by Wyer, Carol
He pushed himself into a seated position and rested his elbows on his knees. ‘I came home from work at five thirty and she was sat here, watching telly. I cooked dinner – pasta – and we ate it watching The Simpsons. Then after that, she went upstairs to her bedroom. I sat alone for a while and then I decided to go to the pub at quarter to eight.’
‘You left her alone in the house?’
‘She’s not a child,’ he retorted defensively.
‘She’s only fourteen.’
‘She doesn’t act like she’s fourteen some days,’ he replied. He placed a hand behind his neck and rubbed, his face screwed up as if in pain. ‘She doesn’t need watching over. It makes her worse.’
‘Worse in what way?’
‘Moody, argumentative – I can’t handle her tantrums. Ever since her mum passed on, she’s become hard work and there’s the whole growing-up thing that makes it more difficult. I can’t get through to her.’
‘DI Kilburn said you argued last night.’
‘That’s right. She wanted me to give her an advance on her pocket money and I refused because I hadn’t got enough money to shell out on extras, and she laid into me because I’ve been down the pub a couple of times this week. Made me feel a right shit. She needed it for personal hygiene stuff and said it was dead embarrassing having to discuss matters like that with me and how she wished her mum was still alive. I can’t tell you how rotten I felt. I gave her ten pounds but she was still angry. She said she hated me for making her move to Watfield and stormed off. I couldn’t stay in after that. I told her I was going out for a couple of hours and went down the pub. She had my number if she needed it.’
‘Was it usual to leave her alone?’ Lucy asked.
‘I’ve left her before. She’s usually busy online with her mates whether I’m there or not. She doesn’t need supervision. It’s really not been easy since her mum died. We both need space.’
Natalie could imagine how difficult it was to communicate with a resentful teenage girl, especially with no support from a partner. ‘What made you think Katy had run away?’
‘Her sports bag and phone are missing. The bag is always by the front door and she doesn’t go anywhere without her mobile. I don’t know what clothes she was wearing or took with her, but I told DI Kilburn what she was dressed in when I last saw her.’
‘Has she run off before?’
‘After we first moved here, she disappeared. She caught a bus to Northampton and ended up at a friend’s house. The kid’s mother rang me and I drove down and collected her. Katy was missing her friends badly. We talked it over and she didn’t do it again. She’s stayed out late on a couple of occasions but not gone missing.’
‘And you passed this information on to DI Kilburn?’
‘The first thing I thought of was that she’d gone to Northampton again. I called a couple of her best mates but they’ve not heard from her for a while. DI Kilburn said he’d contact all her old friends and they’re looking at ways she might have travelled there.’
It seemed to Natalie there was a strong possibility Katy might have caught the train that ran from Watfield to Samford and then another from there to Northampton. DI Kilburn would definitely be looking into that possibility. Maybe that’s why she needed money and was disgruntled when she only received ten pounds. Her concern, though, was that Katy hadn’t actually run away and had, in fact, been taken by the killer. ‘Where did she go when she stayed out late?’
‘She was in Western Park, of all places.’
On her own?’
‘Yes. That worried me even more. I told her she couldn’t do that. It was far too dangerous to be out alone in a place like that and I grounded her. She got the message. That’s why she carries her phone – so we can stay in contact. She isn’t picking up at the moment. I’ve tried her loads of times. It goes straight to the messaging service.’
It had been the same with the other girls. Nobody had been able to reach them on their phones. ‘Did your daughter ever talk about Savannah Hopkins?’
‘I can’t say that she did. I heard the name on the news but it’s not one Katy’s mentioned before.’
‘They were at the same school.’
‘Then she might know her but her name didn’t crop up.’
‘What about Harriet Long?’
He rubbed the back of his neck again and then sat forward. ‘No.’
‘We’ll need a list of her friends to talk to.’
He gave a sad shake of his head. ‘She doesn’t seem to have any.’
