whittaker’s disappearance.

‘When was the last time you saw your ex-husband?’ Jessica asked.

The woman shook her head, speaking confidently. ‘Maybe a month? We divorced six years ago but are on okay terms. We see each other a few times a year, not often.’ Jessica wondered why the woman had kept her ex-husband’s last name but it wasn’t really appropriate to ask.

‘Have you had any contact at all since then, perhaps by phone?’

‘Not really. I’ve got a key for his house and go around sometimes when he’s away to open and close the curtains, that kind of thing. That’s not very often though.’

‘Does he work away? We’re trying to get hold of him but neighbours say they haven’t seen him recently.’

‘He works at home. He became a writer a few years ago after giving up teaching. That’s why he used his other name. You mentioned it on the phone. He’s always been known as “Ian” for the whole time I’ve known him. When he started writing, he went back to using his first name.’

‘I don’t suppose you know of some other way to contact him? We could do with speaking to him.’

‘Is it something serious?’

Jessica didn’t know the best answer to give, so offered the one the woman wanted to hear. ‘No.’

Deborah stood and started looking around. ‘Like I said, I’ve got a key for his house. He has one for here too. It’s here somewhere – it really isn’t like him to go missing. I’ll try his mobile first.’

At first she fumbled with her own mobile but after muttering something about being out of credit, Deborah walked across to a desk phone on a table at the back of the living room. She read a number from a list pinned to the wall and typed it in but looked up a few seconds later. ‘He’s not answering. I’ll have a look for the keys and we can go over. I hope he’s okay.’

She had almost left the room, when Jessica’s phone buzzed to say a message had arrived. She glanced at it and then turned to the other woman.

‘Mrs Sturgess. Could you look at this for me?’ Jessica flipped her phone around to show her the photo of the digital artist’s impression of the dead driver. Jessica could see Deborah nodding, a confused look on her face.

‘Yes, that’s Ian, is he okay?’

22

Rowlands went to speak but stopped himself, while Jessica didn’t know what to say. They had not only found out the identity of their driver – but because Benjamin Sturgess was included in the Toby Whittaker file, they had discovered a direct link to Isaac Hutchings. As with everything else, it threw up yet more questions. Jessica and Dave hadn’t even looked at each other, let alone spoken, but the look on their faces must have said it all. ‘Is something wrong?’ Deborah asked.

Jessica still wanted the woman to let them into her former husband’s house. Now he was dead and the prime suspect for Isaac’s abduction and murder, they would be able to get access to his property anyway – but the formalities and legal hoops would take longer than she wanted to wait. Not only that but if Benjamin had abducted Toby Whittaker fourteen years ago, Deborah would have been married to him at the time. She might well be the only witness to whatever had occurred in the past – or she could be involved. The time would come to let her in on what they knew but, for now, Jessica needed the woman’s help.

Thinking quickly and hoping Rowlands followed her lead, Jessica pocketed her phone. ‘No problem. We just need to find him.’

Deborah looked from Jessica to Rowlands before turning around and starting to hunt for the keys again. While her back was turned, the two detectives locked eyes and had a silent conversation where Jessica told her colleague she knew what they were doing wasn’t exactly by the book but he should trust her. Their non-verbal sparring was interrupted as Deborah turned around holding a key ring with two keys attached. Deborah said she wanted to take her own vehicle, so the three of them walked out of the house, only to be met by a man in his twenties walking down the driveway towards them. He appeared slightly confused as he saw the two officers but turned to Deborah, offering a cheery, ‘All right?’

Deborah finished locking the house before turning to face him properly. ‘I’m on my way out, dear. Come back later if you want.’

He nodded an acknowledgement before asking the question Jessica dreaded. ‘Is everything okay?’

Whether on purpose, she quickly allayed any problems. ‘No, it’s fine, nothing serious. I’ll be back later if you need me.’

The man said goodbye before turning and walking back to a car parked on the road. Before Jessica could walk away, Deborah added quietly, ‘That’s Stephen, he’s a friend of the family. Best not get him involved.’

Jessica wondered if the woman knew things weren’t quite right.

