by Diane Saxon
‘Okay.’
Jenna closed her eyes. Morris may be good, but if he’d given her a neighbourhood dispute to deal with, she might just flog him, especially now when they’d not made any progress tracking down Joshua with not a single lead to give them a direction to look.
She managed an interested murmur and waited, giving Morris the benefit of the doubt. If he said it was important, she’d run with it. The woman had all of two minutes before she handed her over to a uniform. It hardly required a detective to investigate a shouting match.
‘Normally, she lives on her own. I’ve not noticed anyone else, but there’s been so much shouting. In the middle of the night.’
Jenna slid her drawer closed. With her elbow on the desk, she rested her chin on her hand and let her spine slump as she reached for the mouse next to her computer, clicking it to kick the screen into action. She resisted the temptation to sigh. ‘Mmm-hmm.’
‘And then there’s the child…’
Jenna hesitated, her hand hovered above the mouse. ‘Child?’
‘Yes. There’s a child. Didn’t I mention? Maybe I said it to the man I spoke to.’ The nerves made her voice pitch higher. ‘Crying so much. I keep hearing it. It’s really…’ She paused. ‘… pitiful.’
Jenna unrolled herself from the hunched-over position in front of her desk with a slow stretch of her spine until her shoulders cricked and she sat upright in her chair. ‘Tell me about the child.’
‘It’s crying now, I don’t know if you can hear it.’ She went silent and the distant sound of a wailing child filtered through the phone, barely perceptible but supporting her point. ‘It’s been like that for the past hour. A whole hour.’ Her voice cracked on a broken sob. ‘My heart is pounding. I want to go in and check that everything’s all right.’
‘What makes you feel it shouldn’t be all right, Mrs Hanson?’ Children cried, didn’t they?
‘Lorna. Lorna Hanson. There was so much shouting. And then it went silent, except for the child crying.’
The flutter in Jenna’s chest warned her that things weren’t right. The woman’s concern convinced her. Used to dealing with incidents where people’s emotions ramped up to near hysteria, Jenna found herself largely unaffected, but something in this woman’s tone caught at her. She placed her fingers at the base of her throat and absent-mindedly registered the escalation of her pulse rate. ‘Is this unusual?’ At the silence that greeted her, Jenna elaborated. ‘Is it unusual for the child to cry for so long?’
The quick intake of breath on the other end of the phone had Jenna pressing it to her ear.
‘Well, yes. It is unusual… I’ve never known a child to live there.’
Jenna shot to her feet as the adrenaline did its job. ‘What do you mean?’ A sharpness slid into her tone.
Lorna let out an impatient huff as though she couldn’t believe Jenna could be so slow to catch on. ‘When I said she lived alone, that’s exactly what I meant. She doesn’t have a child. I’ve never seen a child. Never heard a child before. I haven’t seen this one. It was just there. Crying all the time.’
‘Right. Lorna, when did you first become aware there was a child next door?’ Jenna tilted her head and knew the moment Mason caught her gaze as he came to his feet and strode towards her across the main office with Ryan in hot pursuit.
‘I don’t know. I was away the weekend. Probably Monday night when I got home from work. It was only faint then. I thought Emily had the TV up too loud at first. I didn’t really think much of it until the middle of the night, when the crying went on and on. And then last night it was silent. All night long, there was nothing and I thought maybe she’d had a visitor who’d left. But this morning. It’s just crying and crying. The poor child.’ The breath she drew in stuttered down the phone. ‘I went round ten minutes ago, rang the doorbell, but there was no answer. Do you think she’s okay?’
‘Lorna, give me your address.’ Jenna yanked open the top drawer of her desk and snatched the pen back out of the organiser. She tucked the phone under her chin and scribbled the address down as Lorna reeled it off. ‘We’re on our way. Give us fifteen minutes, Lorna.’ She flung the pen across the desk and slapped the phone back down. She snatched up her handbag as she rounded the desk.
‘Sarg?’
Heart now released from her restrictions, it pounded until her chest ached as she almost broke into a run. ‘Child heard crying by the neighbour.’ At Mason’s raised eyebrow, she puffed out. ‘No child known to live at that address.’
