Taken

by Lisa Stone

  ‘Come in. Good morning, Beth.’

  ‘Good morning, ma’am. I now have three witnesses – Mike Doherty, Jason O’Leary and Kevin Bates – who say they saw Leila Smith leave with a man we’ve identified as Colin Weaver on the night she went missing.’ The DCI rolled her eyes. ‘I know,’ Beth said. ‘They’re not the most reliable of witnesses, but Matt and I called at Colin Weaver’s flat yesterday evening and couldn’t get a reply. A neighbour said she hadn’t seen him for over a week. I’ve just spoken to HR at Sparks Electronics where Colin worked for seventeen years and he suddenly left without any notice, two days after Leila went missing. Then a formal letter of resignation arrived a couple of days later, not giving any explanation. The head of HR said it was completely out of character. I’d like permission to enter his flat.’

  It only took DCI Aileen Peters a moment to agree. ‘That would seem a sensible next step. Take someone with you with an enforcer in case you need to break in.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am.’

  Half an hour later Beth parked outside the block of flats where Colin and Kelsey lived, and waited for the patrol car to arrive. They were bringing the enforcer to open Colin’s front door if necessary. Beth wasn’t sure what she was expecting to find inside the flat. The worst-case scenario – the one she was dreading – would be to find Leila’s dead body, which was certainly possible. Colin’s sudden disappearance from work and home seemed to bear all the hallmarks of suicide. Yet Doris Goodman hadn’t identified the man she’d seen as Colin and indeed was now unclear if Leila had left the play area with a man at all. And as DCI Peters had indicated, you couldn’t get more unreliable and dubious witnesses than Bates, O’Leary and Doherty, so there was still a good chance they had concocted the story about Leila going off with Colin to cover their own backs.

  As Beth continued to stare through the windscreen, she saw the patrol car sweep into the road. With an acknowledging flash of its headlights, the car drew up and parked just in front of her. She got out and said hello to the officer who’d been driving – Ishaan Patel, who she knew. He introduced Lisa, the trainee he had with him, then took the enforcer from the boot.

  ‘Are we expecting to find a body?’ Lisa asked Beth.

  ‘It’s possible.’

  ‘It would be my first.’

  Beth nodded sympathetically and prayed it wasn’t Leila Smith’s. It was upsetting enough when you discovered your first decomposing corpse, without the added trauma of it being a child.

  Beth led the way into the block of flats, up the stairs to the third floor and to Colin Weaver’s flat. She pressed the bell and banged on the door. ‘Colin. Are you in there? It’s the police.’

  There was no reply.

  She stood aside and Ishaan raised the metal enforcer and aimed it at the door. It burst open on the second strike. ‘Colin? Are you in here?’ he called, going in first.

  Silence. But thankfully, Beth noted, there was no putrid smell of decomposing flesh. It would have hit them the moment the door opened if there’d been a body in here. The flat was cold and smelt musty from being shut up, but that was all.

  Beth made a preliminary search of the flat, going in and out of the rooms with Lisa following just behind, as Ishaan returned the enforcer to the car. Two bedrooms, a bathroom and a lounge with a small kitchen leading off it. It was the same layout as many of the other flats here, although Colin Weaver’s was much neater than most Beth had seen. Sparsely furnished with dated furniture, it was functional rather than homely, and didn’t contain the usual clutter of everyday living. It was a single person’s flat, and bland with all the walls painted off-white. There was no sign of a woman’s presence or of a child having been here. A grey two-seater sofa stood at one end of the living room with a reading lamp on a stalk angled over it. A large framed mock-antique world map was on one wall, with a bookcase below it. To the right stood a modest television and sound system. Beth’s gaze travelled to the small wooden coffee table next to the sofa. Going over, she picked up the sheet of folded paper that lay on top and opened it. Her eyes skimmed the handwritten lines and then she read the words out loud.

  To whom it may concern,

  By the time you find this I will be long gone. I’ve had enough of my life. Please inform Belsize Nursing Home. My mother is a patient there. She won’t understand I’m dead, but the staff need to know.

