Aiden Moore’s chubby legs couldn’t carry him any faster. His brother Kyle was ahead of him, whooping loudly as he raced along the trail, flattening tiny blades of grass as he tore through the woods, waving the mobile phone.
‘Wait!’ yelled Aiden, but Kyle either didn’t hear or didn’t want to hear.
Grandma Hannah was way behind them now. She struggled with walking fast and had to stop regularly to take a breath from her inhaler. It made a funny, wheezing noise when she used it, like the plastic trumpet Aiden got for Christmas that Kyle had broken. It had been her idea to come on the Gruffalo Spotting Trail on Cannock Chase. Ever since she’d told them about it, Aiden had thought of nothing else. He loved The Gruffalo, and with the app they’d downloaded onto Grandma’s phone, he and Kyle were going to find footprints, spot Gruffalo characters and get their photos taken with them. Kyle knew more about it than him because Kyle had been here before with some school friends.
It seemed he’d been waiting for this day for forever, yet it had only been two weeks since Grandma had visited and told the boys about the treat she had in store for them. Mummy had left her to explain and gone into the kitchen while Grandma had sat with the boys.
‘What happens when you find the footprints?’ Aiden had asked, staring at the mobile phone, his comfort blanket gripped in his small fist.
Grandma smiled. ‘You point the phone at a marker and the character comes to life so it’s in the forest with you.’
‘Will I be able to speak to it?’
Grandma laughed, then coughed and coughed. Eventually she spoke. ‘No, Aidy. They’re cartoon-alive not real-person-alive, but I’ll take your photograph with them and you’ll be able to see them on the app.’
‘They’re alive,’ said Kyle, who’d been watching the television at the time.
Grandma Hannah gave him a look. ‘Not properly alive,’ she said.
‘They are,’ he whined. ‘I’ve seen them.’
Grandma opened her mouth to speak but Kyle suddenly bounced off the sofa and raced off to kick a ball outside. He could never settle to any task for long. He was always twitchy. Mummy had tried to explain he had an attention disorder but Aiden didn’t understand what that meant. Grandma coughed again and turned back to Aiden.
‘You’ll be able to see yourself with the characters.’
‘Owl?’
She nodded. ‘And the others.’
‘And the Gruffalo.’
‘Definitely the Gruffalo.’ She ruffled his hair like she always did when she was about to stand up and leave.
Aiden couldn’t believe it. Mummy had read the story about the Gruffalo to him at bedtime, almost every night for the last month. He would so love to actually see the Gruffalo in the forest. He’d had to wait for Kyle to finish school for half-term before they could go. Mummy hadn’t been keen on their outing because Aiden had had a sniffle for three days and it was a really cold day when Grandma turned up in her old silver Honda to take them to Cannock Chase.
‘I don’t think the forecast is good for today,’ Mummy said. ‘Maybe you should go another day? I don’t want Aiden to get worse.’
Kyle wailed, ‘No! Today. We’re going today. I want to see the Gruffalo.’ He kicked out at the wall in the kitchen. ‘I want to see… the Gruffalo.’ Kyle always kicked walls and doors when he was cross. Mummy pulled him away and tried to explain that they could go another day when the weather was better. Kyle crossed his arms and began crying, loud noises that made Aiden want to stick his fingers in his ears. Kyle could really wail when he wanted to.
‘Stop that now, Kyle. It’s not necessary. You’ve been before. You can go another day when it’s nicer out.’
Aiden’s heart sank into his stomach. He’d been waiting for this day so patiently. He didn’t even feel sick and his nose wasn’t running as badly as it had been and he really wanted to go Gruffalo spotting. Tears brimmed over his thick, dark eyelashes and sobs rose in his throat. He’d thought about nothing else since Grandma said she’d take them to Cannock Chase. It was too much to bear. He’d really wanted to see the Gruffalo.
Mummy glared at Kyle, who shrugged, his tantrum now forgotten. Grandma hugged Aiden and wiped his snotty nose. ‘We’ll go, but we won’t stay for too long. I don’t want you to become ill either. We can go again another day too.’
