Lost Girls (13 page)

K
im turned
to the family liaison officer. ‘Helen, a word.'

Kim strode out of the room, through the hallway and out of the front door. She continued thirty feet down the drive. This was a private conversation.

Helen caught up with her. ‘Marm?'

Kim turned. ‘This is what happened the last time, isn't it? A fucking play-off? And you never thought to mention it?'

Kim's fists were clenched inside her pockets.

‘I didn't know it would be the same. I didn't know … I just …'

The woman looked distraught but Kim didn't care.

‘There's nothing in the case files about this. There's no transcript of the third message.'

Helen looked pained.

‘Listen, you'd better start being honest with me or so help me God, I'll …'

‘It's not in there,' she said, finally.

Kim's hands stopped clenching. ‘Why the hell not?'

‘There were only a couple of us that knew about the third text message. We were sworn to secrecy. It wouldn't have looked good had it got out that we knew only one child was coming back and we still didn't come close to catching them. There was only ever going to be one child returned so our investigation gained nothing.'

‘How has this never been made public?'

‘Honestly, Marm. You've got to have been involved in cases where certain information is not in the public interest?'

Kim fumed. ‘We're not talking public interest, we're talking integral to the bloody case.'

‘And the senior investigating officer is still my boss, Marm,' Helen shot back.

Kim ran her hand through her hair. ‘Jesus, this just keeps getting better. Is there anything else I should know?'

Helen shook her head.

Kim had two options. She could have Helen removed from the case or she could continue to try to make some use of her.

‘Marm, I'm really sorry. I should have told you. The publicity was bad enough but that's no excuse. I should have warned you of what was probably coming.'

‘Yes, you bloody well should have,' Kim raged.

Helen tucked a piece of hair behind her ears. Her fingers were trembling.

‘If I let you stay I have to know that you are withholding nothing else from me. Your only priority should be to help bring those girls home.'

‘Marm, I assure you that I will …'

‘Go back inside, Helen. And … make some tea.'

Helen nodded and rushed back towards the house.

Kim paced for a moment longer, unwilling to take her anger back inside. She would need to grow another limb to count on her fingers and toes just how many ways the previous investigation had been botched. But those failings were now affecting Charlie and Amy and she didn't like it one little bit.

She would inform Woody tomorrow of the missing paperwork. That was his battle to fight.

Kim's only concern was the safe return of those two little girls.

K
im stepped back
into the war room. The mood was sombre.

‘Okay, folks, make your calls. It's an all-nighter.'

‘Already done, Guv,' Bryant said. Dawson and Stacey nodded at her. Jesus, her team knew her well. The first full day of investigation was lengthening before her but Kim could not forget that this was the second night the girls would spend away from home. The intensity of the case meant it felt much later in the week than Monday night.

‘The priority is to glean anything we can from these files. They're not complete but I'd say it's now far more likely we're dealing with the same crew as last time, so anything we can get will be useful.'

Kim checked her watch. It was almost nine. ‘Alison, feel free to go and we'll update you in the morning.'

‘I have eyes, Inspector. I can read.'

Kim wasn't about to argue.

‘Okay, we take turns in getting a couple of hours' rest on the easy chair. Second priority is keeping the coffee topped up.'

‘Yes, Guv,' Bryant offered.

‘Right, I'm going to talk to the families,' Kim said, standing.

Karen's head was buried in the chest of her husband. Robert stroked her hair.

Elizabeth sat on one of the single chairs with Stephen on the arm. Elizabeth stared off into the distance. The rage from Stephen was palpable.

Helen skittered off into the kitchen as Kim entered the room.

Never had the couples looked so separate and Kim struggled to recall the picture of the two women holding hands.

She sat in the other single chair and faced them all.

‘Folks, this development is as much of a shock to you as it is to me but—'

‘Did this happen on the last one?' Stephen asked.

‘I can't discuss the details of the last case with—'

‘I'll take that as a yes, seeing as only one child came back.'

‘Mr Hanson, we need to talk—'

‘What we need is someone decent to head this investigation.'

