by Diane Saxon
Jenna shook her head, with no words to offer, as he handed her a bottle, first taking a moment to unscrew the lid for her. She gulped the liquid down to wash away the tears that threatened. She took deep draughts of it until the whole bottle was empty, noting as she finished that Mason and Ryan were already on their second bottles. She accepted another without word from Taylor as he let her settle herself in the heavy silence of defeat.
Instead of drinking from the second bottle, she held it against her breastbone and rolled the coolness of it back and forth to give a much-needed relief to the burn in her skin.
She glanced around at the others, uniform wearers or not, they were all in short sleeves. At a guess, not one of them had taken the time, nor given the thought, to apply sunscreen, having not expected to spend the day out in the blazing hot sun.
It was her call to ensure they each took care of themselves, although Taylor was there and would step in if he believed she was too exhausted to look after herself and her team. He looked after her, she looked after them. That was the whole point of a hierarchy.
She circled around, checked her team.
Donna had her head tipped back, water streaming from her lips, off her chin and down the front of her uniform top. Tempted to do the same, or even dump the contents of the whole bottle over her head, Jenna raised it to her lips instead and this time took a slow sip.
They’d done enough for now. There was only so much they could do in the heat without a break, so far she could push them or herself. The second team were in place and probably better prepared. They’d have had a chance to apply sunscreen, they could take the bottles provided with them to hydrate while they searched.
The sun blazed down, not having a chance yet to lose any of its raging heat. It still had the capability to burn tender flesh.
DI Taylor waited a moment longer and then raised his chin to address them all, taking over Jenna’s job. She must look worse than she thought. Evidently like hell. ‘Okay, team, you've done your bit for today. You need to make your way back to the station, take your refs where you can if you're in the middle of your shift, then write up your notes. Go home if your shift is at an end. Any officer wishing to stay on will be paid overtime, but I need you refreshed first.’
As expected, most of the onlookers nodded their agreement. It was a rare case for an officer not to continue their shift when a child was missing, but they all had personal lives, and they all had different priorities.
Jenna clutched her white shirt and held it away from the stickiness of her skin, while she breathed deep, sucking in precious lungsful of humid air. She rolled her body forward and arched her spine as she rested both hands on her knees while DI Taylor continued to brief the team.
‘As you will have noticed, I've sent a second team down to relieve you. And there will be a third one in a few hours, should we need it.’ Jenna raised her head as he paused. ‘We have local volunteers who are hill climbers that have started at the bottom of the valley and are working their way upwards to meet in the middle. They are being coordinated by Sergeant Lopez. As many of you will know, he’s an experienced officer in search and rescue. We have additional uniform officers who are conducting house-to-house and have been, without success, since the missing lad was called in by Sergeant Morgan earlier. Almost every neighbour in the area is out on foot or in their cars looking for this little boy.’
Taylor rolled his lips inwards. ‘It is essential that we find him as soon as possible because every minute now is a minute closer to not to finding little Joshua alive. In this heat…’ Taylor spread his hands, ‘even as evening falls, the temperature isn’t due to drop very much below twenty-five degrees. It is the hottest day of the year so far, reaching temperatures of thirty-four degrees, and that’s in the shade, as I'm sure you are all aware.’ He bent and picked another bottle from the dwindled crate, jiggled it in his hand. ‘Help yourselves to more water. One of the local breweries has sent it for all the search team.’ He twisted the lid off the bottle and took a quick swig.