Throughout the journey to Benjamin Sturgess’s house, Jessica wondered how it could possibly be that Benjamin, or Ian, or whatever he was calling himself, could have been involved in both the Toby Whittaker disappearance and now Isaac’s fourteen years apart. From what Harry said, Toby had a close relationship with his teacher, which was the only tenuous link to that first case. Fourteen years on, that now-former teacher had been driving a car with a kidnapped dead child in the back.

The return drive to Benjamin Sturgess’s house took longer than it had the other way, traffic beginning to back up during the late afternoon and a frost already starting to settle as the sun went down. They parked on the road outside the house and Jessica could feel Sue watching them from the window next door. She didn’t dare look just in case the woman took it as a hint to come and get involved. She knew a larger search team would return to the property at some point in the near future but, for now, she wanted to get a feel of the person she had spent the past few weeks struggling to find.

Deborah unlocked the door and it was clear no one had been around for a while because of a pile of mail on the mat. Deborah stepped inside, collecting the letters before holding the door open for the two officers. She didn’t speak and Jessica knew she must now know something wasn’t quite right. Deborah sat on the stairs just inside the door and started to flick through the post as they walked past her into the living room.

Despite the length of time she had been in the job, every now and then Jessica caught herself thinking like a civilian. As she walked into Benjamin’s main room, an irrational feeling overtook her as she expected to find something that would ensure everything made sense. Maybe there would be a confession note or some obvious trace of either Toby or Isaac, or both? As it was, everything seemed normal. There was a flatscreen television on a cabinet, a sensible sandy-coloured carpet, regular cream walls, a leather sofa of the type which could be found in houses all around the country. Everything, including the photos on the wall, was just normal, normal, normal.

Jessica closed the living-room door behind her, leaving Deborah on the stairs as she and Rowlands strolled around the room. Her colleague spoke quietly. ‘It’s so . . .’

Jessica didn’t let him finish the sentence. ‘I know.’ She didn’t know what she expected to find from someone who may well have kept a secret for fourteen years.

On a side table midway inside the room, Jessica saw a wallet. She thought about how much easier things would have been if the man had picked it up on his way out those weeks ago. Had he forgotten it, or left it behind on purpose? She skimmed through its contents. Benjamin’s driving licence sat in a clear section at the front, with notes and receipts. Jessica checked each one just in case but, aside from a liking for fast food – and a bizarre obsession with keeping the receipts – there was nothing untoward. She returned the wallet to the table and continued to look around.

Rowlands was checking a bookshelf at the back of the room where another door opened into a kitchen. Jessica pushed it shut as her colleague started to speak quietly. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked. ‘What are we even looking for?’

‘I don’t know. You know what the search teams are like, they’ll tear this place apart, but sometimes, they’re so focused on the bigger picture of bodies under the patio and so on, they miss the little things. Look for anything that might connect him to the stolen car he was in, or the allotments. It’s got to link together somehow.’

‘If I find a spade in the shed does that count?’

‘No.’

Jessica had largely told the truth. She knew from experience things could get missed but if they stumbled across something then all the better.

Leaving Rowlands in the living room, Jessica walked into the kitchen. There were plenty of new-looking appliances but nothing she wouldn’t have expected. A second door from the kitchen looped back into the hallway and Jessica went through, finding Deborah still sitting on the stairs. She had placed the letters in two piles on the floor and, as Jessica entered, answered the question the detective hadn’t asked. ‘That one is junk, the other one is proper mail.’

‘I want to go upstairs for a bit if that’s okay?’ Jessica said, although she wasn’t really asking.

Deborah shuffled the mail out of the way. ‘Do you know how he is?’

‘I . . .’ Jessica stumbled but knew the time had come. Deborah was looking at her and she could see from the woman’s face she already knew the answer. ‘I’m afraid he’s dead, Mrs Sturgess.’ It was pretty brutal but Jessica had reached the point where she couldn’t continue to stall.

Deborah nodded gently, waving her hand towards the mail. She looked more resigned than shocked. ‘I knew something would be wrong when I saw all that. Even when we lived together, he would always pick up the post straight away and go through it. If we ever went on holiday, it would be the first thing he did when we got back, even above unpacking. Since we split, he’s never gone away without letting me know. Sometimes it would only be a few nights when he was off signing books. I think I probably knew something was wrong the moment you told me he’d gone missing.’

