by Wyer, Carol
‘Who was the card for?’ Natalie asked.
‘Why do you want to know that?’
‘So that I can speak to that person and ensure the card is postmarked for yesterday evening when it would have left Watfield.’
‘Oh, sure. My nan. She lives on the Isle of Wight.’
‘You grandmother?’ Murray sneered.
‘Yes, my nan. She’s ninety-five tomorrow.’ Anthony tugged at his dressing-gown cord, looking defensive.
There was no evidence of anyone else in the tiny flat but Natalie asked Murray to look around all the same. Anthony began to protest then changed his mind.
Natalie kept up her line of questioning. She held the photograph of Harriet up in front of his eyes. ‘You recognise her at all, Anthony?’
He screwed up his eyes and peered at the picture. ‘Can’t say I do.’
‘You might have seen her hanging around with some of the Watfield Secondary kids.’
‘No.’ He shook his head and released a bored sigh that annoyed Natalie.
‘Anthony, you don’t have a concrete alibi for Monday when Savannah disappeared and now you’re implicated in this girl’s disappearance by virtue of the fact you were walking right behind her in Watfield.’
‘I told you where I was on Monday. And I don’t know this girl,’ he said, stabbing at the picture with his fingertip.
‘Does her name, Harriet Long, mean anything to you?’
‘Never heard of her.’ He folded his arms and stared at his bare feet.
Murray reappeared. Harriet wasn’t in the flat. Natalie could take the man to the station but she had no reason to charge him. It was a dead end for now. A sudden wave of tiredness washed over her, reminding her she hadn’t slept for twenty-one hours. She fought the urge to yawn and told Anthony she’d be back if they had any further questions.
‘If you keep hassling me, I’m seriously going to complain to your superiors. And I’ll have something to say about your officer too. He’s a bully,’ he said.
Murray snorted in disdain.
‘Complain if you feel you’ve been treated unjustly,’ Natalie replied. She had no energy left to argue. She stomped back to the Jeep and dropped into the passenger seat. The wine she’d drunk with David was leaving her mouth dry and her head aching. She released a heavy sigh. ‘Sodding heck. It’s too early in the morning to come up against dead ends and argumentative witnesses. I almost dragged him to the station because he was pissing me off. Stop off at the drive-through at Costa, will you, on the way to the station? I desperately need some caffeine and I suggest you nip home and get some rest for a couple of hours after you drop me off at the station.’ She rummaged in her bag for some mints or gum to freshen her mouth, and as she did so, her phone buzzed. She lifted it to her ear.
Lucy was on the line. ‘DI Graham Kilburn’s been in touch to say they’ve got a full search party out in Bramshall, extending into the woodland, and he’s alerted the media. He’s appealed for anyone who saw Harriet to come forward. It’ll be going out on the local news channels next bulletin. One other thing. I think I’ve spotted her on a camera close to the phone shop where Nick “Duffy” Duffield works. I’m just trying to get a clearer image to make sure it’s her. I told DI Kilburn of my findings.’
‘Cheers, Lucy. I’m on my way back now.’
It was 5.10 a.m. when Natalie, armed with takeaway coffees and two muffins, arrived back at the office. She shoved a cup and bag in Lucy’s direction. ‘White, no sugar and I think the muffin is cherry,’ she said, sitting down next to her colleague and delicately picking the paper from the sticky sponge. She pulled off a large piece and stuffed it into her mouth. It was deliciously sweet, undoubtedly laden with sugar that she ought not to eat given her slightly spreading waistline, but at this time of the day she needed all the calories and sugar rush she could muster. Lucy muttered thanks and took a quick slurp of her drink. She’d blown up the image she’d captured from one of the cameras and was trying to get a clearer image. She turned the screen in Natalie’s direction.
‘This is the original CCTV footage taken outside WHSmith. Look, there’s a woman pushing a buggy, but if you examine it more closely you can see she’s shielding another person walking in the same direction, right beside her, almost like her shadow. If you look carefully, you can see a person’s leg and they’re wearing a black boot. If you study the enhanced image you can also make out a shape which I’m certain is a red backpack. I think that’s Harriet.’
