Blood Money (6 page)

‘And you looked up and saw her. Just take a minute to think carefully. This is really important. Now, what did she look like?’ They’d get as much as they could now, and if necessary bring in a psychologist later to take her back over the events again.

Leanne shrugged, and Mariner’s hopes sank a little. ‘She was ordinary, no different from the other mums who come here. And I only glanced at her for a second.’

They sank further. ‘Had you ever seen her before?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘What about her hair colour?’

‘It was sort of brown, I think. But it might have been blonde.’

Mariner was beginning to see Samantha’s point, that the girl wasn’t very bright. ‘Was she tall or short?’

She looked around her as if trying to judge alongside them all, but failed to come to a decision.

‘Thin or overweight?’ Mariner persisted.

Another shrug.

Mariner bit back his frustration. From where he stood by the beanbag he glanced over at the door. He squatted down to the level at which Leanne would have been and, from that perspective, suddenly he could see why Leanne’s memory was hazy at that point. The autumn leaves would have obscured most of the view. ‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Let’s try something different. How did this woman behave?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did she hesitate at all?’

‘She might have, I don’t know. I was trying to quieten Ellie.’

‘Okay, so she was standing in the doorway, then what did she do?’

‘She went over to Jessica.’

‘And how did Jessica react?’

‘She didn’t. She was asleep in her car seat. She’d nodded off.’

‘Her car seat?’

‘Yeah, you know the baby seats with the handle that you strap into the car.’

‘Okay, then what happened?’

‘I think I said, “Oh you’re Jessica’s mummy.”’

‘So you told her the baby’s name, before she said it.’

She blushed again. ‘I suppose I must have done.’

‘Did she say anything else?’

‘Something like: “Oh there she is, my little sweetheart. Mummy’s come to take you home.” The usual stuff that mummies say. Then she asked how she’d been, and I said, “Fine.”

‘She asked me when Jessica had been fed and changed, so I said that we’d had to change her when she was sick, and that her feeding chart was on the wall by her coat and bag.’ Leanne nodded towards the little row of pegs with name labels above, that ran along one wall of the room. ‘She went and got them, then picked up Jessica’s car seat, said thanks and went.’

‘And she gave you no reason to think that there was anything wrong at this time?’

‘Why would I? She just went straight over to the baby. I mean, what mother doesn’t know her own child? And I was pretty busy trying to stop Ellie from crying. To be honest I was glad we’d have one less to think about.’

‘What time was this?’

‘About half past two.’

Christ, it had happened hours ago. The woman could be anywhere by now. They’d have to go national with the publicity right away. The press office would need to get busy with this one with maximum exposure.

‘And when did you first realise something was amiss?’

Kam spoke up. ‘Not until Jessica’s real mummy came to collect her and we found that she wasn’t here. At first we couldn’t understand what had happened. It didn’t make sense.’

Leanne’s face had creased into a frown as if it still was a mystery.

‘What was Jessica wearing?’ Mariner asked.

‘A yellow Babygro with a cardigan over the top,’ said Leanne, but even this detail wasn’t straightforward.

‘No, it was green,’ Kam chipped in.

‘It was yellow.’ Leanne stuck to her story. ‘I put it on after she was sick at lunchtime.’

Kam didn’t look convinced. They’d have to go with an either or.

‘And a Babygro is one of those little suits like Ellie is wearing?’ Mariner interrupted.

‘Yes.’ Carrying the baby, Kam went in to the bathroom and returned moments later with a mint-coloured stretchy suit. ‘It was exactly like this. We keep a supply for the babies who run out of clothes.’

‘Except it was yellow,’ muttered Leanne under her breath.

‘Can we keep that?’ Mariner asked Samantha. ‘We can show a photograph when we do the appeal. It would have this same label in the back?’ A manufacturer’s label was sewn into the neck.

‘Yes, Mrs Barratt bulk buys them as we don’t always get them returned.’

‘It doesn’t look much for this weather. It’s cool outside.’

‘Jessica had a coat but her mum - the woman - just covered her with it. She said she didn’t want to wake the baby.’