It took ages for Kyle to get ready. He had lost the trainers he wanted to wear and wouldn’t go until they were found. They got stuck in a huge traffic jam going through Stafford, and then Grandma got lost trying to find the correct car park on Cannock Chase. By the time they arrived at the starting point, it was after lunch and the café was empty of visitors. Kyle decided he wanted some food and Grandma had to buy him a sandwich and crisps. Aiden wasn’t hungry but Grandma insisted he had a sandwich too. She ordered a coffee for herself and seemed to take forever to drink it. Eventually, they got activity bags and were ready to start Gruffalo-spotting. Aiden held his own activity bag tightly in his hand. It contained cards about the animals they might find, including Snake and Owl. He also had a magnifying glass and a special ruler. He didn’t want to lose any of the bag’s contents.
Outside, the temperature had dropped further. The skies had become black and Grandma was worried it would snow. Aiden thought it’d be great if it snowed. Maybe he could build a Gruffalo out of snow. Grandma wasn’t as excited as she had been. Now she looked fed up. She made them wait by the activity centre building and wrapped them up in coats and scarves and woollen hats. Kyle had twisted about and pulled his hat off. ‘I don’t want it. I want to go hunting for characters.’
He’d scampered on ahead, joining a group of three children, and screamed in delight when they found a marker. Grandma had followed with Aiden, who eagerly pulled at her hand.
‘Come on, Grandma,’ he urged.
The other children stood beside a marker point and grinned as their mother took their photograph. Kyle hopped from one foot to the other, eager to take their place. Grandma aimed the phone at the marker and lifted it so Aiden and Kyle could see the short animation. Aiden’s mouth dropped open as he watched a 3D Mouse appear from behind a stump of a tree trunk and run across it. Afterwards, Grandma photographed the pair of them with Mouse. Aiden couldn’t have been happier. Kyle became increasingly impatient and bounded on again. Grandma took out her inhaler.
‘I have to stop for a minute,’ she said.
Kyle came skipping back. ‘Can we go ahead, Grandma? I’ll show Aidy the animals and take the photographs. I know what to do with it. I did it before when I came with James.’
Grandma gave a tired sigh. ‘Go on. You go ahead and look for footprints and markers, but you hold Aiden’s hand while you’re walking and don’t let go of it. Don’t go out of my sight. Understand? You wait for me and make sure you can always see me. I don’t want you getting lost in the woods. Promise?’
‘Yes, yes. Promise. Come on, Aidy. Let’s find the Gruffalo.’
Kyle grabbed Aiden’s mittened hand in his own and tugged him along. At first, Aiden had been able to keep pace with his brother but suddenly Kyle dropped his hand and began walking faster. ‘I’m a hunter,’ he shouted. ‘I’m going to track down the Gruffalo and shoot it,’ he said, pretending he had a gun.
Aiden’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Don’t shoot it.’
Kyle laughed at his misery and began to make whooping noises.
Aiden slowed his pace, his breath now coming out in white, misty clouds. He blew into the air and watched as they drifted away. He wondered if the Gruffalo could make white breath clouds too. Kyle had found a stick and was prodding at the ground with it. Aiden was torn between looking for the footprints and feeling scared Kyle would hurt the Gruffalo. Kyle could be cruel at times. He’d pull legs off spiders and laugh. He didn’t seem to care. Kyle looked across, waved at Grandma who was walking towards them slowly, and shouted, ‘It’s okay, Aidy. I won’t hunt it. I’m only joking. Let’s find a footprint.’
At that moment, Aiden couldn’t find any of the other animals or markers. Kyle had scooted ahead, even though Grandma had told him to stay with his brother. The trouble with Kyle was that he wouldn’t listen. He just did what he wanted to. Grandma had told him off for kicking the back of her seat while she was driving to Cannock Chase. He’d beamed at her and said sorry, but he did it again and again. He wasn’t being naughty. He was just Kyle. He never sat still and he would often become very impatient with his younger brother, who, at five years old, struggled to keep up with seven-year-old Kyle.
‘Come on, Aidy,’ urged his brother, now stooped over something on the ground. He waved the mobile at it and shook his head. ‘No. Not here. Hurry up.’
Aiden trotted quickly to catch up, then remembered his grandmother. He turned to check she was still in sight. She was some way behind. He waved at her and she waved back, her hands beckoning him to return to her, huge sweeping gestures that were unmistakable. Her mouth opened and closed, but he couldn’t catch her words. She waved her hands more agitatedly, but Aiden wasn’t going to return to her. He hadn’t found Snake, Owl, Fox or the Gruffalo yet. He scampered in the direction his brother had taken. The path twisted and turned between trees and suddenly Aiden came across a clear footprint. It was huge. How could Kyle have missed it? It must belong to the Gruffalo. He concentrated on looking for more prints and a marker point. The Gruffalo would be there. He found another large footprint and spun around, desperate to find Kyle and the mobile phone that would allow them to bring the creature to life. His brother had disappeared and Aiden had wandered further into the woods than he intended. He couldn’t spot the trail they’d been on. He turned and tried to retrace his steps but ended up completely lost. Black clouds that scurried across the sky suddenly turned day in the direction of night.
