Lost Girls

by Angela Marsons

  The squad car pulled up on the Timmins’ drive. Kim hadn't spoken during the journey as she pulled together every last strand.

  ‘Boss, do you want to tell me what's going on?’ Dawson said

  She shook her head. ‘You'll be busy.’

  She stepped out of the car and the front door opened. They had not returned in the manner they'd left; rushed, panicky and full of fear.

  Four anxious parents stepped out of the house. Karen and Robert were clutching each other’s hands. Elizabeth was a step behind hugging Nicholas closely. Stephen walked to the far left holding his phone, alone. Their expressions were united in a mixture of both fear and hope.

  Kim allowed the smile to form on her face.

  ‘We have them both.’

  Her statement was followed by a collection of screams and cries. Kim wasn't sure what came from whom.

  ‘Amy has a broken finger and Charlie has an injury to her foot and face, but other than that they're alive and well and incredibly brave.’

  Kim made eye contact with Karen as she said those last words.

  ‘They're on their way to Russells Hall for treatment so I suggest you get on your way.’ She turned to Dawson. ‘My colleague will escort you on the blues.’

  ‘Everyone in mine,’ Stephen said, pointing to a black Range Rover. In the throes of their euphoria the fractures in their relationships would pale. For now.

  As they filed past her, Kim couldn’t help addressing one last issue.

  ‘Hey, Stephen,’ she said, smiling. ‘Do you like me now?’

  He paused and looked at her. Gone was the aggression and hostility, now replaced by relief and joy.

  ‘Oh yes, Inspector, I like you very much.’

  Kim watched as they huddled into the car. Stephen and Robert took the front seats, while Elizabeth put Nicholas into the baby seat.

  At the last second, Karen hesitated before climbing in beside Elizabeth.

  She ran back and threw her arms around Kim, pulling her close.

  ‘Thank you for everything, Kim. I owe you my life.’

  Kim returned the hug briefly and then pushed the woman away.

  ‘Just go and be with your daughter.’

  Karen didn't need to be told twice.

  Dawson stood beside her. ‘Boss, I’ve got the answer. I know who ratted on Dewain.’

  The sadness in his face told her he’d arrived at the same conclusion as her.

  ‘I knew you would. Get these parents to the hospital and then go and make the arrest. It’s all yours.’

  ‘Thanks, boss,’ he said, heading towards the squad car.

  ‘Oh, and Kev,’ she called, as he opened the car door.

  He turned.

  ‘I don’t know what you did back then, but you’re in a crew now, okay?’

  His smile widened as he offered Kim a mock salute.

  She waited until both vehicles had disappeared before she entered the house.

  Matt stepped out of the kitchen.

  Alison stood at the bottom of the stairs.

  Helen stepped out of the lounge.

  Kim turned and closed the front door.

  There was one more loose end to tie up.

  One Hundred Ten

  Stacey appeared in the hallway and looked her up and down. ‘Bloody hell, boss, are you okay?’

  Kim held up her good hand and smiled. ‘I’m fine, Stace.’

  The detective constable stepped forward. ‘I found Karen but she’d already sent the …’

  ‘Stace, it’s fine. We got them all.’

  Kim turned left into the lounge.

  Helen followed with her hand at her throat. ‘You said the girls are okay? Oh, my goodness, I'm so relieved.’

  ‘Of course you are,’ Kim said, tipping her head. ‘It’s what you wanted all along.’

  Helen frowned and Kim itched to smack the pleasant, homely face.

  ‘You've failed, Helen. I know exactly what you wanted and you are not going to get away with it.’

  Matt now stood in the doorway. Alison and Stacey were right behind. Their confusion was obvious.

  Helen looked from one to the other.

  ‘Kim, what on earth are you talking about?’

  ‘That'll be Marm to you, Helen – and it's time to drop the act.’

  Helen shook her head dumbly but Kim could see the workings behind her eyes. She was trying to fathom where it had all gone wrong.

  And Kim was happy to share.