‘Further news is that I can confirm Zak Cheetham-Epstein is in the safe house at Forty-Two, Falsworth Road, where Harry Darling will be with him until midnight tonight when she will be relieved until ten o'clock tomorrow morning. Having spoken to both Zak and Harry, I am at this moment in time not entirely satisfied that he is not involved in the disappearance of his own son. We have no evidence to suggest anyone other than Zak, Imelda and Joshua were in the house together before the incident. However, as time and circumstances change as we know from experience, this opinion may be turned on its head. We don’t know for sure that Imelda was attacked. We have no forensics back to verify that, although she has suffered blows to the face. One is a gash to her cheek, which could have been caused by a sharp object. The other is a bruise to her chin.’ With a grim tightening of his mouth, Taylor met each of their gazes and moved on. ‘So far, there is no proof whatsoever that Zak Cheetham-Epstein is complicit in the disappearance of Joshua. Nor is there any to the contrary. He has been questioned, but at this stage there is no evidence to point either way.’
Jenna pushed herself upright and took another slug of water. She swallowed it and raised the bottle to catch DI Taylor's attention ‘Sir, has there been any news of Imelda?’
Taylor nodded, swiped sweat from his chin and continued. ‘I believe Imelda is currently undergoing surgery, having been put in an induced coma while they deal with the most serious injury which is a fractured skull.’
Jenna winced, looking around the team to gauge their responses, evidently, they all had the same sick feeling. ‘What about the unborn baby?’
Taylor inclined his head again. ‘For the time being, as the mother is stable, the medical team are monitoring the foetus. Unless there is good reason to, they will not take any further action, provided the baby receives adequate oxygen and does not become distressed. We won’t know,’ DI Taylor continued, ‘for some considerable hours the outcome, but she is in a highly serious condition, I’ve been informed.’
Jenna closed her eyes while she listened, rubbed her fingertips across the thin line of her eyebrows and pulled her fingers away streaked in minuscule grits of salt where dehydration had set in.
‘Zak is currently being comforted by his mother and father who have been allowed in the suite at the safe house. Tomorrow we will consider allowing Zak to go and join them in their family home should we be satisfied with his role in this affair while SOCO finish doing their bit in his house and the surrounding area.’ DI Taylor gazed around the circle of officers. ‘Any questions?’
Almost too exhausted to speak, Jenna looked around at the others to check if they had any queries.
As expected, Ryan’s hand had already shot in the air. ‘Sir.’
‘Yes, DC Downey.’ The twitch of Taylor's lips gave away the fact that he knew DC Downey as well as Jenna did and was well aware that he would come up with a question nobody else would voice but everyone wanted to know.
‘Will Zak be allowed to join in the search for Joshua if we haven't found him by tomorrow?’
Taylor placed his fists on his hips and took a deep breath. ‘That's something we'll have to wait and see, DC Downey. At the present time, he has a perfectly valid story. However, as far as we know at present, there were only three people in that house. One of them is currently seriously injured, the second one is missing. And therefore, we only have the word of the third one as to exactly what events went on within those four walls.’ Taylor clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. ‘Having said that, we also have no evidence to say it was anything but an accident until SOCO gather all of their information. As already mentioned, there was concern expressed by one of the paramedics that Imelda may have suffered blows to the face before her head hit the floor, not in keeping with the theory that she slipped and fell backwards. That would put Mr Cheetham-Epstein as our prime suspect. This is something we are awaiting confirmation of from the medical team. As we can all appreciate, their priority is to s
ave Imelda’s life and that certainly isn’t a foregone conclusion at this time.’ DI Taylor rubbed his hands together as he waited a heartbeat. ‘Any further questions?’
Ryan's hand raised again. ‘At what time will you call off the search, sir?’
DI Taylor sent Ryan a hard-eyed squint. ‘Not until the boy’s found, DC Downey, not until Joshua is returned to his family.’
Jenna pressed her fingertips into her closed eyes as the prospect of finding Joshua alive slipped away.
20
Sunday 11 July, 13:45 hrs
With legs as heavy as her heart, Jenna made her way back towards the police vehicle with Mason and Ryan in tow, their feet dragging as much as hers. Her stomach gave a low rumbled protest at the lack of food since her meagre breakfast earlier that morning.
‘There’s nothing more we can do at the moment.’ Aware she was flagging, Jenna recognised she needed to charge her batteries.
