They knocked on the front door and waited for a while, but there was no answer. As the side gate was unlocked, they made their way to the back of the house, walking along the crumbling path.
‘I wonder when they last cut the grass,’ DI Morgan said as the back garden came into view.
It wasn’t just the grass that was too long. The whole garden was overgrown. An old washing machine covered in patches of rust was dumped next to the neighbours’ green wire fence. Although it was now almost dark, grey-tinged vests and underpants hung limply on the washing line.
They ducked under the line, and once they had rounded the ramshackle garden shed, they could see that the fence at the back of the garden had been taken down to allow access to the caravan.
George Barrows’s home was small and not exactly top of the range. Karen doubted it could be towed away in one piece. The white paint was cracked and peeling, and the entire caravan leaned to one side. A dirty net curtain which sagged in the middle was pulled across a steamed-up window.
DI Morgan turned to Karen. ‘Ready?’ he asked, raising his fist to bang on the door.
Karen nodded and held her breath. Her previous encounters with George Barrows had not been pleasant, and she wasn’t looking forward to this one.
CHAPTER SIX
The caravan lurched and squealed in protest as they heard movement from inside. The door squeaked on its hinges as it opened, and George Barrows, known locally as Odd George, peered out, looking suspiciously at DI Morgan.
When his gaze fell on Karen, he relaxed a little bit and rolled his eyes. ‘Oh, it’s you. What am I supposed to have done this time?’
His nicotine-stained fingers scratched his grey stubble.
‘Put a shirt on, George,’ Karen said, nodding at his baggy vest. ‘We want to talk to you, and we’re not going to do it in there.’ She pointed at the cramped, dark interior of the caravan.
George hesitated as though he were considering refusing just to make their life difficult, but in the end he shrugged and went back inside to grab his top.
‘There’s no sign of Dennis,’ Karen said softly so George wouldn’t overhear.
DI Morgan understood her meaning straightaway. ‘If he really thought George was involved, I’d expect Dennis Dean to be here trying to shake the truth out of the man.’
‘Exactly.’
They stood back as George climbed down the steps of his caravan and shut the door behind him. He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his grubby trousers and lit one.
‘Go on then, what’s all this about?’ he asked.
‘We want to talk to you about two little girls, George. Sian Gibson and Emily Dean went missing from school a few hours ago.’
The look of shock on George’s face was either genuine, or he was a brilliant actor. Knowing George as she did, Karen guessed the former.
‘Jesus, Dennis’s little girl? Has his father heard about this?’ George rubbed his stubbly chin and looked towards the house.
‘Do you know anything about it, George? Because if you do, you’d better tell us now before you get into any more trouble.’
The shock vanished from George’s face and was replaced by an expression of absolute fury. He gestured wildly, waving his hand holding the lit cigarette close to Karen’s face. ‘What are you suggesting?’
‘Stop waving that cigarette around,’ DI Morgan snapped.
George froze. The calm, gently spoken detective inspector sounded furious, and even a little frightening.
George took a step back. ‘Well, you can’t just come here and suggest I’d know something about that. I’d never hurt a little girl.’
‘Maybe you didn’t intend to hurt them, maybe you just wanted to hide them away somewhere to teach Emily’s dad a lesson,’ Karen suggested.
George frowned, his forehead puckering. ‘But why would I do that? I get on well with Dennis. His dad’s been ever so good to me and—’ George broke off and then a grin spread over his face. ‘Very cunning.’ He chuckled to himself. ‘Oh yes, very cunning.’
‘If you continue to muck around when two little girls are missing, I’m going to be very tempted to forget about police protocol.’ DI Morgan almost growled the words.
George’s face fell, and he quickly said, ‘You don’t understand. I don’t mean to laugh, but well – can’t you see?’ He turned to Karen. ‘He’s playing you. Look, I’m no grass and I don’t wanna get Dennis in no trouble. But if what you say is true and his little girl is missing, then this could be important.’
‘Spit it out, George,’ Karen said.
‘You know as well as I do that Dennis has no time for the police. If he thinks his little girl’s in danger, then he’s gonna go after whoever he thinks has taken her. He’s not gonna be honest with you, is he?’
George was only saying exactly what they already suspected, but short of assigning a unit to track Dennis, there wasn’t much they could do. Persuading a career criminal to trust them was no easy task.
‘All right, so where is Dennis?’ DI Morgan asked. ‘Why did he mention your name?’
‘Probably to keep you busy and out of his way,’ George replied with a smug smile.
‘He wants us occupied so he can go after the person he really thinks has taken Emily,’ Karen said.
George nodded confidently. ‘Got it in one, PC Hart.’
Karen didn’t bother to correct him. He’d known her as a uniformed PC for a long time and old habits died hard.
‘I’m sure Dennis believes he’s doing the right thing, George. But he isn’t. If you waste any more time, there’s a real chance we won’t get these girls back. If you’re really concerned about Emily and Sian, tell us what you know.’
George rubbed his hand over his chin again. ‘I don’t tell tales on my friends, love. You’d better try someone else.’
‘You wouldn’t be telling tales, George. You’d be helping to find two little girls. Dennis is out of his mind with worry. He’s not thinking straight. Tell me this: if something happens to those girls in the next couple of hours, and you could have told us something to help find them, but you didn’t – how are you going to feel?’
George’s expression clouded over. He took a deep drag on his cigarette and blew the smoke up into the sky, which was now dark.
Karen felt like snatching the cigarette out of his hand, throwing it on to the floor and stamping on it. But instead, she waited, hoping that her words got through to him. He was a troublemaker, a drinker and a petty criminal, but she had to believe there was some decency in him somewhere.
Eventually, George sighed. ‘All right. I don’t know for sure, but my guess is he’s gone to speak to Lewis Marks.’
‘Lewis Marks?’ DI Morgan repeated the name and shot a look at Karen. She nodded, indicating she knew who Lewis Marks was. ‘Why would he want to speak to him?’
‘Well, Lewis was in the pub the other night mouthing off about how Dennis and his father had ripped him off and how he was gonna make sure they paid.’
‘So you think Lewis may have taken the girls to teach Dennis a lesson?’ Karen asked.
George shrugged. ‘I didn’t say that. But I think that’s probably the way Dennis’s mind is working.’