IMPOSTURE: Hunters become the hunted in this gripping murder mystery, Ray Clark [classic books for 10 year olds .txt] 📗

“She only knows what her husband told her,” said Gardener, “that someone hit him at a junction in Leeds, but she wasn’t sure where.”

“And you have no idea where the vehicle really is?” asked Gates.

“No.”

“I wouldn’t like to be in his shoes when he finally shows his face,” said Sharp.

“Do you get the impression she’s in on it?” asked Rawson.

“We don’t think so,” said Gardener. “Her reactions were pretty genuine.”

“Especially when she found out he wasn’t in Brussels,” said Reilly.

“So if his car was smashed up and he went out to work every day, how did he get there?” asked Colin Sharp.

“According to Rosie he was out of the door pretty early every morning, almost always before anyone else in the house had risen. She said he was regularly picked up by the others, they took it in turns.”

“So they all had cars,” said Rawson. “Don’t suppose she knows the models, does she, or a registration?”

Gardener shook his head. “Afraid not.”

Rawson sighed. “Might have helped if she had.”

“What about the registration of the Overfinch?” asked Longstaff.

“J1 AME,” said Gardener, glancing at Patrick Edwards. “What have you found, Patrick?”

“It’s registered to Hammer Studios in Buckinghamshire, sir.”

“Hammer Studios?” repeated Reilly. “Didn’t think they were still around.”

“To a company or an individual?” Gardener asked.

“A Mr Lee, C. Lee.”

“Mr C. Lee of Hammer Studios, out at Bray?” said Rawson. “That’s inventive.”

Gardener shook his head. He’d seen enough films – courtesy of his father – to know what that could possibly mean. Christopher Lee was one of the biggest stars of his day.

Edwards continued. “Me and Paul discussed the plate, trying to work it out – what it might stand for.”

Benson took over. “J, A & E might stand for Jack, Alfie – or Anthony, as the case may be – and Edna.”

“But we’re not sure about the M,” said Edwards, “unless it was Morse and not Conrad.”

“Further digging revealed the car had its first service at a dealership in Slough. We contacted them. It didn’t get us very far, other than verification but it was worth a call.”

“Did you find out who paid the bill?” asked Gardener. “And how they paid? Was there any footage of the individual in the dealership?”

“We’re just waiting for that, sir,” said Benson. “They got a bit cagey and read us the spiel about data protection and all that.”

“So we read them the riot act,” said Edwards, “and we asked Mr Briggs to give them a call and send us what we needed.”

“But we don’t have it yet?” Gardener asked.

Benson shook his head. “No.”

“Give them another call, keep on the case.”

“We banged it on the ANPR but so far, no pings.”

“We need to read traffic the riot act as well, see what they can find on the CCTV cameras,” said Reilly, “but if we haven’t seen anything on ANPR, maybe they removed the number plates after the accident. But even that should have stood out.”

“What about James’ home PC?” asked Sharp.

“We scoured it,” said Longstaff. “Been at it all night, the only thing on it was family home movie footage.”

“So there’s obviously a business computer somewhere else,” said Gates, “the important one that does all the damage.”

“I know I wanted all the airports checking,” said Gardener, “and I realise it was a tall order, and I doubt you’ll have managed all that in two days, but do we have anything at all on James Henshaw?”

“If he left the country he didn’t use his own name, or any of the others we know them by.”

“What we need here are some good photos of them all so that we can go back to the airports,” said Gardener, glancing at the whiteboard. “So far we only have one of James Henshaw courtesy of his wife. What about phones, internet, or bank accounts? Did his computer reveal any of that?”

“Nothing we can put to good use,” said Gates.

“What about the other three?” Gardener asked.

“Michael Foreman lives in Skipton,” said Rawson, “or did until he disappeared.”

“He’s disappeared as well?” Gardener asked.

“According to his neighbours he’s not been seen for a while.”

“When was the last time?”

“No one can remember. It doesn’t seem the sort of a place where people mix. New apartment block, I don’t think anyone really knows anyone else. Anyway, I’ve left a message for the caretaker to call us, see if he can shed any light on it.”

“I think we’ll find they’ve all disappeared, boss,” said Reilly.

Sharp took over. “Edna Hart, real name Zoe Harrison, has a Wharfe apartment on the River Aire. It’s pretty much the same type of place, very upmarket. I’d be surprised if anyone actually knew their neighbour. We did speak to the apartment either side, but they said they’d only spoken to her a couple of times and even then it was only pleasantries. No one knew what car she drove.”

“And she’s not home, either?”

“Nope. Neither is Alfie Price, real name Anthony Palmer, who lives in Burley.”

“Burley?”

“That’s the address we have,” said Sharp.

Same village as where the Hunters lived, thought Gardener. Perhaps it might be worth running the name past Roger Hunter. “I know we’ll need warrants to search the places but have you looked through windows, or letter boxes, to see if there is any sign of life?”

Rawson nodded. “Here’s the big one. We did find the caretaker in Zoe Harrison’s block. After some gentle persuasion he let us have a quick look round. The place appeared to have been cleared, of everything – incriminating or otherwise.”

“It’s empty?” asked Gardener.

“Apart from mail piling up on the mat, yes, almost as if she’s moved,” said Sharp. “The only problem is, we have no