  ‘It was clear to me early on that your boys were not working alone. Their personalities were too extreme to function without an overruling authority – and what better than a maternal figure to keep the boys in check?

  ‘The first kidnapping case was devised by Will on his own. It was his plan but it all went wrong because of the road traffic accident. A couple of months after that you were informed that you would be forcibly retired. You appealed and failed. Now, empty your pockets.’

  Helen’s eyes darted from her to the spectators in the doorway.

  Kim took a step that caused pain to echo all around her body. She didn’t feel like wrestling the phone from her grip but she would if she had to.

  ‘Kim, have you lost your mind? I’m a family liaison officer,’ Helen protested.

  ‘Helen, I will empty them for you.’

  Helen dug into her back pockets and pulled out an iPhone.

  ‘The front ones,’ Kim said, wearily.

  Helen slowly put her hand into her right pocket and brought out a second phone. A Nokia.

  ‘I keep two phones …’

  ‘It’s not your phone. It belongs to Julia Trueman, aka Julia Billingham and you stole it from the evidence room.’ She looked behind her. ‘Stacey, take the phone.’

  Stacey strode across the room and snatched the phone from Helen’s hands. She pressed a few keys and then nodded.

  ‘You contacted Will on the phone he’d used to try and extort money from their family. I’m betting you told him you could make sure it went right this time. That you would be in place to make sure nothing went wrong. And then I played right into your hands by requesting your involvement on this new kidnapping. You knew that anyone leading this case would have asked for the same thing.

  ‘I wondered why that second message was so long in coming. The girls had been gone for almost twelve hours but it was to give you time to get here and assess the situation.’

  ‘Kim, you’re mistaken. I haven't done anything. I haven't hurt—’

  ‘What about Inga Bauer? You know, I couldn't work out what could have happened to persuade Inga to turn on these girls. At first I thought it was love – and in a way it was, wasn't it, Helen? But not from the men. You were the one who courted her for months, found out that she'd been abandoned as a child and that she craved maternal love, and that's exactly what you gave her. You manipulated her need for a mother; her desire to be loved unconditionally. You gave her that love and then took away her life.’

  The expression on Helen’s face didn't change. There was no sliver of remorse for what she had done.

  ‘And even Eloise had you running scared. You were terrified that she might say something to incriminate you. Once she hinted that there was bitterness close to the investigation you couldn't escort her from the property quickly enough.

  ‘You knew she'd let you into her home if you offered to listen to her, so you did your own dirty work and tried to make it look as though she'd died in her sleep.’

  Helen stepped back and visibly paled.

  ‘Well, she didn’t die, Helen,’ Kim spat. ‘And she will identify you.’

  Helen’s head began to shake slowly, as though her brain couldn’t compute the complexity of just how badly she’d miscalculated.

  ‘And the clothes had to get here somehow, didn’t they?’ Kim fought down her rage. ‘You walked around this property placing those items for the parents to find. How the hell could you do that?’

  Kim was in no mood to give her the time to answer.
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  ‘But the final clue. The nail in your coffin was your timely mention of a forgotten memory. And that was your intention all along, wasn’t it? It was your plan that you would save the day. Your sudden memory would be the key to unlocking the location of the girls. And then you’d be the hero, wouldn’t you, Helen? What police force could retire an officer so instrumental in the safe return of two young girls?

  ‘You subjected Charlie and Amy to a week of the most horrendous terror, just so you could be the hero and keep your bloody job. Did you think your co-conspirators would just walk away from the farmhouse when you told them to? Were they supposed to leave the girls there alive so they wouldn’t be caught and identify you?’ Kim asked incredulously. ‘You really thought that’s what they would do?’

  Finally the mask of bewilderment dropped to reveal a genuine expression of disbelief.

  ‘The girls were never in any danger,’ Helen protested.

  ‘Jesus, you just don’t get it, do you?’ Kim stormed. ‘They were going to kill the girls. Will’s only motivation was money and Symes had been promised their lives.’