  Colin Weaver

  ‘That’s so sad,’ Lisa said.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Beth agreed. But not as sad as finding the body of a child, she thought.

  Ishaan returned briefly to say he and Lisa were needed elsewhere. ‘Are you OK here now?’

  ‘Yes. Thanks for your help,’ Beth replied. She was in the kitchen now, checking the cupboards. ‘Good luck in your job, Lisa.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Beth heard them close the broken front door behind them. She would need to phone the locksmith to get the flat secured before she left. Lisa had clearly been relieved not to find a dead body in here, as had Beth, but Colin’s suicide note had effectively brought an end to one of their main lines of inquiry. On the face of it, the reason he’d disappeared was because he’d gone somewhere and committed suicide. There was no evidence to suggest that any contact he may have had with Leila was anything other than altruistic – giving a neglected child gifts and shelter in the rain. If, of course, he’d been in the play area at all, which was still not certain.

  Except, Beth thought.

  She returned to the living room and reread the note. It was a coincidence that Colin had decided to commit suicide around the same time Leila had gone missing. Was it possible he had taken her, abused and killed her, and then committed suicide? In which case his flat would be a crime scene with valuable DNA evidence. Returning the note to the table, Beth took out her phone and called DCI Aileen Peters.

  TWENTY-THREE

  ‘I want Buttons,’ Leila said, rubbing her eyes as if she were about to cry again.

  ‘I know, you said!’ Colin snapped, irritated. ‘But it’s gone, for good, so amuse yourself. You’re getting on my nerves again.’

  He was trying to do a crossword in the book of puzzles he’d brought with him, but it was proving virtually impossible to concentrate with the child whinging and whining.

  ‘I want to watch another film, but there’s no battery left,’ Leila grumbled.

  ‘And whose fault is that?’ Colin asked, glancing up, annoyed.

  She pouted.

  ‘If you watch films all day, of course the battery on my laptop will run down quickly. You need to ration yourself.’

  ‘What does ration mean?’

  ‘Limit the time you use it, like I do with my phone.’ Although in truth he didn’t have much choice but to limit his phone usage as there was no bloody signal anywhere in the cottage. It was a mile or so up the lane before any signal reached his phone.

  He returned to his crossword and there was a few moments’ silence before Leila said again in that infuriating voice, ‘I want Buttons. I want to go home.’

  ‘Impossible,’ he snapped. ‘Your mother doesn’t want you and I can understand why.’

  He tried to ignore her, but it was difficult, and the longer it went on the more it grated. They’d been here two weeks now and it would be at least another two weeks before the fervour surrounding Leila’s disappearance had died down enough to make it safe for them to leave. Only then would he be able to start his new life. He felt like a prisoner in a cell, notching up the days till his release, or a castaway on a desert island. It was Wednesday, and he didn’t want to return to the shopping centre until Saturday when it would be busy. There’d been another appeal in the media with a picture of Leila and her teddy bear, so he was even more wary now of taking her out. The other towns were further away and much smaller. They were more likely to stand out there and be noticed. Even though her hair was short now and she didn’t have the bear, he dared not risk it. Also, there might not be a convenient place to recharge his laptop and phone. B
etter to wait and go to the shopping centre on Saturday when he knew for certain it would be full of families.

  He glanced at his watch. One o’clock. He had the rest of today and then all of Thursday and Friday before they could have another outing. Nearly three days with the kid bleating, going on and on. He wasn’t sure he could stand it. He was used to peace and quiet and his own space at home. Then he had an idea.

  ‘You used to spend a lot of time alone in your flat when your mother was out, didn’t you?’ he asked her.

  Leila nodded.

  ‘If I leave you here and go to the shopping centre to recharge the laptop so you can watch more films, will you promise to be good?’

  ‘I promise,’ she said enthusiastically. ‘Will you try to find Buttons?’

