‘You did the right thing by telling us,’ DI Morgan said. ‘In cases like this, you never know what could be important. Any odd behaviour could be relevant. If you come across any other information, don’t be afraid to let us know.’
Jackie looked somewhat reassured. ‘Right, I will.’ She took a deep breath and glanced beyond Karen to the window. ‘Let’s hope the girls are home before dark.’
Karen shivered. There wasn’t much chance of that now. The sky was already tinged with red and the sun was dipping close to the horizon. The sun set early at this time of year.
They thanked Jackie for her assistance and made their way to the main entrance. The forensics team would soon be here, and although there was little point in scouring the classrooms for trace evidence, the officers would need access to the playground area. Jackie had told them she didn’t mind staying at the school for however long they needed. She wouldn’t feel right going home to her warm, comfortable house when she knew the two girls were still out there somewhere, cold and alone.
DI Morgan and Karen walked straight past the small group of journalists gathered by the school gates. It wouldn’t be long before the national press were here. Superintendent Murray was organising a statement, and it would be up to her and the other members of the gold command to decide whether to set up a child alert. It was a difficult decision.
On the surface, it seemed like the logical thing to do. Alerting the general public through social media meant people would be vigilant and on the lookout, but every time a child alert was issued, the response from the general public was overwhelming. The manpower it took to sift through all the responses was astronomical. No call or tip could be overlooked, just in case, and right now, they wanted the phone lines free so any genuine sightings would get reported immediately.
Karen was glad the decision wasn’t hers to make.
‘No comment,’ she muttered as they made their way past the photographers’ flashing cameras.
DI Morgan stared stonily ahead as he marched towards the car.
The image of Thomas Gibson, looking crumpled, dishevelled and bewildered as he arrived to collect his wife was fixed in Karen’s mind. Hopefully, the families would have some peace before the press worked out where they lived.
‘We should pay George Barrows a visit first,’ DI Morgan said as they approached the car. ‘Would you mind driving? I want to call in and see how Rick’s managing with collating all the information.’
‘No problem. After we’ve spoken to George Barrows, I thought it might be worth paying Nigel Palmer a visit,’ Karen said as she took the keys and slipped into the driver’s seat.
Before Karen had a chance to explain further, DI Morgan said, ‘Nigel Palmer? He was one of the suspects in the Amy Fisher case, wasn’t he?’
Karen tried to hide her shock. It wasn’t easy to get much past DI Morgan. He hadn’t even been in Lincolnshire at the time of Amy Fisher’s disappearance, but he’d obviously made it his business to familiarise himself with the case.
‘Yes, that’s right. He owns farmland bordering Moore Lane Primary School. It’s possible the girls walked through the small copse and on to his land. He’s got various outbuildings too. It can’t hurt to have a word with him.’
DI Morgan fastened his seatbelt. ‘Maybe so. I wouldn’t rule anything out at this stage, but I think it’s more important to bring everyone up to date with a briefing at the station after we talk to George Barrows.’
Karen tried to suppress the annoyance she felt, but she wasn’t fast enough. She saw from DI Morgan’s sober expression that he’d picked up on her irritation.
‘Right,’ he said as Karen indicated and pulled away from the kerb, ‘why do you think it’s important to visit Nigel Palmer before the briefing? From what I know of him, he’s an old man, and the missing girls are much younger than Amy Fisher. What makes you think paying him a visit would be a better use of police resources than attending the first case briefing?’
‘He’s got a lot of outbuildings,’ Karen stubbornly repeated. ‘There are ditches on his land too. Emily and Sian may have been playing and . . .’ Karen trailed off and then let out a long breath. She was losing this argument. How did she explain she wanted to talk to him because she’d always felt there was something not quite right about the Palmer family? That wouldn’t go down well with her new boss. He didn’t seem like a man to base his judgement calls on feelings.
She shot a quick sideways glance at DI Morgan. ‘It wouldn’t take long. We could ask him and his family to keep an eye out for the girls.’
‘DC Cooper has already made a point of calling the landowners in the area and asking people to be alert and on the lookout for two young girls,’ DI Morgan said reasonably. ‘He requested people check barns and outbuildings and search any location where two young children could hide.’
For some reason, his practical and logical approach aggravated Karen, but it wasn’t DI Morgan’s fault. She was really annoyed with herself and the fact she couldn’t explain her hunch.
Even without any evidence, she knew Nigel Palmer was a nasty piece of work. Her senses were screaming out a warning. It was too much of a coincidence for two more girls to go missing not long after Amy Fisher had vanished. Karen hadn’t known DI Morgan for long, but she already understood he wouldn’t be swayed by talk of gut instinct. He was a man who liked to deal with facts.
Karen tried a more logical direction for her next argument. ‘There’s no evidence against him, sir. But I think the man’s hiding something. When we were looking into Amy Fisher’s disappearance, several people in the village had stories to tell about how badly he treats his own kids.’
DI Morgan nodded as they headed along Station Road. ‘I’m not saying that Nigel Palmer is a good man, but we need to prioritise, DS Hart. If it would make you feel better, we can have uniform pay him a visit sooner rather than later.’
‘It’s not a question of making me feel better, sir.’ Karen’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as she fought the urge to snap at her boss.
The worst thing was, DI Morgan wasn’t wrong. He made a good, valid point, and Karen was letting the emotion of the case get the better of her.
She sensed him watching her, but she kept her head still, her eyes fixed on the road.
‘This is where Dennis Dean lives,’ Karen said, slowing the car.
She parked at the end of the cracked driveway and looked up at the narrow, semi-detached house. ‘His father owns the property, but he’s moved in with Jolene Parkinson, who lives a few doors down.’
They walked towards the house, stepping over the weeds growing through the cracks in the concrete.
DI Morgan pointed to the path that led along the side of the house. ‘Does that lead out on to open fields?’
‘No, there’s just a bit of scrubland and the new housing estate further back. Beyond that, it’s farmland.’
‘Who does the farmland belong to? Not Nigel Palmer?’
Karen shook her head. ‘No, the fields are part of Morrisons’ farm. But George has his caravan on the small bit of scrubland at the back of the house. The Council have had a few complaints, but most people around here feel sorry for him.’