  Now she frowned. More miscalculations. What had she expected from Will; loyalty, trust?

  ‘No … no … no …’

  ‘Why, Helen?’ Kim said, taking a step towards her. ‘Were you really so badly affected by your retirement that you resorted to this?’

  ‘You should know, Kim,’ Helen said, quietly.

  ‘Know what?’

  Helen finally met her gaze. Her eyes were cold and hard.

  ‘I gave everything to this job. I gave it my life. I devoted every waking hour to the police force. I did whatever I was asked.

  ‘I have no husband, no family; only this job – and I was about to lose that. I was owed. I asked to stay on and I was refused, yet they advertise for new officers every year.

  ‘I've been discarded at the point where I can have nothing else. I'm too old for children. My looks are gone. In two months’ time I'll be a nothing. I'll be the woman wandering around the supermarket eager to strike up conversation with anyone who'll listen.

  ‘You asked for proof of life for those girls, but where's the proof of mine?’

  A half-smile played on Helen's mouth.

  ‘You'll see, Kim. You're so much like me. You've given every ounce of yourself to this case. Do you even remember where you live? Do you have a loved one, a child, even a pet? I'm betting not, because you're allowing yourself to be swallowed by the job and in twenty years’ time when you're the same age …’

  Kim stepped right into her face. ‘I will never feel bitter and twisted for the choices I make and I would never endanger the life of young girls or torture families because I didn't get my own way, you evil, psychotic bitch. And, I have a dog.’

  Helen's rage showed on her face. She lunged forward, hands outstretched, aiming for Kim's throat.

  Kim sidestepped the attack easily and Helen fell to the ground.

  Kim looked down at the pathetic figure who had almost cost two girls their lives.

  ‘Better practise that before you get to prison ’cos they're gonna love you in there.’

  One Hundred Eleven

  Dawson stood at the front door and hesitated before he knocked. He understood gang culture more than he cared to admit and it had cost him a memory that was ingrained in his brain.

  Two days after his fifteenth birthday a group of lads a year older had suddenly stopped calling him ‘lard-arse’, ‘pie-face’ and every other name reserved for fat kids. Instead, they had offered him a seat in the common room and a smile. He’d been invited to meet them in Cradley Heath High Street after school. It had been the happiest afternoon he’d ever spent in class.

  They’d been waiting for him outside the market, full of smiles and back slaps. For a whole ten minutes they had chatted around him but he’d felt part of their gang, their crew.

  Then suddenly he’d noticed the ringleader, Anthony, nod towards an old woman walking with the aid of two sticks. Two of the four kids had strolled towards the woman and kicked the right stick out of her hand. As she’d stumbled and tried to keep her balance, Anthony ran by and ripped the handbag from her right shoulder.

  Dawson had followed his instincts and started to run too. By the time he’d reached the woman she was lying on the ground. Something had forced him to look into her face, terrified she’d banged her head and died. He had looked down into eyes that were filled with terror. And in that brief second he knew that woman’s life would never be the same again.

  It was only when he’d reached the safety of home that Dawson had finally understood why he’d been asked along. He was fat. He couldn’t run as fast as the others so anyone chasing would have caught him first.

  The shame had burned within him for months but had lessened in line with his BMI. But not the memory of the fear in the old woman’s eyes. That had stayed with him for good.

  He understood why Dewain Wright had been part of the gang, but he’d been betrayed in the worst possible way.

  Dawson took a deep breath and knocked three times.

  The door opened slowly.

  Shona Wright stood before him with real fear in her eyes.

  ‘May I speak with you and your father?’

  There was no attitude and no swagger this time.

  He followed her to the lounge where two little girls sat cross-legged on the floor. A mini picnic had been laid out while they watched the television.

  ‘Rosi, Marisha, go to your room,’ Shona said, ushering them out.

  Vin sat at the far end of the sofa.

  Shona stood in front of the closed door.

  Dawson looked from one to the other and finally settled on Vin.

