there might be more to this kidnapping than first appeared. As a consequence, she spent some considerable time sitting down with Mrs Cannon, Mr Kane and the various employees and acquaintances who made up Mr Victor Cannon’s daily life. Her goal was to obtain as full and complete an understanding of the hostage as possible.
Within a relatively short period of time, Dr Cole had reached the conclusion that Mr Cannon’s state of mind prior to his disappearance was unstable enough to cause her no small degree of concern.
It became apparent that Cannon-Kane was in fact close to financial collapse, and that the most likely outcome for Mr Cannon would then be bankruptcy. Although reluctant to discuss such personal matters initially, following much prompting, Mrs Cannon revealed that she and her husband had recently discussed separating and that their marriage had been going through an extremely difficult time of late.
A search of Mr Cannon’s office and questioning of his employees revealed that he had been drinking heavily and had made, on more than one occasion, references to the fact that the world would be improved should he be removed from it.
Another search of the local area was organised, this one concentrating on isolated spots, abandoned buildings, etc. Five days after the initial call was placed, Mr Cannon’s body was eventually located in a disused warehouse approximately half a mile away from the Cannon-Kane offices. He had hanged himself.
Note
In the aftermath of this case, ongoing psychological support was set up for Mr Cannon’s wife and colleagues by Selena Cole. Following our experiences in the Cannon-Kane case, the Cole Group expanded its portfolio of services to offer training in trauma risk management (TRIM) for each of its clients, as well as establishing a crisis line available 24/7 for those employees in a state of immediate crisis.
Eighty-two days
DS Finn Hale: Tuesday, 5.36 p.m.
I FLOP INTO my chair. The office is still busy, people coming, going, even though the light is beginning to fade. I look out of the window, my own reflection looking back at me, lines of traffic criss-crossing my face, people heading out after a long working day. It’s different for us. We won’t be going anywhere any time soon.
‘Christa,’ I call. ‘You get anything back on Beck Chambers?’
She looks up at me, seems to take a moment to shift from what she’s doing to what I’m asking her. ‘Chambers … no. Not yet. He paid us a visit this weekend. Spent the night in one of our superior rooms after a night of heavy drinking. Was released Monday lunchtime and has, apparently, vanished into thin air. We’ve got a team trying to dig him out.’ She glances at the clock, spares me a quick grin. ‘They’ll be racking up the overtime tonight.’
‘Won’t we all?’ I mutter.
I glance to Leah’s desk. Still empty. She should be back by now. I pick up the phone. Put it down again. Then stare at it. Like that will make a difference.
I called my neighbour, on my way back to the nick. A retired teacher, Stan, says he’s getting fat, that the sedentary life style doesn’t agree with him. He laughed when he heard my voice. Another late one, then? Ah, you youngsters. Yes, I’ll get the dog, take him for a good run. I’ll not be running, though. Just to clear that one up.
I look at the photo stuck to my computer. Strider. A long-haired German Shepherd. He was supposed to be a police dog. That, it had seemed, was his destiny. But his trainer said he was just too stupid. Lovely dog, affectionate as the day is long. Unfortunately dumb as a brush. It’s been, what, four years now?
He’s still stupid.
It didn’t take Isaac too long to run out of tears. It took him less time still to run out of words. So in the end, we just sat there, me and him, sharing a stultifying silence.
‘Is there someone I can call? Someone you would like to be with you?’ I asked. It feels a lot like guilt, this awareness that you have
Within a relatively short period of time, Dr Cole had reached the conclusion that Mr Cannon’s state of mind prior to his disappearance was unstable enough to cause her no small degree of concern.
It became apparent that Cannon-Kane was in fact close to financial collapse, and that the most likely outcome for Mr Cannon would then be bankruptcy. Although reluctant to discuss such personal matters initially, following much prompting, Mrs Cannon revealed that she and her husband had recently discussed separating and that their marriage had been going through an extremely difficult time of late.
A search of Mr Cannon’s office and questioning of his employees revealed that he had been drinking heavily and had made, on more than one occasion, references to the fact that the world would be improved should he be removed from it.
Another search of the local area was organised, this one concentrating on isolated spots, abandoned buildings, etc. Five days after the initial call was placed, Mr Cannon’s body was eventually located in a disused warehouse approximately half a mile away from the Cannon-Kane offices. He had hanged himself.
Note
In the aftermath of this case, ongoing psychological support was set up for Mr Cannon’s wife and colleagues by Selena Cole. Following our experiences in the Cannon-Kane case, the Cole Group expanded its portfolio of services to offer training in trauma risk management (TRIM) for each of its clients, as well as establishing a crisis line available 24/7 for those employees in a state of immediate crisis.
Eighty-two days
DS Finn Hale: Tuesday, 5.36 p.m.
I FLOP INTO my chair. The office is still busy, people coming, going, even though the light is beginning to fade. I look out of the window, my own reflection looking back at me, lines of traffic criss-crossing my face, people heading out after a long working day. It’s different for us. We won’t be going anywhere any time soon.
‘Christa,’ I call. ‘You get anything back on Beck Chambers?’
She looks up at me, seems to take a moment to shift from what she’s doing to what I’m asking her. ‘Chambers … no. Not yet. He paid us a visit this weekend. Spent the night in one of our superior rooms after a night of heavy drinking. Was released Monday lunchtime and has, apparently, vanished into thin air. We’ve got a team trying to dig him out.’ She glances at the clock, spares me a quick grin. ‘They’ll be racking up the overtime tonight.’
‘Won’t we all?’ I mutter.
I glance to Leah’s desk. Still empty. She should be back by now. I pick up the phone. Put it down again. Then stare at it. Like that will make a difference.
I called my neighbour, on my way back to the nick. A retired teacher, Stan, says he’s getting fat, that the sedentary life style doesn’t agree with him. He laughed when he heard my voice. Another late one, then? Ah, you youngsters. Yes, I’ll get the dog, take him for a good run. I’ll not be running, though. Just to clear that one up.
I look at the photo stuck to my computer. Strider. A long-haired German Shepherd. He was supposed to be a police dog. That, it had seemed, was his destiny. But his trainer said he was just too stupid. Lovely dog, affectionate as the day is long. Unfortunately dumb as a brush. It’s been, what, four years now?
He’s still stupid.
It didn’t take Isaac too long to run out of tears. It took him less time still to run out of words. So in the end, we just sat there, me and him, sharing a stultifying silence.
‘Is there someone I can call? Someone you would like to be with you?’ I asked. It feels a lot like guilt, this awareness that you have
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