Lucy’s eyes widened and she chipped in. ‘No friends? Who does she talk to online then?’
‘Her old schoolmates in Northampton. We moved from there soon after Lisa died. I thought it was better for us both to make a fresh start.’
‘She must have one friend here at least!’ Lucy exclaimed.
Natalie was equally surprised the girl laid claim to having none, and felt a pang of sorrow for the seemingly friendless teenager. Savannah too had been unpopular.
‘That’s one of the things we regularly fell out about. She refused to make an effort. It was a deliberate move on her part. She was manipulating the situation so I’d give in and we’d return to Northampton, but I wasn’t the pushover she hoped for. The thing is, she can’t understand why I’ll never be able to return. It’s way too painful for me. When I lost Lisa, I lost everything apart from Katy, and I took the decision to move. I didn’t make it lightly but I honestly thought she’d get used to Watfield in time. It’s a really nice town and kids don’t have trouble mixing, do they? Not somebody like Katy. She’s a bright girl and very sporty so I was sure she’d fit in more easily than she did.’
There was a moment of lucidity. Natalie’s head snapped up. ‘You said Katy took her sports bag with her?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Did she use Watfield Sports Centre?’
‘A few times. They have all sorts of events there and she went to a couple. I encouraged her to join the girls’ football team but she wasn’t keen. Actually, I think she was but she was holding out in an effort to persuade me to leave Watfield.’
Harriet had liked sports and played football too. Maybe they had met or known each other after all. There was another possibility.
‘Katy has a mobile phone. Is it on a contract?’
‘Pay-as-you-go. Bought it at the phone shop in town.’
The phone shop kept cropping up. Duffy must have seen or known all three of the girls. That was quite some coincidence. The question was, how well had he really known them? All of a sudden, Natalie was keen to interview Duffy again. She had enough information to get started and no time to waste. She thanked Christopher and moved towards the front door. A young officer was waiting for her on the doorstep. He stepped forwards and held out an iPad. ‘I’ve been instructed to stay with Mr Bywater once you leave, and to pass this to you. DI Kilburn sends his apologies but he’s too heavily involved to talk to you personally and will contact you as soon as possible.’
‘What do I do now?’ asked Christopher from his chair.
Natalie answered him. ‘I’m sorry but all you can do is wait and let the police do their job. We’ll do everything we can to find her. In the meantime, if you think of anything that might help us find her, tell this officer.’
Back in the car, Natalie switched on the iPad, checked the history and, without saying a word, handed it to Murray. He looked at the page and said, ‘Shit. She’s been on that Disappear site.’
Natalie nodded. ‘She intended on hiding. She took her sports bag and phone and went when she knew her dad was at the pub and unlikely to check up on her.’
Lucy leant her elbows against Natalie’s headrest. ‘And she didn’t go missing on the way to school like the others did. She might actually be hiding out somewhere and not in danger.’
‘True, but it bothers me that she’s been on that bloody website. And there are other coincidences: she’s at the same school as Savannah, she goes to Watfield
Sports Centre – as did Harriet – and all three girls visited the phone shop. We really have to follow this up.’
While Natalie and Lucy talked, Murray scrolled through the browsing history on the iPad. He shook his head and said, ‘She’s been searching through information on dares or challenges and for information on how to avoid being found. She was definitely interested in this disappearing challenge. She’s been on the Disappear website every day, sometimes twice a day, checking videos and the questions and answers section, but there’s nothing in her search history about timetables or routes to get from Watfield to Northampton.’
‘She might have decided that Northampton would be the first place her dad would think of. He told us she came back late from Western Park. That place seems to have some sort of attraction for these girls.’
‘You saw the pavilion. No one could possibly hide out there.’
‘Maybe there’s somewhere else in the park we don’t know about. I’ll ask DI Kilburn to send officers to it in case she is hiding there.’
Lucy had pulled out her smartphone and was looking at Google Maps. ‘The park’s close to the sports centre. Think she might have bumped into or met Savannah or Harriet there?’
