fireman in civilian clothes and Callie immediately said, ‘Never seen him before either.’
Helen reached for the last photograph and placed it in Callie’s lap. The sly face of Councillor Joe Lynch looked out at them from the picture. Callie leaned even further forward now and stared at the face intently. Both Helen and Tom held their breaths.
‘No,’ she said simply, ‘it ain’t him neither.’
‘You’re sure?’ asked Helen disbelievingly.
‘Don’t you know who that is?’ demanded Tom with a stern enough tone to ensure that Callie took a second look. Perhaps she thought he was about to deny her the money.
She took a long hard look and confirmed the worst of their fears: ‘No, it’s not him. Definitely not. I’d know the guy who hurts us anywhere.’ And when neither Helen nor Tom could think of anything to say at that she protested loudly, ‘I would!’
‘Alright, Callie,’ Tom held up a weary hand, ‘we believe you.’ And he looked at Helen in disbelief. He did believe the girl, but all of their theories involving McCree, Camfield and Lynch were wrong. He knew Helen was thinking the same thing. Where the hell could they go from here?
‘What now?’ asked Helen helplessly.
‘I don’t know.’ Tom sounded desolate. He slumped back into his chair and closed his eyes. ‘Get her home, I suppose.’ If you could call it home, he thought.
‘It’s late,’ Helen said to Callie, ‘we’d better get you back.’
‘Dean won’t care,’ said Callie, ‘as long as I’m earning,’ and she looked at Tom significantly. He reached for his wallet and handed her the money she’d been promised.
‘You can tell Dean it’s from your usual contacts,’ he said.
‘I’ll tell him what I like,’ she said firmly. She stuffed it in a pocket then got to her feet and stood there impatiently.
Helen and Tom took longer to rise, for they were both devastated. Tom had been convinced that Diane’s flight from Meadowlands was linked to the disappearance of Sandra Jarvis and that, in turn, Joe Lynch’s connection to Meadowlands and his friendship with McCree and Camfield must have played a part here. He’d been convinced they had somehow used Frank Jarvis’s daughter to get what they needed.
Tom fumbled in the wrong pocket for his car keys then found them in the next pocket. He fished them out, just as Callie spoke.
‘That’s him!’ she said firmly. ‘That is definitely him.’ She was staring down at the coffee table where Helen had placed the photographs.
Tom immediately felt a surge of anger towards Callie, for she was obviously messing them around now. She’d already had a long look at the photographs then denied any of the men were responsible. Now, moments later, she claimed it was one of them.
‘Come off it, Callie, we’re not bloody stupid,’ he told her.
‘It’s him!’ She was animated now.
‘You just said it wasn’t any of them,’ Helen answered sharply. She was even beginning to think there might be some truth in what Dean had said about not being able to trust a word these vulnerable girls said.
‘I’m telling you, that’s him!’ She pointed down at the table and was so angry now that Tom paused.
‘Who,’ he demanded, ‘which one of them?’
His aggressive tone seemed to aggravate her. ‘It’s none of them!’ she shouted. ‘It’s him!’
Tom and Helen followed the direction of Callie’s finger and both of them realised the truth at exactly the same time. Callie was not pointing at any of the photographs but at something else close by, the folded copy of the local paper Tom had left there that morning. Looking up at them from a half section of the front page was the picture of Councillor Frank Jarvis appealing for information on his missing daughter. ‘He’s the one!’ shrieked Callie.
She grabbed the paper, turned it towards them, jabbed a finger into Frank Jarvis’s face and said, ‘That’s him!’
Chapter Fifty
‘Callie,’ asked Tom, ‘are you absolutely sure about this?’ but he could tell by the look in her eyes she was certain. ‘Do you know who that man is?’
‘He’s one of the bosses I’ve been telling you about. He gives Freak Boy money to let him in,’ she explained. ‘He’s been doing it for years, since before I was there.’
Tom and Helen looked at one another in disbelief then they glanced back at Callie.
‘You’re certain it’s this man?’ demanded Tom.
‘Yes.’
‘And he makes you do things?’ asked Helen.
‘Yeah,’ Callie said quietly, ‘s’pose.’
‘You suppose?’ questioned Tom, gently. ‘He either makes you do things or he doesn’t, Callie?’
‘He makes us do stuff! If we