Gone (17 page)

Several boxes later she still hadn’t found Emma’s records. But something else had caught her attention. Jenny Taylor had apparently sought out help too. She flicked through the file and noticed a signature on several of the sheets. B. Swales.

It looked like Lucas Yates wasn’t the only one to know both girls.

Chapter 36

15 December 2010

As Gardner walked out of the station, wondering why he was doing DS Freeman’s donkeywork, he saw Lawton standing outside with a man. His arm was resting on her shoulder, hand around her neck, possessive. Gardner stopped and watched. Was this the boyfriend? Lee, the infamous motivational speaker. From where Gardner stood he looked like a bit of a dick. Not what he was expecting at all, not from Lawton.

He watched as Lawton shrugged away from the man, her head down. Lee took hold of her chin, forcing her to look at him. They were clearly having a serious, personal conversation, although he was doing most of the talking. Gardner wondered if he should leave them to it
.
Probably. But when did that ever stop him.

He extended his hand as he walked towards them. ‘You must be Lee,’ he said and Lawton looked at him as though she’d been caught having a sneaky fag behind the bike sheds. Lee looked from Lawton to Gardner and reluctantly held out his hand.

‘Michael Gardner,’ he said and shook Lee’s hand. All of a sudden the other man sprung into life, a smile spreading across his tanned face.

‘So you’re DI Gardner,’ Lee said. ‘Dawn never shuts up about you.’

Gardner glanced at Lawton and saw a slight flush spread across her face. He let go of Lee’s hand and Lee smiled. It almost reached his eyes. ‘So what brings you to our neck of the woods? Been doing some motivational speaking?’

Lee did the almost-smile again, struggling even more this time. ‘No. I don’t do that any more. Obviously you don’t talk about me that much,’ he said to Lawton and put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her towards him. ‘I work in the town now. Phones Galore.’

‘Phones Galore?’ Gardner said. ‘Well. Everyone needs phones.’

The three of them stood there in silence for a moment and Gardner wished he hadn’t come over. He probably wasn’t alone.

‘Anyway, I should get back to it,’ Gardner said. ‘Nice to meet you, Lee.’ He didn’t bother with another handshake. He started to walk away and then turned back. ‘You coming, Lawton?’

Lawton looked up at him, surprised, but nodded. ‘Give me a minute?’ she said.

Gardner left them to it and went to his car, the sudden warmth making his cheeks burn. He turned and saw Lee talking again as Lawton listened with her head down. Lee bent down and said something, close to her face. He looked up and saw Gardner watching. He kissed Lawton on the cheek and walked away, looking back over his shoulder. Gardner waited for Lawton to come over as Lee disappeared down the street. She walked towards the car, head down, face red. She slid into the passenger seat.

‘Where’re we going?’ she asked and fastened her seatbelt, never looking at him once.

Gardner and Lawton turned into Ayresome Street and looked for the right house. The sleet was really coming down now and you could barely see out of the windscreen. Gardner didn’t even know why he was there, what business it was of his, but he’d promised. He hadn’t been much use to DS Freeman so far and he
had
said if she needed anything else . . . Famous last words.

He pulled up outside the house and looked for any signs of life. There was a Christmas tree in the window, lights flashing on and off. No other lights on in the house, though.

‘Wait here,’ he said to Lawton. ‘No point us both getting wet.’

He got out and ran towards the door, hoping someone would answer quickly. He wasn’t even sure what he’d say when they did answer. Freeman had told him this Jenny Taylor was an associate of Emma’s, could possibly know something about her murder. She hadn’t said much else; he hadn’t asked. Freeman just wanted to speak to her but hadn’t been able to find a number, and as he was in Middlesbrough . . .

Obviously Taylor wasn’t a suspect or Freeman would’ve made the effort to drive down herself. Instead she was going to visit Ben Swales again. Although Gardner only vaguely recalled Ben, Taylor didn’t ring
any
bells. Didn’t think she’d come up in his investigation. He hoped that hadn’t been another oversight on his part.

Gardner knocked again and squinted through the sleet into the living room window. There was no one in.

He turned to leave and then pulled out his notebook. He scrawled his name and number and a note for Jenny to call him. The ink ran as soon as it hit the paper, making his name illegible. He screwed the note up. He didn’t want Jenny calling him anyway. It wasn’t his case. He found Freeman’s number in his phone, scribbled it down and then stopped, wondering what he’d want Freeman to do if their roles were reversed. Who knew what Taylor had to do with all this? Freeman had mentioned she was a junkie, had been in trouble with the police more than once. Maybe a note would make her skittish.

‘Fuck it,’ Gardner muttered as he ran back to the car, the sleet biting down on his face.

Lawton looked at him but said nothing, as always. Always trusting, never questioning him.

He’d had no doubt at the time that Emma Thorley would show up sooner or later like she always had done. But she hadn’t. And there had obviously been a good reason for it.

What if he’d tried harder? He’d spent five years searching for Abby Henshaw’s daughter. Why hadn’t he done the same for Emma? What if he’d found her back then and saved her father years of heartache? He knew he’d failed her, knew it was too late to make it right. All he could do was make sure it never happened again.

He found the slightly soggy note with Freeman’s number on and ran back out to the door, sliding the note through the letterbox. Freeman wanted him to find Jenny, get her to contact her. That’s what he’d done. If she could help find Emma’s killer, he’d done his part.