Three pairs of eyes turned on him. He opened his arms. ‘What? I'm only saying what we're all thinking.'

Karen opened her mouth but Robert was faster. His voice was quiet but firm.

‘Stephen, don't ever presume to speak for me. Detective Inspector, I'm not thinking that at all.'

Karen moved her head in agreement.

‘Please continue, Inspector,' Elizabeth said.

‘Thank you. The newspaper clipping is useful but I still can't rule out that someone in your lives is involved in this. Please try and think if there is anyone else you haven't mentioned. Even if you think it's irrelevant, please, let me know.'

Kim headed out of the room but paused for a second and turned.

‘I have to ask that you make no attempt to respond to the text messages. I know that's going to be hard but we have no intention of there being a choice. Okay?'

The responses were not as emphatic as she would have liked.

She turned to Karen. ‘It's going to be a full house tonight but we'll be as quiet as we can.'

Kim headed back to the war room.

It was time to start fighting back.

T
he makeshift incident
room still held the stunned silence from the horror of that message. But they couldn't dwell on it. Kim had to get their focus back on what they were here to do.

‘Right, we can't allow this to paralyse us. The kidnappers may be playing a sick game but we are not. Nothing has changed, folks. We want both those little girls home.'

‘It's horrific, though, boss,' Stacey breathed.

Bryant looked pained. ‘Even making the offer would potentially seal the death of another child.'

Kim nodded. The thought was sickening, but no less true.

‘Look at the effect of that one text message. The unity between the families has been destroyed. Now it's each to their own. Divide and conquer. The prospect of them working together as a team has been removed. Put yourself in the same position. Are you really going to attach the same level of concern to someone else's child as you would to your own?'

‘I can't even comprehend …' Bryant's words trailed away as his mind found the discord between how he would wish to act and how he would act.

‘The parents probably will make contact, you know,' Alison said, quietly.

Kim nodded her agreement. She wondered which couple would break first.

‘Guv, we have to consider the possibility that the girls—'

‘Bryant, don't even think about it. The only possibility I'm prepared to consider is that Charlie and Amy are coming home. Alive.'

She would not lead this investigation any other way.

Kim took out her mobile phone and keyed in the three mobile numbers used so far. Now they would have her number and that was fine by her.

‘What you doing?' Bryant asked.

‘I'm sending our friend a little message.'

‘Do you think he'll check the disposable phones after he's used them?'

‘He'll check,' Alison offered. ‘The game's now started. He can't get any gratification face to face. So he'll want any type of adulation he can get. In the absence of press coverage, his validation is very limited.'

Stacey turned towards Alison. ‘Is there any chance that he'll somehow leak it to the press? If he wants that kind of admiration, is it only a matter of time?'

Alison thought for a moment before shaking her head. ‘I don't think so. Adherence to the plan will be his first priority. His need for respect will come later. Whatever the outcome, this will hit the news and it's going to be big. He's already shown himself to be controlled and patient. He can wait.'

Kim didn't look up as Alison talked. She labelled the numbers KN1, KN2 and KN3.

The room fell into silence. The only sound was the soft beep of her phone each time she pressed a key. Her finger hit send.

‘What have you asked him, Guv?' Bryant said as three pairs of eyes fell on her.

‘I've asked the bastard for proof of life.'

C
harlie nibbled away
at the hair grip she'd taken from Amy's fringe.

As she looked to her left she caught Amy's hand travelling down her forearm.

‘Stop scratching, Ames,' she whispered.

Since that man had visited them the night before they had spoken only in whispers. Charlie wasn't sure why but it just felt right.

‘I can't stop,' Amy breathed, but put her hand under her knee.

Charlie knew she couldn't help it. It was what Amy always did when she got nervous. Charlie had first seen her do it before a spelling test when they'd been six years old.

‘I still don't understand what you're doing,' Amy whispered beside her.

Finally, the plastic covering the wire hair grip dropped off in Charlie's mouth, leaving a thin, sharp piece of metal.

Charlie scooted towards the wall and moved her backpack out of the way. She rubbed the point of the metal against the brick. After a few movements a scratch mark began to appear.