  ‘I know what you did to your son,’ he said, simply.

  Vin stared at him for the longest minute before dropping his head into his hands.

  ‘Dad …?’ Shona said from the door.

  Dawson looked to the girl’s father to see if any explanation was forthcoming. The broad shoulders were shaking gently and tears fell to the ground.

  He turned to Shona. He could see that her mind had accepted the truth but her heart had not yet caught up.

  Dawson sighed and spoke quietly. ‘Shona, it was your father that contacted Lyron. He told him that Dewain was still alive.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Shona spat. ‘You lot are bloody mental.’ She tapped her temple. ‘Bloody stupid.’

  Dawson looked at her father. She followed suit.

  She stared at his slumped shoulders, waiting for him to refute the words. Her head began to shake slowly from side to side. But Dawson could see that it was starting to sink in.

  He gave them a moment to digest what he’d said.

  He had originally thought that Lauren was responsible for passing on the information that Dewain was still alive, and even more so once he’d discovered she was now with Kai. The girl was not bright enough to have done so deliberately and didn’t care enough about Dewain to have done so by accident.

  Lauren was a girl who just wanted to live on the wild side. Her suburban shackles had been loosened by a foray into gang culture on Hollytree. As one cheap thrill was murdered there was another waiting to take its place.

  Dawson had realised the real culprit when he’d returned to the Timmins’ house after the girls had been found. Stephen Hanson had offered to take Nicholas from his wife while she climbed into the car. She had refused and clutched her son closely to her body. With one of her children missing, the grieving mother had held even more tightly to the one she still had.

  ‘He did it for you girls, Shona,’ Dawson explained. ‘While Dewain was alive you were all in danger. They would never have left you alone. Your lives would have been more horrendous than ever. The whole family would have been targeted and your father knew that.’

  The sobbing from the corner grew louder.

  ‘He was never gonna recover, Sho,’ Vin cried, raising his head. Mucus and tears mixed together and str
eaked his face. The voice was tortured and hoarse. ‘My boy was gone. Kept alive by machines and tubes. His brain was dead, they said.’

  Vin howled and Kev would swear it was the sound of a breaking heart.

  ‘I begged and begged to be moved but they wouldn’t move us, Sho. We weren’t high risk and Lyron would have found us wherever we went. I couldn’t risk losing you all. Oh my boy, my brave, brave boy …’

  Shona fought with the emotions storming around inside her. She ran to her father and knelt on the floor. His arms immediately encircled her and they sobbed together.

  Right now, this minute, Dawson felt no triumph in the conclusion of this case. Vin Wright had been faced with an impossible choice. Trapped in an environment where he was powerless to protect all his children, he had sacrificed his only son.

  He spoke softly. ‘Mr Wright, I’ll be in the hallway for a minute, but then you know what I have to do.’

  ‘I know … son. I know.’

  The words were strangled with emotion. For once Dawson didn’t flinch at being called ‘son’.

  Dawson possessed enough self-awareness to know that tomorrow his sympathy would be replaced by pride. It was a case and he’d solved it. A crime had been committed and the perpetrator would be punished.

  So, he was in no doubt he’d feel better tomorrow. But right now, he felt like shit.

  One Hundred Twelve

  Kim stared hard at the plate.

  It was a look that persuaded most of her colleagues to bend to her will. Unfortunately it didn't work on biscuits.

  The recipe and instruction list had been taken from a website for kids and she had followed it to the letter. She was sure she had.

  The website also contained pictures sent in by twelve-year-olds who were proud of their end result. Kim would not be photographing hers.

  The title of the product said 'rock cakes' but hers did not look like rocks, they looked like oversize Frisbees. The dollops of mixture once placed in the oven had spread, as though trying to crawl away and escape.

  Cooking was her nemesis. She had tried complex dishes that took more concentration than a Mensa quiz and the end result had spilled across the plate like a liquefied stew. She had tried simple dishes like a Victoria sponge that most kids had mastered at school. Still no joy.