‘Kyle,’ he called. There was no reply. He brushed through the undergrowth and startled a bird that chattered angrily at him, making him jump. ‘Kyle,’ he said again, this time more uncertain of himself. The woods didn’t seem to be quite as friendly.
He began to shake with cold and anxiety. There were no markers here – the big arrows he’d been told to follow. Then he remembered the Gruffalo was friendly and would help him find his way out of the woods. He just had to find it.
He stumbled on in the gloom, nudging past some tall ferns and a few trees. All the while, he clutched his activity bag to his chest. He could hear rustling ahead and then… he saw feet – feet and legs. The Gruffalo was hiding under a bush, near a clearing.
‘Hello,’ he whispered. The Gruffalo didn’t answer or move. Aiden wondered if maybe he was angry for some reason, or playing hide-and-seek. The wind moaned quietly through the trees, frightening Aiden, now suddenly anxious that the Gruffalo would leap out and try to scare him. Kyle sometimes did that and Aiden hated it. He wanted to go home. He backed away from the bush and further into the clearing, and when he turned, there in front of him was a car – a red car exactly like Mummy’s. Mummy had come to find him. He trotted up to it and stood on tiptoe to let Mummy see him. He wondered if Kyle was already inside.
He tapped on the window and pressed his face against it. For a moment his mind couldn’t process what he was seeing. This wasn’t Mummy’s car. It belonged to a man – a man with his swollen tongue hanging from his mouth, and red-veined eyes wide open, staring at Aiden. The activity bag tumbled to the ground; cards, ruler and magnifying glass spilled out. Aiden let out a terrible wail and began to call desperately for his grandmother.
DAY ONE – TUESDAY, 14 FEBRUARY, AFTERNOON
‘Who are they from?’ Sergeant Mitz Patel stared at the enormous bunch of scarlet anemone blooms on the desk.
DI Robyn Carter shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’
‘How romantic,’ said PC Anna Shamash, pushing her face closer to them and inhaling deeply. ‘They don’t have any scent but they’re absolutely beautiful. Well, whoever it is, they’ve spent a fortune on you. Must be smitten.’
Robyn snorted in an unladylike manner, her attention on a report she was reading. ‘I can’t think why,’ she mumbled.
‘Maybe they’re from DCI Flint as a thank you for all your hard work.’ PC David Marker grinned and waited for a response from his superior.
Robyn grunted. She wasn’t even listening.
‘Have you got any plans for tonight, David?’ Anna’s dark eyebrows were raised and a smile played across her lips.
David shrugged good-naturedly. ‘I forgot it was Valentine’s Day and got the big freeze from the ball and chain so I nipped out at lunchtime and bought her a charm bracelet. She’s been hankering after one for ages. I’ll give it to her tonight and pretend I haven’t forgotten at all, that I was waiting to surprise her. I also booked a table for two at that new posh place in Stafford.’
‘It’s always fully booked – how did you get in there?’ Anna asked.
David spun on his chair, twirling his pencil. ‘I was really lucky. There’d been a cancellation. I’m going to be husband of the year after tonight. Might get some peace and quiet now when I try to watch the football, instead of, “Can you put up those shelves?” or, “The dustbin needs emptying.”’
Mitz shook his head. ‘You’re such a romantic, David.’
‘You wait until you’re married, Sarge. It’ll change your life.’ David winked.
It had recently come to light that Mitz had begun dating Anna. Both were keeping it quiet and behaving professionally in the office, but the entire team was aware of the fledgling relationship.
‘Can you lot get on with some work, please?’ Robyn was uncharacteristically snappy. Mitz looked across at Anna, who shrugged. Anna slid into her seat and began wrestling with a burglary report that had to be completed. The office fell quiet. Robyn tapped at her keyboard and deleted what she’d written, then swivelled to face the window. She was about to speak when DI Tom Shearer banged on the open door once and leant against the doorframe, hands in his pockets.