Natalie checked the time clock in the corner of the image: 4.50 p.m. ‘What time did she get off the bus?’
‘Half past four.’
Natalie waved her half-eaten muffin as she spoke. ‘It took her twenty minutes to reach that point. That seems a long time. It’s only a five-minute stroll from the bus stop to WHSmith. She must have stopped somewhere along the street – most likely at a shop.’
‘Those were my thoughts so I made a list of the shops along that route, and that’s when I came across the phone shop. Another coincidence?’
‘You know my thoughts on that subject. We’ll talk to Duffy again.’ She finished the muffin and wiped crumbs from her hands on her thighs. ‘Nothing from Ian?’
Lucy glanced up. ‘He might be with Scarlett. He let slip something yesterday but you know how cagey he is over his personal life.’ Scarlett was Ian’s ex-girlfriend and mother to his baby although she’d left him shortly after the baby had been born.
Natalie knew that private lives needed to be protected and Ian’s was no exception. After being almost fatally stabbed during an investigation only a few weeks earlier, it seemed that Scarlett had reappeared on the scene, but none of them knew if it was permanent. It was really difficult to juggle two worlds, especially with the horrendous hours they sometimes kept.
‘We’ll check with all the shop-owners but we’ll start with Duffy at the phone shop.’ She yawned and stretched. A shower would help her regain focus. She could take one at the station or nip home and get changed. She opted for the latter. She’d feel better if she had on fresh clothes. ‘I’ll talk to DI Kilburn and then I’m going home to grab a shower.’
‘I wouldn’t mind getting a couple hours’ sleep. I’ll be back for eight,’ said Lucy.
‘No problem. Murray will be back on duty soon and MisPer are searching for Harriet.’
* * *
Emily Rowley peered at her mobile screen. She’d been chatting to friends all night about Harriet in WhatsApp groups. There was a real buzz as they gossiped about her and tried to guess her whereabouts. Emily knew Harriet better than most. Harriet was an out-and-out attention-seeker. She’d try out all sorts of nutty stuff to prove she was the daughter of a hardened criminal – somebody who could take on anything – and she certainly had everyone’s attention now.
If she was honest, Emily was a little in awe of her friend who didn’t care for rules and regulations and would deliberately flout them whenever possible. Then there were the challenges she’d recently become interested in. It had started with the Ice Bucket Challenge, when she’d got Emily to tip ice-cold water over her as she stood in a bikini, then posted the video on Facebook. That had been fun but then she’d tried out other dares, some of which Emily thought were a bit too stupid like the car-surfing dare and the horrible choke dare. She’d asked Emily to do that one with her, but Emily had refused so Harriet had done it alone with a makeshift noose to cut off oxygen and filmed herself. She knew no fear.
Emily had a good idea of what her friend was up to. They’d talked about it and she knew by the light in her eyes that Harriet was keen to give it a go. If Emily was correct, Harriet was in hiding somewhere and would stay out of sight for the next two or three days. Harriet was doing the Disappear dare.
Emily hadn’t slept all night, torn between telling the police what she suspected and keeping her bestie’s confidence. Harriet would hate her for ruining the dare and might not forgive her for telling everyone. Then there was the possibility that Harriet might actual
ly be in danger. If she told the police she was hiding because of a dare, they might not hunt for her. Emily sighed heavily and logged onto the Disappear website yet again. She’d tried it throughout the night and seen nothing. If Harriet was going through with the challenge, she’d be sure to leave a video on the site. If she did, at least Emily would know she was in hiding and not in danger.
