Lost Girls (9 page)

K
im was already sitting
up straight at the dining table when the first member of her team arrived. This morning briefing would be a speedy one and she wasn't in the best of moods. She didn't like late-night visitors and she especially detested liars. Tracy was both of those things.

‘Morning, Guv,' Bryant said, removing his overcoat. The casual dress code had been discarded. It was Monday, their first full day of investigation, and he was a detective. That meant charcoal suit, white shirt and tie. The first two were not negotiable but on occasion the third offered a smidge of flexibility. For Bryant, plain clothes directive was not dress-down Friday. Although only forty-seven, there was a lot of old school inside him.

‘Coffee's done,' she offered.

He took a mug and poured a cup. ‘Helen's an early bird, eh?'

Kim nodded. The FLO had knocked on the front door at five forty-five sharp.

‘Is that the same kid on the door since yesterday?'

‘Yeah,' she said. ‘There's a second officer coming to take the day shift and then Lucas will be back tonight.'

‘You talked to Woody already?'

‘Sent him a text.'

Bryant held his coffee with both hands and looked at the photo on the wall. ‘Pretty little girls,' he observed. ‘And she is rocking that hair.'

Kim smiled as Dawson and Stacey walked in together.

She noted immediately that Dawson had taken full advantage of their distance from the office and was wearing indigo G-Star jeans with a university sweatshirt.

‘In a rush, Kev?' she asked, staring pointedly at his lower half. Of her team, he was always the one to push her just that little bit.

‘No, Guv, I just …'

She stared at him, hard.

He held her gaze for five seconds before looking away.

‘I don't expect to have to tell you again. Now, get the board.'

Stacey sat at the head of the table and switched on her equipment.

‘Okay, across the top of the board write “Charlie and Amy”. On the left I want the date and time of the snatch. Next column I want the two text messages word for word. On the second board I want lines of enquiry.'

Kim slowed. Dawson was doing his best to keep up with her but was still writing the content of the second text message.

‘First line of enquiry is CCTV. Against that, note Inga. Second is phone numbers that sent the texts. Third is case files from last time and fourth is the list of possible enemies from family members. As a prosecutor Stephen's will be long and possibly most relevant. Next we look at any names from Elizabeth and then the list from Robert.'

Kim waited for Dawson to catch up.

‘Last heading is just the initials “FM”. We need to tread carefully on this one. Investigating family members is going to cause a divide between us and them so I'd prefer they didn't know.' She turned to Stacey. ‘I want you to dig around their friends, acquaintances, extended family and finances.'

‘But if they're not to know, how—'

Kim cut Dawson off. ‘That's where Helen comes in. She'll get some names and details without arousing suspicion.'

‘But, Guv?'

‘Yes, Kev?' she said, giving him her full attention.

‘What if this is the same MO as the last time? What if it's the same people as before? Doesn't that make all this a waste of time?'

‘You know, Kev, I wish I'd thought of that. I know, scrub the board clean and when I next speak to the kidnappers I'll ask if it was them. Sit back, everybody, we're just gonna wait for them to call.'

Kim knew she was being a little harsh on him but some days Dawson's manner just got under her skin.

‘Kev, even if it is the same kidnappers, these two families were chosen for a reason so there has to be a link.'

He nodded his understanding.

‘So, I want you out there tracking Inga. Speak to neighbours, friends, anybody that might offer a clue to her whereabouts. We know she was involved and that's how they got the details of the routine. We also know she got scared and decided to bail. She is the priority.'

‘Got it,' Dawson said.

‘Okay. Stace, what can we get from the mobile phone numbers?'

Stacey pulled a face. ‘Not a bloody lot.'

Exactly what Kim had been afraid of. She waited for Stacey to explain.

‘We can't tell from the text messages which network each phone is connected to. I reckon he'll have a hoard of pay as you go phones with free credit that ain't registered. And if he's as clever as we hope he ain't they'll all be on different networks anyway, making it almost impossible for us to approach the providers.'

‘Can't we just track the mobile phone numbers?' Dawson asked.

For a detective he watched way too much television.

Stacey shook her head. ‘Mobile positioning is a technology used by telecom companies to approximate the location of a mobile phone.'

She placed her own coffee mug and Bryant's about ten inches apart and placed her pencil between them.

‘It's based on measuring power levels and antenna patterns, 'cos a powered mobile phone always communicates wirelessly with one of the closest base stations. Advanced systems determine the sector where the mobile phone resides and roughly estimates the distance to the base station, sometimes down to fifty metres in urban areas.'

‘Well, surely that's a starting point?' Dawson asked.

Stacey moved the mugs to the edges of the dining table and left the pencil where it was. ‘In rural areas there might be miles between base stations, so a hit on a tower can be pretty useless in terms of location.'

‘But we have the telephone numbers,' Dawson said.

