Page 92 of Stolen Ones

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‘Yes.’

‘And you pleaded no contest.’

He nodded. ‘Maybe I should have tried to fight it, pleaded not guilty, but I was advised to offer no plea and accept the punishment.’

‘Which was?’

‘A three-year sentence and forty hours of community service. It wasn’t fully explained to me that I’d likely spend more than a year in prison.’

‘Sue your lawyer,’ Kim said without sympathy. His right to understanding the rules had disappeared when he’d slept with a minor.

‘And you were questioned in connection with the disappearance of Melody Jones in ’96?’

‘Briefly,’ he said, as though it was a minor event that he’d forgotten. ‘But I wasn’t even in the area when that girl disappeared.’

That girl.

‘And I had a cast-iron alibi that—’

‘Was provided by people that work for you,’ she clarified.

‘I wasn’t there, and I’m not a pervert,’ he protested strongly.

Kim neither agreed nor disagreed. The facts were the facts.

‘You were at university when you were convicted of rape?’ Kim asked, having a sudden thought.

He nodded.

‘And you say you sought advice from those around you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Was one of those people Steven Harte?’

‘Most likely. He was an intelligent, trustworthy guy, so yes, there’s a good chance I asked him for his advice.’

So Steven Harte had known the man was a sex offender and had chosen to do business with him anyway.

Fifty-Five

Stacey had wanted to be completely sure before she said anything to her colleagues and, most importantly, the boss. After reviewing all of the footage of Grace Lennard from the day of the abduction, she was pretty sure she was right.

‘Alison, Penn, come take a quick look at this,’ she said.

Penn wheeled his chair around the desks, and Alison followed behind.

Stacey had taken all the clippings of Grace from that day and formed a slow-motion montage.

Once they were in position she played it.

Grace in the huddle with the others.

Grace moving back to the vegetable garden.

Grace entering the premises first thing wearing a yellow cardigan.

Grace in the kitchen having a biscuit and a glass of juice without the cardigan.

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