Gone by Mo Hayder

out and come round. Like when Mum and Dad let me out of the car.’
    ‘So he leaned across you once to try the door? Did he touch you when he did that?’
    ‘Not really. Just brushed my arm.’
    ‘And when he got out of the car did you see his jeans?’
    Cleo gave the CAPIT woman a strange look. Then she glanced at her mother, as if to say, Are we going mad? I thought we’d gone through this already. ‘Yes,’ she said cautiously, as if this was another test of her memory. ‘They were with loops. Climber’s jeans.’
    ‘And they looked normal? Not undone like he wanted the toilet or anything?’
    She frowned, puzzled. ‘No. We didn’t stop at toilets.’
    ‘So he came round, opened the door and let you out?’
    ‘Yes. And then he drove off.’
    The clock was ticking: the day was getting away from them. Caffery could feel every passing hour like a brick piled on his back. He moved to stand behind Cleo, caught the CAPIT officer’s eye and made a circling motion with his finger. ‘Move on,’ he mouthed. ‘Move on to the route he took.’
    She raised her eyebrows coolly at him, gave him a polite smile,then calmly turned back to Cleo. ‘Let’s go back to when it first happened. Let’s imagine you’re in the car just after the caretaker’s pushed Mummy away.’
    Cleo closed her eyes again. Pressed her fingers to her forehead. ‘OK.’
    ‘You’re wearing your summer dress because it’s warm outside.’
    ‘Hot.’
    ‘The flowers are out. Can you see all the flowers?’
    ‘Yes – in the fields. There are those red ones. What’re they called, Mum?’
    ‘Poppies?’
    ‘Yes, poppies. And some white ones in the hedges. They’re a bit puffy and stalky. Like a stalk with a puff of white on them. And the other white flowers like trumpets.’
    ‘As you’re driving along are there always flowers and hedges? Or do you go past anything else?’
    ‘Umm . . .’ Cleo wrinkled her forehead. ‘Some houses. Some more fields, that deer thingy.’
    ‘Deer thingy?’
    ‘You know. Bambi.’
    ‘What’s Bambi?’ said Caffery.
    ‘The Bulmer’s factory in Shepton Mallet,’ Simone said. ‘They’ve got the Babycham fawn out at the front. She loves it. A huge great fibreglass thing.’
    The CAPIT officer said, ‘What happened then?’
    ‘Lots of roads. Lots of bends. Some more houses. And the pancake place he promised.’
    There was a moment’s silence. Then it sank in: she’d said something that hadn’t been in her first interview. Everyone looked up at the same time.
    ‘A pancake place?’ Caffery said. ‘You didn’t mention that before.’
    Cleo opened her eyes and saw them all looking at her. Her face fell. ‘I
forgot
,’ she said defensively. ‘I forgot to say it, that’s all.’
    ‘It’s OK,’ he said, holding his hand up. ‘It’s all right. It’s not a problem that you didn’t say.’
    ‘It was an
accident
that I didn’t say it before.’
    ‘Of course it was.’ The CAPIT sergeant gave Caffery a steely smile. ‘And aren’t
you
the clever one for remembering now? I reckon you’ve got a much better memory than I have.’
    ‘Have I?’ she said uncertainly, her eyes flitting from her to Caffery and back again.
    ‘
Yes!
Much,
much
better. A shame you didn’t get the pancake. That’s all I can say.’
    ‘I know. He promised me one.’
    Her eyes stopped on Caffery. Hostile. He folded his arms and forced a smile. He’d never been good with kids. He thought they saw through him most of the time. Saw the empty hole he was mostly able to keep hidden from adults.
    ‘He wasn’t very nice, then, was he, the caretaker?’ said the CAPIT officer. ‘Especially as he promised you a pancake. Where were you going to have the pancake?’
    ‘At the Little Cook. He said there was a Little Cook up there. But when we got to it he just went straight past it.’
    ‘Little Cook?’ Caffery murmured.
    ‘What did the Little Cook look like, Cleo?’
    ‘Little Cook? He’s red. And white. Holding a