‘The van driver’s waiting in the interview room,’ Jacob said as he grabbed his notebook. ‘He confirms that he was the one driving the van that morning but says he knows nothing about a girl being in his van.’

‘Darren Mason, aged nineteen?’ Gina glanced at her notes.

‘That’s the one.’

They hurried to the interview room and saw the young man sitting there, almost disappearing under the desk. Gina cast her eyes over him, he looked about fifteen. Fresh acne covered his already scarred forehead and chin. She watched as he began picking at what looked like yesterday’s half dried spot. Although quite short and boyish, Gina noticed how stocky he looked, like he did weight training.

‘Mr Mason, Darren. What do you prefer to be called?’ Gina asked as she and Jacob sat opposite him.

He moved his hands away from his face and linked his fingers on the table. ‘Darren. My friends call me Daz.’

‘The interview will be taped so that we can refer to it at a later date.’

‘Am I in any trouble? I didn’t know she was in the van.’

‘At the moment we just need to establish what happened. We have a witness who saw a girl falling out of your van. That girl is in a critical state in hospital. We need you to tell us in as much detail as you can, all that you can remember and what happened on the morning of Saturday the fourteenth of July.’

Jacob nodded and started the recording device.

‘Interview with Darren Steven Mason, aged nineteen years old. DI Harte and DS Driscoll present. Date is Monday the sixteenth of July, 2018,’ Jacob confirmed.

Gina leaned forward. ‘Please tell me, in your own words, what happened last Saturday morning.’

Darren unlocked his hands and placed them out of sight, under the table. ‘At the weekends I help with the family business. My dad lets me use the van all the time even in the week. I go to university in Birmingham and work weekends. Mechanical Engineering.’ He paused as if he was waiting for praise before realising nothing was going to be said and continuing. ‘My dad owns Mason and Sons Tree Surgery, a company based in Warwick. I live at home with him and I was heading into Cleevesford on a job.’

‘What job was that?’

‘A domestic. Someone’s tree was overgrown. It was a straightforward trimming job, which is why I was doing it. My dad doesn’t trust me with anything more demanding yet, which is disappointing. It was an older lady, about fifty, lives on Brindle Lane, the number is on an email.’

Gina wondered if he was purposely being antagonistic or if referring to fifty as old was merely youthful innocence. She was in her mid-forties. Admittedly, some days she felt older but fifty and older lady, in the same sentence? Her feelings towards him had cooled even more.

Gina glanced at her notes and almost wanted to smile. Something didn’t add up and the detail was in his route. ‘Why were you driving down Laurel Lane if you were coming from Warwick?’

‘I err… I hadn’t come from Warwick that morning. I’d come from Redditch. I stayed at a friend’s flat. He lives in Winyates, in a flat in the centre.’

Gina glanced at Jacob. ‘What is your friend called?’

‘Callum, Callum Besford.’

‘So you stayed with your friend Callum. Tell me what happened from then.’

Sweat beads lined up along the young man’s forehead, mingling with his floppy fringe. His black oily hair shone like it was almost white on top as the light caught it. ‘We got up about six… I mean, I got up about seven and left. I can’t really remember the exact time. All I knew was I wanted to get the job done before it got hot. The woman said she was up early and she didn’t have any neighbours close by so I thought I’d get over there, get the job done and have the rest of the day to chill with… I mean, go home.’

Gina sensed some hesitation as he spoke. He got up at seven or was it six? Did both of them get up or just the one? He closed his eyes at the mention of Callum’s name.

‘I was meant to be trimming the Brindle Lane lady’s trees, in Cleevesford, for seven thirty. I remember stopping at the garage on Crump Lane to grab a coffee. This had to be about ten past seven. I drank most of it in the car park, so spent about five minutes there and carried on towards Cleevesford.’

He said he’d been hired to trim a tree, now it was trees. Maybe he was nervous, maybe he was trying hard to remember what he’d said a minute ago. A bead of sweat escaped down his forehead and slid past his eye. She could tell he wanted to wipe it away but he was resisting. His left eye half closed as it settled in on the edge of his eye. Trying to be in control, he left it and stopped flinching.

‘Did you hear or see anything that aroused your suspicion?’

‘No. Nothing. I noticed that as I was pulling into Cleevesford my van door was open. Luckily the tools were all strapped in, something my father never stops going on about.’

‘Was the back door locked when you began your journey?’

He stared at the wall, over her shoulder. ‘I thought it was, but it can’t have been. There was no sign of anyone breaking in. I must have left it unlocked. My dad will kill me. He won’t find out that I left it unlocked, will he? You don’t have to tell him that?’ He wiped the sweat with his sleeve. He was losing control.

‘Darren, a girl was witnessed falling out of the back of your van on that Saturday morning. That girl is now in intensive care, fighting for her life. The van door being unlocked is the last thing to worry about. Do you know how she came to be in your van?’

‘No.’ The gentle tone he’d begun speaking in was replaced by a sharp response.

‘Did you hear her getting in or falling out of your van?’

‘I didn’t hear anything. I had music on.’

‘What were you listening to?’

‘What? I don’t know. Loud music.’

‘All the way from Laurel Lane to your job in Cleevesford, you didn’t hear the van door flapping open and closed as you weaved in and out of the country lanes?’

‘No.’

‘We will need to examine your van. Can we please have your keys?’

‘No. I’m not under arrest and I’ve answered all your questions. You’re not having the van. My dad will kill me and I need it. I’m done here.’ He went to stand.

‘Mr Mason, please sit.’

‘No. I’ve finished here.’ Again, he began weaving his fingers together as he stared at the wall. ‘I want a solicitor.’

‘Okay. Darren Steven Mason. I’m arresting you on suspicion of kidnap. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned, something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.’

Before anything could be tampered with she needed to see his van and get hold of his phone. She needed Bernard and Keith to check it out as a potential crime scene. Under section eighteen, she needed his house searched and the clothing he was wearing on that Saturday morning seized.

‘Have the van keys been booked in?’

Jacob nodded.

The company had been called in advance so that they could identify who was driving the van that day and that had led them to Darren, son of the company owner. The man had quickly given his son’s name and then started ranting about how badly his son always drove the van and that he’d pay any fines. Gina wondered if his father had known something and had been overcompensating or if he simply knew nothing. Had he warned his son and had he – or they – already dumped potential evidence? More than likely. Her mind flashed back to the list of names she’d got from Facebook that she’d forwarded to O’Connor. Dazza Mason was on that list. His friends had tagged him in the post. He’d already been on O’Connor’s list. They’d have got to him eventually.

‘What? You can’t take my keys. I haven’t done anything. I told you. I don’t know anything about anyone getting in my van or falling out.’

‘Mr Mason. My colleague, DS Driscoll, will explain what happens next. This is a very serious charge and you’ve refused to cooperate with our investigation. We will keep you updated and a duty solicitor will be provided at your request. You also have the right to make a phone call.’

Jacob completed the interview with the time and stopped the recording. Gina pushed her chair back and left, leaving Jacob to continue booking Darren Mason into custody.

Briggs came out of the viewing room. ‘There’s something he’s holding back.’

‘I could tell. Right, the clock is ticking and we need to present something good to the CPS,’ Gina replied. The Crown Prosecution Service would need more than they currently had. She sincerely hoped that what they’d find in his van or home would give them what they needed and provide closure to the case.

Jacob left the interview room with the van keys and Darren’s mobile phone, both in a clear evidence bag. Gina took the bag. ‘I need to see his van. Oh, and Crump Lane. Get Wyre to call the petrol station and tell them we are coming for the CCTV. I want to know what he’s hiding.’