Long Gone

by Paul Pilkington

  ‘We might have. But we had a good look.’

  Suddenly she had a thought. ‘That platform, can’t you get at it from the other side, from the Bakerloo Line? We didn’t check the cameras from that direction. She might have boarded the train that way.’

  ‘But if she was coming from West London, where you said the event was, then she would have caught the Circle Line.’

  ‘Unless she came from somewhere else, from another direction?’

  ‘Well, she could have done, but…’

  ‘Can we go back inside, ask them to take a look at the footage from that other direction?’

  ‘I… I really don’t think…’

  ‘If she did go that way, then it would show her, I’m sure of it.’ She gazed up at him expectantly, in the way that brought him back to those early years, when as a toddler she could persuade him to do almost anything with just that look.

  ‘Amy… you need to…’

  ‘Need to what? Need to calm down?’

  Oh no. Cullen felt sick as he saw that familiar defensive reaction in his daughter’s face. ‘Look, Amy, I didn’t…’

  ‘It’s not like last time,’ she protested, shrugging off his attempt to place a comforting hand on her arm. ‘I’m anxious for good reason, Dad! I’m not just making this up, it’s not just something out of my head.’

  ‘Amy, please…’

  ‘No, Dad, she’s in trouble, I know she is. She wouldn’t just disappear like this. Jack’s done something. Taken her. Maybe worse… I don’t know.’

  Cullen reached out again. His daughter was spinning out of control. ‘Please, Amy, you just need to sit down, think things through rationally, take a moment. You’re not being…’

  ‘Rational?’ she snapped. Her face collapsed into itself, as if she were fighting with thoughts. Cullen had seen it before, and it broke his heart. Again he reached for her. But again, she slipped away, stepping back towards the edge of the pavement, dangerously close to the road.

  Cullen backed off, hands held up. He needed to retreat, to give her some space. To his knowledge, she hadn’t been this bad for some years. How he wished Sarah were here now. ‘Amy, I’m here to help,’ he soothed. ‘I’m your dad.’

  ‘Then help me,’ she replied, her eyes filling with tears. She thrust a finger towards the building. ‘Go back in there, tell them to get the other footage from the station, tell them to get the cameras from on board the train, the cameras from Temple Meads, whatever it takes.’

  ‘We need to wait,’ he said. ‘If Natalie still hasn’t reappeared in a few days, or if there becomes more reason to worry about her safety, then I promise I’ll do all I can.’

  She shook her head.

  ‘We’ll be able to bring in all the necessary resources to find her,’ Cullen continued. ‘We’ll put out a national alert, her image will be distributed across the country. But we can’t do it yet. It’s too early. Particularly because of the text message.’

  ‘But we’re wasting time!’

  ‘There are just too many people who go missing every day. Most of them reappear soon after. They would never sign it off. And we can’t do anything without official clearance.’

  It wasn’t the answer she wanted to hear. ‘But can’t we just have a quick look at the other footage?’

  ‘It’s not that easy, Amy. You saw for yourself. Looking through all that footage, it’s a major job. Anthony did me a big favour, letting us go in there, but I can’t ask him to do any more. And if Natalie is still in London, which we’ve got no real reason not to believe, we still won’t find anything, no matter how hard we look.’

  Her face hardened. ‘Well. If you won’t help me, then I’ll just have to do this on my own.’

  And with that she set off, head bowed, down the street.

  ‘Amy! Please, come back!’

  She didn’t turn around. And Cullen knew better than to follow.

  9

  Amy was sitting at the far side of the coffee shop. She glanced up as Cullen approached and smiled apologetically.

  ‘I’m really sorry.’

  Cullen slid into the seat, heartened that Amy looked better already. She’d called him, directing him to the Starbucks just down the road, apologising and asking for another chat. ‘It’s okay, Amy, you don’t need to apologise.’

  ‘No, I do, I do. Just turning up out of the blue, disturbing your work, demanding you investigate.’ She exhaled loudly as she played with the spoon in her frothy coffee. She fixed him with those eyes again. ‘I’m scared, Dad.’

