Lost Girls (3 page)

W
oody was alone
when Kim knocked and entered twenty minutes later.

‘Sir, I want it,' she said.

‘Want what, Stone?' he asked, sitting back in his chair.

‘The case. I want to be the OIC.'

He rubbed his chin. ‘Did you not hear the superintendent when he said—'

‘Yes, I heard loud and clear but he's wrong. I will bring those children home, so if you just tell me whose arse I need to kiss to—'

‘That won't be necessary,' he said, reaching for the stress ball.

Damn it, she'd already lost and she hadn't even started her sales pitch. But she had clutched victory from the jaws of defeat in the past.

‘Sir, I am tenacious, determined, driven …'

He sat back and tilted his head.

‘I am persistent, stubborn …'

‘Oh yes, you're that, Stone,' he offered.

‘I will not eat, sleep or drink until …'

‘Okay, Stone. It's yours.'

‘No one will work harder than … umm, what?'

He sat forward and let go of the stress ball. ‘The superintendent and I had quite a conversation after you left. I used many of those words. Amongst others. I assured him that if anyone can bring these girls home, you can.'

‘Sir, I …'

‘But both of our necks are on the line for this one, Stone. The superintendent will not be held accountable for any failure. Especially after the last time. There is no leeway on this case. One wrong step and we are both out. Do you understand me?'

Kim appreciated the level of faith that Woody had placed in her ability and she would not let him down. She tried to picture the conversation that had taken place between her boss and the superintendent. The man before her must have presented passionately to win over Baldwin.

‘What do you need?' he asked, reaching for his pen.

She took a deep breath. ‘The complete files from the last case. That'll tell me everything I need to know about how the investigation was conducted.'

‘Already in progress. Next?'

‘I want the FLO assigned last time.'

This request he wrote down, and would be tricky but to her it was imperative. The family liaison officer would have been with the families the whole time and would be able to offer an insight into events and advise her on any similarities.

‘I'll get on it. Next.'

‘I intend to set up base at the Timmins' house. I'll run the investigation from there.'

‘Stone, that's not really—'

‘I have to, Sir. I need to be available. The first message came by text. We don't know if that's how they will continue to communicate and I need to be there at all times, ready to action any developments.'

He thought for a moment. ‘I'll need to get that cleared by Superintendent Baldwin but that's my concern, not yours. I expect to be kept properly informed and that's
my
level of appropriate communication, not yours.'

‘Of course,' she agreed and stood, looking towards the door. ‘I need to call my team.'

‘They're upstairs, waiting for you.'

Kim frowned. ‘Sir, I only just asked for this case?'

‘I called them in as soon as you left. They don't have any idea why so I'll leave it to you to fill them in.'

She tipped her head. ‘How could you have been so sure?'

‘Because you were told you couldn't have it – and you don't like that one little bit.'

Kim opened her mouth and closed it again. For once she could not disagree.

K
im entered
the squad room and closed the door behind her. Immediately she had the full attention of her team. The door very rarely met the frame.

‘Afternoon, Guv,' they all said together.

She briefly appraised her team. Yep, Woody was right when he said he'd called them all in.

DS Bryant still wore the rugby shirt from afternoon practice together with a dirt smudge beneath his left eye. Although his natural build suited the game of rugby he was on now the wrong side of forty-five to walk away from the pitch uninjured. As both Kim and his wife had pointed out numerous times.

DS Dawson looked as perfect as ever. Of the opinion that one was judged by one's attire, Dawson ensured his five-eleven height was suitably clothed at all times. Even on a day off, his impeccable clothing showed off the results of gym membership. If Kim had to guess, she'd say he'd played squash earlier, showered and then changed before preparing to take a liquid lunch with his mates. Never mind.

Unlike the others, DC Stacey Wood was dressed for work in navy blue trousers and a simple white shirt, signalling she'd probably been at home engrossed in her computer, fighting warlocks and goblins on the game
World of Warcraft
.

Kim perched on the edge of the spare desk that butted up to Bryant's.

Dawson glanced at the closed door. ‘Shit, Guv, what did we do?'

