by Diane Saxon
Jenna waited in the silence and then prodded. ‘And how long was it? How long before you went down?’
His eyes shifted from side to side as though he tried to remember, to pin it down to an exact time frame. ‘Thirty. Thirty-five minutes maybe.’
Jenna nodded.
He smoothed his fingers over his skin, up towards his ears, which he cupped for a moment while he squeezed his eyes closed, screwing up his short, neat nose. ‘She said fifteen, and I was thirty. If only I’d gone down when she said I should. The whole situation would be different.’ His eyes sprang open as though he couldn’t bear to see what was behind them and he bounced his fists down on the counter to make it shudder. ‘I should have gone down when she told me to, but I wanted to finish it.’ His gaze raced around, skimming to the door. ‘It would never have happened if only I’d come down when I said I would.’ He drummed his fingers on the wooden countertop, the energy from them vibrating so hard the empty coffee cups Imelda had presumably readied, rattled in their saucers.
‘Zak.’
Ignoring her, his breath came in fast gasps.
‘Zak! Look at me.’
His gaze skittered to hers and then away.
‘Zak. Look at me.’
As his attention drew back to her, she sighed. ‘There’s no use torturing yourself. This is the situation, and you can’t change it. We can only go forward and do all we can to find out what happened to Imelda and find Joshua.’
Without making it obvious, she glanced at her iPhone for the time, imagining how long it would take for the doctor to prepare Imelda sufficiently to move her out of the hallway. Heartless it may be, but she needed to clear the area to get a clean sweep and find Joshua.
‘Zak.’ His gaze locked on hers as though her next words would put everything right. Heart softening, she knew exactly how it felt to lose someone. To not be in control. But she needed to concentrate, as she had when her own sister went missing, on the practicalities. The tactics that would find a missing person. ‘Tell me, what was Joshua wearing? I need to let my search team know.’ Men, in particular, didn’t always have a clue what their child was wearing and as he’d been busy with the DIY with Imelda looking after their son he may not know, but she could do with verifying it.
‘Ummm.’ He raised his hand and plucked at his bottom lip with his thumb and forefinger. ‘I think. Unless Imelda changed him, but I don’t think so…’
Aware of time ticking by, Jenna still gave him the space he needed to think of details that could prove vital.
Zak raised his hand to his chest and patted it. ‘A white T-shirt.’ He flashed a quick smile full of sad regret that made her heart tumble as she checked out Zak’s own dusty T-shirt. ‘Like mine.’ His breath hitched in and Jenna found it hard to swallow as tears welled in his eyes. ‘And a pair of thin, cotton dungaree shorts.’ He patted his knee-length navy shorts. ‘Same…’ His voice broke as his lips turned down and he placed his head in his hands.
She settled back in her stool to give him a moment.
He cleared his throat. ‘Nothing on his feet. He hates anything on them. Loves to toddle around in bare feet, strips anything off that we put on him. He’s been a nightmare lately. He’s worn Imelda down to the bone while I’ve been at work. Never stays put. He’s only just learnt to walk, so he combines that with a crab-like crawl and then staggers around until he falls on his bum again.’ His voice caught in his throat and he paused before he could go on. ‘Put him down and he’s off like a rocket. And Imelda can’t pick him up as much any more with the baby on its way.’ He fisted his hand against his mouth and held still.
With a sigh, she turned her head as the kitchen door was inched open and DC Ryan Downey poked his head round.
Surprise and a little nudge of relief wrangled together as she stared at him while he pushed the door wide and stepped through.
Young, keen and enthusiastic, his energy bounded around the room, as would he, given half the chance. Never still, he filled his personal space to capacity as he stepped forward, ready for an introduction.
‘Zak, this is DC Ryan Downey. Another member of my team.’ Her voice was laced with pride as she introduced him. ‘This is Zak Cheetham-Epstein.’