  ‘Scared of what might have happened to Natalie?’

  ‘No. Well, yes. But I’m scared about, you know, this.’ She gestured towards herself.

  ‘You’re worried about your anxiety coming back?’

  She snorted, again playing with the froth. ‘It never goes away, Dad. Never. Yes, it retreats. It’s controllable. But it’s still there, lurking, waiting to come out. Sometimes I kid myself that I’m cured. You know, like I’m in remission from cancer. Except that mental illness isn’t like that. I can manage it, but it’s always there, with me.’

  ‘You’ve done so well,’ Cullen said. ‘Since those really bad times. Me and your mum, we’re so proud of you, what you’ve achieved, in the face of that illness.’

  Amy looked off towards the distance. ‘I’ve been so good for a long while. But this thing with Natalie, I feel like I’m slipping back into quicksand.’

  ‘I’m here to help,’ he offered. ‘Me and your mum, we’ll always be here.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘I’m sorry I stormed off,’ she said. ‘I just needed a few minutes on my own. I found a little park around the corner, did some of my breathing and visioning exercises. It really helped.’

  ‘That’s great.’

  She nodded. ‘Do you think I’ve lost the plot? Coming here, accusing Jack Morton of kidnapping my friend, wanting my dad to save the day?’

  ‘Me saving the day part I can understand,’ he said, trying a joke. He was relieved that it garnered a smile from her. ‘The rest, I think it’s a case of holding off for a few days, for the reasons I outlined.’

  ‘I know you’re right…’

  ‘But you’ve still got those bad vibes.’

  She shrugged. ‘I’ll be fine. As long as Natalie does turn up.’

  ‘Maybe you need something to take your mind off things,’ Cullen said. ‘How about we have a day out around the city? The weather’s good. We could do whatever you like. The touristy thing. Maybe go for a cruise down the river? Head over to Greenwich? Whatever you like. We could go for a nice lunch somewhere too. Now you’re here, it would be a shame not to take advantage.’

  ‘But what about your work?’

  ‘I’m on a day off,’ he said. ‘Actually, a week off.’

  ‘Oh? But why aren’t you…’

  ‘With your mum? It’s a long story.’

  He explained what had happened that morning; the guy and girl on the tube, the suspected assault and subsequent chase out of the station, leading to the horrific collision on Euston Road.

  Amy shook her head as Cullen finished his account. ‘You should have said, Dad. All the time I was badgering you about my worries and you had all this to contend with.’

  ‘It’s okay.’

  ‘But are you okay? What you witnessed, what you were involved in, just a few hours ago, it’s pretty horrific. It must have been awful.’

  ‘I don’t want this to come across as sounding cold, Amy, but in my career I’ve lost count of the number of scenes I’ve come across that are up there with what I saw this morning.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Yes, it was shocking at the time, and I’ve thought about it a lot this morning – but it’s more from a dispassionate view, a detective’s perspective, trying to understand why the guy took off like that. The emotional side of things, I’m not thinking about him, his family, his friends, the terrible impact that this will have had on them.’

  Amy looked on
.

  ‘You know, when I think about it, how I’ve been hardened against stuff like that, it’s actually quite disturbing. But it has to be like that, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to do this job. It’s the only way of staying sane.’

  ‘I understand. So what now?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘But they can’t just stop you from working. It wasn’t your fault.’

  ‘Technically they haven’t stopped me from working. They asked me to take a holiday.’

  ‘You didn’t have a choice though, did you?’

  ‘Probably not, no.’

  She shook her head again, her mind seemingly taken away, at least momentarily, from her concerns about Natalie’s whereabouts. ‘It’s so unfair.’

  ‘It’s process,’ he said, dismissing the topic. ‘I’ve learnt not to let things like this worry me unduly. Anyway, it’s given me an opportunity to spend a day with you.’

  Amy suddenly had a thought.

  ‘When I called. You were on a train back home, weren’t you?’

  Cullen nodded.

