Baby Lies (Reissue)

by Chris Collett

  ‘She took her in the car seat?’

  ‘Yes, most of them do,’ Samantha said. ‘We don’t have many babies whose parents live close enough to walk. They bring them in the seat in the morning and it stays here with them.’

  ‘What colour was the seat?’

  ‘It was dark blue, with a sort of checked pattern. The woman said that it was heavy and that she’d got to walk a long way.’

  ‘Do you think she would have parked round the corner, in the cul-de-sac, like we have?’ Mariner thought hopefully of the CCTV.

  ‘Either that, or she might have left her car up in the hospital car park,’ Samantha said. ‘They’re not really meant to, but some parents do that if there’s no space here.’

  So they’d need to get hold of any CCTV footage on the hospital site, as well as anything from the local streets. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘She thanked us for looking after Jessica so well. It was a bit over the top really. She seemed sort of relieved. I thought maybe it was the first time she’d left her with anyone.’

  Knox looked up from his notepad. ‘Is it the case with all the crèche children that the staff might not have met the parents?’ he asked Samantha.

  ‘Not all of them,’ she said. ‘Christie would know parents who leave their children for more than one day, and sometimes parents do the drop-off later in the morning, when all the staff are here.’

  Knox caught Mariner’s eye. ‘So if this woman had approached a different baby — Ellie, for example — you would have known that it wasn’t her baby?’

  ‘No, we don’t know her parents either.’

  ‘But at the time the woman came into the room, Jessica was the only unattended baby . . .’ said Mariner. So there was no way of telling whether this was a random snatch or if Jessica had been targeted.

  ‘Thanks, Leanne, you’ve been a great help.’ Mariner lied. He motioned Tony Knox to one side of the room.

  ‘I’ll have a quick word with Miss O’Brien then I need to see what progress Charlie Glover is making with the rest of the staff,’ he told Knox. ‘Find out from him if anyone else encountered this woman entering or leaving the nursery at around two thirty. Let’s hope to God that they did and we can get a half-decent description, otherwise we’re fucked. We can’t hit the streets until we’ve got it sharpened up or we’ll be bringing in just about every woman in south Birmingham. Let the team covering the CCTV footage know that, at the moment, we’re looking for any woman in the area carrying a baby in a car seat around two thirty this afternoon, possibly, though not necessarily, walking up to the hospital site, maybe behaving strangely.’

  Out in the hall it was chaos. PC Mann was trying to take details from the remaining parents, but there was a backlog and a queue had formed — around which the unoccupied children were running and squealing.

  ‘Leopold, do stop!’ shrieked one of the mothers in desperation. She wore a hospital name badge and was presumably on her way home from work.

  ‘Please tell me that isn’t really that child’s name,’ Mariner murmured.

  ‘You’d be amazed,’ Samantha said.

  Leaving the mayhem temporarily behind, Mariner climbed the stairs to the first floor and found his way to the staff room. Pushing open the door, Emma O’Brien’s anxiety ridden eyes turned on him immediately, with a desperation Mariner had seen etched on many faces over the years, and which today he could do little to alleviate. He’d have liked to reassure her with what they knew, but in this case it wasn’t much. Someone had made her a hot drink and she was clutching the mug like a prop, but it remained full almost to the brim, an oily skin forming on the surface.

  Mariner sat down on one of the low seats facing her. ‘What we know is that at around half past two this afternoon a woman came into the nursery and took Jessica as if she was her child.’

  Emma O’Brien let out an involuntary moan.

  ‘It may not sound like it, but it’s good news,’ Mariner said, quickly. ‘Because once we’ve firmed up the description we will know, to some extent, who we’re looking for. We also have at least one eyewitness who should be able to recognise her.’ He wouldn’t tell her yet that what they had so far was less than useless or that, without some clue about the woman’s motive, they were pissing into the wind. ‘The woman also cared enough about Jessica to ask about when she’d been fed and changed — so she is concerned about your daughter’s wellbeing. What I want to do next is release information to the press so that we can enlist the help of the public,’ he went on, gently. ‘Do you have a recent photograph of Jessica?’