She clicked onto the participants’ page and found a new video had been uploaded. She pressed play. It wasn’t the grinning face of a boy or girl, whispering about how they were at a secret location, and it wasn’t her friend. There were no images, only darkness, but it took her breath away. Somebody was bashing against a door. They were screaming to be released and it was a voice she recognised immediately: Harriet’s. She watched it through again. Harriet was crying and yelling and sounded petrified. What should she do? It was only six o’clock in the morning and her mum would be asleep. She’d be mad that Emily had been online at this time of the morning but she ought to tell somebody. She thought about her other friends who might be online. She could tell them and ask their advice. No, this was serious. She had to tell the police who were searching for Harriet. Harriet was in trouble and Emily had to help her friend. Without further thought, she swung her legs out of her bed. She scurried out of her bedroom and knocked on her mother’s door.
* * *
Natalie tiptoed around the bedroom silently. She was accustomed to searching for things in the dark on the many occasions she’d been called out on a case at some ungodly hour. The nightlight plugged into a socket in the hallway cast sufficient light for her to retrieve a blouse and underwear and make her way to the en-suite bathroom that David used more often than her. This morning, a shower rather than a soak in the bath was in order, and if she only put it on half power, she was unlikely to disturb her husband. Not much penetrated David’s slumber. Natalie envied him his ability to drop off at whim and not rouse until the alarm woke him. She’d been suffering bad bouts of insomnia that she’d initially put down to the stressful nature of her job but now seemed to be part of some physical change in her body.
In the bathroom, she peeled off the clothes she’d worn since the morning before. The trip to school and sitting in traffic with other parents seemed a lifetime ago. It was such normality that she missed. Since being made DI and transferring to Samford, there’d been much less time for her family. She’d asked Kyle if he’d texted Harriet to see how she was getting on with her science project, yet she rarely managed to message her own daughter and son. She ought to make more time. She consoled herself with the knowledge that David was always around for them. They never came home to an empty house. David would make sure they ate at the right time and did their homework and didn’t get into difficulties when she wasn’t about.
Warm water trickled over her shoulders, and as she soaped herself she sighed. She’d begun to pile on the weight. Irregular hours and a crap diet, usually from the snack machine at work, were taking their toll. It was something else she needed to address. Over the last year she’d put on almost a stone. She certainly wasn’t the same woman who’d had a fling with Mike Sullivan. That woman had suddenly become middle-aged and out of shape.
She was towelling herself dry when her phone buzzed, and she was taken aback to hear Graham’s voice. She held her breath. Were they too late?
‘Something important has come to light and you need to see it immediately. Can I email it to you? It’s a clip from a website called Disappear. Harriet’s friend Emily spotted it and told her mother, who alerted us. I’ll stay on the line.’
‘Spotted it?’
‘She had an idea Harriet was doing the Disappear challenge – where you vanish for a few days, for no apparent reason other than to scare your family – and monitored the website for any videos posted. She found it at about six this morning.’
Natalie gave him her email address and waited for the email to arrive. She opened it and clicked through to the website and the video that had been posted. It was pitch-black and nothing could be clearly made out, but it soon became apparent it was a video of a girl trapped and banging on a door, screaming to be released. It lasted twenty seconds but those twenty seconds chilled Natalie to her marrow.
Graham’s voice was quiet and brought her back to the here and now. ‘You watched it?’
‘Is it…?’
‘Emily says it’s definitely Harriet’s voice.’
‘Did she know Harriet intended disappearing?’
‘It appears so.’
‘And she said nothing to you!’ Natalie was perplexed.
‘She wasn’t sure. They’d only talked about it. She claims she didn’t know Harriet had actually gone through with it.’
Natalie bit her tongue. The girl had been loyal to her friend, and for all sorts of reasons, known only to her, she had kept quiet. It was no good getting angry about her lack of cooperation. At least she’d alerted them now and they knew Harriet was trapped somewhere. At least, that’s what Natalie hoped because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
‘How did they come across the website?’
‘Social media. Harriet was into social media challenges and heard about it. She showed Emily the website. What do you reckon about the video? Think she really is in trouble or messing about?’ Graham asked.
‘She might have had an accomplice film her and be playacting, but there appears to be genuine fear in her cries. We can’t afford to treat it as a prank video, not given the similarities between her disappearance and Savannah’s.’