‘In your case I'm sure I can come up with something but on this rare occasion it's not us.'

‘Hallelujah,' Bryant said.

‘Bostin,' Stacey added.

‘Okay, firstly, what's the alcohol situation?'

Yes, it was Sunday. But now they were at work.

‘Dry as a bone,' Stacey offered.

‘None,' Bryant said.

‘Almost,' Dawson groaned.

And Kim herself hadn't touched a drop since she was sixteen, so they were good to go.

‘Right, I know Woody kept you all in the dark but there's a reason.' She took a deep breath. ‘A couple of hours ago two nine-year-old girls were snatched from Old Hill Leisure Centre. Confirmed. The girls are best friends, as are the parents.'

She paused to give everyone a chance to digest the information.

Bryant glanced at the closed door. ‘Press blackout
and
force blackout, Guv?'

Kim nodded her head. ‘Only four people on site know and they've been sworn to secrecy. Nothing is to be transmitted over the radio. We can't risk this getting out.'

‘Confirmed how?' Dawson asked.

‘Both mothers have received text messages.'

‘Bloody Nora,' Stacey whispered.

‘No search, then?' Bryant asked.

As a father to a teenage girl his natural instinct was to get out there and look.

‘No. We're dealing with professionals. So far we know that the girls were due for collection at 12.30. The text messages were received at 12.16 and the car of the collecting parent had been tampered with.'

‘Guv, this is sounding awfully familiar.'

‘I agree. We all know that whoever was behind the abduction last year was never caught. It could be the same people or a copycat crime.'

‘What do we hope?' Stacey asked.

Kim wasn't sure. If it
was
the same people they would have learned from the last time. Their skills would be refined. They would have back-up plans, exit strategies. But on the plus side Kim would be able to see how they had performed; study their methodology from the case notes of the previous kidnapping.

‘Guv, what went wrong the last time?' Bryant asked.

‘I don't know but I'm sure we're gonna find out.' Kim took a deep breath. ‘Listen guys, this is going to get heavy. We'll be working out of the Timmins' house amongst distraught parents for as long as it takes to get these girls home.'

‘Isn't that “if” we get the girls back, Guv?' Dawson asked.

Kim turned her gaze on him. ‘No, Kev, I mean when.'

He nodded and looked away.

She would not contemplate defeat before they'd even started. The last team had achieved fifty per cent success – and even that had been by default. The kidnappers had let the girl go. Kim would not have any member of her team entering that household feeling they had already lost.

‘All the family members will want something from you. They'll think you know something they don't. They'll want to know everything.

‘We have to keep our distance. It's not our job to be their friends or extended family. We're not counsellors or priests. We are there to find their daughters.' She looked directly at Dawson. ‘Both of them.'

Dawson nodded his understanding.

‘Okay, Stace, I want you to make a list of remote and mobile equipment. Include everything you think we might need and get the list to Woody. He'll make sure we get it.'

Stacey nodded and started tapping on her keyboard.

‘Kev, I want you over at Lloyd House making a nuisance of yourself until we get those case files. Woody has requested them but we need them as soon as possible.'

‘Got it, boss.'

‘Bryant, for God's sake go home, shower and change. Pick up a lock and a drill, then come here to help Stacey with the equipment.'

Bryant stood. Stacey and Dawson burst out laughing. Kim followed their gaze with horror.

‘Bryant, you have got to be joking.'

He stood away from the desk displaying black shorts and legs that belonged in a zoo.

‘Woody said to come into the office right away, Guv.'

Kim hid her smile and looked away. ‘Please, Bryant, go now.'

He reached the door before she spoke again.

‘Oh, and I shouldn't need to remind you that you tell no one about this case. You all know what I mean.'

They each acknowledged her warning. Sometimes even their own family members had to be kept in the dark about work.

Kim stepped into The Bowl, a wood and glass structure in the right-hand corner of the room that was supposed to be her private office. It was barely the size of a decent lift and was used only for the occasional bollocking. For the most part Kim spent her time perched at the spare desk, amongst her team.

She turned and glanced as her colleagues galvanised into action. There was no room for uncertainty in her team members.