Stacey rolled her eyes and turned to Kim. ‘Guv?'

‘Because the phones will be switched off, Kev. No tracking technology will work if the phone isn't at least powered.'

‘Do we know for sure …?'

‘Checked them both last night,' Kim said. ‘They're off, maybe even broken up and thrown away by now.'

Bryant took his mobile phone tower and drank from it.

Dawson was unconvinced. There were days when his tenacity proved invaluable, but sometimes it was wrongly directed.

‘But I read an article about accessing a mobile phone's internal microphone to eavesdrop on the conversation.'

‘Yeah, good luck with getting anyone to sign a warrant on that,' Stacey said. ‘But it probably wouldn't do any good. I'm betting the batteries ain't even in the phones.'

‘But can't we do anything?'

Stacey sighed. ‘Oh Kev, we can get permission to position phones in emergency situations but it's pretty clear he's gonna use a different phone for every communication and the phone would still need to be switched on. All I can do is fire off emails to the four main networks with the numbers and see if they'll carry out a search – but we're talking days, if not weeks, and an invoice that will run into thousands from each of 'em.'

Stacey looked to Kim for confirmation.

Kim didn't hesitate. ‘Do it anyway, you never know. We need every chance we can get on this one.'

The room fell silent, enabling Kim to hear activity from the kitchen next door.

She pushed back her chair.

‘Okay, any downtime is to be spent reading through the old case files. We may get lucky with something that was overlooked.'

She hadn't yet assigned herself and Bryant a task.

Kim had a feeling they were going to be taking a field trip.

I
nga stumbled
over a raised slab as she accessed the public walkway.

She had managed to exit the play area without being detected. The night in the wooden castle had been cold and uncomfortable but for a few hours she had felt safe. The conditions had prevented her from falling into a full, dense sleep but her body had stolen the occasional catnap, interrupted only by the intermittent glare of the security vehicle headlights during its passing patrol.

It was during the ambulance ride that she had realised how ruthlessly she had been used. Listening to the voices of strangers showing real concern about her wellbeing as she lay still, deceiving them. Tears had pricked at her closed lids and she had never felt so lonely in her life. Except maybe once.

She marvelled again at the skill with which she'd been seduced into doing something totally against her own beliefs. The manipulation of her own insecurities and fantasies had been easy. She had been no challenge.

Every one of Inga's weaknesses had been used against her. She had been given what she craved but she had given them so much more. She had given them Amy.

The movement of walking was injecting the sensation back into her toes. They tingled painfully as the warmth spread throughout her feet.

Her mind was clearer now that she'd rested for a few hours.

Her first priority was to change her clothes. She was still wearing the same outfit from the incident, making her instantly identifiable to anyone who might be looking for her.

Four miles stood between her and the small flat. She could take the back streets and alleyways and just go and get a change of clothes.

As the idea formed into a plan her pace quickened. If she could just get into her flat for long enough to change and grab her passport she could get to the airport, withdraw some money and get on a flight.

Yes, by using her cashpoint card she would put herself on the radar but by that time she'd be safely in the hub of a busy airport. Anonymous. And the very second she touched down in Germany she would make a call to the police and tell them what she knew.

She looked into her purse as she neared Cradley Heath bus station. Feeling more hopeful about the plan, she decided to spend what was left on a bus ride.

She ran in front of a bus just pulling out. The driver screeched the vehicle to a halt, offering her a filthy look.

She jumped on, grateful to be amongst the misery of the working crowd starting a new week. Oh, she ached to have their problems.

Twelve minutes later she jumped off the bus and headed into Dover Street, the main road that ran parallel to her own. If she turned the corner from the top end of the street she'd be able to assess quickly if anyone was hanging around.

She knew who she was looking for and he wasn't easy to miss.

She stood at the corner, her eyes searching every space. She saw nothing. She took a few steps forward, assessing every building as she went.

She jumped at the sound of a wheelie bin being pulled back into the garden after the weekly refuse collection, but made it to the Victorian house safely.

The keys jangled against each other as she tried to get the front door open. Inga cursed her own clumsiness as twice they fell from her hands. She finally closed the door behind her and leaned against it.

She felt the warm familiarity of coming home. Suddenly, she pined for the mundane drudge of normality.

Everyday life was not so far behind her that she couldn't remember coming home each night from work and moaning to herself about her employers or the crowded bus or the cost of groceries.

She put the key into the lock of her front door but it eased open. Her heart beat wildly as the door slowly displayed the carnage within.

Every piece of furniture she owned had been smashed to pieces. Her clothes were strewn and from the doorway she could see they had been ripped and cut. The clinical stench of bleach permeated the air.

She stared at the destruction before her and imagined Symes smiling as he destroyed her home.

The total devastation was meant as a warning and she'd received it loud and clear.

Inga turned on her heel and fled.

K
aren was alone
in the kitchen when Kim entered.