  Like any proud new parent, Emma O’Brien carried several in her bag. Her hands shook and her eyes dripped as she fumbled for them. Mariner isolated the one that presented the clearest shot of blonde, blue-eyed Jessica, then went back out into the corridor and gave it to Knox.

  ‘She’s a cracker, isn’t she?’ said Knox, taking the snapshot from him. It was true; she was a beautiful child. Even Mariner had noticed that much. Had it been what had attracted the woman to her?

  ‘Stupid question, I know,’ said Mariner. ‘But do you think there’s any way this can have been a simple mistake?’

  But Knox shook his head, echoing Leanne’s words. ‘Any mother knows her child from day one.’

  Mariner sighed. ‘Okay. Fax it through to the OCU along with the description of the woman and get it released to the press along with the time and location. We particularly want to hear from anyone who might have been on or around the hospital site at around two thirty this afternoon — especially anyone who happened to be driving past here. That includes bus drivers. It’s a busy road and we’re hours too late, but you never know. We need to know if anyone else saw this woman entering or leaving the nursery. I want a couple of officers to stop any vehicles leaving the hospital site and uniform can start a house-to-house along this street and in the immediate vicinity. There’s building work going on at the hospital, too. Make sure somebody talks to the workmen. They’re the sort of people who might just have noticed this woman.’

  ‘What about a press conference?’

  ‘We haven’t got enough for that yet,’ said Mariner. ‘But call the press office and have them on standby, with a view to getting something out for the late evening news. We’ll set up the incident room at Granville Lane. There’s nothing big enough here.’ Mariner glanced at his watch. ‘The gaffer should be out of her meeting at Lloyd House by now, too. See if you can raise her.’ And ruin whatever plans she might have had for the weekend, too.

  ‘She’ll be thrilled,’ said Knox, though they’d no way of knowing what DCI Sharp’s reaction might be. So far they knew her career history: a top-level Hendon graduate who’d worked her way rapidly through the ranks and covered ground too. She’d had four years in Manchester, five in West Mercia, seven with the Met. She knew both city and rural forces. But her personal life was a closed book. Mariner had a vague impression of someone at home, but that was it. It was something they’d never talked about. Suddenly Mariner remembered his own weekend commitment. He’d meant to call Anna back, but hadn’t got round to it. ‘Shit! I should let Anna know what’s going on too,’ he said, thinking aloud. ‘I’m meant to be on annual leave from tonight. When I spoke to her an hour ago I pretty much told her I was on my way. But I can’t get into it all now.’

  It was left for Knox to say: ‘You want me to call her?’

  ‘It’ll be simpler coming from someone else.’ It was pragmatic, Mariner told himself. It had a better ring to it than cowardice. ‘Tell her I’ll speak to her as soon as I can.’

  ‘Sure.’ Knox went outside to make the call.

  ‘Where the hell—?’ Anna launched in, when the line connected.

  ‘Anna it’s me,’ Knox interrupted. ‘Tony. I’m sorry. Something’s come up that the boss has got to deal with, something urgent.’

  ‘Like what?’ Her voice was shot through with suspicion.

  It was the last thing she’d want to hear. ‘It’s a missing baby,’ he
said. ‘If you switch on the news in a bit, you’ll see.’

  ‘How long will he be?’

  ‘I don’t know. As long as it takes.’

  ‘I’ll get the luggage out of the car then.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What about next week?’

  ‘I really don’t know, luv. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Yeah, you and me both.’

  Afterwards Knox made a mental note never to do the boss’s dirty work again.

  * * *

  Mariner had returned to Emma O’Brien. ‘Have you been able to let your husband know?’ he asked.

  ‘My partner,’ she corrected him again. It seemed to be a sensitive issue. ‘He’s on his way here.’

  ‘From?’

  ‘Cambridge. It’s where we live and where Peter works.’

  ‘You’re a long way from home,’ Mariner observed.

  ‘I was guest speaker at a conference today at the hospital. I’m something of a specialist in my field.’

  ‘What field is that?’

  ‘Sorry? Oh, sleep disorders,’ she said, absently. ‘I was honouring an arrangement I made last year to do a guest lecture on the course here. Jess was a bit of a surprise when she came along. I’ve given up my job but I didn’t feel that I could let down the hospital.’ She gave an apologetic smile. ‘The money was good, too.’