‘Yes, that’s possible too.’ Natalie took the iPad from Murray and made the decision. ‘First stop is the phone shop. Murray, we’ll drop you off on the way. Head to the sports centre. Take photos of the three girls with you and find out if they were ever seen together.’
She picked up the comms unit as they pulled away and spoke to Ian. He had made some progress.
‘Hi, Natalie. I’ve sent the information on Katy and Christopher Bywater across to your email. Her mum, Lisa, passed away in May 2017. One month later, Katy was suspended from school for unruly behaviour, and she and her father moved to Watfield in late July last year.’
Natalie was no psychiatrist but the date of Katy’s suspension was close to her mother’s death, and undoubtedly the two were linked. Katy was a very unhappy girl.
Ian continued, ‘I’ve got something else too. Mike’s passed me information from Harriet Long’s phone. She bragged on social media that she was going to perform a dare that would stagger them all.’
‘She didn’t say what it was, did she?’
‘No, only that it would make a few people take notice of her and would definitely make her dad proud.’
The poor girl had really wanted her imprisoned father to pay her some attention and not cut her out. Natalie mused they now had yet another connection between the three girls: they were all unhappy teenagers, each vying for attention.
‘Mike’s also managed to enhance the video of Harriet screaming. It’s still not clear but they think it’s a dark-grey door.’
Natalie thought of the specks of wood found underneath Savannah’s nails. The girls might have been held captive in the same place.
‘Cheers for that. I need you to do something else. Mark out a one-mile area around Katy’s house and search for rubbish dumps, bins, areas associated with waste, skips or any other such places where a killer would leave a body.’ She caught the look Murray threw her. She hoped fervently that it wouldn’t come to it, but if Katy had been taken by the killer, her body would be somewhere close by.
Twenty-Two
Then
It’s hot and cramped in the washing machine. He can no longer see out of the door or hear any voices. He kicks against the glass but his foot strikes it feebly.
‘Faye!’ The weak cry takes a lot of effort. There’s no answer. He tries to breathe in but he’s in an awkward position and his chest feels crushed. He can’t move his head to work out how to escape, and although his foot connects again with the door, it isn’t enough to open it.
He’s becoming light-headed, disconnected from reality like when he had a fever and been in bed, his mother by his side. He has no true memory of the event, just a series of shifting scenes: his mother crying; a bowl that smelt awful; a damp cloth; his father – no, it couldn’t be him, because he’s dead; a hand on his head and a deep voice; his head being lifted to help him sip water. This feels similar except he’s really uncomfortable and there’s no one to help him. His arms are numb and everything is slowing down except his breathing. He can’t inflate his chest as normal, each breath no more than a gasp. ‘Faye!’
There’s nothing from outside. The girls have left him. He’s going to spend the night here. He rolls his eyes upwards, straining to work out how to get out, and catches sight of a movement – something long and black. His pulse quickens. It’s the snake. The snake is actually inside the machine above him, and he has no stone to crush it. That’s why the girls were laughing. They’ve shut him in with the snake. The scream dies in his throat. If he moves or makes a noise, it will attack him. He knows about snakes. He watched a programme where a man had caught one. Snakes don’t like movement. If they feel threatened, they’ll attack. He has to remain still. The effort is almost impossible and waves of pain shoot through his upper body, but he doesn’t flinch and instead closes his eyes. His chest hurts with the effort of breathing, and in spite of trying to remain quiet and not annoy the snake, he starts to rasp as he inhales small amounts of oxygen. He must stay still. He must not anger the snake.
He thinks about his mum who’ll have his tea ready and will be wondering where he is. A lump rises in his throat. He wants to go home and tell his mum about the snake and how he knew to keep still. His mum is always telling him how clever he is…
‘God might not have given you a big body, but he gave you big brains.’
‘The other kids laugh at me all the time and call me horrid names.’