Ryan took a moment to shake the other man’s hand. ‘I’ve just spoken with PC McGuire. She’s brought me up to speed. I’m very sorry, sir.’ Ryan dropped the other man’s hand and took a step back. ‘Sarg, Mr Cheetham-Epstein, I thought you’d want to know they’re preparing to set off in the next few minutes with Mrs Cheetham-Epstein by ambulance down to Coalbrookdale and Ironbridge school to meet the Air Ambulance.’
Zak shot to his feet, fear slashed across his face. ‘I need to see her, I should go.’ He took a step and then twirled back around. ‘I don’t know what to do. What should I do? I can’t leave Joshua.’ He melted back onto the stool, his face a picture of misery and confusion.
‘Imelda is in safe hands, Zak. There is nothing you can do for her. As soon as the doctors assess her, we’ll get an update on her condition.’ She circled a thought around in her head, it might be pre-empting, but she needed to know, just in case. ‘Zak, do you know if there was anyone Imelda didn’t get along with? Someone, maybe with a grudge?’
Confusion flitted over his face. ‘I don’t know a single person who doesn’t love Imelda.’ His brows lowered. ‘Why…?’
‘Dad…’ Ryan’s words stumbled out and Jenna appreciated his deliberate interruption to distract Zak from his train of thought. Now was not the time to explain that he was prime suspect if Imelda’s fall proved not to be an accident. ‘I mean Jim Downey, has started to set up SOCO, Sarg. He’s been waiting outside while they tended to Mrs Cheetham-Epstein.’
‘Thank you.’ Jenna swiped a quick hand across her throat to wipe away the gathering sweat. ‘DC Downey will also help with our enquiries.’
Aware of Ryan exuding an abundance of energy as he crossed over to the window overlooking the gorge, his sharp gaze took in their surroundings. Why wasn’t he hot? Where she was slicked with a fine coating of sweat, the fresh scent of his deodorant and aftershave wafted through to follow him across the room. Did he never run out of energy?
Jenna turned her head to catch Mason’s eye as he finished off the quiet conversation through Airwaves to pass on the details of Joshua’s outfit to control as she knew he would. He shot her a quirk of a smile.
With his back to them, Ryan let out a low humming sound. ‘Has anyone checked down here?’ He pointed his finger, cruising it along the vast expanse of the gorge.
Zak surged to his feet to rush over to the wide bifolding patio doors, in a flash he reached his hand out for the door handle.
Jenna shot off her stool and with barely a split second to spare, she clamped her hand on Zak’s as he went to open the door. ‘Zak, don’t touch it. DC Downey will check.’ Aware that he’d immediately compromise any forensic evidence had the door handle been touched by someone else, Jenna gently drew Zak’s hand away, puffing out a breath.
Distress flashed over his face as his panic surfaced. ‘Joshua.’
‘Give me a description if you will. Height, hair colour, eye colour.’
Confusion flitted through his eyes before his chin came up, his eyes cleared, and he breathed in deep. ‘So high.’ He indicated just above his knee height with his hand and she estimated around twenty-eight to thirty inches. Was that normal for his age? She’d no idea. He touched his own hair. ‘Black hair. Ringlets, though.’ It confirmed the ID of the child in the photograph. Zak’s chest expanded and contracted as he dragged in deep breaths. ‘He was due to have it cut, but he looked so damned cute, we couldn’t bring ourselves to.’
‘Eye colour?’
Zak raised his hand and tapped the corner of his eye with his forefinger. ‘Blue, the same colour as mine.’
Unusual. More of a deep violet, than a bog-standard blue. Anything out of the ordinary that could be used to identify the toddler could serve them well as they took the search wider. Aw
are of time ticking past, Jenna held out her hand and Mason stepped forward, the photograph in his hand. ‘Is this Joshua?’
Zak’s breath hitched as he reached out to take the picture. ‘Yes.’
‘The most recent photo?’
Zak shrugged his shoulders. ‘Probably not, we have hundreds of him on our phones, but that was only taken about ten days ago. I only hung them yesterday. His eyes flooded with tears as Jenna silently slipped the photograph from his limp fingers.
12
Sunday 11 July, 12:45 hrs
The kitchen door swung open and sound flooded the room. Zak turned his head with small jerky movements as the family liaison officer stepped through and pushed the door closed behind her to block out the white noise that was generated by a swarm of scenes of crime officers as the medics evacuated.
