Celia opened her hands. ‘We can’t control how much effort patients put into their own recovery.’
‘So she didn’t try hard enough and that’s the only reason it failed?’ Kim asked, trying not to let her exasperation show. This wasn’t a new knee that stiffened up if you didn’t go home and follow the physiotherapist’s instructions. This was fighting your sexual identity.
‘We’re not monsters here, Inspector,’ Celia said gently. ‘I’m truly sorry about Jamie and Sarah, but we only help people that want to make a change.’
‘I think we’re going to have to agree to differ,’ Kim said, standing up.
Celia followed suit looking genuinely saddened.
‘I hate that you’re leaving with a negative impression of us.’ She paused. ‘Would you like me to ask Jess to show you around the place so you can really understand what we do?’
Kim opened her mouth to refuse. Nothing was going to change her mind, but why not? Both her victims had spent time here.
‘Okay, thanks, Celia. I think we’d like that very much.’
THIRTY-EIGHT
Stacey got out of the squad car at a multistorey National Car Park a stone’s throw away from New Street station in Birmingham city centre.
The boss hadn’t been out of the office for five minutes when she’d received the call that Gabriel Denton’s car had been reported as abandoned: the five-hour ticket purchased on Monday had expired almost seventy hours ago. Three fixed penalty notices had been stuck on the driver’s side window.
Damn it.
With over a million inhabitants in the city itself and thousands of visitors daily, he could stay in the middle of Birmingham city centre and she’d never find him.
This close to New Street station, with thirteen platforms and trains to pretty much every destination in the country, he had access to anywhere. He had his passport and a large amount of cash.
Stacey sighed heavily as she walked around the car. The tow-truck driver moved impatiently from one foot to the other, awaiting her authorisation to remove, but she wasn’t taking any chances. There was no way the boss would allow her to eat into the forensics budget for what was looking increasingly like Gabe Denton had done a voluntary disappearing act.
Oh, Gabe, I really hoped you were one of the good guys, she thought as she took a look in the boot that had already been forced open. She scanned the space that held only an emergency triangle and a foot pump.
She felt around for any signs of wetness, blood, bodily fluids, but it was as dry as a bone.
She took out her phone and walked around the car once more, taking a few snaps to accompany her statement.
She bent and looked inside. The glove box contained a small map book, tissues and a comb. She reached across and opened the centre console. It was empty, except for one thing. A mobile phone.
Perhaps Beth would want it after she’d interrogated it.
She touched the home button and it sparked into life. There was no password, and she could see that only five per cent of battery life remained.
The messages on the screen told her that he had twenty-seven missed calls and eleven voicemail messages.
She didn’t waste the battery life to look at or listen to them. They were all going to be from Beth. The last one had come in only an hour earlier. The woman was going out of her mind with worry, and right now Stacey had no good news to offer.
She was less interested in calls received than she was in calls made. Was there any indication of what he’d been planning to do? Had he called an airline? Booked tickets? Made reservations?
She scrolled to his call register as a battery warning message flashed on the screen. The five per cent had dropped to two.
She could see immediately that almost every outgoing call was to Beth, but just one entry got her attention.
He had made one call on Monday morning before he disappeared.
And it was to a name she already knew.
THIRTY-NINE
Kim followed Jess back into the reception area feeling as though she’d just been given a tour of Disneyland by a very perky cartoon character.