His gaze lit on the floral display. ‘Flint wants us, that is, if you’re not too busy. Taken up flower arranging, DI Carter?’
She ignored his comment, collected her phone and walked towards the door. Shearer let her go ahead and faced Mitz. ‘She okay?’ he mouthed.
Mitz shook his head. ‘No.’
Shearer nodded and strode after her, catching up with her as she reached the stairs.
‘Sorry about the flower-arranging quip. That’s me – open mouth, say something stupid, brain catches up later.’
She paused for a moment, looked at Shearer. ‘It’s not like you to be bothered about what you say, Tom. You’re renowned for your sarcastic wit. That was quite a good comment by your standards.’
He smiled. ‘I thought I’d been less than sensitive, what with Valentine’s Day and Davies and everything,’ he said, his words drying up. ‘Shit, I’m no good at this sort of thing. Look, I’m sorry, okay?’
She buried a pang of hurt. ‘It’s been two years, Tom. I’m fine. Today is just another day. You didn’t upset me.’
‘Good. Glad that’s settled,’ he said.
Detective Chief Inspector Flint’s office was much more sterile since he’d taken it over. It had once belonged to DCI Louisa Mulholland, who had worked and lived in there, rarely leaving to go home and always arriving early, way before her officers. Gone was the collection of memorabilia that had been on windowsills. The ornaments and Corgi police car Louisa had received for a birthday had gone with her to Yorkshire, where she’d taken up a new position. The large number of photographs that had adorned the wall had been removed, leaving several dark patches as a reminder. Flint’s desk was impossibly tidy with only a leather desk blotter and matching square pen pot and business card holder on display. A tray containing documents had been pushed to one side of the desk, and in front of it was a silver-framed photograph of him and his wife taken at a police ball.
‘Tom, Robyn, sit down.’ Flint was as red-faced as usual. A roll of fat hung over his collar. He loosened the blue tie he was wearing as if it was choking him, and he swallowed. ‘I wanted to give you the heads up about the latest development at the station. As you are aware, the counterterrorism department has increased over the last year, and the powers that be have decided it requires more operational space. We looked at all the possibilities, but with the constraints we have on our budget, the only viable option is to increase their current space by knocking through into the room next door, which is currently Tom’s office.’
Robyn had a feeling she knew where this was going. Flint eased back into his chair, one leg draped over the other. His trousers rode up to reveal dark socks bearing the Batman logo.
‘That raises the issue of where to house Tom and his team. Robyn, your office has sufficient space to accommodate another three members of staff and equipment. This will only be a temporary situation as we’re considering other possibilities for Tom, and I appreciate it isn’t ideal for you both, but I also have confidence you’ll manage. You’re both resourceful officers.’
Regardless of the sudden sinking feeling in her stomach, Robyn maintained a poker face. This was all she needed, snarky Tom Shearer in her space every single day. There was nothing she could do about it. Flint, or the super, had made the decision. If she started griping, it would reflect badly on her, especially as Tom was looking quite calm about it. This was most unlike him. She couldn’t be bothered to argue. The decision had been made.
Flint studied his officers. ‘You’ll need to shift your gear out by start of the day tomorrow, Tom. We want to get the workmen in as soon as possible.’
Shearer spoke. ‘Yes, sir.’
Flint’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. ‘Okay, that was easier than I expected. I thought you might have issues with this decision?’
‘No, sir. I’m fine about it. Robyn?’
Robyn nodded her accord.
Flint looked relieved. ‘Okay. That’s it. Thank you for your cooperation.’
Outside again in the corridor, Robyn faced Shearer. ‘What’s with all the “yes, sir”, “no, sir” nonsense? You’re going to hate sharing your space with me. We have very different ways of doing things.’
‘You’ll hate it more,’ he said with a smirk. ‘We’ll have to make the best of it. I’m not keen, but it’ll only be for a short while. We could draw chalk marks on the floor and divide the place up so we don’t get in each other’s way. Bagsy I get the side with the coffee machine.’
‘No way! That stays in my section. You and your officers can keep your hands off it.’
The corners of his mouth twitched upwards. ‘That’s better. More like your old self. It was like you were in another world or time zone in Flint’s office. Normally you’d have created seven bells about sharing with me. What’s going on?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing. I’m having an off day, that’s all.’
‘Can’t say I’ve ever noticed you having one of those before. You’re like Wonder Woman most days. You whirl into the station, spin about and whirl out.’