‘She took her in the car seat?’

‘Yes, most of them do,’ Samantha said. ‘We don’t have many babies whose parents live close enough to walk. They bring them in the seat in the morning and it stays here with them.’

‘What colour was the seat?’

‘It was dark blue, with a sort of tartan pattern. Her mum - the woman - said that it was heavy and that she’d got to walk a long way.’

‘Do you think she would have parked round the corner, in the cul-de-sac, like we have?’ Mariner thought hopefully of the CCTV.

‘Either that, or she might have left her car up in the hospital car park,’ Samantha said. ‘They’re not really meant to, but some parents do that if there’s no space here.’

So they’d need to get hold of any CCTV footage on the hospital site, as well as anything in the local streets. ‘Anything else?’

‘She said thanks for looking after Jessica so well,’ said Leanne. ‘It was a bit over the top really. She seemed sort of relieved. I thought maybe it was the first time she’d left her with anyone.’

‘Is it the case with all the crèche children that the staff might not have met the parents?’ Mariner asked Samantha.

‘Not all of them. Christie would know parents who leave their children for more than one day, and some parents come in later when all the girls are here.’

‘So if this woman had approached a different child, Ellie for example, you would have known that it wasn’t her child?’

‘No, we don’t know her parents either.’

But at the time the woman had come into the room Jessica was the only available baby, so there was no way of telling then whether this was a random snatch or if Jessica had been targeted.

‘Thanks, Leanne, you’ve been a great help,’ Mariner lied. He motioned Tony Knox to one side of the room.

‘I’ll have a quick word with Miss O’Brien then I need to know what progress Charlie Glover is making with the rest of the staff,’ he told Knox. ‘Find out from him if anyone else encountered this woman entering or leaving the nursery at around two thirty. Let’s hope to God that they did and we can get a half-decent description, otherwise we’re fucked. What we’ve got so far is less than useless. We can’t hit the streets until we’ve got it sharpened up or we’ll be bringing in just about every woman in south Birmingham. Let the team covering the CCTV footage know that, at the moment, we’re looking for any woman in the area carrying a baby in a car seat around two thirty this afternoon, probably, though not necessarily, walking up to the hospital site, maybe behaving strangely.’

Out in the hall it was chaos. PC Mann was trying to take details from the remaining parents, but had a backlog and a queue had formed around which the unoccupied children were running and squealing.

‘Leopold do stop!’ shrieked one of the mothers in desperation. She wore a hospital name badge so presumably was on her way home from work.

‘Please tell me that isn’t really that child’s name,’ Mariner murmured to Samantha just behind him.

‘You’d be amazed,’ she replied.

Leaving the mayhem temporarily behind him, Mariner climbed the stairs to the first floor and found his way to the staff room. Pushing open the door, Emma O’Brien’s eyes were on him immediately, filled with a desperation Mariner had seen etched on many faces over the years, and which today he could do little to alleviate. He wanted to reassure her with what they knew, but in this case it wasn’t much. Someone had made her a drink and she was clutching the mug like a prop, but it remained full almost to the brim, an oily skin forming on the surface.

Mariner sat down on one of the low seats facing her. ‘What we know is that at around half past two this afternoon a woman came into the nursery and took Jessica as if she was her child.’

Emma O’Brien let out an involuntary moan.

‘It may not sound like it, but it’s good news,’ Mariner said, quickly. ‘Because once we’ve firmed up the description we will know, to an extent, who we’re dealing with. We also have at least one witness who may be able to recognise her.’ He wouldn’t tell her yet that what they had so far was practically worthless, or that without some clue about motive they were peeing into the wind. ‘The woman also cared enough about Jessica to ask about when she’d been fed and changed, so is concerned about her wellbeing. What I want to do next is release information to the press so that we can enlist the help of the public,’ he went on, gently. ‘Do you have a recent photograph of Jessica?’

Like any proud, new parent Emma O’Brien carried several in her bag. Her hands shook and her eyes dripped as she fumbled for them. Mariner isolated the one that presented the clearest shot of Jessica, blond and blue eyed, went back out into the corridor and gave it to Knox.

