Loamfield paused for a long time. Robin would have thought the call had disconnected, if he didn’t hear the man’s short, sharp breaths. “You know, Mr. Ferringham, if this were any other case, I’d be asking if you were a journalist, but I guess it doesn’t really matter. There’s only a matter of days before McConnell’s court date.”

“And when is that?”

“This Friday. He goes before the court to receive a date for his trial, and to decide conditions, if any, for bail.”

Friday. Today was Sunday. Five days. Five days until what was probably the best chance of helping Matthew. And five days to get answers about Sam.

“And do you think he’s likely to get bail?”

“Not a chance in hell,” Loamfield said, almost like he was smiling on the other end. It was the first time he’d shown anything even vaguely akin to a personality, and Robin far preferred the emotionless android he had been mere seconds ago.

“Thank you, Mr. Loamfield,” Robin said, closing out the conversation.

“Not at all, Mr. Ferringham. And if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to call.”

Robin put the phone down. It wasn’t until he changed trains at Leeds and was on his way to Marsden that he realized Mr. Loamfield hadn’t given him his phone number.

Chapter Six

Marsden Station was merely a freestanding train platform with no buildings—only a ticket machine placed haphazardly against a board with a chart of train times pinned to it. Robin was the only one to get off, and he watched as the train left him there in solitude.

He looked to his surroundings to see that he had been dropped by a small parking lot and a pub called The Train-Car, which stood just over a small stone bridge. Past that, there was a steady hill lined with residential houses looking to lead down into what he would guess was Marsden proper.

He started to make his way over the bridge and looked down to see a body of water. The Huddersfield Narrow. He had seen it on Google Maps, when he had sought out a map of Standedge and the surroundings. The Narrow snaked its way through Marsden until it disappeared into the tunnel. This section ran almost parallel to the train line, segmenting it off from the rest of Marsden.

From the map he’d seen on his phone screen, Standedge lay off to the right. He wanted to go there and see the tunnel for himself, but first he decided he should really find somewhere to stay.