elevator doors opened on the eleventh floor of UCH, Ingrid and Gurley stepped out into the lobby area to discover DCI Radcliffe speaking to a constable in uniform, a grave expression on his face. They waited until he was done before approaching.
“Chief inspector,” Ingrid smiled as she strode toward him. “I’m a little surprised to see you here,” she said.
“Why wouldn’t I be here?” His tone was unmistakably defensive. He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned toward her.
“I thought you would have handed over the day to day running to a deputy by now.” In Ingrid’s experience most of the investigative work was done by a team of detective constables led by a detective sergeant or inspector.
“Not this case. Too high profile.”
Ingrid glanced behind her as the elevator doors opened again. “The press haven’t arrived here yet?”
“I’m in the process of posting officers at the bottom of all the stairways and on each of the lifts on the ground floor, checking visitors’ credentials. I’m not having those vultures roaming around, upsetting people.”
“Good, you might want to look out for a woman in her fifties with frizzy hair wearing a raincoat and shiny knee-length boots.”
“Tate’s here?”
“You know her?”
“It’s hard to avoid the woman.”
Gurley cleared his throat noisily then made a point of looking at the oversized diver’s watch on his wrist.
“We really need to speak to Mrs Foster again,” Ingrid said.
“She’s in with Molly. I don’t want her disturbed.”
“It wouldn’t take longer than five minutes.”
“I suppose you’ve heard about the sighting in the launderette yesterday?”
Ingrid nodded. “We’d like to speak to Carrie about Tommy’s injury.”
“So would we.”
“You haven’t yet?”
“She’s only just back from the press conference, for God’s sake. She needs time with her daughter.”
“How is Molly?”
“No change. Which the doctors are taking as a good sign, apparently.”
“We can wait to speak to her,” Gurley said, much to Ingrid’s surprise. “If Tommy sustained his injury after he left the hotel, it could mean Kyle Foster poses a greater threat than we thought.”
“You think we haven’t worked that out for ourselves?”
“So why wait to speak to her?” Ingrid asked.
Radcliffe bit his top lip as he considered Ingrid’s question. “I’ll get the FLO to bring Mrs Foster out in ten minutes. I’m not questioning her at Molly’s sick bed.
Fifteen minutes later Radcliffe, Ingrid and Gurley were sitting in a cramped room tucked away at the end of a long corridor, opposite Carrie Foster who now looked so pale her skin appeared almost translucent.
“Thank you for speaking to us again, Mrs Foster,” Radcliffe said. “I realize reliving your ordeal this morning in front of all those people had to be very hard for you.” He leaned in a little closer to her. “Something new has come to light that I really need to speak to you about.”
The woman searched the detective’s face. “What?”
“Can you recall whether or not Tommy was struggling when Kyle grabbed him yesterday morning?”
Carrie Foster widened her bloodshot eyes. “Why? What’s happened?” She held onto the sleeve of Radcliffe’s jacket. “Have you found him?”
“Please, there’s no need to be alarmed. We haven’t located Tommy, not yet. But we have received some information from someone who believes they saw Tommy and your husband yesterday.”
“Did he seem OK?”
“The eye witness said she saw blood on Tommy’s face.”
“Oh my God!” Mrs Foster raised a hand to her mouth. “How bad is it?”
“It really doesn’t seem to be that serious. Please—I’m sure there’s no need to worry yourself about it.”
“How can you say that?” She jumped to her feet.
Ingrid stood too. “Please, Carrie. What you tell us now could really help us find Tommy faster. We all want that.”
Mrs Foster’s gaze dropped to the floor and she sank back onto her chair. “My poor baby.”
“Can you remember if Tommy was hurt before he left the hotel room?” Ingrid asked her, keeping her voice quiet and gentle.
Foster continued to stare at the floor. She started to shake her head slowly. “I don’t think so. Kyle just scooped him into his arms. Tommy didn’t struggle. Why would he? He loves his daddy. I’m pretty sure he was OK. I would have noticed if he’d had blood on his face, I’m certain.” She fell silent for a moment then stared up at Ingrid, a look of panic on her face. “Does that mean Kyle has hurt him since then? Is that what you’re saying?”
“We don’t know that for sure. Maybe he had an accident.” Even as Ingrid said the words she realized just how unconvincing they