Expression awash with concern and sympathy, Harry Darling’s sweet smile and cherubic face were the only things soft about her, unless you counted her name.
From past encounters, Jenna knew this woman had a heart of steel and a backbone of pure iron garnered through experience and necessity. In her job, she dealt with gruesome cases, getting involved at ground level with families who had suffered and often perpetrated the most horrific of crimes – child abuse, child abduction, sex trafficking, wife beating, husband beating.
She dealt with the ones that always got to you. With child abuse cases, where week after week Harry maintained close contact with the families, forming intimate bonds with the mothers, the fathers, the boyfriends. Having seen evidence of what the child had been through, knowing she was potentially befriending a murderer, an abuser, a sexual predator. And that was where the heart of steel, spine of iron came in.
For as long as Jenna had known Harry, an experienced officer, happily married with three children of her own, she'd never known her to become emotionally entangled in any of her cases. The woman exuded empathetic professionalism. She nurtured the families, the victims, the abusers, the murderers, the sexual predators. She gained their trust.
And she often garnered their confessions, too.
Jenna could not have wished for a better officer to take the first shift with Zak Cheetham-Epstein, with absolute confidence she could rely on an update from Harry later, which would be given in a succinct and precise manner, providing her with a thorough profile on the man in the room. Harry's opinion on that man and his involvement would be key. A clever woman. A qualified psychiatrist. Hugely respected in the profession. She was the best.
Jenna stepped towards her across the room to meet her halfway and, with her hand on Zak’s elbow, she guided Zak forward so that she could introduce them.
‘Zak. This is Harry Darling. Harry is our family liaison officer.’ She deliberately used Harry’s first name and not her rank of PC to settle them into an instant informality and friendliness as that was the relationship they needed to develop from an early stage. ‘She'll be looking after you from now on.’ She dropped her loose hold on his elbow as he stepped forward to offer his hand. ‘She'll keep you informed and she'll answer any questions that you have.’ Jenna offered Harry a warm smile. ‘Harry, this is Zak Cheetham-Epstein.’
Jenna stepped back. It was up to Harry now. She needed to gain Zak's trust. While Jenna got on with her job. He would be dependent upon her for some time to come. And dependency often lead to confiding. Confiding was a short step into confession.
Harry stepped forward into his personal space. Her soft brown eyes turned to liquid as a sweet smile lifted her cheekbones into sympathetic perfection. ‘Zak.’ She took hold of Zak's proffered hand, enveloping his larger one in both of her small, neat ones in a show of unity and compassion. ‘Let’s sit down for a moment, and presuming DS Morgan has everything she needs from you for the time being…’ she glanced at Jenna, who nodded, ‘we can let her go and get on with her job.’
‘I want to help. Why can’t I look for Joshua?’ His voice caught on his son’s name.
Her hands still covering his, Harry led him back to the stools. ‘The best way you can help is to sit with me and we’ll run through what’s happened. I know you’ve probably told Sergeant Morgan everything already, but I’d like to hear it again so we can get things sorted out.’ She glanced up at Jenna and sent her a quick wink to let her know it was fine to go. ‘We need to find somewhere safe for you to stay.’
‘Safe?’ Confusion flitted over his face. ‘I’m in no danger, am I?’
Harry let go of his hand with one of hers and pulled the stool Jenna had just vacated clear away from the counter, inviting Zak to sit down. ‘Let me explain the process.’
Jenna raised her chin and gave a quick jerk of her head towards the door, knowing both Mason and Ryan had caught the signal as they moved in tandem to join her.
Before they got there, the door to the hallway swung open again and DI Taylor strode into the room. Shoulders pushed back, thick neck bulging over the tight collar of his pristine ironed white shirt, emphasised by a severe short back and sides. Jenna had never seen him with so much as a single strand of hair resting on his collar.
A stalwart of policing. Jenna had nothing but respect for DI Taylor with his high standards and old-fashioned policing style, together with his absolute sense of loyalty to his officers. There wasn’t a member of staff in the station who didn’t respect him.