  ‘You were going to travel up to Wigan with Mum…’

  ‘Seeing as I wasn’t wanted at work…’

  ‘And I stopped you, convinced you to turn back. And now Mum’s driving all the way up there on her own.’ She looked troubled again.

  ‘Amy, it’s fine. That was always the plan. If it hadn’t been for this morning…’

  ‘But it would have been such a good opportunity, for you two to…’

  ‘Your mum will be fine. I’m going up there at the weekend.’

  Finally, only partly satisfied, she nodded.

  ‘So, how about it? A day in the city, you and me?’

  ‘Okay,’ she smiled. ‘That would be lovely.’

  THEY HAD A GOOD DAY, heading over to Greenwich and enjoying the sunshine, and then lunching at a lovely bistro before taking a cruise back to Waterloo Bridge.

  Beswick called just as they were disembarking.

  ‘Hey, Boss, I have some news about the fellow who had an argument with that HGV this morning.’

  ‘Go on,’ Cullen said, stepping over the boat’s edge onto land.

  ‘It’s interesting.’

  Cullen moved away from the crowds, with Amy in tow. ‘So who is he then?’

  ‘Tyrone Banks.’

  ‘Should I know him?’

  ‘Not particularly. He’s not got any form with us. But the Met know a lot about him.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘Criminal gang member. Not a leader, but has form for GBH, drug-running, and various other charges – most didn’t stick because of suspected witness intimidation.’

  ‘That’s interesting.’ Cullen thought on this. The guy’s background could certainly explain why he had reacted the way he did. He would be primed for reacting quickly to the presence of the police.

  ‘So the bottom line is,’ Beswick continued, ‘you’ve probably done society a great favour this morning.’

  ‘I didn’t throw him under that truck,’ Cullen shot back defensively.

  ‘I know, Boss, I didn’t mean…’

  ‘It’s okay,’ Cullen conceded. ‘I know you didn’t.’

  ‘You’re worried about reprisals?’ Beswick said, reading the silence.

  ‘Maybe. Do you know what gang?’

  Amy shot him a concerned look.

  ‘The Craz-e Crew.’

  Cullen knew of them. Based out of North London, but with tentacles that stretched across the capital and beyond, they were a relatively new but fast-growing gang.

  ‘Maybe you should get out of London for the time being?’ Beswick suggested. ‘Go up to be with Sarah.’

  Cullen met Amy’s gaze. A thought had come to him. ‘Not a bad idea.’

  ‘You’ve got a week off. Take advantage of it,’ Beswick continued. ‘I’ll keep you updated on progress. The Super isn’t talking, of course, but you’ve got a lot of friends who are more than happy to pass across information.’

  ‘That’s good. I appreciate it.’

  Cullen ended the call, deciding on his course of action. He wasn’t going to risk worrying Amy with the news, but he wouldn’t need to.

  ‘Amy. You’re still suspicious of Jack Morton?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘How would you like me to pay him a visit?’

  10

  ‘Tell me about Jack,’ Paul Cullen said across the table to Amy as the train they had boarded forty minutes ago sped across the countryside towards Bristol.

  ‘He’s a researcher at the university.’

  Cullen was a little surprised. ‘It’s okay to date students, then?’

  ‘It happens,’ she replied. ‘I know a couple of students who have dated staff.’

  Cullen shook his head. ‘I thought all that died out in the seventies.’

  Amy smiled. ‘None of the relationships involving staff and students have lasted long, or ended well.’

  ‘I bet. So, this Jack. He’s of course quite a bit older than you and Natalie?’

  ‘A few years. He’s in his mid-twenties. Twenty-five, I think Natalie said once.’

  ‘How did they get together? Please tell me he wasn’t her teacher.’

  ‘No, no. Natalie’s doing marketing. They met during Freshers’ week at one of the student club nights in town.’

  ‘Were you there that night, when she met Jack?’

  ‘Yes, there were four of us; we’d met in Hall.’

  ‘And Jack. Was he there with friends?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘So Jack was cruising around Freshers’ events looking for girls.’