‘Right.’
Ryan scuttled to catch up with her, pulling alongside. ‘People visit with babies.’
‘Neighbour doesn’t believe she has anyone staying with her. Not seen anyone, just heard incessant crying.’ Jenna slapped open the door into the long, narrow hallway with the heel of her hand and stomped through, giving in to the temptation to break into a trot. ‘Lorna Hanson says she can remember the child being there from Monday. She said there was a lot of shouting early this morning.’ It was still early. ‘Then silence, except for the child crying.’ She held open the door to the stairwell and turned to catch their gazes. ‘It hasn’t stopped crying for the past hour or so.’
She raced down the stairs, with Mason and Ryan right behind her, their footsteps echoing up the empty stairwell.
As she shot through the bottom doors, she reached out her hand and snatched at the set of keys Morris tossed at her and caught them mid-air, a grateful smile on her face. ‘I owe you, Morris.’ She certainly did as he’d made an effort to organise the keys and meet her at the front desk, taking the initiative and time away from the back office he normally worked in.
‘I know you do.’ The deep tones of his amusement followed her through the sliding automatic doors out into the blazing sunshine, where the heat whipped the moisture from her lungs to leave her gasping for breath after the relative cool of the station.
Not sufficient to slow her or her team down, they charged over the moat crossing and made for the nearest car. The new one.
Jenna allowed herself a quick grin. Morris King. Good lad.
‘Do you think it’s Joshua?’ In a natural move of respect ingrained in him from his parents, Ryan grabbed the handle of the door and yanked it open for her to jump into the driver’s seat. In his eagerness, he slammed it behind her with enough force to make the car rock. As he slid in the seat behind her, the car almost kangarooed at the weight of his enthusiasm.
‘Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Ryan.’ She tried to inject an element of restraint into her voice, but it cracked with excitement and eagerness on his name.
She whipped her strap around her and clipped it in as Mason slipped into the front passenger seat beside her, his own anticipation tightened his face as he clenched his jaw. She shoved the car into drive and took off through the car park, whipping out into the main stream of traffic in between two cars.
As she dipped her foot harder on the accelerator, excitement formed a hard knot in her chest. No matter the words she’d uttered to Ryan, hope flew high that this crying child was Joshua.
Please, God, let it be him.
33
Tuesday 13 July, 07:35 hrs
As they pulled up outside Lorna Hanson’s address, Jenna hit the off button and the engine cut. She smoothly moved the gear into park and leapt out of the car to dash along the narrow pavement to the address she’d been given.
‘Sarg,’ Excitement laced Ryan’s voice. ‘The car.’ It was all he needed to say as she was already with him, but as he pulled alongside her, he lowered his voice. ‘It’s a white Honda Jazz.’
‘No shit, Sherlock.’ Mason’s dulcet tones vibrated with the same excitement winding its way through Jenna as she approached the house.
Tall and willowy, the dark-haired young woman had her arms wrapped around her waist. Despite the weather, her shoulders rolled inwards in self-conscious agony. Fear filled watery blue eyes as she stepped over the small border into the next garden and pointed at the doo
r. Her mouth moved, but no words came out, as though she wanted to keep her presence a secret.
Jenna couldn’t blame her. So many disputes were started because neighbours were unable to keep from imposing their own morals, standards and thoughts on others. Reporting each other to the police often was the catalyst for disagreements to escalate into feuds.
In this case, the woman may well be correct.
Jenna’s heart clutched as hope filled her chest. ‘Lorna.’
The young woman nodded. ‘It’s still crying. I can hear it.’
Jenna tilted her head to one side, the distant strains of a child’s wails drifted from the open upstairs windows of the small, modern house, it’s exterior not dissimilar to the one Jenna owned.
Jenna nodded as she stabbed her forefinger on the doorbell of number sixty-eight and listened to the peal of it beyond the pristine, white door. She gave it less than a heartbeat before she reached out to try the handle. Locked.
‘Do you have a key?’ Neighbours often did.