‘Excuse me. Miss. Miss!’
Jenna’s feet faltered as the anxious, high-pitched voice scratched like fingernails on a blackboard. She made a quarter turn, just as Kim Stafford’s head shot up from where he perched a few paces ahead on a garden wall in the shade, mug in one hand, iPad in another. His nostrils twitched as though he scented a story long before the news had broken.
‘Hello.’ The woman trotted on her toes in hurried footsteps from across the narrow road. ‘Miss, I’m told you’re in charge.’
‘Sergeant. Detective Sergeant Morgan.’
Jenna thought the woman might not stop as she teetered close enough to touch. ‘Well, miss,’ Breathless, her voice squealed out. ‘I’m Rose Anderson. I live at Cherry Tree House.’
Jenna almost replied, ‘Of course you do.’ But held onto her tongue.
‘Nice to meet you, Rose.’ Jenna smiled. ‘What can I do for you?’ She didn’t recognise the woman from the neighbourhood crowd earlier and she’d definitely not have missed her. A strange little creature who wore a voluminous ankle-length dress in garish orange, purples and blues tied at the waist with a gold rope sash.
Rose Anderson’s tiny pixie face screwed up in pain and distress. She squinted at Jenna through thick glasses, which made her eyes appear small and piggy. Devoid of make-up, except two bright circles of dusky pink on her cheeks, together with a vibrant stripe of fuchsia smeared over the thin line of her lips to give her the appearance of a strange china doll.
‘I think it may be what I can do for you, miss.’ She took a long pull of air in through narrow nostrils and stretched herself up to her height of no more than five foot two inches, full of self-importance. ‘I think I have something you need to see.’ She half-turned away and called out over her shoulder. ‘I’ve just got back from the garden centre.’
Mason pulled up alongside Jenna as she crossed the road, striding out to keep up with the little woman’s fast trot. ‘Please don’t tell me she wants us to see her clematis.’
Ryan caught up on the other side. ‘I bloody hope not, I’m starving.’
Jenna kept her voice low. ‘I hope to God she’s going to tell us she took Joshua out with her and now he’s asleep on her sofa.’ It was a long shot, but she’d take it.
Rose stopped at her garden gate and swung it open, holding onto it to let them through. An unnatural spark of excitement filled her face as she whipped away and through her front door with the expectation they would follow her.
Jenna shot a quick glance over her shoulder at the journalist behind them. The desperate desire to follow them written all over his face as the rickety gate swung closed against his entry.
Jenna’s lips twitched as she turned her back and strode after the little woman.
Built into the hillside, partially underground, the small, dark steel worker’s cottage offered a well-deserved respite from the heat outside.
Jenna darted a quick scan around the snug room, straight off the front door. Populated with a threadbare sofa and cushions and at least eleven indolent cats draped over the furniture and a long wooden windowsill.
‘Here.’ Rose beckoned them over to a state-of-the-art laptop, in sharp contradiction to the rest of the house, placed on a small, battered coffee table. ‘My son’s a security guru. Insists I have CCTV.’
Interest sparked. Jenna had hoped to find a sleeping child in the small cottage, but this may prove to be the next best thing. Had Rose caught on camera the direction Joshua went as he toddled out of the front door?
Rose took a seat in front of the laptop. ‘Fiona over the road told me about young Joshua. They’re a lovely family.’ She tucked a strand of grey hair behind her ear and tapped a button. ‘I thought I would check my CCTV.’
Jenna held her breath as Rose tapped again and then swivelled the laptop round, keenness vibrating through her as she tapped her finger on the keyboard and pressed play.
As silence hung in the air, Jenna held her breath.
‘Christ!’ Mason leaned in as the word exploded from his mouth.
Ice formed in Jenna’s veins as she squinted at the blurred image on the screen. ‘What the hell?’
21
Sunday 11 July, 14:55 hrs.