  Amy hadn’t quite thought of it like that before. ‘Well, yes, I guess maybe he was. It sounds quite predatory, when you put it like that.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Cullen thought on something. ‘Does Jack have a history of dating students?’

  ‘I… I don’t know. Natalie never told me anything like that. But I don’t suppose Jack would volunteer that kind of information, would he?’

  ‘No.’

  Amy stared out of the window. ‘You know, ever since I really started getting better, I was so scared about the anxiety returning.’ She turned to look at her dad. ‘But at this moment, I really hope that my anxiety is the explanation, and that Natalie is somewhere safe with friends.’

  Cullen longed to hug his daughter, the way he had done when she was five, soothing her after a fall. Instead he just touched her arm briefly across the table. ‘This morning, you said that you’d never really taken to Jack. Tell me more about why that was the case.’

  ‘I think once you meet him, you’ll understand,’ she replied. ‘Let’s say actions will speak louder than words.’

  THEY CAUGHT a bus from outside Bristol Temple Meads’ impressive station entrance.

  The time was just gone six.

  ‘So we’re just going to turn up at his place?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Never underestimate the element of surprise,’ Cullen replied. ‘Sometimes it’s the most effective weapon.’

  ‘He should be back from university by now,’ Amy confirmed. ‘Natalie was always going over to his place around this time of day.’

  ‘Good. Let’s hope he’s kept the same habits.’

  The bus pushed through the city-centre rush-hour traffic and roadworks. Bristol was a vibrant city under a significant amount of redevelopment, signified not only by the works on the road but also by the numerous cranes adorning its skyline. Cullen didn’t know the city particularly well – work rarely took him across to this part of the world – although his awareness of it was better since Amy had started university there.

  ‘If we get off here,’ Amy directed, ‘it’s just a couple of minutes up the road.’

  As they approached Jack’s place, Amy filled Cullen in.

  ‘Jack lives in a converted warehouse. I’ve been there once. It’s pretty cool. Must be worth a fortune. But he just rents.’

  They turned right and then left up side roa
ds. Still within sound and smell of the city centre, Amy stopped.

  ‘There it is, just on the right.’

  The place was in a row of similar industrial unit conversions. It had a front door but no windows, with a shutter-style wall covering the rest of the low-level property.

  ‘Interesting place. C’mon, then, let’s see what Jack has to say about himself.’

  Cullen strode up to the door and pressed the bell.

  No answer.

  He pressed again, and this time added a firm knock.

  There were sounds. Activity behind the door.

  Another knock.

  And then the door opened.

  Jack held the door partly open. He looked at Cullen, wary, before spotting Amy.

  ‘Can I help you?’ he asked, still keeping the door half-closed. He was wearing a comfy t-shirt and joggers. His short but trendily messy hair was so blond that it was almost white, and he looked younger than mid- to late twenties. It was clear that he could blend in, even at Freshers’ events.

  Cullen had considered how to play this, given that he wasn’t on official police duty. But there was a fine line between abusing his position and simply stating his job title, and he was more than willing to walk it.

  ‘Detective Chief Inspector Paul Cullen,’ he said, producing his ID card. ‘I was hoping to have a quick chat about Natalie Long.’

  ‘Why? Has something happened to her?’ His shock looked slightly forced, but it was sometimes difficult to read these things until you got a real sense of the person you were dealing with – their mannerisms, ticks, the micro-expressions that could give away so much more than you would ever believe.

  ‘Is it possible to have a quick chat?’ he repeated.

  Jack thought for a second. ‘Yes, sure, please do come in, Detective.’

  They followed him through the open-plan living-room space into the adjoining kitchen. Cullen noticed the staircase on the right, which had to lead to the bedroom.

  ‘Do take a seat,’ Jack said, gesturing to the wooden table and chairs.

  Cullen pulled up a chair. ‘Nice place you’ve got here.’

  Out back a set of patio doors looked out onto a small but pleasant garden area. The feature flooded the place with light, compensating for the absence of front windows. It was an ingenious design, making the most of what was actually very small square footage.