‘If they had any idea of how much you have inside that head of yours, they wouldn’t laugh. Your body will change and grow eventually. It’s had to wait its turn while your brain takes up all the growing energy first. You wait and see if I’m not right.’
He really wants his mum now. The snake is making a hissing noise. It’s coming for him and he won’t be able to attack it, not here, not all squished up in the machine. Maybe it’s a huge boa constrictor that will crush the life out of him, or a smaller snake with a flickering, forked tongue that will suddenly dart out and strike him and then his body will fill with poison and his skin swell until it bursts. Tears well in his eyes and trickle down his cheeks. He doesn’t want to be trapped in the machine with the huge snake. He releases a little whimper.
‘Help!’
His voice is a mere whisper. He’s alone apart from the snake and he’s going to die. There isn’t enough air. He attempts to move but can’t. His limbs are heavy and glued to the metal drum in which he is stuck. Small sparks of light flitter across his vision. His chest is getting tighter. The realisation hits him hard. The snake is a boa constrictor. It’s coiled around him and is crushing him bit by bit as it tightens around his bony chest. Soon he’ll hear the sound of his ribs cracking. He can’t move. He squeezes his eyes shut. He doesn’t want to see the snake. He can’t bear to see its scaly body. It’s terrible enough having it gradually squeeze the air from him. He’s terrified it will slither over his face. Fear – a deep, terrible fear – replaces the knowledge of what is happening, and he moans quietly as his breaths became increasingly shallow.
He wants to tell his mum he’s sorry and that he’d only wanted to get her something nice from the dump – the bright, shining kettle or something similar – but it’s too late. He won’t wake up tomorrow and make up some excuse as to why he didn’t see the headmaster and eat his favourite cereal, Rice Krispies, while his baby brother rhythmically thumps his plastic cup against the tray on his high chair. Tears break through his lashes. The pain is almost unbearable in his chest. The snake is killing him.
The door springs open.
‘Ha!’ Faye’s bark of laughter is loud to his ears.
He draws in a painful, ragged breath. ‘Snake. Help!’
Faye giggles. Vee appears beside her and shoves her face into the gap. She’s upside down. As oxygen pours into his
lungs again, he registers it is him who’s upside down, not Vee.
‘Snake,’ he repeats.
‘Where?’
‘On me.’
‘There’s no snake,’ Faye says.
Behind her, Missy is snorting with laughter. ‘You look a bit stuck. Want a hand?’
He can barely move. Every part of him is stuck in the drum. He manages to move a hand towards his chest. There’s nothing restricting it. The snake has slithered away again, probably scared of the girls.
A pair of hands reach for his calves and pull at them. He howls at the rush of pain that pours into them.
‘Pipe down, you baby. We’re helping you out. Shut up for a second.’
The girls yank at his shoes and get them outside the machine, so they’re touching the ground.
‘You’re going to have to slide the rest of you out yourself. We’ve helped you enough.’ Faye sounds cross now. ‘And you stink of piss.’
‘The snake.’
‘What snake? There isn’t a stupid snake. It was a story we spread about to keep kids like you out of our area.’
‘There’s a snake in the machine.’ He wriggles and twists and turns until he flops onto the ground, exhausted, snot running down his chin.
‘Yeah, sure there is. Go home, scaredy-cat. We don’t want you around here. If we find you here again, we’ll put you back in there and never let you out.’
He pushes up onto his knees and, turning 180 degrees, faces the open door. Where has the snake gone? He looks upwards and then downwards and spots a length of black hose coiled sinisterly.
‘Go on. Shove off.’ Missy is advancing again with a mean look on her face.
He staggers to his feet and stumbles away.
‘Scaredy-cat!’
The taunts follow him as he trudges off. He’d almost died. It wasn’t a snake that had been killing him but lack of air. He knows that now. Tears roll down his face. He is dirty and smelly and very, very angry. The girls will pay for what they’ve done.