Carol wondered if there was a tactful way to broach the subject of Seth’s biological parentage and realised there wasn’t. Still, it had to be dealt with. ‘What about his father?’ she asked.
‘He hasn’t got a father,’ Kathy said, weariness tempering what was obviously a source of irritation to her. ‘He’s got two mothers. End of story.’
‘Seth was conceived via AID,’ Julia said, her arm tightening round her partner. ‘Back in the days of anonymous donors. All we know about the donor is that he was five foot eleven inches tall, slim build, with dark hair and blue eyes.’
‘Thanks for clearing that up,’ Carol said with a smile.
‘Is that all they tell you?’ Kevin said. ‘I thought you got a sort of pen portrait. What they did, what their hobbies were, that sort of thing?’
‘It varies from clinic to clinic,’ Julia said. ‘The one we used only gives you the bare minimum.’
‘So there’s no way the father could track down his kid and make contact? Or Seth could track down his father?’ Kevin asked.
‘It’s donor, not father. No, it’s completely anonymised. Not even the clinic knows the name of the donor. Just their code number,’ Julia said. Her patience was clearly thinning.
‘And why would Seth do that? He’s never shown any curiosity about his donor. He’s got two parents he loves and who love him. Which is more than a hell of a lot of kids can say,’ Kathy said, openly belligerent now.
‘We appreciate that. But we do have to explore every possibility. ‘
‘Including homophobia,’ Kathy muttered. To Julia: ‘I told you what it would be like.’ Before Carol could respond, the doorbell pealed out. ‘I’ll get it,’ Kathy said, bounding out of the room. They heard the murmur of voices, then Kathy returned with Stacey Chen in tow. ‘It’s another one of your lot.’
‘DC Chen is our ICT expert. We’d like your permission to examine Seth’s computer,’ Carol said.
‘It’s in his room. I’ll show you,’ Kathy said.
‘I need a word with DCI Jordan first, if you’ll excuse us?’ Stacey said.
As Carol left the room, she heard Kevin’s loyalty kick in. ‘She’s not got a homophobic bone in her body,’ he said. ‘Two of her team, two of her closest colleagues are both lesbians. She chose them, and she trusts them.’
Nice one, Kevin. I bet that cuts absolutely no ice with Kathy. She’ll have Paula and Chris pegged as a right pair of Uncle Toms. Carol closed the door behind her and raised her eyebrows at Stacey. ‘News?’
‘The wrong sort. Daniel Morrison’s home computer isn’t web-configured. He only uses it for gaming and schoolwork. He’s got a webbook for all his online stuff. And he keeps that in his backpack when he’s out of the house. So we’ve got no electronic starting point.’
‘What about his email address? RigMarole account? Facebook?’
Stacey shrugged. ‘We might be able to backtrack some stuff. But he could have a dozen or more email addresses and web presences we know nothing about. It’s a big blow. There’s only so much I can do with so little.’
‘Any joy with the CCTV?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing after he leaves Bellwether Square. I think he must have left in a vehicle.’
‘OK. Concentrate on Seth for now. Better we try to take care of the living.’ If he is still living, which in the light of Daniel’s death, I seriously doubt. ‘His mother’s just emailed a recent photo to our address, can you get that out force-wide asap?’
‘I’ll do it right now.’
‘Thanks. Keep me posted,’ Carol said, turning back to the living room, where the atmosphere was no easier than when she’d left. ‘I’m sorry about that,’ she said. ‘Perhaps you could show DC Chen where to find Seth’s computer? And we’ll need your formal permission to search it, since he’s a minor.’
‘Do whatever you need to do,’ Julia said as Kathy made for the door. ‘She didn’t mean to insult you, Chief Inspector. She’s just upset, and when she gets upset it comes out as anger.’
Carol smiled. ‘I’m not easily insulted, Ms Viner. All I’m concerned about here is that we do everything we can to bring Seth home.’
Julia visibly drew herself together. ‘When I was driving home. After Kathy called. On the radio. There was something about a murdered teenage boy.’ Her hand flew to her mouth and she bit down on her knuckles.
‘That wasn’t Seth, Ms Viner. We’ve positively identified that boy, and it is definitely not Seth.’
Kathy walked back into the room in time to hear Carol’s words. ‘See, I told you, it couldn’t be Seth.’
‘Always the optimist.’ Julia clung to her arm.
‘We’ll be talking to Will and Lucie, and to Seth’s other friends. And we’ll be putting his photo out on our website and releasing it to the media. This is our number one priority right now,’ Carol said, getting to her feet. ‘Kevin will stay with you. If there’s anything else you can think of that will help us find Seth, tell him. I’ll be on the end of a phone if you need to talk to me.’
Julia Viner looked up at her, eyes pleading. ‘Just bring him home. I don’t care why he’s disappeared or what he’s done. Just bring him home.’
Her words echoed in Carol’s head all the way to the car. There was only so much she could do, but that was all at Julia and Kathy’s disposal. The thing was, thanks to her Bluetooth phone, she could make her phone calls as easily from her car as from her office. And there was another lost boy she owed some answers to. Carol started the engine and headed out of town on the Halifax road.
CHAPTER 17
Sam was not impressed with the moody grandeur of Wastwater. He found the mountains oppressive and the dark waters of the lake depressing. Why anyone would choose to come here for a holiday was beyond him. Walking was all well and good if you were on a Caribbean beach like his sergeant was right now. But the amount of freezing rain they got here must make it more of a misery than a pleasure. And what was there to do in the evenings? Sam loved to dance. He wasn’t picky; it didn’t have to be one particular club or one specific DJ or a distinct style of music. He just loved to feel the rhythm course through him, to lose himself in the beat and to move with an abandon he revealed nowhere else in his life. He wouldn’t mind betting there wasn’t a dance venue within twenty miles of here. Unless it was Morris dancing, which was to dancing what the ploughman’s lunch was to food.
He’d spent most of the day huddled in his car or in the underwater search team’s support vehicle. They weren’t a talkative lot. They’d taken Stacey’s list of co-ordinates and gone into a huddle over a chart, marking sections that he assumed corresponded to the search areas she’d suggested following her consultation with the satellite-imaging experts at Bradfield University. Some had donned wetsuits and strapped tanks of air to their backs then headed for the boat with its fat black inflatable rim. Sam hadn’t the faintest idea how they would go about the search. He’d never had any interest in diving. He couldn’t see the point. If you wanted to watch tropical fish, you could check out a David Attenborough DVD and never have to leave the comfort of your own living room.
The day had dragged wearily on. Divers disappeared under water, spoke incomprehensibly via their radio link to the control team in the support vehicle, surfaced and disappeared again somewhere else. Occasionally, the boat would return to shore and the divers would swap with another team. Sam was almost beginning to regret being so diligent with the Danuta Barnes case.
But then towards the end of the afternoon, everything changed. It was, he thought, the fifth dive. One of the resting divers walked briskly across to his car and made a circle with his thumb and first finger. Sam wound down his window. ‘Looks like we’ve found something, mate,’ the diver said cheerily.