She turned to her friend. ‘The last time he came he took away some of the rubbish. I was trying to keep count of how many sandwiches we've had. It might help us work out how long we've been down here.'

Amy scratched again. This was one long scratch.

‘Amy, I need you to remember what sandwiches we've had. Your memory is really good, so can you tell me?'

Amy's hand became busy as she started to count on her fingers.

‘There was a cheese one and a ham one and another cheese.'

Amy paused for a minute. Yes, those were the ones Charlie could recall, even though they had all been dry and tasteless.

‘Oh … and the first one was egg. Do you remember the smell?'

Charlie smiled as Amy's nose puckered up. They had eaten them because they had been starving. She had forgotten about that one.

‘Good one, Ames. So, that makes four meals they've given us, maybe two for each day,' she said, scratching the marks into the wall. ‘I think it might be Monday night because—'

Charlie stopped mid-sentence as she heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs. It hadn't been long since the last stale sandwich. He wasn't coming to feed them again.

‘Hello, my little pretties. Have you missed me?'

Charlie pulled Amy closer. Their limbs entwined as they tried to form a protective barrier around each other.

‘It's okay, Ames, just try not to listen,' she whispered.

She could hear her own voice trembling and the sickness was back in her tummy.

‘Today I forced a man to suck my dick. Do you girlies know how disgusting that is?'

Charlie didn't know what it was but it didn't sound very nice. Amy's body began to tremble beside her.

‘And then I punched his face in. Shall I tell you why? It's because I'm getting impatient. Who I really want to hurt is you.'

Amy's whimpering reached ears that were trying to close down.

Charlie could feel the blood rushing around her body and pounding through her veins.

While he was on the other side of the door, talking, they were okay. They were safe.

But then the key turned in the lock.

She heard him laugh as the door opened and he stood, like a giant in the doorway smiling down at them.

A cruel glint lit the expression in his eyes as his gaze passed over the two of them. His next words chilled her to the bone.

‘Little girlies, it's time to take off your clothes.'

K
im pushed aside
the third pile of paperwork. All pages born of a tree that had died for a good cause, and had revealed absolutely nothing useful to her.

She'd read strategy after framework followed by outlines and objectives. All priorities that occupied the very early part of an investigation.

What she hadn't found were the clothes that went on the dummy. The physical actions that had occurred. Severely lacking were lines of enquiry, detailed interview notes, activity logs or even a cohesive logic.

It was almost twelve and not one word had passed between her and the team in the last hour. Every file in the room had been opened and pored over. Except one. The Dewain Wright file.

She pushed her chair back from the table, causing four tired heads to look her way.

‘Okay, Bryant, Stace, get a couple of hours' rest. We'll take turns.'

Stacey nodded and folded into the easy chair in the corner. Bryant pulled her vacated chair towards him and slipped it beneath his feet. He folded his arms and let his head fall to the side. Alison had been persuaded to return to her hotel room only an hour earlier.

Dawson glanced at them enviously and then nodded towards the door. ‘Guv, I just need to pop—'

‘Kev, we're not at school. You don't need permission.'

She pushed herself to her feet and stretched. Something between her shoulder blades snapped and released.

Had the roads been less icy she would have jumped onto the Ninja and gone for a burn to clear her head.

These night-time hours were her enemy on a case like this. Normally she dealt with dead bodies whose exposure to risk and harm was gone. They were no longer in danger. Charlie and Amy were still alive, she knew it. And it was up to her to make sure they stayed that way.

After the text message received earlier, Kim could only wonder at the hushed conversations taking place in the bedrooms upstairs.

Kim was expecting to see Dawson as the door began to open slowly, but instead Helen's head popped into the opening.

‘Just to let you know I'm off now.'

Shit, Kim had forgotten she was still there.

‘Helen, you really—'

Her words were interrupted by a gentle but definite knock to the front door.

Kim frowned at Helen, who stepped back into the hallway. Kim rose and followed. Lucas stood at the door looking to her for confirmation.

Kim nodded and approached. Helen was one step behind.

