Cut to the Bone (38 page)

With her free hand, Stevie twisted Rachel’s fingers until she released the knife. Stevie then punched her in the face, knocking the younger girl back. Stevie was now on top of Rachel, pinning her to the floor.

She reached for the handcuffs she’d carefully concealed inside her jacket, trapping Rachel’s wrists in front of her chest. Rachel tried to scrabble away, get to her feet, so Stevie tripped her onto the sofa and ended up sitting on top of her as she secured the handcuffs and then called for back-up. All the while, her own blood was gushing from the open stab wound. Please don’t let me black out, she thought.

PART SIX

THE RECKONING

Chapter One Hundred and Six

Kate had just showered, ready for a night watching a familiar movie with her mother, when the text from Brennan had come through. Left without someone to look after Jane, Kate had brought her with her, put her in Julie Trent’s office.

Rachel was like a zombie, incommunicative and sullen. She was still in her dressing gown, had refused to change into the clothes that officers had packed for her. She was shivering constantly. Looking at her, knowing what Brennan had discovered, it was obvious. You could tell how young she was by the insecurity of her body language, the sheer panic she exuded.

She had stabbed Brennan, cutting through arteries and flesh, but luckily missing any vital organs. Brennan was in hospital recovering, but Kate couldn’t see Rachel as anything but a victim. She had been fourteen or fifteen at most when James Fogg had met her. That was a sickening place to start. Rachel’s parents had been contacted, were on their way from Bristol.

They confirmed that Rachel had left home four months previously, that she had been a child prodigy in some ways. Michelle had pulled articles from local papers in Bristol, Rachel passing her A Levels early, getting a place at King’s College.

With Brennan in hospital, and Pelt carrying out a search of James’s property, Kate was relying on Harris. Could she believe him when he said he wasn’t the source of the on going leak to Hope? She didn’t know. She needed him, though; he had been involved from the start, and the investigation was hopefully hitting its home straight.

She watched Rachel through the two-way glass, the tension and nerves buzzing through her. Her lawyer hadn’t arrived yet. Kate knew the young girl wouldn’t say anything. A psychiatrist was also on the way. Kate didn’t let herself think of what James Fogg had done to her. And if their relationship had been sexual before her sixteenth birthday, then that was a whole other angle to the ‘nice’ boyfriend James.

Kate wondered how Ruby had managed to bag herself men like James and Dan. Was she that low on self-esteem? It made her blood boil, the way women could be broken down in that way. She thought of Laura Day’s story; like mother, like daughter, she reflected with a mix of sympathy and sadness.

‘James’s phone is dead,’ said Zain, coming up behind her. ‘They can’t track it. He must have killed it and be using another number. Probably pay as you go. Rachel texted to let him know she had company. He told her not to panic, to remain calm. That was it. He was a couple of miles north of Winchester when he sent that. We’ve put out an alert on his car. Nothing so far, though.’

‘What’s happening with his computers?’

‘I left Michelle to look over them. Pelt secured them when he got there, put them in special bags. Brennan had them disconnected as soon as back-up arrived, just before she passed out. Hopefully, James has no idea what’s happened, but when he doesn’t hear from Rachel, he might guess. Still, he won’t have had a chance to wipe anything.’

‘You’re assuming James wiped Ruby’s hard drives?’

‘It makes sense. They were wiped in two attacks. He must have, if he was behind this. Then I guess MINDNET were responsible for the second attack.’

‘We have Rachel’s phone, if James gets in touch. I’ll send a text message from it.’

‘I think he might be tracking it. She has GPS on it; he might already know where she is. It might explain why he’s gone dark.’

Kate remembered the charming young man she had met. The man Laura Day had wanted her daughter to be with. And now? Was it possible he had taken Ruby? What was his motive? Was it Rachel?

‘She’s not going to tell us anything. The way she attacked Brennan, she must be involved somehow. I feel for her. James Fogg has truly messed her up.’

‘So what do we do?’ said Zain.