  ‘So you drove over here today?’

  ‘No, we came over last night and stayed with friends in Knowle. A hotel would have been an unnecessary expense.’

  ‘And today was the first time you’ve been to the nursery?’ asked Mariner.

  ‘No, there was a meeting for all the speakers about a month ago. I came to have a look round and met Mrs Barratt. Originally I was going to ask my parents to look after Jess, but it would have meant an extra journey over to Suffolk and back, and the hospital sent information about the crèche service, offered free. It seemed much more convenient.’ A sob escaped her. ‘Oh, God. It’s the first time I’ve ever left her with anyone except Peter or my mother. Why did I ever think—?’ Her composure crumbled and Mariner allowed her a few seconds to regroup. Millie passed a fresh box of tissues.

  ‘So you dropped Jessica off at what time this morning?’ Mariner asked after a respectable pause.

  ‘About twenty past eight. The lecture wasn’t until ten, but our friends suggested I come in early to beat the traffic. It gave me plenty of time to do last-minute preparation, too.’

  ‘And you handed Jessica over to Mrs Barratt.’

  ‘That’s right.’ She frowned. ‘Where is Mrs Barratt? I haven’t seen her this afternoon.’

  ‘We’re trying to locate her,’ Mariner said. ‘And you didn’t notice anything unusual, anyone hanging about, watching or following you?’

  ‘No, though I wasn’t really looking of course.’

  ‘Is there any chance that someone else could have collected Jessica for you, one of your friends perhaps?’

  ‘No. No one else knew exactly where the nursery was. And why would they do that without speaking to me?’

  ‘We just have to cover every possibility,’ Mariner explained. ‘One of the things I need to ask you to do is come up with a list of all the people who knew, or might have known, you were coming here today, including the friends you stayed with last night.’

  She looked alarmed. ‘Are you suggesting this could be someone we know? That’s ludicrous.’

  There was a knock on the door. It was Tony Knox. ‘Can I have a word, boss?’

  ‘I know, it’s unlikely,’ Mariner said to Emma O’Brien, getting to his feet. ‘But we have to explore all the options. Would you excuse me? If anything develops I’ll keep you informed.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I think we’ve got a description,’ said Tony Knox, outside on the landing. ‘Charlie Glover’s found a girl who saw the woman when she first arrived.’

  ‘Thank Christ for that.’

  Charlie Glover had found interviewing the staff a frustrating and tedious business. ‘The most any of them can remember is buzzing from the rooms to let several people in during the afternoon, but none of them can remember specific times or what was said,’ he grumbled as they descended the stairs. ‘Except Christie.’

  ‘The girl who went from the crèche to the room upstairs,’ Knox reminded him.

  Glover took them down the landing to what was normally some kind of storage space, where Glover had cleared enough room for a couple of chairs to conduct his makeshift interviews. ‘This is Christie,’ he said. ‘She met a woman in the hallway at about the right time.’ Glover looked at the girl. ‘Tell Inspector Mariner what you told me.’

  Christie’s colour rose as she spoke, but not enough to hide the dark red shadow, like a birthmark, that ran down the side of her face partially, but not fully, concealed by makeup. ‘I was up in pre-school but had popped down to the office for some craft paper,’ she said. ‘I was on my way back up the stairs,’ she said, ‘when the woman was buzzed in.’

  ‘Do you know who let her in?’

  ‘No. It must have been one of the upstairs rooms. She was sort of hovering in the hallway and looked a bit uncertain of herself and I didn’t recognise her, so I asked if I could help. She said she’d come for her baby, then she asked if Mrs Barratt was here, but I said no, I didn’t think so. I asked her if everything was all right and she sort of hesitated, so I asked if her baby was in the crèche, because those are the mums who never remember where to go, and she said yes, so I reminded her where it was, and she went along there.’

  ‘Were those the exact words: “I’ve come for my baby?”’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure. I didn’t quite catch it at first. She had an accent.’

  ‘What kind of accent?’

  ‘From up north, like Deidre.’

  ‘Deidre?’

  ‘Off Coronation Street.’ She was distraught. ‘I thought I was helping.’

