Part 32 (1/2)

Tom nodded his thanks and headed for the door, turning as he went. 'Call me if there's anything at all. Seriously, Becky. I want to know straight away.'

He strode out of the building towards his car, head down against a biting wind, and the frustration swept through him again. He knew he was missing something, but it wouldn't come to him. The streets of Manchester were quiet. Maybe the cold was keeping everybody indoors, or perhaps it was later than he thought. Still, he had been told at the hospital that he could call in any time. Leo's operation had gone well, but she was still in an ICU cubicle. As long as he didn't disturb either her or anybody else, he knew they would let him sit with her for a while.

Arriving at the hospital, he walked head down, hands in pockets down the quiet corridors of the sleeping building, pa.s.sing nurses and other staff going briskly about their business.

'Tom?'

He lifted his head at a voice he recognised and smiled. 'Louisa. It's good to see you,' he said, meaning every word. She looked exhausted, though, and he realised that her job must be every bit as demanding as his own.

'I hear the operation on Leo's arm went well,' he said.

'Yes. I think your girlfriend will be out of ICU soon and on the road to recovery. I'm pleased for you both. Sorry, Tom, I need to go. A patient.' She gave him a tired but gentle smile.

'I...' he started, but she didn't hear him. 'b.u.g.g.e.r,' he muttered to her retreating back.

Leo was asleep when he got to her cubicle. Her arm was bandaged, but the skin on her face looked a much healthier shade. He decided to stay for a while. It was peaceful, and maybe he could get his thoughts together.

He hadn't intended to doze off, sitting upright in a not particularly comfortable hospital chair, but that was what happened, and he had no idea how long he slept. When he eventually surfaced, Leo was awake and watching him.

'Hi, sleepy head,' she said, her voice still hoa.r.s.e from the ordeal of the last few days. 'Thanks for coming to see me.'

'You couldn't keep me away,' he said, reaching over to stroke her good arm.

They talked in little more than whispers about anything and everything. Everything, that is, except the last few days. That would need time, and it would have to be on Leo's terms. Tom knew how she had been taken and where she had been kept. The police had the perpetrators in the custody suite, charged and ready to appear before the magistrates in the morning. She didn't need to say another word until she was ready.

'Tom,' she whispered, 'do you think you could do something for me?'

'Of course. What do you need?'

'Before all this happened I was seeing somebody.'

'I know, Julian Richmond. Nice guy.'

Leo looked startled.

Tom laughed. 'No, Leo, I wasn't having you watched. When you went missing I spoke to him that's all.'

For a moment she looked sad. 'It really is over for us, isn't it?'

Tom nodded. 'You'll always be special to me, but we can't go back. We'd probably slip back into how we used to be because that's what people do.'

'I know. I f.u.c.ked it up.' The regret was clear in Leo's eyes.

'We both f.u.c.ked it up. I expected too much, too soon. But what about Julian?'

'I like him. Quite a lot, actually. Since you... well, I've been scared, but he seems to get that. His ex-wife was a real cow. Much worse than yours.'

Tom smiled. Kate was okay. As long as she had plenty of money and could live the life she wanted, she didn't make too many waves, and they got on fine.

'Do you think you could contact Julian for me?' Leo asked. 'He may never want to see me again, but I'd like to know.'

'Of course he'll want to see you I'm sure of it but I'll call him in the morning. Does he know you're okay?'

'I don't know. I got Ellie to log onto my Facebook account for me, and let the small number of friends I have on there know that I'm safe and well, but he's not big on Facebook I don't think.'

Leo carried on chatting, but Tom stopped listening. Facebook. That was it. b.l.o.o.d.y Facebook.

Four cups of black coffee in the s.p.a.ce of three hours, and Becky was buzzing. It was one in the morning, and she knew she should go home, but she had a feeling that Michael Alexander presuming he was still alive might show his hand.

Every policeman in Manchester was looking for the guy, but the trouble was, n.o.body knew what he looked like. They didn't even know if he was here.

Becky's mobile rang as one of the PCs on the team pushed a note under her nose.

'Becky Robinson,' she said, stifling a yawn and trying to read the note at the same time as listening on her phone.

'Becky, it's Tom. Where are you?'

'In the incident room. Why?' Becky scanned the note, her eyes widening slightly.

'Tom-' But he was already talking.

'What was the name of the woman who was trying to track Michael Alexander through his ex-foster mother?'

'Just a minute,' she answered, keen to get this question answered so she could tell him her news. 'Grace Peters.'

'b.o.l.l.o.c.ks. How could I forget that?' he said.

'Why? Oh, s.h.i.+t. I've got it now. Maggie Taylor's sister! Suzy Peters.'

'Check out Maggie's full name. If Grace isn't her middle name, check out everybody else in the family. I'm coming back to the office.'

'I think you'll want to hear this, too. The only records of Duncan Taylor that we can trace start twelve years ago at the same time as Michael Alexander disappeared. And there's something else. I'll give you two guesses where the Taylors used to live.'

Tom didn't need two guesses. Suffolk. Where according to the National Crime Agency's database four women had been drowned and a symbol carved into their thighs.

Tom was silent for a moment, and Becky waited. She could almost hear his brain ticking over. 'I have a feeling Maggie Taylor knows full well who her husband is. I just hope to G.o.d she listened to what we told her earlier.'

The phone went dead in Becky's hand.

Ten minutes later the door to the incident room burst open, and Tom marched across to Becky.

'Well?' he said.

'Maggie Taylor Grace Peters. Same person. She doesn't use Facebook really. Like I said before, it's an account set up to nosy at other people's info. She's liked a few groups, but nothing else. No posts, and she hasn't got any privacy settings because there's actually no information about her.'

'And she was checking on Michael Alexander?'