Watching the Ghosts by Kate Ellis

Author:Kate Ellis [Kate Ellis]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers Ltd
Published: 2012-04-27T04:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

Emily provided a patrol car to take Hawkes home. His solicitor had been right when he’d said they had no reason to hold his client . . . certainly not on the strength of a few true crime books and his late father’s notes. And his alibi had checked out. He was with Yolanda from nine thirty until around three in the morning when he’d returned home in the hope his absence wouldn’t be noticed. But with Janet Craig wise to his nocturnal wanderings, he was unlikely to abscond again without them knowing.

There was only half an hour to go before the kidnapper made contact and Janet had instructions to let them know as soon as it happened. The holdall containing the cash had been returned to Hawkes as Emily didn’t want to take any risks with the child’s safety. But a tracking device had been concealed in the fabric of the bag and technical support was on hand to put a trace on the phone call.

She had called Daisy’s biological father, Paul Scorer, to keep him up to date with developments. He’d sounded more worried than Hawkes and frustrated because he didn’t have the wherewithal to do anything about it. It was Hawkes who could lay his hands on ransom money. Scorer, she observed to Joe, didn’t have two halfpennies to rub together.

Emily said she’d covered all bases and Joe hoped she wasn’t being over-optimistic.

As soon as Joe returned to the CID office, he found the card with the numbers of the individuals who’d helped Seb Bentham with his research scrawled on the back: the chaplain, the nurse and the former patient. Melanie Hawkes had the first two names in her file, along with another name, a Cecil Bentham.

Joe wondered which one to call first but, as there was no reply from the nurse, Betty Morcroft’s number, the decision was made for him.

The Reverend Kenneth Rattenbury lived in a small terraced house in Hilton, a couple of miles down the road from Boothgate House. Rattenbury answered the door as soon as Joe had rung the bell, as though he’d been hovering in the hall waiting for him.

The former chaplain of Havenby Hall was a tall man in his mid to late sixties with thick white hair and clothes that hung loosely off his large frame as though he’d recently lost weight. He wore an open-necked checked shirt but no dog collar.

Once inside the house Joe was shown into a small lounge dominated by a pair of tall bookshelves either side of a pretty cast-iron fireplace and a large TV in the corner of the room. The former chaplain invited Joe to sit and made himself comfortable in the armchair opposite.

‘I must say I was intrigued by your call, Inspector.’

‘Sebastian Bentham, the playwright, said you’d helped him with his research.’

Rattenbury looked down modestly. ‘I think he’s overestimating my contribution. I don’t remember telling him anything much apart from my impressions. I had a parish back then you see, and I only visited Havenby Hall a couple of times a week .

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