‘So we’re going on the basis that the kid is Harper’s?’ asks one of the DCs at the back.
‘Yes,’ says Quinn. ‘That’s the working assumption.’
‘So why not do a DNA test? That’d prove conclusively that he raped the girl.’
‘That’s more complicated than it sounds,’ I say, intervening, ‘given the girl’s in no state to give her permission. But I’ve spoken to Social Services and they’re on the case. And in the meantime we’re testing the bedding in the cellar. If we’re lucky, that’ll give us what we need.’
I nod to Quinn.
‘Right,’ he says. ‘Thus far the house-to-house in Frampton Road hasn’t turned up anything useful. Apparently Harper’s a well-known local nutter but no one we’ve spoken to thinks he’s actually dangerous. One of the neighbours insists he has a son called John, but we know he doesn’t. So either the old lady’s mistaken –’
‘Not another daft old bat,’ someone mutters. Someone else laughs.
‘– or there is someone called John who used to visit Harper even though he’s not his son. So we’re going to have to find out who that is and track them down, even if only to eliminate them. And let’s remember that even if this “John” was going in there, he may not have known what was going on. We can’t afford to jump to conclusions.’
‘What, like you did, with that social worker?’
I don’t catch who says it but no one’s laughing this time. Quinn is staring at his feet. There’s an awkward pause, but I’m not going to dig him out of this one. It’s Gislingham, of all people, who comes to the rescue. Though to be fair, those two do seem to have settled their differences of late. After Quinn made DS it was guerrilla warfare for a while, but perhaps fatherhood has mellowed Gislingham. Or just worn him out. I know how that feels.
‘I spoke to Birmingham Uni,’ Gislingham says, ‘and one of Harper’s old colleagues there. Harper definitely had an affair with a student in the nineties. But that’s all. Nothing deviant as far as I can tell. But I’m still waiting for the full file – that might tell us more. Though there is an article he wrote back in the nineties about role-playing online and how it can make people think violence is OK because none of it’s real. “Dungeons and Damsels” it was called, which is more than a bit bloody spooky, if you ask me.’
‘And the supermarket – has anyone got through to them?’
‘I did,’ says a DC at the back. ‘They’ve spoken to the delivery guys who do that run and they can’t tell us anything. They just unload the carrier bags in the hall each time. Apparently Harper wasn’t one for making conversation.’
‘So on that basis,’ says Quinn, ‘the next job is to extend the house-to-house, in the hopes someone might recognize the girl, and/or know something about this John bloke.’
He steps back and points to the map he’s pinned up, and starts talking through exactly which streets they’re going to canvass next. But I’m not listening. I’m staring at the board, realizing for the first time what should have struck me hours ago. I get up and walk over to the map and stand there. I can hear the room fall silent behind me.
‘Remind me what number Frampton Road Harper lives at?’
‘Thirty-three,’ says Quinn, frowning slightly. ‘Why?’
I pick the pen up and mark number thirty-three, then draw a line south-east.
‘I thought so.’
Quinn is still frowning. ‘Thought what?’
‘Harper’s house is directly behind Crescent Square. Eighty-one Crescent Square, to be precise.’
I turn round. Some of them clearly don’t have a clue what I’m getting at. Though, to be fair, not all this team were working here then. But Gislingham was, and I see realization dawn.
‘Hang on,’ he says. ‘Wasn’t that where Hannah Gardiner lived?’
And now the recognition is immediate. The name is like a shot in the vein; all of a sudden, the room is clamouring with questions.
‘Not that woman who went missing – the one they never found?’
‘When was that again? Two years ago?’
‘Shit, do you think there could be a connection?’
Quinn looks at me, a question in his eyes. ‘Coincidence?’ he says quietly.
I look again at the map, at the photograph of the girl, and I remember Hannah Gardiner’s face pinned to a board just like this, month after month, until we eventually took it down. She wasn’t that much older than this girl is now.
‘I don’t believe in coincidences,’ I say.
***
Channeclass="underline" Mystery Central
Programme: Great Unsolved Crimes
Episode: The Disappearance of Hannah Gardiner
First shown: 09/12/2016
Panoramic shot of Oxford skyline, dawn, summer
VOICEOVER
Ever since Inspector Morse, TV viewers across the world have seen Oxford’s dreaming spires as the perfect setting for the perfect murder. But all those dark tales of killing in the quads bear little resemblance to real life in this beautiful and prosperous city, where the crime rate is low, and unsolved homicides are almost unheard of.
But in summer 2015, all that was about to change. The city’s police force was about to be baffled by a mystery as strange as any case Morse ever confronted. A mystery that was destined to become one of Britain’s most notorious unexplained crimes.
Wide shot of Crescent Square, bikes against railings, cat walking across road, mother and small boy on scooter
VOICEOVER
The story starts here, in leafy North Oxford, one of the most affluent and attractive suburbs of the city. It was here that 25-year-old Hannah Gardiner, her husband Rob and their little son Toby took an apartment in the autumn of 2013.
Family snapshot of Gardiners, gradual close-up; reconstruction of small boy playing with a ball in a garden
VOICEOVER
Hannah had been a journalist in London when she met Rob, and after he got a job at an Oxford-based biotech company, the family took up residence in a sunny first-floor apartment with access to a pretty shared garden where Toby could play.
Interview: Backdrop – interior
BETH DYER, HANNAH’S FRIEND
Hannah was really excited about moving to Oxford. It was a really happy time for her. It just seemed like everything was coming together. And when she got the job at BBC Oxford she was just over the moon – we all went out to celebrate.
Footage of Hannah talking to camera on BBC local news
VOICEOVER
Hannah soon made a reputation for herself covering some of the city’s most controversial stories.
Interview: Backdrop - BBC Oxford office
CHARLIE CATES, SENIOR EDITOR, BBC OXFORD
Hannah was always first in line to take on the difficult issues. She did several pieces on homelessness in Oxford, and a series on the postcode lottery in infertility treatment that got some traction at a national level. She was passionate about her work and she was in journalism for all the right reasons.
Shot of MDJ Property Developments offices
VOICEOVER
In early 2015 Hannah took on her most challenging assignment yet, when local property developer Malcolm Jervis submitted a proposal to build a big new housing estate some miles outside the city.
Tracking shot of protest camp, banners, people chanting
VOICEOVER
Local resistance to Jervis’s new plan was fierce, both from residents and environmental campaigners, who set up a protest camp near the proposed building site.