  ‘Yes.’ Although of course he wouldn’t. The bin in the shopping centre where he’d dumped the bear would have been emptied ages ago and the rubbish incinerated. ‘Remember, you mustn’t stand near the windows,’ he said, setting aside his puzzle book. ‘If anyone should come to the door, which is highly unlikely, you hide and stay quiet.’ In the two weeks they’d been here they hadn’t had any callers, although a couple of intrepid hikers had passed along the lane.

  ‘Will you bring me back some sweets and a McDonald’s?’ Leila asked.

  ‘Yes, if you promise to be good and do as you’re told.’

  ‘I will.’

  He managed a small smile, more for his own benefit than hers, pleased with himself for having hit upon this idea. He stood and, spurred on by the promise of time alone and a decent cup of coffee, began gathering together what he needed to take with him. Laptop, phone, chargers, wallet, keys, shopping list – they needed more groceries. He put on his coat and shoes as Leila watched him. He felt he might be getting the hang of this parenting lark – you bribed the child into doing what you wanted with the promise of sweets, films and McDonald’s. It was a lesson to be remembered for the future, he thought.

  With a final warning to Leila not to touch anything and to stay out of sight, Colin left the cottage, locking the door behind him. It was as dingy outside the cottage as it was inside. Here, on the edge of the moors, one murky day seemed to follow another, and at this time of year the sky never got properly light. They were going through batteries to power the lamp very quickly, so they were on his shopping list.

  As he thought might happen, his car didn’t like the damp weather either and the engine took a while to start before finally spluttering into life. Then he was off, bumping along Fern Lane, which eventually joined the main road that would take him into Marsborough.

  Try to concentrate on the positives, Colin told himself as he drove. A whole afternoon all to himself. It was a wonder he hadn’t thought of leaving her alone sooner. She was used to it at her mother’s and would probably enjoy the time away from him as much as he was going to enjoy being away from her. He could tell she didn’t like him anymore, but that didn’t matter. Now he’d had to look after her, he’d changed his views on parenting and believed children should be seen and not heard – and ideally not even seen. The Victorians had the right idea. Nanny raised the children and just brought them to their parents to say goodnight. If this afternoon was a success – and there was no reason why it shouldn’t – he’d go to the shopping centre alone tomorrow and every afternoon until they could leave that awful cottage for good.

  An hour later, having bought the provisions they needed and sweets for Leila, Colin sat at a table in the shopping centre with a coffee and slice of sponge cake, checking his emails as his laptop and phone charged. There was nothing of interest or concern in his inbox. Apart from a reminder about a standing order, the rest was junk mail, which rather proved to him how drab and unimportant his life had been. Until now. He still couldn’t believe how easily the plan to change his life forever had fallen into place. The future beckoned and life would be good.

  Having dealt with his inbox, Colin clicked the icon to access the Internet and began looking for any further updates on missing Leila Smith. He was pleased to find the media interest was finally waning. Since the last missing person’s appeal, the only new mention he could find was very short. Police are growing increasingly concerned for missing schoolgirl Leila Smith, who disappeared … etc. If anyone has any information, phone the number below or contact your local police station. Clearly the active search was being scaled down and he assumed that at some point it would stop.

  Suddenly he was aware of someone standing at his shoulder – far too close for comfort. He instinctively turned and looked up, straight into the face of a woman, not passing by but waiting to speak to him.

  ‘Yes?’ he asked cautiously, closing the lid on his laptop. She seemed slightly familiar. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘Sorry to trouble you but I’ve been sitting over there watching you. I’ve just realized who you are.’ Panic gripped him and his instinct was to run. Stay calm, he told himself, and his stomach clenched. ‘Did your little girl find her teddy bear?’ she asked.

  Colin stared at her. A buzzing sound filled his ears as he struggled to make sense of what she was saying.

  ‘You probably don’t remember me, but a while back I spoke to you as you were leaving the shopping centre with your daughter. She was very upset because she’d lost her teddy bear. I wondered if she’d found it.’

  ‘Oh,’ Colin said, finally understanding. ‘That was you. Yes, of course.’

  ‘Did she find her bear?’

  ‘She did,’ he replied, trying to keep his voice even and silence his racing heart.