‘Now you’re going to be in my face every day, you’ll probably see more of my off days.’ She attempted a small grin. ‘Wonder Woman?’
Shearer laughed. ‘I could have described you like the Looney Tunes Tasmanian devil, but you’re in a bad enough mood.’
‘You’d better not come out with any of this sort of stuff in front of my officers, DI Shearer, or you’ll really see my bad side.’
‘Don’t tempt me. You know I can’t resist a challenge,’ he said.
‘I mean it. It’s one thing to be sarcastic out of earshot and another if you undermine me in front of my officers.’ She threw him a steely gaze.
He gave a grunt. ‘Okay. I can see you really have got out of the wrong side of bed today. I’ll leave you to it.’
The office was buzzing quietly with activity. Sergeant Matt Higham had arrived and was attempting to coax the photocopier into life by thumping it.
‘Listen up, everyone.’ Robyn’s voice made them all look up. ‘We’ve got to shift the furniture around and make room for company. DI Shearer and his team are moving in with us for an indefinite period.’
Mitz let out a long groan. ‘Please tell us you’re joking.’
She shook her head. ‘It’s come from upstairs. Counterterrorism is expanding into DI Shearer’s office and he’s being moved in with us. I don’t like it any more than you do, but we’re all adults and can get along, can’t we? You’ve all worked with him and his officers on various cases. There shouldn’t be an issue here.’
Mitz voiced all their thoughts. ‘Working with them is different to having to share our space with them every day.’
‘Sorry, Mitz. Like it or not, they’re moving in.’
Matt thumped the photocopier once more. ‘Better move the biscuits to a better hiding place,’ he said, looking at Anna. ‘If I can find them, that lot will.’
Anna’s mouth opened. ‘I knew it was you who was eating them.’
He gave a winning smile. ‘Man cannot survive on coffee alone.’
An officer knocked on the door and waved a piece of paper. ‘Excuse me, ma’am. This has come through. Forensics called it in. They’re at the scene.’
Robyn read through the information at speed. ‘It looks like a murder’s taken place on Cannock Chase. Male, in his thirties, shot in the neck. Okay, team, let’s go check it out.’
Daylight was fading as Robyn pulled off the road and drove towards the blue lights of parked squad cars. The area was crawling with white-suited officers. A makeshift screen had been erected, hiding the car and occupant, and floodlights now lit the grassy space and woods beyond. Robyn and her team made themselves known to the officer standing in front of the cordon stretching far into the woods, before donning the protective clothing and dipping under the yellow tape. A figure handed over a plastic bag to another officer and, with a wave of his hand, beckoned them over.
Connor Richards, originally from Dublin, was in charge of the forensic team. He’d had fifteen years’ experience in Ireland before taking up his position in Stafford. Robyn had heard colleagues commenting that his easy manner and soft Irish accent made the unpleasant act of examining a crime scene seem more bearable. At the moment, nothing could be seen of Connor other than his eyes, the colour of Wedgwood blue. He acknowledged the trio and lowered his face mask to speak.
‘We haven’t got too much at this stage for you, Robyn. We’re still collecting evidence. Found his driving licence in his wallet along with a credit card and twenty pounds. The victim is Henry Gregson, aged thirty-three, and lives in Brocton. He’s wearing a wedding ring, and judging by the logo on his shirt, he works at the MiniMarkt convenience store in Lichfield. We think he was murdered sometime between 1 and 3 p.m.’ He shook his head as he spoke. ‘It was a little lad who found him. Must have been a heck of a shock for him.’
Mitz made a tutting noise. ‘Awful,’ he said, quietly.
‘The pathologist’s confirmed Gregson received a single fatal gunshot to the neck that punctured the carotid, the main artery in the neck, and undoubtedly death was instantaneous. We found no evidence of a struggle inside the car. There’s no damage or scuff marks; in fact, little sign of movement, suggesting Gregson died immediately. The passenger window was lowered at the time of the shot, which allowed the bullet to enter the car unimpeded.’ He squinted at an almost invisible speck on the ground. ‘So far, we haven’t uncovered any prints on the passenger side of the vehicle. Indeed, it appears the passenger door, handle and seat have all been wiped clean. Gregson’s injuries and the extent of tissue damage surrounding the wound suggest the weapon wasn’t fired at close range. More likely the assailant was approximately three yards away. The bullet entered the left side of his neck, and, as there’s no obvious exit hole, I assume it’s lodged inside his body.’