‘No. I’m sorry. I don’t. We’ve never been that close. We’re out at work all day. Barely see each other.’
The child’s muted howls drifted on the heavy early-morning air.
‘Any of the other neighbours likely to have one?’
Lorna shook her head. ‘She keeps herself to herself. She’d put your bins out, lend you a cup of milk. The perfect neighbour. Until this.’ Lorna chewed on her thumb as she stared at Jenna. ‘I think it’s maybe in the back bedroom. I can hear it better from my garden.’
Jenna bent at the hips, eye-level with the brass letter box and twisted sideways to catch Lorna’s gaze. ‘What did you say her name was?’ She couldn’t recall if a name had even been mentioned.
‘Emily.’ Lorna’s rapid blinks accompanied her panicked gasps of breath.
Jenna poked the flap open on the letter box and placed her mouth as close as possible, projecting her voice into the hallway. ‘Emily. Emily? Can you hear me? Emily, it’s DS Jenna Morgan of West Mercia Police. Can you come to the door?’ She waited and listened and only the distant strain of a child’s distress filtered through. ‘Emily. Are you hurt? Are you able to come to the door?’
Nothing.
She stood upright and almost bumped into Mason as he leaned over her shoulder.
She elbowed him back, twisting her head around so she could look at him. ‘I think we need to get in there. Quick. There’s no response, no answer.’
Concern flickered over his face as he nodded his agreement. ‘Yeah. Perhaps she’s had an accident.’ He glanced at the closed door and narrowed his eyes. ‘Or left the baby alone?’ It wasn’t unheard of.
‘Can you break open the door?’ Jenna asked.
At his soft snort, she turned all the way around to stare at him. Willing to hit a charging rhino for her, it was the first time she’d ever encountered Mason’s resistance.
He raised his hand to cup one broad shoulder. ‘There’s no way even I have the power to shoulder that door open. It’s a five-lock security door.’
Ryan’s warm breath puffed out over the side of her neck, his keenness brought him in close enough to touch her. ‘Sarg, the windows are open upstairs. We just need a ladder.’
She turned, her nose almost bumped his as he hovered next to her, brimming with excitement, ready to make a move at her command. She slid her hand up into the space between them and raised her eyebrows to make him back off.
A swift blink was all the acknowledgement she received as he took a stride back, evidently unperturbed by the lack of personal space he’d granted her.
Jenna swivelled and took three strides forward along the path, making him scuttle backwards to keep from her treading on him. She spun on her heel, put her hands on her hips, tipped her head back and looked up at the first-storey window. She cruised her gaze over the fascia of the house. So similar to hers, possibly the same builder. No grips, no easy way up.
She could call for backup, but the child’s screams squeezed at her heart and kicked her pulse into overdrive. Whatever the reason, the child needed help and they didn’t have the time to wait for someone else to arrive. They needed to get in there without delay.
She turned to Lorna. ‘Do you have a ladder?’
The woman’s deeply furrowed brow cleared in a flash. ‘I do! My husband just bought them a couple of weeks ago so he could clean the windows himself.’ She cast a quick look at her house and lowered her voice. ‘He’s too mean to pay a window cleaner, but I reckon it’ll take him three years before he reaps the benefit of buying the ladders.’ She gave a sniff and then pointed in the direction of her rear garden gate. ‘They’re quite heavy.’
Mason stepped forward, the slow slide of his grin making the woman flutter. ‘If you show me where they are, I’ll get them.’
Jenna closed her eyes. Immune to it herself, it never failed to surprise her that Mason had no idea what his smile did to women.
Lorna raised her hand to her hair as her gaze skimmed over his thick, muscular arms and a low humming sound came from her throat. Not quite the shy, reticent woman Jenna had initially believed. Her only obvious reluctance was reporting her neighbour.
As they both strode off down Lorna’s garden pathway, Jenna raised her chin to gaze up at the window, open to catch the lightest of breezes as the heat hung heavy.
Aware of the stickiness already setting in, Jenna plucked the thin T-shirt from her chest.
Not the biggest fan of heights, she flexed her shoulders and blew out a breath. It wasn’t that high. It really wasn’t that high. She could do it. It wasn’t difficult.
