Page 157 of Too Close To Home

“The bosses. Owners. Own the whole of bloody Hartswick they do.”

“So you mean the owners of the steel works?”

“Aye.”

Harrison flipped a page. “Lancaster Group?”

“Not them. That’s the name on the signs.”

Harrison glanced at Calder, who raised an eyebrow. So Harrison ran through the mental stores of knowledge he’d accumulated that week. “You mean the family? Blackridge?”

“Aye. Them.”

“And Mr Fisher works for them?”

Andy gave a humourless huff. “As do we all. But he’s their man. Knows where everything is, what goes on, what gets buried.”

“Buried?”

Andy glanced down at the pictures of Robyn again. “You want somewhere to get rid of a body or keep someone where no one’s looking… he’d know. Places no one checks. Not properly. Also knows how the money gets changed.” He laughed. “Funny, really. His girl goes missing… and suddenly everyone’s asking me questions.”

“We’re asking you questions, Andy,” Harrison leaned forward, “because you placed yourself at the King’s Arms the night Emily went missing. CCTV puts you there, talking to her. Your van is seen on Moor Road near her last known location. Your phone has traces there. And on searching your property, we’ve recovered extensive material relating to another missing girl.”

Andy shook his head. “Didn’t do nowt. Not to her.”

Harrison held his gaze. He hadn’t said anything about Robyn.

“Andy, you’ve spent your interviews pointing at everyone else. Jake Whitton. Robyn’s father. Now Emily’s. How do you think that looks to us?”

“That you’re, once again, talking to the wrong bloke.”

Harrison kept his eyes on Andy. Because this part mattered. And he produced another piece of paper from the folder. A printout. Grainy. Almost completely faded, but enough to know it had once been a map.

“What’s this Andy?” He slid it across the table.

Andy peeked down. “I dunno.”

“It was found in your scrapbook.”

Andy said nothing.

“This section’s been marked.” Harrison tapped his finger on the faint circle. “Hand-drawn. After the fact.” Harrison didn’t move his hand. “Where did you get it?”

Andy shrugged. “No comment.”

Harrison held his gaze. “You circled this yourself?”

“No comment.”

“Why here?” Harrison pressed, tapping the circled area once. “What’s there?”

Andy leaned back in his chair, looking away. “No comment.”

“Is this somewhere you’ve been? Somewhere you know?”

Andy’s jaw worked. His eyes dropped again to Robyn’s photograph. “No comment.”

Calder glanced sideways at Harrison. Obviously unsure of what all this was. He hadn’t had time to go through it all with Calder yet. And sometimes it was good to keep his sergeants on their toes, too.