She turned from her cleaning and offered the ghost of a smile. Kim noted that the jewellery worn yesterday had been removed and not replaced. No make-up covered her skin.

‘Morning, Kim, hope last night wasn't—'

‘Can we talk outside?' Kim asked.

Karen paused, mid-wipe.

‘Is everything okay, do you have news?'

Kim shook her head and moved towards the French doors.

Karen wiped her hands and reached for a black shawl from inside the utility room. She offered a red one to Kim.

‘I'm fine,' Kim said.

It was almost nine and the temperature had reached one degree.

Karen closed the kitchen door and pulled the shawl tightly around her. ‘What's—'

‘Tell me about Robert,' Kim said, moving away from the back door. Karen followed, looking confused.

‘He is a truly wonderful man. I didn't necessarily think so when we first met but he's persistent when he wants to be.'

Kim nodded. This was Karen's one chance to tell the truth.

‘I was working late shift at a luxury car rental place. Every few weeks he'd come in to lease a car for the weekend. He liked to drive different cars but didn't see the point in owning a whole fleet with only himself to enjoy them.

‘We had a few short conversations. I was twenty-two and he was forty-one. The fifth time he came in he brought me a huge bouquet of flowers. At first I refused to take them and do you know what he said?'

Kim shook her head.

Karen smiled. ‘“Please don't think my attention is creepy, despite the age difference. I'm not a grubby old man; I am courting the woman I would like to be my wife.”'

‘Smooth,' Kim said.

‘It was clever. All weekend I couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said and therefore couldn't stop thinking about him.

‘I resolved to give him a piece of my mind the next time we met but then I didn't see him for almost a month. And I realised that I wanted him to come in.

‘When he did, he was wearing a tuxedo. He looked so handsome and suave I couldn't tell him off. He acted as though nothing had happened and asked for the most expensive car we had. It was a Bentley convertible. I asked why the special occasion and he told me it was for a very important first date. Ours.'

It was a move that could have been plucked from a romantic comedy but it had worked and Robert appeared to be a very nice man.

‘We were married exactly one year later. It was beautiful.'

This was not moving as quickly as Kim would have liked. She took the express route.

‘Does Robert know that Charlie is not his child?'

Somewhere in this fairytale there had been deceit and Kim could no longer listen to the censored version.

Karen's head left the clouds and snapped towards her.

‘How the hell …?'

‘Because I've studied that photo and there is not one feature in her face that remotely resembles your husband, especially those lips.'

Karen's body crumbled as the sobs began. Kim continued to stare ahead.

‘Oh, God, Kim, it's such a relief to finally—'

‘Don't take your solace from me. I'm not a priest, Samaritan or counsellor. I'm a police officer and there's only one thing I need to know for sure.'

‘It was Lee,' she mumbled, looking down.

Kim nodded. She'd thought as much. She'd seen it in the lips. For a mean, aggressive piece of shit, he'd had a very feminine mouth.

‘It was just the once, I swear. I just couldn't—'

‘Karen, I don't give a shit. What does piss me off is that you didn't think it was important to tell me the truth immediately. Do you not understand that every single piece of information is vital? Do you really think withholding this kind of detail is going to help me get your daughter back?'

Karen's hand went to her throat. ‘Oh, God, Kim, I'm so—'

‘Does he know about her?'

Karen's face paled instantly. ‘You can't think—'

‘I can't afford not to think, Karen. I have to rule him out.'

Karen shook her head vehemently. ‘He doesn't know about Charlie. I never saw him again after … I don't even think of him being her father. To me her father has always been—'

‘Are you going to tell Robert?' Kim asked, pointedly. She had to know if a distracting domestic situation was about to unravel.

Karen looked horrified. ‘God, no. I can't tell him now and neither can you.'

Kim had no intention of telling Robert the truth. It was not her place but she had to investigate the possibility that Charlie's real father was involved.

She could understand Karen's refusal for full disclosure. Robert held the purse strings – and who was going to consider ruining themselves for a child who was not their own?

Karen took a step towards her. ‘Look, Kim, it really was just the one …'

Kim turned and walked away. There was an old adage that if you couldn't say anything nice, get the hell away before you said something very wrong. Or something like that. She wasn't sure of the exact wording as she'd never taken heed.

Personally, she hated deceit of any kind but in relationships it was unforgivable. If a relationship was over, kill it and move on but don't make someone you loved feel like a fool.

She entered the war room and rubbed her hands together.

‘Stacey, start working on finding a Lee Darby. He'll be in our system and shouldn't be too hard to track down.'

‘Got it, boss,' she said.

‘Umm … Guv, just to cheer you up, Woody's been on the phone,' Bryant offered. ‘He wants us to stop by.'

Fabulous, Kim thought, reaching for her jacket.

Her day hadn't started well and she had a feeling things were about to get worse.