‘Find me something that will make her talk. I need to shatter the illusion that is James. And get DS Helen Lowe alerted. I want her leading the search for James in Hampshire. We haven’t found the gun he used on Ruby, so he is potentially armed and he’s probably desperate. Especially when he realises what’s happened. And desperate people are always the most dangerous.’

Kate looked again at Rachel, the child woman who was tapping at her face, running her fingers through her hair. There was something so innocent about the gesture, so normal. Kate wanted to comfort her, let her know she wasn’t to blame for what James had done to her.

Part of Kate was disappointed. She had wanted it to be Byrne and his father; she had wanted to bring them down for what they had done. Finish Ruby’s work. Finish work she had started with her own father. Rachel didn’t seem like a deserving villain, someone to punish for all this. The sympathy was too distracting, though. It had to be kept for later.

First, Kate had to run Rachel through the fire, make her reveal her secrets.

Chapter One Hundred and Seven

Zain felt odd being back in Regus House. Everything felt like it was happening for the last time. There was no coming back from the things he had done. Hope, Barry, Jed. He had acted out too many times. Kate would have no recourse but to get rid of him.

‘How’s it going?’ he asked Michelle.

She turned a pale face to him, her eyes red. She shook her head, and he thought she was about to cry.

‘What did you find?’

‘I can’t even . . .’ she began, and pointed to the printer instead.

Zain picked up the stack of documents, went back to his own desk, started reading through them. He understood then why Michelle was in such a bad place. She had kids. Zain thought of his own step sisters. The same age as the girls on the pages he was reading.

‘Fucking hell,’ he said. ‘I’m going to rip his balls off when we find him.’

‘I’ll help,’ said Michelle.

Zain was in the conference room with Kate and Michelle. Rob was on Skype from the house James and Rachel shared.

‘It’s not easy listening, this,’ Zain warned everyone in the room.

‘You never are, mate,’ said Rob.

‘Michelle asked me to deliver this, so hope that’s OK,’ said Zain.

Michelle looked away, and for a moment Zain thought she might be physically sick.

‘James Fogg’s computers have revealed some disturbing things. For starters, there are files on there going back years. This isn’t something new. All of it behind passwords, so even those living with him wouldn’t be able to access it without knowing his security. And I doubt he shared any of this.’

‘What are we looking at?’ said Kate.

‘Messages. That’s the first thing. From his YouTube account, from his Instagram and from his Twitter. He’s been interacting with his fans. You see, even though he’s no longer doing videos, he still gets hits. And young girls are still contacting him. And he’s replying to them. And it’s not just a thank you for watching and liking. He’s sending them personal messages. Most are deleted, but the recent conversations are all on there.’

‘He’s a paedo?’ said Rob.

‘Looks like it. There are girls as young as ten we’ve found so far, that he’s sent suggestive messages to. It’s the teenage girls, though; they’re the ones he’s been messing with. Sending them inappropriate pictures.’

‘We’re all adults here,’ said Kate. ‘I want to know what we’re working with.’

‘Usual crap. Selfies, torso shots, dick shots. He’s then asked them to send him revealing pictures back. Persuading some of these girls to send him pictures of their breasts, of their . . .’

‘I don’t want to know. I’m in the fucking pervert’s house,’ said Rob.

‘And they respond to this?’ said Kate.

‘He’s groomed them, sent them multiple messages daily, made it seem as though he’s having a relationship or something with them.’

‘Is it all virtual? Has he met any of these girls?’ said Kate.

‘Yes. It’s clear from the messages he’s swapped numbers online. Then it goes quiet online. Only a couple of girls have messaged him afterwards saying how great it was to meet him.’

The room was quiet. They were all probably conjuring the same images as he and Michelle had. This was the worst. No matter who you spoke to, anything involving kids was always the crappiest part of their job. Luckily, he had mainly dealt with men threatening to release smallpox onto the tube system. None of it made him feel as sick as he had felt reading through James Fogg’s hard drive. All the time he was transposing the faces of Holly and Lucy, his step sisters, onto those of the girls involved. If someone did this to them, Zain would tear them apart. And these girls were someone’s daughters, someone’s sisters. He would do the same on their behalf.

‘We also found pictures he kept. And videos.’

He didn’t want to explain; he didn’t need to. No one asked him to.

