Mummy's Favourite (33 page)

‘So why didn't she report it at the time?'

‘Because she was an illegal and was threatened with deportation by the policeman. She was too scared and she needed the money. He paid her fifty quid.'

‘Sounds far-fetched enough to be true.'

‘Guv, I have a good feeling about this. I'll give Bet and Naz a ring so they can start making phone calls, just the girls. I don't want anyone else to know. We need to find who the husband was and the names of all the police officers connected with the missing person enquiry.'

‘That could take a while.'

‘Not if you can get someone started on it straight away. I'll be back soon with Olga Kaplinski and someone can get a full statement from her, maybe even show her some photos if we get any names. Guv, the psychologist said that our killer has almost certainly abducted or killed before; especially with the recent escalation. This could be the break that we've been waiting for.'

It was mid-afternoon when Charlie arrived back at Lambeth HQ. She was going to ask Naz to take Olga's statement as she thought the two of them would have experiences in common.

She brought Olga up through the back staircase to her office. There they had a small, comfortably furnished room that they used for taking statements from domestic violence victims. It was equipped with a kettle and a small cupboard of provisions, as well as a children's play area with a few toys that had been donated by previous thankful victims. Bet was in the office when they walked in, having tucked herself away behind her work-station to concentrate on the phone calls that were beginning to arrive from Dover. Sabira, Paul and Colin were tapping away at their computers too.

‘Where's Naz?' Charlie stopped to speak briefly with Bet. Olga stood waiting quietly.

‘She's not in as yet. Texted earlier to say that she had some sort of problem with her kids and she'd be late in, or not in at all. Looking at the time now, I'm guessing she won't be coming in at all.'

‘In that case, Sabira could you get Olga's story down for me please.'

Sabira and Colin both looked up towards her and she nodded.

‘Yep, no problem, Charlie. Not got too much on at the moment anyway.'

‘Thanks Sabira. I'll get Olga settled and then I need to speak to Hunter.'

She started to show Olga towards the interview room.

‘Anything yet?' she turned quickly, whispering to Bet.

‘A few interesting snippets and I think we've found the report. I'll speak to you in a few minutes when you're free.'

She nodded her approval and disappeared into the room, settling Olga down in a comfortable chair before leaving her. She needed to find Hunter asap.

‘What's all the secret squirrel stuff?' Paul said with a conspiratorial wink as she came back out.

‘Nothing for you to worry about,' she winked back, as she dialled Hunter's number. Paul was such a gossip.

‘Go on Bet,' he insisted. ‘You can tell us.'

Bet shook her head and glanced towards her. She nodded her approval. If her own colleagues couldn't be trusted, who could? Plus, then they could all help and get the job done quicker. It was a shame Naz wasn't there too, especially if her hunch proved to be right. They could all share the glory.

‘Well, it's just a Polish woman called Olga who Charlie spoke to on
Crimewatch
. Came up with a story from twenty years ago that seems to mirror what is happening now. Might have nothing to do with it, but it's an interesting line of enquiry.'

Charlie put her finger to her lips and turned to Paul. ‘Don't say a word to anyone out of our office. I want to keep this just between us lot until I know more. I don't want to look an idiot in front of the whole station if it turns out to be nothing.'

Paul put his finger up to his lips too and smiled back at them both.

‘Don't worry, Charlie. Your secret is safe with me.'

*

Charlie was in Hunter's office when Bet called her on her personal mobile. She sounded worried.

‘I need you to double-check something for me. Can you come quickly. I don't want to explain over the phone.'

‘Bet, I'm in with Hunter. Can you come to his office? It's a bit quieter here.' She ended the call. Bet was on her way.

‘Bet's got something. It sounds important'. Bet looked on the verge of tears when she came in, clutching a wad of papers.

‘I need to show you something on the computer,' she said, placing the papers on the desk. Hunter stepped to one side and she quickly sat down and navigated to the right report.

‘Look!' she said, pointing towards the screen. ‘I was sent the missing persons record by Dover a while ago. They scanned it for us and sent it on. Look at who was assisting with the investigation.'

She pointed to a name on the screen. Charlie looked, recognizing the name instantly. ‘Now look at this.' Bet spread the domestic violence reports from Helena McPherson out across the desk.

‘When I saw that name on the Dover report I knew there had to be a connection between the Hubbard and McPherson cases that we'd missed, so I've searched through it again. Helena's ex, Gary Savage, was arrested and interviewed by PC Kate Rossler, but I knew that there must have been another officer present, so I checked out the custody record. Look who's shown as booking Savage out for interview.'

Charlie peered over at the small print. Clearly written was the name PC C Butler. Instantly, she knew what Bet was getting at.

‘Shit. And he dealt with Julie Hubbard's domestic issues. And he knows Dana and Gemma Latchmere. Shit, shit, shit!'

‘Butler? Colin Butler?' Hunter mouthed.

Bet nodded.

‘I wonder if Olga would recognise him, or more importantly whether he would recognise her.'

‘Does he know she's here?' Hunter was animated again.

‘Oh, my God!' Charlie looked horrified! ‘He was in the office just now when she came in with me, he must have seen her.'

‘But he surely wouldn't recognize her from all those years ago. She could be any domestic violence victim that we're dealing with.'

‘Yes, she could have. But we mentioned she was the Polish woman from Dover who spoke to me on
Crimewatch
about a similar incident twenty years ago. I think I even mentioned her first name when I brought her through. Shit!'

She turned to Hunter. She could feel her legs beginning to shake slightly. Without another word, both burst through the door into the main office.

Paul looked up surprised. ‘What on earth's the matter?'

‘Where's Colin?' she almost shouted.

Paul stared from one to the other of them, their shock registering on his face too.

