Behind Dead Eyes (DC Ian Bradshaw #2) - Howard Linskey Page 0,149

like everybody else. What an idiot.’

‘That is so cold,’ Helen shook her head in disbelief, ‘if he killed her.’

‘Maybe he didn’t do it himself; maybe someone else did it but she died because Diane told her secret to Sandra. That much I am certain of. It’s too big a coincidence.’

‘Agreed,’ said Bradshaw, ‘so now let’s sweat the bastard.’

Chapter Fifty-Three

They drove quickly and Bradshaw explained why he was breaking every speed limit along the way: ‘He could run. They do sometimes if they are fenced in. He might even have run already.’

‘Why would he run?’ asked Helen. ‘He doesn’t know we are on to him.’

‘Dean will have called Frank Jarvis the moment I took Callie away. Jarvis knows I’ve been asked to help Tom locate his daughter so I doubt he’ll believe the story about the shoplifting gang, do you?’

‘I’m not convinced he’ll run,’ said Tom. ‘It will be the word of one respectable pillar of the local community against a teenager who has been in trouble with the police for most of her young life.’

‘There’s the photograph,’ Bradshaw reminded him.

‘But he doesn’t know we’ve got that. If he knew about the photograph, wouldn’t he have found it before now?’

‘Maybe.’ But he still overtook the car in front of him at speed. ‘Let’s not leave it to chance. The one thing I have learned is that nobody really knows for sure what anyone will do under pressure.’

Their thoughts turned to Annie Bell then, and no one contradicted Bradshaw.

They were thankful for fine weather and light traffic, which combined to make their journey to Newcastle an easy one. Bradshaw didn’t even bother to park outside Frank Jarvis’s house, he simply halted the car in the middle of the road and the three of them got out. The detective banged on the door.

Frank’s wife answered. ‘Is he in, Mrs Jarvis?’ asked Tom.

‘No.’ Her head lolled slightly as she took in each of them sluggishly.

‘Then would you mind telling us where he is?’ Bradshaw didn’t try to disguise his impatience with her.

She looked at Tom then. ‘Where do you think he is?’

They had to leave Bradshaw’s car outside the Methodist chapel and trek on foot up to the allotments. Bradshaw had a strong premonition he wouldn’t be there. He was convinced Frank Jarvis knew everything they had been doing and he’d fled, so he would never have to face them or the truth. Bradshaw was mentally preparing himself for the manhunt that would follow Frank Jarvis’s disappearance, then they rounded a corner and there the man was, sitting on a bench as if all was well in the world.

‘What’s this?’ asked Jarvis, his suspicions immediately aroused by the presence of all three of them. Maybe Dean had not been able to get hold of the politician to warn him if he had been here for a while. No one answered, just continued to walk towards him.

Bradshaw wordlessly handed him the envelope. Jarvis looked at him expecting an explanation, but when he received none he opened it. He slid the photograph out, looked at it for a second and his eyes widened in shock. The photo fell to the floor.

‘It’s all over, Frank,’ Bradshaw told him. ‘We know everything.’

‘That’s not me,’ Jarvis managed, but the shock of seeing himself in such a damning photograph, whose existence he clearly wasn’t aware of, was affecting his ability to lie with any credibility.

‘How many of those girls have you raped over the years, Frank?’ asked Tom.

‘No,’ gasped Jarvis then he contradicted his claim of mistaken identity, jabbing a stubby finger at the photo: ‘That’s a fake, is that.’

‘We have a credible witness who says otherwise,’ Bradshaw explained as Jarvis continued his panicked denials, ‘someone who can confirm you have been going to Meadowlands and abusing those girls for a long time.’

‘Dean is a liar!’ shouted Jarvis.

‘Is he?’ asked Bradshaw. ‘One of my colleagues is on the way to arrest him right now. Something tells me he is likely to fold under questioning. I wouldn’t want to rely on a man like Dean to back me up. He’ll sell you straight down the river.’

If possible, Jarvis looked even more panicked. ‘I haven’t done anything. This is blackmail! Someone is trying to ruin me! Who took this picture? Can’t you see it’s a fake?’

They let him ramble on then and the denials kept coming, interspersed with wild accusations. He was not a child rapist, he didn’t know anything about any girls at Meadowlands, this was blackmail, someone was trying to