Page 26 of A Game of Lies

Ffion stares at her. ‘You never said.’

George holds her gaze. ‘You never asked.’

Twenty minutes later, Leo is starting to find his feet. Presenter Roxy Wilde looks younger than she does on television, her manner gentler and less bouncy. It’s not the first time Leo has met someone he’s seen on TV – you can’t cover Cheshire for eight years without bumping into the occasional footballer, or a wannabe celeb from theReal Housewives of Cheshire– and he always finds the disconnect unsettling. He supposes the Roxy he’s seeing now is the ‘real’ Roxy and the on-screen persona the fake one, but who knows?

Cameraman Owen hasn’t taken his eyes off his phone since Leo arrived. He’s already muttered, ‘Are we done?’ to no one in particular, answering Leo’s questions in a laconic, uninterested manner.

Leo has met Caleb Northcote, the production assistant, before, but he’s taken aback by how much the lad has changed. An awkward sixteen-year-old in the aftermath of the Rhys Lloyd murder investigation, Caleb has filled out in the last seventeen months, his muscles flexing against the fabric of his black T-shirt. He didn’t offer a hand, and, when Leo extended his own, Caleb wouldn’t meet his eyes. Still not keen on police, then, although Leo noted Caleb was more relaxed with Ffion, whom he presumably saw around Cwm Coed.

The MisPer’s wife, Jessica Francis, has been given her husband’s room, a converted stable in the courtyard behind the farmhouse, where Leo learns he will also find Miles Young in his editing suite.

‘I told him you were coming,’ Caleb says. ‘But time’s really tight. It’s just him on site, you see – everyone else works remotely.’

‘Understood.’ Leo stands. ‘Roxy, Owen, Caleb, thank you for your time.’

It’s a moment before the three crew members realise they’ve been dismissed, but, when they do, Caleb and Owen practically fall over themselves to escape. Roxy holds back, looking as though she wants to say something, but Owen shouts something at her and she follows dutifully.

‘Thanks for bringing me up to speed, you two.’ Leo nods at George, then at Ffion. He feels self-conscious in a way he never does when he’s briefing his CID team. Is she in any way pleased to see him again? If so, the sentiment hasn’t reached her face. ‘I want to run through a few lines of enquiry – make sure we’re doing all we can to bring Ryan home safely.’

‘Check the locals haven’t cocked it up, you mean?’ Ffion emphasises her Welsh accent.

Leo doesn’t rise to it. ‘I know PolSA’s liaising with the search-and-rescue team, and they’ve got the area immediately surrounding theExposurecamp well covered. What about further afield?’ He looks at Ffion, but it’s George who answers.

‘Uniform have searched barns and outbuildings within a five-mile radius.’

‘Have any of the property owners noticed anything missing? Clothes from a washing line, milk or bread from the doorstep?’

‘I don’t think that’s specifically been asked, Sarge—’ George corrects herself. ‘Leo.’

‘Then I’d like you and Ffion to do that today, please. Hospitals?’

‘No trace.’

‘Police custody?’

‘Same.’

‘Any access to a car?’

George shakes her head. ‘All the contestants were picked up from their home addresses and chauffeured here on Sunday.’

‘Given the time that’s elapsed since Ryan went missing, it’s not inconceivable he’s got himself to a main road and stuck his thumb out. Get obs circulated among lorry drivers and at service stations, please.’ He pauses. ‘Ffion?’

She doesn’t say anything.

‘Okay to do that?’

‘Shouldn’t your team be doing these enquiries?’ Ffion says. ‘I mean, Ryan’s missing from the Cheshire side of the border, and you’re here, so presumably you’re claiming the job, so …’ she points a finger at herself, spins it in a circle then points it at the door, ‘we can hand over to you and head off, right?’

‘It’s been classified as a joint investigation,’ Leo says. ‘Our MisPer, your local knowledge.’

‘I see.’

‘Is that a problem?’ Leo holds Ffion’s gaze.

She tilts her chin up a fraction but doesn’t look away. ‘No.’

‘Good. Where are we with financials and phone?’

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