‘She’s a little cracker, isn’t she?’ said Knox, taking the snapshot from him. She was a beautiful child. Even Mariner had noticed that. Had it been what had attracted the woman to her?

‘Stupid question I know, but do you think there’s any way this can have been a simple mistake?’ Mariner said.

But Knox shook his head, echoing Leanne’s words. ‘Any mother knows her child from day one.’

Mariner sighed. ‘Okay. Fax it through to the OCU along with the description of the woman and get it released to the press along with the time and location. We particularly want to hear from anyone on or around the hospital site around two thirty this afternoon, especially anyone who may have been driving past here at that time, including bus drivers. It’s a busy road and we’re hours too late, but you never know. We need to know if anyone else saw this woman entering or leaving the nursery. I want a couple of officers to stop any vehicles leaving the hospital site and uniform can start a house to house along this street and in the immediate area. There’s building work going on at the hospital, too. Make sure somebody talks to the workmen. They’re the sort of people who might just have noticed this woman.’

‘What about a press conference?’

‘We haven’t got enough for that yet. But call the press office and have them on standby, with a view to getting something out for the late evening news. We’ll set up an incident room at Granville Lane. There’s nothing big enough here.’ Mariner glanced at his watch. ‘The gaffer should be out of her meeting at Lloyd House by now, too. See if you can raise her.’ And ruin whatever plans she might have had for the weekend, too.

‘She’ll be thrilled,’ said Knox, though they’d no way of knowing what DCI Sharp’s reaction might be. So far they knew the career history; a top level Hendon graduate who worked her way rapidly through the ranks and covered ground too. She’d had four years in Manchester, five in West Mercia, seven with the Met. She knew both city and rural forces. But her personal life was a closed book. Mariner had a vague impression of someone at home, but that was it. It was something they’d never talked about. Suddenly Mariner remembered his own weekend commitment. He’d meant to call Anna back, but hadn’t got round to it. ‘Shit! I need to let Anna know what’s going on too. I’m meant to be on annual leave from tonight. When I spoke to her an hour ago I pretty much told her I was on my way.’

‘You should phone her, boss.’

‘I can’t get into that now.’

It was left for Knox to say: ‘You want me to call her?’

‘It’ll be simpler coming from someone else.’ It was pragmatic, Mariner told himself. The word had a better ring to it than ‘cowardice’. ‘Tell her I’ll call her as soon as I can.’

‘Sure.’

 

Knox stepped outside to make the call.

‘Where the hell—?’ Anna launched in.

‘It’s me,’ Knox brought her up short. ‘I’m sorry, Anna. Something’s come up that the boss has had to deal with, something urgent.’

‘Like what?’ Her voice was shot through with suspicion.

It was the last thing she’d want to hear. ‘It’s a missing baby,’ he said. ‘If you switch on the news in a bit, you’ll see.’

‘How long will he be?’

‘I don’t know. As long as it takes.’

‘I’ll get the bags out of the car again then.’

‘Yes.’

‘What about next week?’

‘I really don’t know, love. I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah, you and me both.’

Ending the call, Knox made a mental note to never do the boss’s dirty work again.

 

Mariner had returned to Emma O’Brien. ‘Have you been able to let your husband know?’ he asked.

‘My partner,’ she corrected him again. It seemed to be a sensitive issue. ‘He’s on his way here.’

‘From?’

‘Cambridge. It’s where we live and Peter works.’

‘You’re a long way from home,’ Mariner observed.

‘I was guest speaker at a conference today at the hospital. I’m something of a specialist in my field.’

‘What field is that?’

‘Sorry? Oh, sleep disorders,’ she said, absently. ‘I was honouring an arrangement I made last year to do a guest lecture on the course here. Jess was a bit of a surprise, when she came along. I’ve given up my job but I didn’t feel that I could let down the hospital.’ She gave an apologetic smile. ‘The money was good, too.’

‘So you drove over here this morning?’

‘No, we came over last night and stayed with friends in Knowle. A hotel would have been an unnecessary expense.’