  ‘Of course you did. You had no way of knowing what was happening.’

  ‘But now I think about it, she seemed sort of anxious and a bit out of breath. I thought maybe she was in a hurry because she’d left her car on the double yellows outside. People do that all the time.’

  ‘Okay, so you rationalised her behaviour. There’s nothing wrong with that. She must have known Mrs Barratt,’ Mariner said. ‘She asked for her by name.’

  ‘Except that Mrs Barratt’s picture is on the notice board in the hall, right where she was standing,’ Christie reminded him. ‘She’d have seen it.’ What a contrast, Mariner thought. If Christie had been in the room with Jessica, she might never have been taken.

  ‘Perhaps she was just checking that there was no manager on the premises,’ offered Knox.

  ‘And you got a good look at the woman?’ Mariner said.

  ‘Yes.’

  Thank God for that. ‘Okay, off you go.’ He held his breath.

  ‘She was white, about the same height as me — sort of average — and slim with a good figure.’

  It was a promising start. ‘What about her hair?’ Mariner asked.

  ‘It was tied back, and it was brown, I think, quite a nice reddish brown colour.’

  Charlie Glover was checking his notebook for consistency with what she’d already told him.

  ‘And how old would you say she was?’

  Christie grimaced. ‘I’m not very good on ages.’

  ‘Was she your age — younger, older?’

  ‘Older than me, sort of middle-aged, I suppose. I don’t think she was wearing any makeup and sometimes that makes women look younger, doesn’t it?’

  ‘You’re doing brilliantly, Christie,’ Mariner could hardly contain his relief. ‘Do you remember what she was wearing?’

  ‘Trousers, I think.’

  ‘Trousers or jeans?’

  ‘No, definitely dark trousers and a nice top and jacket. She was quite smart, as if she’d been to work, like, in an office or something.’

  ‘What colour was the top?’

&
nbsp; ‘I couldn’t see much of it.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘But it was, like, a cream colour with some kind of pattern on, embroidery or sequins. It looked expensive, like cashmere or something. I remember thinking I quite liked it. And she had some kind of jewellery.’ Her hand went up to her throat. ‘She had a gold chain or something round her neck.’

  ‘And the jacket?’

  ‘It was dark, navy or black.’

  ‘Anything else, shoes, a bag?’

  ‘I don’t think I looked at her shoes. She was holding something in her hand, could have been car keys, I suppose.’ She stopped to think for a moment. ‘That’s all I can remember, there’s nothing else.’

  ‘That’s a great description, Christie, well done. Will you go to the police station and help us to put together a computer image of this woman?’

  ‘Take Christie straight to Granville Lane to meet with the e-fit team,’ he said to Knox. ‘The quicker we have an accurate image of this woman the better.’

  ‘Tony.’ As Knox was leaving, Mariner called him back. ‘You spoke to Anna? How did she take it?’

  ‘She was okay about it,’ said Knox. ‘Calm as you like.’

  But Mariner didn’t like the sound of that. He knew what she was thinking: I hope this isn’t going to happen when . . .

  She’d been so excited when she found out that she rang him at work, unable to contain herself. ‘You know all that crap they used to give us in sex education lessons about how babies are made?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Turns out they were right. I’m pregnant.’ He’d never known her so happy. It had happened so much sooner than either of them had imagined it would. Her euphoria had lasted a month to the day, until that morning when he’d awoken in the early hours to find the duvet turned back from ominous stains and Anna perched on the side of the bath sobbing uncontrollably.

  ‘It’s far more common than you might think,’ the doctor had reassured them, ‘and really nothing to worry about. Absolutely no reason why you can’t go on to have a healthy baby.’ But his words weren’t much comfort. Anna had wanted that baby. The experience had frightened her, too. Since then Anna had insisted that they do as the doctor suggested and wait a few weeks, and somehow the weeks had evolved into months and she remained reluctant. But then, it was she who had gone through all the physical and emotional turmoil and he could understand why she’d be afraid of it happening again. They hadn’t really had much opportunity to talk about it and Mariner was loath to raise the subject because he knew how much it upset her. Sometimes when he looked at her she seemed so tired, and a light had gone out behind her eyes that he so wanted to re-ignite.