‘The video doesn’t give us much to go on but I’ve upped the level to high priority and we’re conducting air and land searches in the vicinity.’
‘We’ll look into this website, Disappear, and find out what time the video was uploaded and who uploaded it. See if we can pinpoint their location. I’d like to talk to Emily as soon as we’ve done that and I’ve updated my team.’
‘I’ll request she stays at home until you’ve spoken to her.’
‘Thanks. I’ll keep in touch.’
Natalie grabbed her clothes and dressed quickly. She couldn’t calm the hammering in her chest. Was the video a fake? She hoped it was. She hoped Harriet was carrying out some ridiculous challenge and was safe. Because if she wasn’t, then Natalie could only assume the killer had filmed the girl.
Fourteen
Wednesday, 18 April – Morning
Natalie clattered into the office, phone pressed to her ear as she spoke. ‘Is that all you can tell me? This is a matter of some urgency,’ she hissed angrily at the negative response and slammed the phone onto her desk. All she’d learnt was that the Disappear website was located in Germany and there was lengthy protocol to follow to be able to confirm who ran it and who had uploaded the video of Harriet. A couple of weeks ago, she’d have been able to involve their technical department at HQ and persuade them to prioritise it, but there’d been a huge shake-up and now all such matters were handled elsewhere in Staffordshire, at a brand-new special IT centre of excellence, set up in partnership with a high-tech aerospace engineering company. It employed a vast number of staff – technicians and digital forensic officers – all highly trained and extremely busy. Natalie wanted results rapidly. Mike had worked closely with the technical team before they’d been rehoused; he’d know who the best person would be to ask. Mike was well-respected and might even pull strings to help get the information quickly. She dialled his number.
‘Hey! You’re up with the larks.’ His voice was thick with sleep.
‘Not been to bed. Another teenage girl from the Watfield area has gone missing, and a video of her trapped somewhere has appeared on a website called Disappear. It seems to be located in Germany and I can’t find out who is behind it or who uploaded the video. I’m going to ask the IT centre for assistance but you know the guys there better than me. Who would you recommend for such matters?’
‘You need Bart Kingsley. He’s a website genius. Try him.’
‘I don’t suppo
se you could ask him for me?’
‘Sure. I’ll get onto it immediately. Email me the website details and I’ll see what I can sort out for you.’
‘Thanks, Mike. Appreciate it.’
‘No problem. I need to get up and get to the lab. We’re still trawling through all the evidence we amassed at the park. Another missing teenager, eh? That doesn’t sound good at all. I hope this isn’t related to the Savannah Hopkins investigation. Who is she?’
‘Harriet Long. I don’t think she knew Savannah. We were trying to track her down because she was apparently with one of our suspects on Monday afternoon. We wanted to get confirmation of that but she vanished before we could speak to her.’
She heard Mike suck in his breath. ‘So it is related. I hope you find her, Nat.’
Only two people ever called her Nat – one was David, and Mike the other.
‘MisPer are on it but I have a truly horrible feeling about this, Mike.’
There was a pause. Mike knew about some of her past cases involving teenagers and children, and how badly a couple had ended. After one particularly awful investigation, involving teenage girls who were found strangled, their bodies strewn with petals, Natalie had undergone a course of therapy and still had nightmares over it. Although David had been by her side at home, Mike, being in the same profession, truly understood the panic she experienced every time she was assigned a similar investigation and comprehended how desperate she became to resolve it before it reached a grisly end.
‘One step at a time, Nat. You’ll find her.’ His words had the desired effect.
She forced herself to inhale slowly. The office door opened and Ian appeared.
‘Thanks, Mike. Catch you later.’ She terminated the call.
For somebody who’d had a night’s sleep, Ian looked worse than she felt. He began with an apology. ‘I didn’t get your message until my alarm went off. I took some painkillers as soon as I got in and they wiped me out. Sorry, Natalie.’