Gone by Mo Hayder Read Free Book Online Page B

again. If it gets too much just tell me and I’ll stop.’
    The officer’s finger rested on the list of questions Caffery had prepared. She’d been briefed with what he wanted and she knew he wanted it fast. ‘You told the police officer before me that this man reminded you of someone. Someone out of a story?
    ‘I didn’t see his face. He had a mask on.’
    ‘But you told us something about his voice. It was a bit like someone’s . . . ?’
    ‘Oh, I know what you mean.’ Cleo half rolled her eyes, half smiled. Embarrassed by the words that had come out of her nine-year-old mouth just six months ago. ‘I said he was like Argus Filch out of Harry Potter. The one who’s got Mrs Norris. That’s who he sounded like.’
    ‘So shall we call him the Filch man?’
    She shrugged. ‘If you want, but he was worse than Argus Filch. I mean a lot worse.’
    ‘OK. How about we call him the – I don’t know – the caretaker? Argus Filch is the caretaker at Hogwarts, isn’t he?’ Caffery pushed himself away from the wall. He walked to the door, turned and walked back again. He knew the CAPIT officer had a protocol to follow but he wished she’d get a wriggle on. He turned at the window and crossed the room again. The CAPIT officer raised her chin and eyed him coolly, then went back to Cleo. ‘Yes, I think we’ll do that. We’ll call him the “caretaker”.’
    ‘Cool. Whatevs.’
    ‘Cleo, I want you do something for me. I want you to imagine that you’re back in that car on that morning. The morning thecaretaker got into your car. Now imagine it hasn’t happened yet. All right? You’re with Mum on the way to school. Can you picture that?’
    ‘OK.’ She half closed her eyes.
    ‘What do you feel?’
    ‘I feel happy. My first class is PE – it used to be my favourite – and I’m going to wear my new gym T-shirt.’
    Caffery watched the CAPIT officer’s face. He knew what she was doing. This was the cognitive interviewing technique a lot of the force was using these days. The interviewer took the subject back to the way they were feeling when the incident happened. It was supposed to open up the channels and let the facts flow.
    ‘Great,’ she said. ‘So obviously you’re not wearing the gym T-shirt yet?’
    ‘No. I’m wearing my summer dress. With a cardie over it. My gym shirt was in the boot. We never got it back. Did we, Mum?’
    ‘Never.’
    ‘Cleo, this is difficult but imagine it’s the “caretaker” driving now.’
    Cleo took a breath. She screwed her eyes tighter shut and her hands came up to her chest. Rested there lightly.
    ‘Good. Now, you remember his jeans. Mum says you especially remember his jeans – with loops on them. When he was driving could you see those jeans?’
    ‘Not all of them. He was sitting down.’
    ‘He was in the seat in front of you. Where Dad usually sits?’
    ‘Yes. And if Dad’s sitting there I can’t see all his legs.’
    ‘What about his hands? Could you see them?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘And what do you remember about them?’
    ‘He had on them funny gloves.’
    ‘
Those
funny gloves . . .’ Simone corrected.
    ‘Those funny gloves. Like at the dentist’s.’
    The CAPIT officer glanced up at Caffery, who was still pacing. He was thinking about gloves. The CSI’s report on the Blunts’ Yaris hadn’t turned up any DNA at all. And the guy was wearinggloves in the CCTV footage at the exit barrier. Forensically aware, then. Bloody great.
    ‘Anything else?’ she asked. ‘Were they big? Small?’
    ‘Medium. Like Dad’s.’
    ‘And quite important now,’ the officer continued slowly, ‘can you remember where his hands were?’
    ‘On the steering-wheel.’
    ‘Always on the steering-wheel?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘They never came off it?’
    ‘Umm . . .’ Cleo opened her eyes. ‘No. Not until he stopped and let me out.’
    ‘He leaned past you and opened the door from the inside?’
    ‘No. He tried to open it but Mum’s child lock was on. He had to get