‘He's gone out. About ten minutes ago. Said he had to make some urgent enquiries.'

She sprinted out of the office, taking the stairs three at a time, closely followed by Hunter. They ran through to the back of the building and straight to the car park, but Colin's car was missing.

‘Where could he have gone to?'

Hunter shrugged. ‘I think I could hazard a guess.'

They turned and ran back up the stairs to the office. Maybe Colin had left some clue as to where he might be heading but as she climbed the steps, she realised they were clutching at straws. He was too clever for that. It was too late. He knew.

Things were falling into place. How could they have missed the connection? Julie Hubbard's disappearance had been the first case they'd known about and he had dealt with her previous domestic issues, but who would have suspected him, especially with the likes of Keith, her violent husband, and Justin Latchmere, her lover?

He knew Dana and Gemma from the Hubbard enquiries.

Olga Kaplinski's information about the circumstances surrounding the case of Mary and Cain Townsend, flagged up the role of a police officer in their disappearance and indeed named Colin.

That in turn had provided the link to Colin's role as a witnessing officer in Helena MccPherson's domestic assault allegations.

It was so simple.

But what the hell had he done with them all? Could they still be alive? If they were and he knew they were on to him, he would more than likely be looking to silence them properly now. His victims were in more danger now than ever before.

They ran back into the main office where Bet was now sitting, white-faced and crying, her phone lying on the desk in front of her.

‘Are you OK? You've done brilliantly, even though it is a shock. None of us would ever have dreamed it could be Colin?'

She ran across and threw an arm around the older woman who was shaking.

‘It's not that. I've just had a call from Nathaniel's gran. She has me down as a contact if there're any problems. Apparently Naz hasn't turned up to collect Nathaniel as they'd arranged and she was supposed to be going out. Naz is nearly two hours late and she's had to cancel her outing. Nathaniel's still there, but Naz and Dean are missing. And I heard her and Colin talking the other day about places to go for day's out. Colin was offering to take her.'

‘We need to find out every little thing we can about Colin Butler.'

Hunter's voice was authoritative and urgent. ‘Where he lives, any places in the vicinity of his house that could be worth looking at. We know that the vehicle that was used when Helena and Daisy were abducted had mud on the wheels, so it's likely to be somewhere in woodlands, countryside, parkland. I'll get the helicopter scrambled straight away with its heat-seeking capabilities to search areas near to where both Dana's and the rental car were abandoned. We know what car he owns and that's been circulated as a matter of urgency to all units, although he'll no doubt know that.

We also need to find out what hobbies he has now? Gardening perhaps? There might be small-holdings, allotments that he could be using? Those of you that know him; sit down and go through everything that you can think of that he might have told you.'

‘He doesn't say much about his personal life,' Bet's face told the story. It was what they were all thinking. How could the abductor literally have been under their noses all this time, pretending to help when really he was revelling in his access to the investigation?

‘He must have said something. Any little thing, wrack your brains. Naz's life might depend on it.'

Charlie was listening to Hunter intently. Where would they get this information from quickly? Her mind was working fast. She vaguely remembered a conversation. Hadn't he recently worked with informants? He would have had to be given extra vetting for that job to make sure there was nothing that could make him open to bribes. His whole history would be on that vetting form, every family member, past and present, old addresses, place of birth, even old partners. It would be a few years old. He'd been working in their unit for a couple of years now, but it would still be relevant up until then.

She shouted across to Hunter.

‘I'm going to the Yard for his vetting forms. I'll give you a shout if I find anything.'

Hunter gave her the thumbs up and she was gone, running back down the stairs and out into the car park.

New Scotland Yard wasn't far; across Westminster Bridge, around Parliament Square and straight into Victoria Street. She was soon passing Big Ben, standing tall, peering down on to the roof of the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey. The car in front moved across into her lane. She hooted at the driver irritably, swinging her vehicle around it and accelerating away towards Victoria. The Yard was about halfway down, set back into Broadway, its triangular rotating sign synonymous with reliability and history.

She guided the car into the underground car park, cursing the attendant who seemed to be working in slow motion. Then she was flying up the stairs, running and running towards the records department. Hopefully she would locate Colin's vetting form easily and it would point them in the right direction. Time was of the essence.

She found it quickly, her hands shaking as she scanned through the twenty pages of personal information that only a handful of people would ever have seen. Shit, he'd had a hard time when he was younger. A brother shown as deceased at a young age in a tragic fall from cliffs, a mother who had committed suicide, no trace of a father. She'd had no idea. None of them had. Colin only ever spoke politics: judgments in favour of ex-wives, laws against paternal rights, the rights of local communities and individuals who he believed had been overlooked. Now it seemed there was a whole hidden life of tragedy that had formed his beliefs, maybe turned him into the monster he had become. She was reading as she walked towards the car again. She had to get the form back, so they could dissect every entry.

She read down through the first couple of pages. Nothing, then a name registered; what was it she remembered, something from a recent conversation with Colin. The local news headlines talked about a nearby hospital that was being closed and he had become animated by the political issues surrounding its closure. The news story mirrored what had happened to a hospital linked to his childhood. She read it again and strained to recollect the anger in his words. His hospital had been shut down forever, years ago, even after the local council had promised to keep it running as a downgraded non-emergency unit. It was the hospital where he had been born, into a busy thriving maternity wing. It was the hospital where he had gone alone, as a child, to be stitched up in an accident and emergency unit that no longer existed and hadn't for some time. She recalled Colin's words and his disbelief. How could they shut it down after all their promises to keep it running as a cottage hospital? How could cost-cutting come before the needs of the community? He had been incensed, particularly after a large petition from all the people in the neighbourhood had been ignored. The government was full of broken promises. They were then and they still were now.