The Lock Up by Alex Scarrow

Author:Alex Scarrow [Scarrow, Alex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-04-29T16:00:00+00:00

32

‘We have Robin James Mitchell and Robin Whitehead,’ began O’Neal. He and Warren were standing side by side, both equally eager to present what they had.

‘Whitehead’s the interesting one, chief,’ said O’Neal.

Boyd closed the ‘side effects of chemotherapy’ tab on his browser. ‘What have you got on him?’

‘He’s a misper, sir,’ said Warren. ‘And a relatively recent one at that.’

‘Reported when?’

‘Two years ago.’ Warren indicated Boyd’s computer. ‘Have a look.’

Boyd pulled up LEDS, navigated his way to the missing persons database and tapped the name in.

A recent picture of Whitehead popped up. He was a well-tanned man in his mid forties, his sandy-coloured hair whipped up by a stiff breeze and revealing a pronounced widow’s peak. He was wearing a T-shirt with some indecipherable sports logo on it. It looked as though he was sitting in the cockpit of a yacht, a can of beer in one hand, the wheel of a helm in the other.

‘Looks like he’s living the good life,’ said O’Neal. ‘Or he was anyway.’

‘He’d been living abroad for the last fifteen years or so,’ said Warren. ‘In Qatar.’

Boyd scanned the report quickly. ‘He was reported missing by…?’

‘His sister. Caroline Hussain,’ replied Warren. ‘She lives out there too. She’s married to a local and sells property. Robin had been out there since 2006.’

‘Doing what?’ Boyd asked.

‘Working for Caroline, selling apartments. According to the report, she said that in 2021 he was offered a job in London. He flew back to start work and she’d not been able to get in touch with him for several months after that, so she reported him missing to the Met.’

‘And we know for sure he arrived in the UK?’

‘There’s been no follow-up by the Met,’ said O’Neal. ‘It looks as if they just logged it on the system and let it sit.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me?’ Boyd grunted. ‘All right, thanks, you two.’ He dismissed them with a nod. ‘Good job.’

He read through the misper report again. It was light on detail and he decided it would be quicker and more efficient to contact this Caroline Hussain directly. He guessed Qatar was around four or five hours ahead, so it was okay to call, and he dialled the contact number given.

The phone rang half a dozen times before the call was picked up by a smooth-sounding female voice.

‘Good afternoon. Hussain-Whitehead Real Estate, how can I help you?’

‘I’m after Caroline Hussain,’ he said.

‘Speaking,’ she replied.

‘Ah, Hello. I’m DCI Boyd from East Sussex CID,’ he said. ‘I’m following up on the missing persons report you made for your brother.’

He heard a sharp intake of breath. ‘Well, it’s about bloody time. It’s been two years!’

‘Yeah, sorry about that, Ms Hussain…’ Boyd began, inwardly cursing the Met.

‘Sorry? It’s absolutely bloody disgraceful! I’ve had no updates from you. No one’s reached out, nothing. Not that I’m surprised given what I’ve read about the London police recently.’

Her accent was a polished version of London estuary, but Boyd noted a few transatlantic vowels creeping in. The American accent,

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