But now he needed to stop thinking about Blyth. About the past. He’d had the dream again the night before. He hadn’t had it in years. But there she was. Heather Wallace, with her red hair and freckles, asking why he’d killed her dad. Gardner blinked away the image of her face. What had become of her? Was she another lost girl?

‘What time on Friday?’ he said to Lawton, the words falling from his mouth before his brain changed its mind.

A smile spread across Lawton’s face before she caught herself and regained some professional impassivity. ‘About eight, sir,’ she said.

‘All right, excellent,’ Gardner said and Lawton smiled again.

Gardner started the car and opened the window a fraction, needing some fresh air. He had a feeling he’d live to regret this.

Chapter 37

30 April 1999

Emma sat on the narrow single bed in the tiny, magnolia-walled room. This had been her home for a week but it felt like a prison cell. She’d barely spoken to anyone since she’d arrived, since Ben had dropped her off and promised that Jasmine would take good care of her. But that was fine. Not many people in there were big on conversation. There were a lot of secrets under that roof. And now hers was one of them.

She’d gone to Ben when it finally became too much to deal with by herself. She knew that if she didn’t do something soon, that if Lucas kept hanging around, her secret would get out. So she’d gone to Ben and he’d found somewhere for her to go. A friend of his ran a women’s shelter and would let her stay for a while, as long as there was room. She also helped Emma organise an abortion. Went with her to doctor’s appointments, listened while Emma talked about how badly she needed to go through with it even though she felt terrible. Jasmine had heard it all before.

But it was Ben who went with her that morning. Ben whose hand she held as she went into the hospital. And Ben who’d brought her back again, promising her it’d be okay.

He’d already done so much for her. He’d been to see her dad, convinced him that she was okay, that she’d be back soon. She didn’t know how she’d ever repay him. Just another thing to feel guilty about.

Emma rolled onto her side and brought her knees up to her chest. The doctor had said this would probably happen. There’d be cramps and bleeding. She guessed that was her punishment. It didn’t seem that severe, considering.

Outside her room she could hear a muted conversation: two voices, one muffled by tears. The woman was scared for her son, scared in case her husband found them. Emma closed her eyes. She didn’t need to talk to the other women there to understand them. They were all the same in the end. They were frightened of someone they’d loved. Maybe still loved.

She knew that she couldn’t stay there forever. That someone would come and take her place and she’d have to go home. But as she lay there on the lumpy mattress, in the room chilled by ghosts, she wished she could stay there forever.

Chapter 38

15 December 2010

Freeman knocked at the door for the third time before walking back to the car, phone already ringing in her hand. She yawned as it continued to ring on the other end. She was tired even though she’d slept like the dead for a change. She hung up and wondered if she should be concerned about Ben Swales. His car wasn’t there but she was trying to be optimistic.

She’d been searching for anything on Ben, anything that’d suggest he was somehow involved in Emma’s death, but had found nothing. The man was a saint. Though that was as suspicious as anything. He had no criminal record. He’d never been questioned – other than after Emma disappeared. Not even so much as a parking fine, a speeding ticket. Nothing.

Freeman tried Ben once more and gave up, wondering if she could get local police to keep an eye on him. She couldn’t hang around Alnwick all day.

She called Alnwick police station and asked to be put through to DS Janet Williams. They’d worked together a few years back and got on well. Maybe she’d be open to doing a favour. After being on hold for a few minutes, Williams finally answered.

‘Well, well, well, if it isn’t Strawberry Shortcake,’ Williams said, and cackled down the phone.

All of a sudden Freeman wished she hadn’t bothered. She’d forgotten how annoying Williams could be. The woman came up with nicknames for everyone she met, usually based on the person’s appearance. Unfortunately at the time they’d worked together, Freeman’d had a bad dye job, red gone wrong. Mix this with her height, or lack thereof, and Williams was onto a winner.

‘Hi, Janet,’ she said. ‘How’s things?’

After Williams had covered all aspects of her life since the last time they’d seen each other, Freeman got to the point. She told her colleague about her case and how Ben Swales fitted in.

‘So, you think you could organise some eyes on him?’ Freeman asked.

Williams sighed. ‘We’re a little stretched. I could maybe swing by in a while. Check if he’s still around. I can try and get one of our newbies to watch the place, but I doubt it.’

‘Whatever you can do. Thanks, Janet.’

Freeman hung up and hoped that she wasn’t too late. That Swales hadn’t disappeared. Maybe she should stop being so bothered about him and think about herself. She’d been sick again this morning. She knew she had to do something but it was easier to just ignore it and hope it went away.

Freeman pulled out and headed back, hoping Gardner had had more luck with Jenny Taylor. Everywhere she went, Jenny Taylor kept coming up. She knew Emma, Lucas
and
Ben. And her gut was telling her that maybe this girl was the key.

Freeman stuffed the last piece of Mars Bar into her mouth and brushed the stray bits of chocolate off the file in front of her. It was well known in the station that if a report had some kind of food stain on it then it had probably been in her hands at some point. But right now she didn’t care.

There’d been no answer at Jenny Taylor’s house in Middlesbrough but she’d got Lloyd to work his magic and found an address for Jenny’s parents. Maybe they had a number.

Jenny’s parents lived in Morpeth – less than half an hour away. Freeman pulled up to their house and wondered if she should’ve just called. But it was too late. She’d come now. And the longer she was out doing this, the less she’d be sitting still, thinking.