‘Is there any evidence that Ruby knew?’ said Kate.

‘No. We looked. There are no messages. We do have the texts and phone calls to James. She asked to meet him a few times, saying she really needed to speak to him. Nothing to say it was about this.’

‘Then we keep looking,’ said Kate. ‘Pelt, I know it’s not pleasant, but I need you to check for anything that might be a keepsake. And I want his clothes bagged and checked. Rachel and Ruby are not the only victims in this.’

Zain felt bile rising up his throat.

‘Now we just have to find the fucker,’ he said.

Chapter One Hundred and Eight

Kate sat opposite Rachel, who was calmer now. She had her lawyer with her, Augusta Khew, who specialised in cases of child abuse. It was a dirty job, dealing with paedophiles.

Augusta had explained to Kate that she had started off with lofty ideals at one time. Only, as a woman back then, she found it difficult to break through. The biggest cases she got were the ones nobody else wanted, so experience made her an expert at dealing with the worst dregs of society.

With Augusta was Melissa Sweeney. She was a psychologist, working on the opposite side to Augusta. She dealt with the victims, not the abusers.

Rachel was both in a way. She was a victim without doubt in Kate’s eyes. She might also be a criminal, though, if she had helped James.

Augusta had advised Rachel to answer any questions put to her that she felt able. ‘No comment’ was never a good option when the charges were serious, she told her. Juries always took it as a sign of guilt.

‘When did you and James first have sex? Can you remember?’ Kate asked.

‘No,’ said Rachel. ‘I was old enough. I was sixteen.’

‘You can’t remember the date you first had sex? Was he your first?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t know, Rachel. I’m probably three times as old as you, nearly,’ said Kate. ‘And I can remember. Girls don’t forget. I could give you the date, time, place and who it was with. Even now. And you can’t remember such an important thing that happened within the last seven months? Because you only turned sixteen then, right?’

‘It was in May sometime,’ she said. ‘Yes, May the fifteenth.’

‘What day was it? Was it in the morning or evening?’

‘I can’t remember the day . . . it was in the evening . . .’

‘At his home?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you were already living together by then?’

‘No. I didn’t move in until September.’

‘So in May, you were still living with your parents?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you came down from Bristol? For the day?’

‘No, I stayed over.’

‘With James?’

‘Yes.’

‘How did you get here?’

‘By train.’

‘How did you buy the ticket?’

‘Cash.’

‘What did you tell your parents?’

‘I said I was meeting a friend in London.’

‘And they just let you go?’

‘Yes.’

‘So you can remember how you paid for the train, how you got here and what excuse you gave your parents, yet you struggle to recall the date? I don’t believe you, Rachel,’ Kate said.

‘Steady on, detective. My client has answered your question. She probably just needed time to remember the date under pressure,’ said Augusta.

‘Do you remember your first time?’ said Kate.

The lawyer arched an eyebrow, didn’t reply.

The interview room was stuffy when Kate went back in. Melissa had asked for a break when Rachel had started crying. Kate had pushed her on alibis for herself and James, the evening Ruby disappeared. Asking her to describe what they had done in detail, what they had watched.

Rachel hadn’t been expecting to be in this situation, and she wasn’t prepared for being scrutinised. Kate had confused her, causing her to crack.

It had been thirty minutes now. Kate had checked in with Harris, who said they still had no trace on James. He might be driving with his licence plates hidden, he thought.

Rachel was drinking water when Kate sat down and spread her paperwork over the table between them. She switched the recording device back on. A digital camera capturing image and sound, and time stamping the interview.

Kate knew Rachel was under a spell, devoted to James Fogg and caught up in some misplaced, ill-advised sense of love and loyalty to him. She wanted to break that, and she had a feeling she knew how.

‘Rachel, we pulled these documents from James’s computers. The ones we took from your home. I’ll give you a few minutes to read through them.’

Kate watched as Rachel turned the pages, her eyes speed-reading the messages. The shaking started up again. Augusta and Melissa both read their own copies, both keeping their faces impassive. Augusta locked eyes with Kate at one point, gave a subtle shake to her head.