As the door opened Kim adjusted her gaze down, her eyes coming to rest on a portly woman encased in a full-length jacket that diminished her height further. A thick woollen scarf had lapped itself around her neck. A round, lined face protruded from the layers of warmth beneath a red knitted hat.

This woman had to have taken a wrong turn.

‘Are you a police officer?' the woman asked, looking wary.

Or maybe not.

Kim offered the slightest of nods.

The woman offered her hand as though it wasn't past midnight.

Kim ignored it and folded her arms.

The hand was retracted. ‘My name is Eloise Austen. I have information.'

‘About what?' Kim snapped.

The case was not public knowledge. Outside of the house Kim could count the number of people who knew on one hand. With a finger to spare.

‘Th … the … girls … the abduc—'

‘Listen,' Kim said, stepping forward. ‘I don't know how you got your information or who the hell you are—'

‘I know who she is,' Helen said from behind her.

Kim looked to the liaison officer.

Helen's expression held distaste, as though she'd eaten something unpalatable but good manners prevented her from spitting it out.

‘She has a monthly show at the Civic Hall. She's a psychic.'

‘You have to be bloody kidding me?'

Helen shook her head. ‘Came around last time and managed to get in the house. Traumatised the parents, saying all sorts of things that—'

‘No, you have to listen,' the woman said, looking from one to the other. ‘I know things. The girls … the girls … they're alive but they're underground. They're cold … scared …'

‘Oh, Jesus,' Kim said, shaking her head. ‘Tell me something I don't know.' Her stomach felt their fear every single minute.

‘There are secrets and lies and deceit and the number 278. Remember the number 278. And he's not done yet,' she said, urgently.

Kim frowned. ‘Not done?'

‘With the last one. He has plans …there is bitterness … anger…'

‘Come on, Eloise,' Helen said, gently turning the woman around. ‘Time for you to go home now.'

Eloise turned her head as Helen edged her forward. She tried to lock on to Kim's gaze.

‘Please … you have to listen …'

‘No, I really don't,' Kim said, turning away.

Cranks and crackpots she did not need.

‘He knows, Kim. He knows you couldn't save him …'

Kim's head snapped around. She walked back.

‘What did you say? Who knows that?'

Eloise blinked rapidly. ‘He knows you tried and he loved you so—'

‘Helen, get her out of my sight,' Kim screamed.

‘Look closer, Inspector, someone—'

‘Come on, Eloise, it really is past your bedtime,' Helen soothed, taking the woman by the arm.

Kim turned away but could still hear the voice behind her, calling something about a blue gate, but she didn't want to hear another word from that woman's mouth.

She strode back into the house and closed the door behind her.

‘Who the hell was that?' Stephen Hanson growled from the middle of the staircase.

Great, someone else she didn't need.

‘No one you need to worry about,' Kim said, stepping away from the door.

‘She said she had information,' Stephen said, trying to look around her but the door was closed and Lucas had stepped to her side. Mr Hanson was not going anywhere.

‘Please go back to bed, Mr Hanson.'

‘And do what?' he spat. ‘You don't really think anyone is sleeping up there, do you?'

Stephen's voice had risen and Kim thought that anyone who
had
managed to sleep probably wasn't any more.

‘Mr Hanson,' she said, reducing her voice to a whisper, hoping he would follow suit. ‘Please go back upstairs and let me handle this investigation.'

His eyes were cold and unyielding as he looked to Helen re-entering the house. ‘Just as long as you
are
handling it, Inspector.'

She took a deep breath and headed for the kitchen wondering how the hell that woman had found out. She'd let Woody know in the morning that his end of the bucket had a leak.

‘Sorry for the oversight, Helen. I thought you'd gone home,' Kim said, filling the kettle. Instant would have to do for now.

Helen sat at the breakfast bar and rubbed her hands.

‘Just tidying around after they finally went to bed. I'll take a nap on the sofa in a while.'

Kim took a second mug from the cupboard.

‘Milk and sugar?'

‘Both,' Helen said.

‘How were they after the message?' Kim asked.

It took a special kind of person to be around that level of fear and despair without becoming absorbed by it. Family liaison officers were required to offer support, strength and encouragement without the emotional involvement and still maintain the presence of mind to capture anything that might benefit the investigation.