Any doubts would be all hers.

K
im arrived back
at the Timmins' house as darkness was threatening to fall; a development that would not help the state of mind of the parents. The early March days were struggling to leave the February temperatures behind. Every day was offering a long goodnight from mid-afternoon.

Kim knocked and entered. The constable was seated behind the door.

‘Anything to note?'

He stood as though addressing a sergeant major. ‘Husbands have come back. There's been shouting and a lot more crying.'

Kim nodded and headed towards the kitchen.

Karen appeared before her in the hallway. Her hands were clasped tightly to her breast.

‘Kim, you're …'

‘The Officer in Charge of this case,' she finished, with a half-smile.

Karen nodded gratefully and led her into the kitchen.

‘It's about fucking time, Inspector. Have you found my daughter?'

‘Stephen,' Karen protested.

‘It's okay,' Kim said, holding up her hands. There would be many emotions for the families to work through and anger would be high on the list.

She quickly shook her head.

Two totally separate time zones were operating within one room. The last few hours had sprinted by for her but had been a lifetime to the parents.

She expected frustration and rage. There would be accusation and mistrust and Kim was happy to accept it all. To a point.

She faced the man who had spoken. His hair was as black as her own and showed no signs of grey. He carried around twenty pounds of excess weight and his hands were nicely manicured.

Karen sent a withering glance as she introduced him. ‘Kim, this is Stephen Hanson, Elizabeth's husband, and this is Robert, my husband.'

Kim hid her surprise. Robert Timmins was an inch over six foot. She knew Karen to be thirty-four, the same age as herself, but Robert looked considerably older.

Not an unattractive man, he appeared to take care of himself. The grey at his temples suited his face, which was open and honest. His right hand rested on Karen's shoulder protectively.

This was not the kind of man Kim had envisioned Karen making a life with. As a teen she had gone after bad boys. Their criteria had included tattoos, piercings and possession of an ASBO.

There had been one in particular for Karen. Another care kid whose orbit she'd been unable to escape. The two of them had separated and collided numerous times during their teen years. And each time he thumped her she vowed never to go back. After the fourth or fifth time, no one was listening.

‘Pleased to meet you both. Now to update you. I've met with my team who will all be arriving over the next few—'

‘Where the hell is the search? Where are the teams, the helicopters?' Stephen Hanson cried, moving towards her.

Kim didn't move an inch and he stopped on the safe side of her personal space.

He looked her up and down. ‘For fuck's sake, this is what we get.'

Although Elizabeth had the grace to lower her eyes, Kim sensed the hope within them all that his shouting would somehow precipitate the return of the girls.

‘Mr Hanson, there is a press blackout on this story. Only a few people know that your daughter has been abducted.'

His eyes blazed in the face of her calm, measured tone.

‘So, nothing is being done?'

‘Mr Hanson, I urge you to calm down. Having the press all over this is not going to get your child back.'

The other three watched the exchange between the two of them. Every moment that passed explained the dynamics of this group better.

Stephen Hanson was casting himself as the hero of the hour. Kim understood that his caveman instinct was to protect and take charge.

‘How the hell can a search not be beneficial? If the public know, they'll come forward with information.'

‘Such as?'

‘A man bundling two young girls into a vehicle,' he said, as though speaking to a child.

‘You don't think that would have been reported anyway?' Kim replied, raising one eyebrow.

He hesitated. ‘That's not the point. People don't think about what they might have seen until you make it public.'

‘The best we could get from a witness appeal is a sighting of them close to the snatch point. That information is useless to us now because we already know for sure that they've been abducted. Unless they can offer a registration number, offender description and known direction of travel, that information is not worth the consequences.'

Stephen Hanson shook his head. ‘I'm sorry, but I couldn't disagree with you more. I intend to get my daughter back if I have to call every news outlet in the country.'

He took out his mobile phone.

‘I can't stop you from doing whatever you feel is necessary, but once you make that call you will probably seal the fate of your daughter,' Kim said, in a measured tone.

He hesitated for a moment as the two women gasped.

