“Then you’ll know what I do for a living?”

“You’re a bloody snoop. What else is there to know?”

“Yes, but a very tasteful snoop, Mr Fallon. What I propose to do with your story is make you more acceptable to the millions who’ll read it.”

“Acceptable. The one thing I’ll never be, missy, is acceptable—so don’t even try. I hate the press—I’ll see you dead first.”

The way he spoke these words suggested he wasn’t joking. Lydia felt an icy shiver of pure fear fly down her spine. Tom had been right—Fallon was a very scary man—and now he was pressing something hard into her thigh. She sneaked a look, and immediately wished she hadn’t. It was a revolver. Now this thug was after Tom—and it wasn’t for a family catch-up, that was for sure. So what could she do?

“I need petrol. My gauge is on the blink. There won’t be enough in the tank to get us to Leesdon.”

“Nice try, bitch. Do you really think I’m that naïve? And don’t go anywhere near my Marilyn again. She’s gullible, and I won’t have you bothering her. Do you understand?”

Lydia nodded her head furiously. She understood alright and had no intention of crossing him. She checked her rear mirror again—no one was following. The police had been too concerned with getting into the Fallon house and searching it to realise he’d already scarpered. No one had seen them drive away. But surely they must have realised he wasn’t in the house by now? It would all depend on what Marilyn told them when she got back. The motorway stretched out ahead. There were any number of cameras along the distance they would cover. But would they pick them up? Fallon was still low in the seat with that damn hat obliterating most of his face—so it was unlikely. Lydia racked her brain for some way to warn Tom, but her mobile was in her bag on the back seat. Her only hope, then, was to do something once they reached his house. Hopefully Tom would be out.

Chapter 24

Dobson spat onto the ground, and shrugged as Calladine snapped the handcuffs on him. He offered no explanations; he didn’t plead his case or try to run. Nothing.

“Every inch of this place must be searched. Rigby must be here somewhere, and we need to find where Dobson kept the girls.”

“Sir!”

It was Rocco, arriving on the scene with James Alton and, surprisingly, his wife, Vida.

“I’ve got the keys, Inspector. I’ll unlock the greenhouses and the old outbuilding.”

Calladine gestured at the uniformed officer holding Dobson to get him to a car, but he shuffled out of his grasp.

“Vida, you came! I knew you would! I knew you wouldn’t let me down.”

Vida Alton held onto her husband’s arm and buried her face in his shoulder, as the uniformed officer grabbed Dobson’s coat and held him fast.

“It’s Jonathan! He’s the creep who did all those things, isn’t he?”

“But you know I only did it for you! You love me, you know you do. We should be together—I waited for you, I practised and everything. I did all this for you, Vida.” His expression grew bewildered when he saw the hatred in her eyes. “Why didn’t you come? Why did you leave me alone with those stupid slags? I tried to turn them into you, but it just didn’t work. I couldn’t get them perfect enough.”

James Alton gave her a puzzled look. “What’s he talking about?

You and he, you never …?

“No, of course not. I hardly know him. He used to bother me at the gym—that’s partly why I stopped going. He used to stare, watch me while I worked out.”

Calladine told the officer to take Dobson away. “The man’s delusional. He’s built an entire fantasy around his obsession with your wife. When he couldn’t get near her he went after a series of lookalikes—sound-alikes too. He imagined he could create a perfect copy.” He shook his head. “Take your wife home, Mr Alton.

I’ll send an officer to take a statement later.”

Calladine cast his eyes over the large tract of land spread out in front of him. “Before you go, Mr Alton, we think Dobson must have had somewhere—a safe, secure place unlikely to be found by mistake, by either you or the workforce. Have you any idea where that might be? A man’s life may depend upon it.”

“The greenhouses are just as you see them—built over the soil you see them standing on. The only possibility is that.” He indicated the stone outbuilding. “Before I came here and developed the nursery, the land belonged to a farm, and that was one of the barns. I use it for storage, that’s all.”

“We’ll start in there, thanks. Now you get off.”

“Sir!” Rocco called. “The hospital has just been on. Patsy’s come round and she’s talking.”

“Get round there and see what she remembers. Anything about where she was kept would be helpful.”

* * *

Jonathan Dobson had finally been taken off to the police station, where he would be interviewed. As soon as his DNA had been checked against the samples they had, they’d charge him. Dobson seemed oddly unconcerned. When he’d been arrested, he’d merely smiled and made some remark about missing the football tonight.

His mother, on the other hand, had been frantic. She didn’t believe it—couldn’t believe it—but she obviously had no idea what her son was up to most of the time. She had admitted that he was rarely at home.

Doc Hoyle arrived with Julian Batho to examine the bonfire. It was a mess, which hadn’t been helped by the dousing it had received. But the doctor was able to confirm that there were human bones amongst the ash.

“Impossible to burn bones at this temperature. He must have been desperate, to try this. I’ll run the usual tests and keep you informed, but there’s no doubt in my mind what these are. We’ll check the DNA against the profiles you got from your American friend. If I’m right, I can see the remains of at least three bodies.

The flesh—what there was of it, has mostly burned away, but there is a little still clinging to that leg over there.”

Calladine saw Ruth’s face pale. She’d be on the verge of retching. This was another find that was far too gruesome for her.

The smell was as bad as the post-mortem room, and Serena’s remains.

“The outbuilding is single storey and there’s nothing but tools and sacks of fertiliser stashed in there,” a uniformed officer called across to them.

“It’s here. It’s got to be, there’s nowhere else.” Calladine felt the bonnet of the white van. “This hasn’t moved all day, it’s stone cold.

He’s had the bodies buried here somewhere, so he must have a place—a room, something. Rigby’s car is in the café car park. I’m not wrong, I can feel it.”

“It looks like the bodies were buried over here,” Julian called to him. “See—the soil is freshly dug, and you can see where he’s dragged something along the ground. There’s remnants of burnt cloth in the ash too. Could be bodies wrapped in blankets, like Serena.”

Dobson must have realised that Alton would eventually capitulate and sell his land to the council, and that’s why he’d needed to move them. It bothered Calladine that, without the impending buy-out, Dobson’s crimes might never have come to light.

It was only about four in the afternoon, but at this time of the year it was already getting dark. If they didn’t find something soon they would need extra lights. Calladine didn’t want to leave all this exposed to the elements overnight. He took his mobile from his overcoat pocket and rang Rocco.

“Have you got anything? We’ve searched high and low but we can’t find anything. Is there something Patsy can tell us about where she was held?”

“She’s still a bit groggy and deeply shocked, sir. But she did say there was no light—no windows. She only escaped because a door opened above her, if that makes any sense.”

It might. Calladine went back into the outbuilding and walked around it. There were windows on two sides with no covering. If Patsy had been kept in here she’d have seen daylight and the night sky.