Jenna splashed icy water over her face and breathed deep, shock still reverberating through her body. She patted her face dry with three sheets of the thin paper towelling and straightened.
Well, who would ever have guessed?
Still ravenous, she considered her hunger could take a back seat until she was done. And she was almost done.
She yanked open the door and stepped into the long, wide hallway from the ladies’ toilet in Malinsgate police station, turned right and headed for the incident room.
Crammed full of officers of every rank and discipline, their attention whipped around to her the moment she walked through the door to stand side by side with DI Taylor.
Without preamble, Jenna launched straight into her findings. ‘Thank you to all of you here. I appreciate many of you have stayed well past the end of your shift.’ She raised her hand to rub a finger over her eyebrow. ‘Within the last thirty minutes, we have been provided with information vital to our investigation into the missing toddler, Joshua Cheetham-Epstein.’
She cast a quick glance around at the enthusiastic faces and gave a nod to Ryan, who adjusted the laptop and, with a quick tap, brought an image of an empty street up which transferred onto the white screen covering the whole of one wall of the incident room.
An empty street but for the rear wing of a car.
‘Rose Anderson, neighbour opposite the Cheetham-Epstein house, arrived home from a garden centre visit with no knowledge of what had transpired this morning. As soon as she was told, Mrs Anderson checked her CCTV, which, as you can see, catches the edge of the Cheetham-Epstein property. She had hoped she might catch a view of Joshua.’
Ryan tapped another key and the video started. Six seconds in, a figure appeared. Ryan tapped again and the blurred image froze on screen.
‘Mrs Anderson’s CCTV caught this figure on screen. It’s right on the edge of the shot and blurred. But…’
Ryan edged the image onwards several seconds to the next grainy shot as Jenna closed in to tap the white screen and make it wobble.
‘That figure has a child in their arms.’ A hum of interest buzzed around the room, a cacophony of white noise which throbbed in her head together with the high-pitched tinnitus.
As Ryan moved the video on, one frame at a time, Jenna brushed aside the pulsing vibration and pointed.
‘At the very edge of the camera’s vision, blurred it may be, but that appears to be Joshua Cheetham-Epstein in the arms of an unknown person.’ She circled her hand around the image. ‘As the child shields the vast amount of their face and body, we cannot immediately identify if this person is male or female. What we do know is that they abducted Joshua, put him in a white car and drove off.’
As the car drove away to leave the street empty, Ryan backtracked until the image of the person showed again as it leaned into the passenge
r seat of the car at the very edge of the image.
‘We have intelligence looking at this to try to enhance the images and identify this car.’ She tapped on the screen. ‘There’s barely any of it visible, certainly no registration plate, just half of the front headlight and the wing. As the CCTV image is blurred at this distance, we can only identify that this is either a white, or a light-coloured car. Hopefully, we’ll have more in the morning.’ She pushed her bottom lip out as she tracked around the room. ‘Obviously, we’ve now escalated this incident from an accidental fall with a missing child, to possible assault of Imelda Cheetham-Epstein and kidnap of her son, Joshua.’
22
Sunday 11 July, 22:15 hrs
Jenna turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, no more refreshed than when she stepped in as an instant slick of sweat formed on her skin. She rubbed it off again with her fluffy blue towel and applied deodorant under her arms, something she wouldn't normally use on her way to bed but with no respite from the stifling heat, she didn’t need the dampness of her own sweat slicking the sheets by the time she woke in the morning.
Too hot even for the shower to steam up the mirror, Jenna was pulled towards it, tempted to check out the extra worry lines she must have developed that day. Eyes filled with sorrow stared back at her, while the lines bracketing her mouth had deepened with exhaustion, disappointment and fear. Disappointment that little Joshua was nowhere to be found and that time had ticked away. Precious time that made his rescue less viable with every minute. Fear for his safety.
Where the hell could he be? Who had taken him?