Jessica looked down at Deborah, wondering what her former husband was like. She had only seen him as a contorted body in the wake of a car crash but the woman in front of her actually knew him. She didn’t seem overly upset but they had been divorced for six years. Jessica blurted out the question without thinking. ‘Why did you keep your husband’s name, Mrs Sturgess?’

Deborah stared back. ‘Are you married?’

Jessica shook her head. ‘No.’

‘If you ever had been, you’d know how hard it is to get your name changed in the first place. You send forms off to banks, insurance companies, employers, the tax office, all sorts of people. Everyone needs to see the original marriage licence too, not just a copy. Believe me, if you ever change your name and go through that hassle, changing it back and going through it all again isn’t going to be high on your list of priorities.’

Deborah smiled slightly as she finished speaking before adding gently, ‘We didn’t break up on bad terms, everything just came to a natural end. Maybe if we’d had a bad break I would have been more interested in going back to my maiden name.’

Not for the first time in the past few weeks, Jessica wondered how many other ‘normal’ things simply passed her by. She had never really thought about it but just assumed that, once you were married, things such as changing your name were all done for you.

Deborah shuffled to one side of the stairs. ‘You go look around. I hope you find what you’re looking for.’

Jessica felt an obligation to make sure the woman was all right but wasn’t sure there was much else she could say. She stepped over the pile of letters and walked slowly up the stairs, careful not to miss a thing. At the top was a varnished wooden landing, Jessica’s footsteps echoing loudly as she walked across it. The upper level felt a degree or two cooler than downstairs. A few weeks had passed since she found Benjamin Sturgess in the front of that crashed car and the weather had certainly turned. Most people would now have their central-heating systems turned on during the day but this property had been empty for that time. Somehow the downstairs had kept a degree of warmth but Jessica pulled her jacket tighter around her as she struggled not to shiver.

She could feel a slight breeze and followed it to her left where a door stood ajar. It led into a bathroom where she saw a small window above the bath open a crack. Instinctively Jessica went to close it but stopped herself, wondering if, as implausible as it seemed, it could somehow prove crucial when the full search team came in. She closed the door behind her, walking back onto the wooden floor, conscious that each step she took could be heard downstairs. She was about to open another door when Rowlands called her. She went quickly down the stairs, into the living room. Rowlands was on the sofa holding two mobile phones.

‘Where were they?’ Jessica asked.

Rowlands crouched and pointed towards a small gap between the sofa and the side table where Jessica had found the wallet. ‘There are plug sockets down here. They were on the floor charging.’

‘Where’s Deborah?’

Rowlands shrugged. ‘I’ve not seen her.’ He handed one of the devices to Jessica. ‘What shall we do? Call the forensics team? They’ll want to look at these.’

Jessica took the phone from him. It looked a few years old, with a sliding front panel and none of the fresh innovations many of the new gadgets had. ‘So do I,’ she said, pushing the front upwards so she could access the keys.

Rowlands was holding a far newer model than the one Jessica had taken. She knew a few people who had two mobile phones; one was usually for work, the other was personal. She wondered why a writer would need two. When she was younger and worked in uniform, one of the constables had two phones. The first was the one everyone he knew had the number for, be it his girlfriend, colleagues, parents or friends. The second had a pre-pay SIM card in it and he only gave out the number to women he met while he was out.

Jessica weighed the object in her hand. She suspected any second number probably wasn’t used for giving out to women but wondered if the reason for Benjamin Sturgess having two phones was because of a similar type of duplicity.

She tried to find a call history but using an unfamiliar phone proved harder than she thought. It had taken her weeks to get used to her own and its various functions. After accidentally muting the device, then taking a photograph of the floor, Jessica found the contacts list but the italicised message made her even more convinced that she was on to something.

‘No contacts found’.

She found the call history similarly empty and there were no text messages in the inbox. Jessica was about to put the phone down when she noticed there was a ‘sent messages’ folder towards the bottom of a long list of options. She felt her stomach jump slightly as two messages appeared on the screen. Both were to the same number, the date matching the day Isaac Hutchings went missing.