‘The couples barely spoke after the text message. There was the odd exchange about cups of tea but it was like watching two tag teams retreat to their corners.'

‘And the psychic?' Kim asked.

‘I know she's in the files somewhere. I wrote that report myself. I mean, it wasn't a lengthy document but perhaps I should have mentioned—'

Kim held up her hand. She realised she couldn't hold every failing of the last investigation against Helen. She'd had a specific role to play which had not included external investigation or the integrity of the case notes.

‘I probably wouldn't have mentioned a visit from a psychic either,' Kim said, giving the woman a break. There were few police officers who would assign value to the ramblings of a crank.

‘Did anyone listen to her last time?'

‘Not really. She offered nothing specific but managed to upset the parents a great deal. She kept grabbing the hand of Mrs Cotton and saying she was sorry.'

Kim frowned. ‘The mother of the child that didn't come back?'

Helen nodded and shuddered. ‘It was awful.'

‘You're not a believer of the supernatural?'

‘I'm not a fan of anyone who profits from the needs of the vulnerable. Her stage shows focus on dead relatives.'

‘So, she's a medium?'

‘A spiritualist, apparently.' Helen smiled to herself. ‘But to answer your question about the supernatural. No, I'm not a believer. I was raised by my grandmother who was one of the strikers back in 1910.'

‘Really?' Kim asked.

It was well known that at that time the Cradley Heath female chain makers were some of the poorest in the country, earning less than the price of a loaf of bread per hour.

In August 1910 a group of women did the unthinkable and staged a strike. The move drew international attention to the town.

The ten-week protest resulted in the first recorded minimum wage.

‘You didn't live through those times and come out the other side with a belief in anything you couldn't see for yourself. And my grandmother was no exception. Spare the rod and save the child.' Helen's mouth was no longer smiling. ‘Were you raised to believe?' she asked.

Kim shook her head. She had barely been raised at all.

‘Parents?' Helen asked.

‘Dead,' Kim lied. For all she knew, her father, whoever the hell he was, could have been, but her other parent, unfortunately, was not. Her mother still resided in Grantley Care, a secure psychiatric unit for the criminally insane.

Kim took a sip of coffee, eager to bring the conversation back to the present and away from her.

‘Kids?' she asked Helen.

Helen shook her head regretfully.

‘I always meant to, I suppose. But I just never got around to it. I loved my job and was damn good at it. I chose promotion at every opportunity. I made DCI, you know?'

Kim hid her surprise.

‘But with the great restructure four years ago I was offered a choice.' She opened her hands expressively. ‘I still had a mortgage, bills and no one to share them with so it wasn't really much of a choice at all. I took the training required and added the counselling and psychology courses myself. If I was going to help people then I had to understand how they would feel, and more importantly how they would act.' She smiled apologetically. ‘I'm sorry, I'm taking too much of your—'

‘Please, carry on,' Kim said. There was a loneliness to the woman who spent her working life soaking up the misery of others.

‘You just don't notice the years slip away. It's easier for the men. Having a family doesn't impede their career progression at all. For us women it does, however much the force talks of equality. Months of maternity leave add up. Not that there was ever anyone I had to make that choice for.' She shrugged. ‘Never anyone that special. And now …'

‘Do you regret it?' Kim asked.

Helen thought for a moment and shook her head. ‘No, they were my choices and I stand by them.' She smiled. ‘This will most likely be my last major case. I've been retired under the A19 regulation.'

Kim knew of the contentious regulation which allowed the police to force retirement on officers below chief officer rank after thirty years of service. It was a regulation brought out in times of austerity and had been used ‘in the general interests of efficiency' since 2010.

After so many years of service, many officers were ready to retire at fifty-five. Others were not.

‘Did you appeal it?' Kim asked.

Helen shrugged. ‘Unsuccessfully.' She drained her mug. ‘And on that note I'm going to put my head down for a bit.'

Kim thanked her again for her help before filling a jug for the percolator. Sleep did not appear to be in her immediate future.