Robert Timmins took a step forward. ‘Stephen, put down the phone.' His voice was calm, quiet and authoritative. It bit through the tension that had filled the room.

Stephen turned to his friend. ‘Come on, Rob, you can't agree—'

‘I think we should listen to what the inspector has to say. Once you make that call there's no going back, but it may be something to consider later.'

‘By then they might be fucking dead,' he exploded. Stephen clearly didn't like being told what to do by anyone. But he hadn't yet pressed a button.

‘They might be dead now,' Robert said calmly.

Elizabeth and Karen cried out. Robert squeezed his wife's shoulders reassuringly. ‘I don't think they are but I can't imagine any scenario whereby we gain benefit by having Sky News parked up on the lawn.'

Kim could feel the controlled rage emanating from Stephen.

She stepped in. ‘Listen to me. Your daughters are alive. This is not some random opportunist snatch. This has been planned and there will be contingencies.

‘Do you remember last year when two little girls were taken from Dudley?' The two ladies nodded. ‘So far this is very similar to what happened then. We don't know the full details but only one girl came back. The body of the second girl was never found.

‘A press blackout was issued but the news broke on the third day. The publicity may have spooked them into doing something rash. That's not what we want this time. The kidnappers have already made contact. You know they've been taken for a reason and not by some random paedophile.'

Kim ignored the horror on their faces. They had to know the truth and unfortunately hers didn't come with tea and sympathy.

‘They will be in touch. They want something from one of you or all of you. The most logical assumption is that we're talking money but we can't rule out other things.'

Finally, she had the attention of them all. ‘Do any of you have enemies that you can think of? Disgruntled employees, clients, family members? Everyone should be considered.'

‘Do you know how many people I piss off each week?' Stephen Hanson asked.

Probably not as many as I do, Kim thought.

‘I'm Crown Prosecutor for Organised Crime.'

Had this been another situation, she would have said that he didn't piss off as many as he should.

Kim knew that the CPS division for which he worked was a separate arm of the service to the lawyers that presented the cases she worked on, which was why they had never met.

Regardless, the relationship between most police officers and CPS was strained at best. There was nothing worse than working a case for weeks, months, even years, to have prosecution discontinued on evidential grounds.

‘How many of your prosecutions would have the resources to put something like this together?' she asked. ‘This isn't a brick through a window, Mr Hanson.'

‘I'll make a list,' he said.

His change in attitude came with the promise of proactive momentum. Kim made a mental note to keep Stephen Hanson busy.

‘How about you, Mrs Hanson?'

She shrugged helplessly. ‘I'm only a paralegal but I'll give it some thought.'

‘Mr Timmins?'

His face was furrowed in deep thought. ‘I own a haulage company. I had to let a few people go around seven months ago but I don't think …'

‘I'll need their names. They'll all need to be ruled out.'

Silence fell.

‘Karen?'

She shook her head. ‘Nothing at all. I'm a housewife.' She shrugged as though that was enough.

‘Anything in your past?' Kim asked pointedly.

‘Absolutely not,' she said, just a little too quickly. Realising the speed and decisiveness of her response, she added, ‘But I'll certainly think about it.'

‘And the last thing for now is to get your list of phone calls ready for tomorrow. Your stories for the girls will need to match so that no one becomes suspicious. Understood?'

They all nodded and Kim breathed a sigh of relief. They were all co-operative. For now. It wouldn't last. For the moment they had things to do, things to think about that might aid the return of their children, but as their emotions ran the gamut she and her team would be on the receiving end.

She stepped out of the lounge to take a breather. At that moment the doorbell sounded throughout the house.

The constable opened the door as Kim walked towards it.

She was greeted by a middle-aged woman with ash-blonde hair. Her build was slightly overweight but carried with authority. She wore light jeans and a thick Arran knit jumper beneath a heavy winter coat.

The woman smiled past the constable, directly at Kim.

‘Helen Barton. You requested my presence here.'

Kim looked at her blankly.

The woman offered her hand. ‘Family Liaison Officer.'

‘Oh, thank God,' Kim said, taking her hand.

Finally, tea and sympathy had arrived.