  ‘Good, I am pleased.’ The woman smiled. ‘I remember she was so upset.’

  ‘Yes, she was,’ Colin said. But the woman didn’t immediately move away and seemed to want to talk.

  ‘Nice here, isn’t it?’ she said. ‘Especially with the Christmas decorations. I come here two or three times a week with my children and meet other mums and dads with pre-school children.’

  Colin nodded stiffly.

  ‘OK, sorry to have disturbed you,’ she said, finally realizing he didn’t want to talk. ‘I’ll leave you in peace now. I am pleased she found her bear.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Colin managed to say.

  The woman turned and walked away. He waited a few seconds and then tentatively glanced in the direction she’d gone. She was sitting with two other women at a table not far away, facing him. All three were looking at him and talking. He’d have to leave. The battery on his laptop was only half charged but he dared not stay now. There was a chance she’d seen one of the appeals on television. Supposing she eventually made the connection or one of her friends did?

  Trying to calm himself, Colin unplugged the chargers and dropped them, his laptop and phone into his briefcase, forcing himself not to appear too hurried. He stood, slipped on his coat and then, keeping his gaze away from the table where the women were, made his way out of the café area the long way round, so he didn’t have to pass their table.

  Bloody nosy cow, he silently fumed as he headed towards the exit. He’d have to find somewhere else to go now. She said she came here two or three times a week, so he’d be sure to bump into her again. And just when it was working out so well! But he consoled himself that at least this had happened when he’d been alone. If Leila had been with him, she could have so easily given them away.

  It was now three o’clock as he left the shopping centre and made his way to the car. Since he’d been inside, the mist had thickened into fog. He wasn’t going to drive around in this trying to find another coffee shop with charging points and Wi-Fi. He’d come back tomorrow, when hopefully the weather had improved and he could see more than a few yards.

  Getting into his car, he turned the ignition key and on the second go the engine spluttered into life. He pulled away, aware that not even the CCTV cameras could pick up detail in this fog. As he drove, he found the lights of the town helped with visibility for the first mile or so. But as soon as he left the town and the streetlamps, houses and sh
ops became fewer, it was increasingly difficult to see the road ahead. For a while he was able to follow the red tail lights of the car in front, but five miles on, as the road began winding its way across the moor, the fog thickened further still and then the car in front turned off.

  Visibility was now down to nil. Alone on an unfamiliar road and surrounded by a wall of fog, Colin slowed down to twenty miles per hour, then fifteen, but even that seemed too fast when he couldn’t see a damn thing. He was driving blind and it was frightening. For the first time in his life Colin wished he had a sat nav. He’d always been a map and sense-of-direction type of person, but now he’d have happily accepted a sat nav. He didn’t know where the hell he was or how far he had to go.

  He glanced at the mileage and guessed he had about six miles before he needed to turn into Fern Lane, but it really was a guess. The fog continued, blanketing the road and fields either side of him, then suddenly a car’s headlights appeared coming towards him. He dropped down to second gear and they crawled past each other. He saw the outline of the driver in the other car, and then he was alone again. He tried the car’s headlights on full beam, but the light reflected back off the fog, decreasing rather than increasing visibility. Hunched forward over the steering wheel, Colin peered through the windscreen, hoping something would seem familiar before long.

  Twenty minutes later, he knew he must have missed the turning to Fern Lane. Angry with himself, he drew to a halt, checked there were no other headlights coming in either direction and then began a three-point turn. It was a nightmare, not being able to see and trying to turn the car in a narrow lane, but then he was heading back in the direction he’d come.

  He flicked on the windscreen wipers to try to clear the screen, but they made little difference. He was now travelling at ten miles per hour. If he’d known the fog was going to be this bad, he would have booked into a bed and breakfast in Marsborough for the night. His heart leapt at the thought of a hot shower and a comfortable bed in a warm room instead of sleeping on the sofa in a damp cottage. Leila was locked in the cottage and would have been fine spending the night alone. She’d done it plenty of times when she’d lived with her mother.