‘You want me to go up, Sarg? I can come down and open the front door,’ Ryan offered.
The sobbing from upstairs stuttered and halted for a long moment and Jenna held her breath until the burn of it backed up in her lungs. ‘Yeah.’ As she stared up at the open window, she chewed her lips. ‘Ryan, pull on a pair of gloves.’
As he snapped on a pair of cream nitrile gloves, she weighed up the pros and cons of telling him to slide on a pair of shoe protectors as he pulled a pair from his pocket.
She shook her head. ‘Too risky on the ladders. Leave them for now.’
He stuffed them back in his pocket and squinted up at the window while they waited.
As Mason came from Lorna’s house with his chest puffed out and shoulders back as he strained against the weight of the ladders, Jenna resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. Dear God. There were definite disadvantages to working with your sister’s boyfriend. If Lorna raised her hand to stroke his arm, she’d not be amused.
At her deadpan look, Mason jiggled his shoulders with confused innocence and hefted the ladders upright to position them below the window. He gave a good hard rattle on them to make sure they were secure before he placed his foot on the bottom rung as the howl of the child started up again. He swept his hand through in an invitation. ‘There you go, Ryan. All yours.’ Dimples streaked across his face as he gave Ryan a wide grin. ‘Quick as you like, pal.’
Without hesitation, Ryan raced up the ladder, agile as a monkey, while Jenna tilted her head back to watch him. As he reached the top, she pulled in a deep breath and held it as he curled his fingers around the window frame, leaned back into open space above them and pulled the window out towards himself and let it sweep by.
Relieved, her breath shot out of her as he leaned back in.
He peered inside and then shouted down. ‘Empty bedroom.’
‘Get inside, come down, open the door.’
With the child’s insistent cries joining the buzz in her ears, Jenna snapped on her own gloves, aware of Mason doing the same, as they watched while Ryan swung his leg over the windowsill and hitched himself over to disappear inside.
‘Oh!’ Lorna puffed out a breathless word.
The thunder of Ryan’s size twelves pounded down the stairs while Jenna slipped on a pair of shoe protectors and, a split second later, the front door was flung open.
Without pa
use, Jenna shot past him and headed up the stairs, two at a time, towards the sound of the child’s worn-out cries with the knowledge her team would be right behind her. She slipped through onto the landing and followed the hoarse sobs of the child to a white-painted door.
Not hesitating, she barged through and staggered to a halt at the sight that confronted her.
34
Tuesday 13 July, 07:55 hrs
Bright crimson pooled out in a wide circle on the cream carpet in the centre of the nursery. Not a perfect circle, but a jagged, uneven drag of blood splatter, indicating movement of the victim long after the wound had been inflicted. A shuffle, a crawl.
Without pause, Jenna strode across the room. Giving the body a wide birth, she sidestepped it and swept the hysterical child into her arms from where she stood clinging to the rails of the cot.
Jenna barked out commands as she went. ‘Mason, check the body. Call an ambulance.’ Her mind on full alert, she scanned the room as she instinctively hugged the howling child to her, cradling its burning-hot face into her neck, oblivious of the snot and tears it rubbed against her skin.
Mason dropped to his knees beside the body and reached out to place his fingers against the woman’s neck. ‘Alive. Weak pulse, Sarg.’
Jenna swung round to face the open doorway before Ryan could make his way through, aware they could all contaminate the crime scene. The less footfall in the room, the better. ‘Ryan, stop where you are. Call for backup. Check the house, first upstairs and then down. Every cupboard and hiding spot. This woman’s been attacked.’ She glanced down at the victim, curled into the foetal position. ‘The front door was locked. The perpetrator could still be inside. Search. Fast. Report back.’
‘Sarg, I think the door is self-locking.’
As he turned, she halted him. ‘All the same, Ryan, be careful. Keep alert.’ She could do without another victim on her hands, which were already full of child.
With her palm against the back of the little girl’s head, rocking came instinctively to soothe the beyond hysterical child. Exhausted, the toddler’s body relaxed. A deadweight in her arms.