morning. I left for work at about eight thirty and she was still here, but when I got home she wasn’t.’
‘And that was unusual?’
‘She nearly always got home before me. I work longer hours.’
‘Did she say she was going out after work? Maybe you didn’t hear her when she told you. Maybe you were distracted. We all live busy lives, Mr Russell,’ Sean suggested. ‘My wife reckons I only hear about a third of what she actually says.’
‘No,’ Russell insisted. ‘We don’t live like that. If she’d been going somewhere or if she was going to be late she would have made sure I knew and I would have remembered. This is all a waste of time anyway. She didn’t go out for a night out with her friends and she hasn’t run off with another man. If you knew her, you wouldn’t think that, you’d be looking for her.’
‘We are looking for her,’ Sean reassured him. ‘That’s why we’re here and that’s why I have to ask some difficult questions.’ Russell didn’t respond. ‘Even the people closest to us sometimes have secrets. If we can find out any secrets Louise had then maybe we can find her.’
‘Louise didn’t have secrets from me,’ Russell insisted.
‘What about you from her?’ Sally asked clumsily. It was a question that needed to be put, but not now. Not yet.
Sean swallowed his frustration with Sally. ‘Maybe something that seemed innocent to you, but that you didn’t want her to know, something that might have upset her enough to make her want to be alone for a few days?’
‘Such as?’ Russell asked.
‘Anything,’ Sean answered. ‘An old girlfriend contacting you or a large bill you’ve been hiding from her because you didn’t want her to worry about it. Maybe she thought it was a breach of trust.’
‘No,’ Russell slammed the door of possibility shut. ‘There are no old girlfriends, no money worries. We’re careful.’
Sean took a few seconds to consider before making his final judgement. Russell had nothing to do with his wife’s disappearance and couldn’t help Sean find her. There would be no secret lover and she wasn’t going to return in a couple of days telling anyone who would listen that she’d needed a little time alone. Something terrible had happened to her, something beyond her husband’s imagination, beyond almost everyone’s imagination. But not Sean’s.
Despite the warmth of the central heating Sean felt the hairs on his arms and neck begin to tingle and rise. He found himself looking back towards the front door. He saw the faceless silhouette of a man coming through the door, knocking Louise Russell to the ground, somehow overpowering her and taking her, dragging her from her own home, the place she felt safest.
He didn’t know how many seconds he’d been absent for when Sally’s voice dragged him back.
‘Guv’nor?’
‘What?’ he replied like a man caught daydreaming.
‘Anything else we need to know?’
‘Yes …’ Sean turned to Russell. ‘You said her car was missing too?’
‘That’s right,’ Russell answered. ‘That was when I realized something was wrong, when I saw her car wasn’t on the drive. I just had a bad feeling. Then I came inside and found her handbag and phone, but she wasn’t here. I’ve already given your colleagues a description of her car and registration number.’ Sean glanced at Sally, who confirmed with a quick nod of her head. ‘Is there anything else you need?’ Russell asked tiredly.
‘No,’ Sean told him. It was obvious the guy had had enough of giving the same answers to the same questions. ‘You’ve been really helpful, thanks.’ Russell said nothing. ‘If I could just ask you to try and avoid the hallway by the front door as much as possible until I can get our forensics people to have a look at it.’ Russell looked at him accusingly. ‘I like to be sure,’ Sean reassured him. ‘Check every possibility.’
‘If you think it’s necessary,’ Russell agreed.
‘Thank you,’ Sean said. ‘And one last thing, before I forget. Who is her best friend? Who would she confide in?’
‘Me,’ Russell told them. ‘She would confide in me.’
Sean and Sally heard the door close softly behind them as they walked down the Russells’ driveway without looking back. Sally spoke quietly: ‘Well?’
‘He’s got nothing to do with it and he can’t help us find her any more than he already has. We both know she hasn’t run away, not without her bag and phone.’
‘We’re not all addicted to handbags,’ Sally reprimanded him, holding out her arms to indicate the absence of a bag.
‘Phone?’ Sean asked, indicating the mobile clutched in Sally’s guilty hand.
‘OK,’ Sally conceded. ‘So what happened?’
‘I don’t know yet,’ Sean answered. ‘He either did her in the hallway by the front door and took her body away in her own car, or he took her alive.’
‘He?’ Sally challenged. ‘You sound like you already know him.’ Sean merely shrugged in reply. ‘So what next?’ she continued.
‘I need you to get hold of Roddis. Have him examine the house properly, concentrating on the hallway, front door, etc. The scene, if it is one, has been well and truly trampled, but you never know your luck. And make sure her car details are circulated if they haven’t been already, then get them marked for forensic preservation – that won’t have been done yet, you can put your mortgage on it.’
‘I’ll see to it,’ Sally assured him while following his eyeline across the street to the house he was staring at. ‘Something I should know?’
‘A twitching curtain,’ Sean told her. ‘When we first pulled up, someone was watching us. The question is, why?’ He started walking towards the house, offering no explanation. Sally followed.
Sean used the doorbell this time and waited impatiently – he already knew someone was at home. There was no glass in the front door, just a spyhole. Clearly the occupier preferred security to natural light. Sean noticed the pristine Neighbourhood Watch sticker attached to the inside of the front-room window. He went to press the doorbell again, but delayed when he felt a presence on the other side of the wooden barrier. They listened as at least two good, heavy deadbolts were withdrawn. Not many people used security like that when they were at home and awake.
The door fell back into the warm house revealing an elderly man in his late sixties or early seventies. He was still quite tall, about Sean’s height, and he held his back straight military-style, although Sean doubted he’d ever actually been a soldier. He wore smart grey trousers and a brown cardigan over a blue shirt that contrasted with the reddening skin pulled over his bony, angular face. His hair was grey and wavy, but still had traces of the blond that had only recently deserted him. He knew who they were but asked them anyway: ‘Who are you and what do you want?’
Sean had already formed a dislike to him. Sally had no opinion; to her he was one more face, one more witness to be spoken to, assessed and categorized before she
