I called. It was the presence of the boy that convinced me.”
Something about the doctor’s account didn’t feel right to Ingrid. Why would Foster risk taking Tommy to a hospital? He must have known Carrie would get the police involved. He had to have realized by then he was a wanted man. “You said he seemed concerned,” Ingrid said.
The doctor nodded.
“In your medical opinion, do you think he could have been suffering from the effects of post traumatic stress disorder?”
“I’m not expert in the field, I can’t really say…”
“How about you give us your best professional guess?” Gurley said.
“Well, if you’re forcing me to make an assessment…” He glanced at Gurley uncertainly.
“Please—if you wouldn’t mind.” Ingrid wished Gurley would wipe the frown off his face and sit down. He was clearly spooking their witness.
“If you’d asked me that yesterday, I would have said he just seemed like an anxious parent, worried about his son. Without hesitation.”
“But now?”
“Now I know what the man is capable of, it puts his behavior in a whole different light. Maybe he was worried about getting caught. Maybe that’s why he seemed so twitchy.”
Gurley pushed himself from the wall and stepped toward the doctor, his eyes narrowing. But before he could say anything, there was a loud knock on the door.
“Come in,” Obermast said quickly, clearly relieved the interruption had stopped Gurley in his tracks.
The door opened and a nurse dressed in an old-fashioned pinafore dress hovered in the doorway. “So sorry, Daniel, I really didn’t want to disturb you, but things are getting a little hectic out there.” She threw an apologetic smile in Gurley’s direction. “We really need you back on duty.”
“I have to go. Was there anything else?”
“Do you think the boy is in danger?” Gurley asked.
The doctor nodded regretfully. “I just wish I’d known about the situation at the time. No way would I have let him take that child anywhere.”
14
On their way back to the embassy, Ingrid called Radcliffe to let him know what Obermast had told them. She had to hold her cell away from her ear during his rant about agreed protocol being ‘willfully ignored’ and how she should understand it was imperative his team were kept in the loop at all times. “It’s not your bollocks on the chopping board, Agent Skyberg.”
“We do all want the same thing here.”
“Really? You’re not more interested in point scoring?”
Ingrid decided it was time to do a little ranting herself. “If you think for one second that anyone is treating this as some sort of competition, then you are sorely mistaken. Feel free to make an official complaint about my conduct with the embassy.”
Gurley raised his eyebrows and gave her a silent round of applause.
“Dr Obermast and the other clinic staff are ready to speak to your officers, just as soon as they arrive.” A moment after she ended the call her phone rang. She glanced at the screen. It was Angela Tate, the demon journalist of Blackfriars Road. Ingrid dismissed the call.
When they got back to the office they found Jennifer standing behind her desk as if she’d been waiting for them to arrive. “I thought we could go through Kyle Foster’s last known movements,” she said, and pointed to a pile of rolled paper tubes. “I got hold of Ordinance Survey maps of the Greater London area all the way to the M25,” she explained. “Plus satellite images of the same region in various resolutions.”
“Paper maps?”
“It’s quicker than setting up a projector and booking a conference room. Sol requested we go low-tech—he likes maps he can draw all over.”
“Where is Sol?”
“He said he’ll be here soon.”
“We’re assuming Foster’s still in the area?” Gurley asked.
“We have to start somewhere,” Jennifer said.
Gurley started to unfold the maps, while Jennifer unrolled the satellite images.
Once the first map had been smoothed flat on one of the unoccupied desks, Jennifer stuck bright yellow stars onto the few positive sighting locations: the laundromat in King’s Cross, the London Aquarium and London Eye on the South Bank and St Thomas’ hospital, less than half a mile away.
“Should I add one to University College Hospital?” She looked from Gurley to Ingrid.
“Radcliffe’s team will check the CCTV footage from inside the building and the surrounding streets,” Ingrid said. “It’s possible we’ll never know whether or not it was Kyle Foster in Molly’s room.”
“So what do we have?” Gurley asked, walking around the desk, staring at the map.
“After they left the hotel, Kyle and Tommy Foster walked just around the