‘He’s still in situ?’ Robyn asked.
‘Sure he is, we waited for you. Follow me.’ Connor pulled up his mask again. He picked his way carefully towards the screen. Behind it was a red Kia Sportage. The doors were open, and sitting in the driver’s seat was Henry Gregson, his head tilted back against the headrest, his tongue out and eyes open. Robyn studied the circular hole with abraded skin, crusted with bright red blood. The stain had spilled down onto the collar of his white shirt to form a crimson bib around his neck. His hands, palms facing upwards, were resting on his thighs, and Robyn noted the wedding band on his ring finger. Henry Gregson had been undoubtedly classically good-looking, clean-shaven, with dark wavy hair, olive eyes, a slightly Roman nose, white teeth and a strong square jaw. A tie was coiled neatly on the passenger seat beside him as if it had recently been removed. Robyn cast a look around the interior. Connor was right. There was no sign of a struggle. Henry’s car was immaculately clean: the dark plastic dashboard was free of smudges and smears. He’d even got a microfibre cloth in the door pocket to keep it spotless.
‘It’s a clean shot. I’d suggest whoever did this is used to firing weapons,’ said Connor.
Anna appeared by Robyn’s side. ‘He’s not wearing a seatbelt,’ she said.
Connor shook his head. ‘He wasn’t wearing one when we found him. The radio was on though – tuned to Classic FM. It appears he was either taking time out to enjoy some solitude here on the Chase or he was waiting for somebody.’
Robyn looked at the thick padded jacket lying on the back seat. ‘It’s been a cold day. Not the sort of day to come out to the Chase for a walk.’
‘He might have wanted some time to think. I usually take Rascal for a walk when I want to mull things over,’ said Anna.
‘That’s quite possible,’ Robyn replied. ‘This isn’t a car park, is it?’ She looked around the grassed area.
Connor spoke. ‘The main car park is over by the activity centre. This is just a clearing, accessible only by the route you took from the main road.’
Robyn looked at the body again then moved to the rear of the vehicle. There was a sticker on his back windscreen – ‘Baby on Board’ – and she shivered, not from cold but from the knowledge that a child was now fatherless, and his partner or wife would have to learn the horrible truth that her man was never coming home again. Today of all days.
Connor joined her and spoke again. ‘I think you’ll be interested in evidence bag F101. It contains Gregson’s mobile phone. We suspect he was using it when he got shot. We found it under the passenger seat, hidden from view. It was tricky to coax it out. Had to use a piece of wire and ingenuity to reach it. I’ll make sure you get it pronto. Just need to check it over for prints first. If you don’t mind, I’d better get on. We’ve a large area to cover.’
She nodded her appreciation. ‘I’ll see you back at the station later.’
‘I expect that’s messed up any Valentine’s Day plans you’ve made,’ he said with a light shrug of his shoulders. ‘I called Kate to explain I’d been called out. She wasn’t best pleased. Sometimes, I worry this job will mess up every relationship I attempt.’
Connor had been with florist Kate for six months; she was a good-time girl who loved partying and letting her hair down. Robyn had met her at a police event and noted her self-centred attitude, the looks she threw Connor when he was talking to others and paying her insufficient attention, and the way she clung to his arm in a proprietorial manner whenever they were together. Robyn was sure Kate would get fed up of the broken-off engagements and abandoned plans. It was tough being in a relationship with anyone in this line of work. She took a deep breath to prevent herself dwelling on thoughts of Davies again. She couldn’t afford to think about him at a time like this.
She walked some of the area, head down, noting the position of the vehicle before checking the car again and taking a last look at Henry Gregson. Then she ducked back under the crime scene tape, removed the protective clothing, dropping it in the bin provided, and strode to the squad car. Mitz and Anna had shadowed her movements in silence. Standing beside the squad car, Robyn pinched her nostrils together then spoke. ‘Mitz, is the little boy who found Gregson still here?’
Mitz shook his head. ‘No, guv. He was taken home. I have the address. Mrs Price, his grandmother, gave a statement before leaving. The boy, Aiden Moore, was following the Gruffalo Spotting Trail with his older brother.’ Seeing the puzzled look on Robyn’s face, he explained. ‘It’s basically a route that allows children to search for characters from the book The Gruffalo. Once they find special markers, they’re able to point a mobile phone at them and watch the characters appear on their screens. The markers activate a 3D animation of that chara
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