Jenna not only held respect for him, but also a deep affection borne of both working together and the considerable amount of support he’d shown her personally in the last year. There may be moments when he felt the need to rebuke, but more often than not, the man had her back.
Without a smile splitting his face, he somehow managed to make himself look friendly and warm. ‘Mr Cheetham-Epstein.’
‘Zak, please. Otherwise, it’s a bit of a mouthful.’ Zak gave a self-conscious dip of his head and revealed the shy side of his nature Jenna suspected was there. This wasn’t a man who’d attempted to murder his wife and hidden his son. Her heart told her so, but it was her head that needed to take the lead. And she’d follow the process. But she’d grown used to trusting her own instinct too.
‘Zak, then.’ Without invitation, Taylor drew the stool towards him that Jenna had just vacated and plonked his hefty weight down onto it, making the fragile piece of furniture creak in protest. ‘I’m DI Taylor from Malinsgate Police Station.’ He cast his gaze around the room. ‘I think we can let these officers get on their way now, so they can join the others looking for your son.’ As Jenna, Mason and Ryan moved towards the hallway door, Taylor didn’t pause. ‘We’re going to take you upstairs to your room, so you can change out of what you’re wearing, then we’ll gather some clothes and personal effects and take you to our safe house.’
Zak’s reddened eyes turned desperate. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘It’s so we can conduct all the forensics we need to in your house without you moving around, possibly smudging any evidence that we may need. This will probably take a few days, so it’s best if we move you out, make you comfortable elsewhere. Once we’ve gleaned all we can, we’ll talk about who you can stay with. Do you have somewhere you can stay nearby once we’re happy for you to move from the safe house?’
Zak ran a shaky hand through the long, dark flop of hair, scraping it back from his forehead. ‘Yes. My parents.’ His eyes went wide. ‘I need to tell my mum, she’ll be frantic.’
With her hand still on his, Harry nodded. ‘We’ll get to that shortly. Right now, we need to look after you, make sure you have everything you need, then we’ll get all the information and contacts and ensure everyone is kept informed.’
As Jenna reached the door, all three Airwaves radios crackled to life.
‘Air one to control, Air one. ETA two minutes.’
At the increased level of noise from above them, Jenna peered behind her through the vast window as the helicopter swooped in, skimming the walls of the gorge. It was their best chance of finding Joshua. She knew from past experience just how infallible the Air Unit
could be. If there was a body transmitting heat, dead or alive, the crew of Air one would find it.
13
Sunday 11 July, 12:55 hrs
Jenna tiptoed her way past the SOCO officers, hoping like hell Jim Downey wouldn’t call them out for not being properly hazmat suited and booted while they stepped all over his scene. It couldn’t be helped. Accident morphed to possible crime scene had happened quickly and now they were on the inside trying to get out.
She glanced back at Mason and Ryan, tightening her mouth as she took in the plastic coverings they yanked onto their boots as they stepped out of the kitchen.
Mason jiggled his eyebrows at her as he hopped on one foot while he yanked the blue cover over his other foot.
Clever little buggers never offered her a pair.
It was only her who would get hell if Jim caught her.
With no sign of Jim, she ran the gauntlet and reached the end of the narrow hallway without being challenged. Determined to keep a lid on matters before the local neighbourhood was instilled with panic, Jenna stepped outside the front door and raised her hand to draw their attention as she walked towards the growing crowd.
She took her time to survey them and thought nobody other than Mason, who was directly behind her, would have caught the slight hitch in her stride as her gaze slammed into Kim Stafford, her nemesis.
Known to her since school, Kim had become the bane of her existence. The local reporter for The Shropshire Star, the man had managed to inveigle his way into West Mercia Police, picking up information he should never have had access to. That source of information was no longer of any help to Kim since PC Lee Gardner had been killed.
Since the demise of his foothold in the Force, Kim’s intrusion had been considerably less, but he still managed to turn up at points in her working day when she could do without him. A painful reminder of where things had gone wrong.