The Child Catcher (A DI Erica Swift Thriller Book 4)

by M K Farrar

  “I can do that,” Shawn offered. “I’ll stop by on my way home.”

  IT WAS GETTING LATE.

  Erica briefed Gibbs on what they’d learned that day, then left the office and drove to her sister’s house.

  “How’s she been today?” she asked Natasha as her sister gathered Poppy’s things.

  “Better,” Tasha told her. “Though they’re doing a school project and have been asked to bring in a picture of someone they admire.”

  Erica could already see where this was going. “And Poppy wants to take one in of her dad?”

  “Yep.”

  It wasn’t that Erica had any problem with Poppy looking up to her dad, it was the handling of all the questions that were bound to come from her classmates. While they knew that her dad had died, obviously the details of the horrific way that death had occurred had been kept from them. Poppy taking her dad’s photo into school was only going to make them start asking questions again, and one thing Erica had learned over the years was that kids could be cruel. Poppy’s teachers were good at jumping on any kind of bullying, but they couldn’t have eyes on the kids all the time. Erica knew this was going to stir up some more issues, but it would be wrong of her to try to convince Poppy to take in a photograph of someone else.

  Back in the car, with Poppy sitting in her car seat behind her, Erica broached the subject.

  “Aunty Tasha says you’re going to take a photo of Daddy into school next week.”

  Immediately, Poppy appeared worried, biting her lower lip. “That’s okay, isn’t it, Mummy?”

  “Of course it’s okay, but you know some of your school friends will start asking questions about how Daddy died.”

  Her chin dropped. “I’ll just tell them the truth. He was pushed in front of a Tube train by a bad man.”

  Erica’s heart broke. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to go on the Tube since that day and was pretty sure she’d instilled the same fear in her daughter. “That’s right. I just don’t want anyone saying hurtful things to you, that’s all.”

  Her little lips twisted. “I know. Maybe I should take in a photo of someone else, but I wanted to be able to talk about him. Other girls at school have their daddies come and pick them up, or visit class to see their work, and I can’t tell Daddy what I did at school today.”

  “Yeah, it sucks, doesn’t it?”

  Poppy nodded. “It really sucks. I wish there was a way we could visit him instead, up in Heaven.”

  Erica remembered how Poppy had talked about wanting to see him again, and how she wanted to know how long it would be before she could see her dad and granddad in Heaven again.

  A thought occurred to her. “You know, we could go and visit Daddy’s grave, if you wanted. I know it’s not the same, but you could tell him about all the things you’ve been doing in class there.”

  Poppy immediately perked up. “Yeah? I think I would like that.”

  Erica checked her rearview mirror and then flicked her indicator to change directions. “Okay, then. Let’s do it.”

  Poppy’s eyes widened. “What? Now?”

  “Why not? We’ll swing by and say hello to Granddad, too.”

  Her dad and Chris were both buried in the same cemetery. She’d never imagined a year ago that she’d be visiting them both there today.

  It was a short drive, but before long, Erica was pulling the car over, and they climbed out. Poppy ran ahead, past the big stone war memorial, a wreath of her namesake resting at its base. Headstones of various shapes and sizes, some old, some brand new, some with flowers, and others bare, stretched out on both directions of the path. They’d been there many times before—though perhaps not as often as they should have—and Poppy ran on ahead, knowing where she was going.

  The memory of the Ford boy vanishing when he’d gone ahead on his bike leapt into her head and a burst of panic jolted through her.

  “Don’t go too far, Pops!” Erica called out.

  Poppy slowed and threw Erica a smile over her shoulder.

  They reached the place where Chris was buried. Poppy plonked herself on the ground beside Chris’s headstone and immediately began chatting away to her dad.

  Erica smiled sadly to herself and took a seat on a bench nearby, letting Poppy spill her heart out.

  Maybe Erica should have made more of an effort to bring Poppy to Chris’s graveyard. Some people found comfort in having a place they could come and sit with their loved one, something physical they could associate with them. Erica had never felt that way. In her mind, Chris wasn’t in this graveyard. She saw him in her memories at home, all the parts of their life together that their house contained, or in the weight on his side of the bed that she sometimes imagined, and then had to remind herself that Chris was dead. That Chris’s body had been put in a box and buried beneath the ground, and a piece of stone erected above it didn’t feel like Chris to her at all, so she rarely visited the grave. It hadn’t occurred to her that her daughter may feel completely differently, and she experienced a pang of remorse for not considering this months ago.

  Sometimes it felt as though she was never going to get this parenting thing right. Being a detective at least came with training.

  Of course, Poppy hadn’t been the only one who’d lost her dad—though Erica understood it was a very different experience as a child compared to an adult.

  Erica had never imagined she would miss her dad as much as she did. There were days, when she was on her way home from work, with her thoughts still lost in a case, where she’d pull into the driveway of the Willow Glade Care home, and be climbing out of the car before she realised what she’d done. Then it would hit her all over again, and she’d sink back into the driver’s seat and have to catch her breath at the smack of emotion.

  She remembered the irritation of needing to come to visit her dad, the responsibility, not wanting the burden when she was tired and only wanted to come home. The memory filled her with shame. How could she have felt that way, when they’d had so little time left? She wished she’d cherished every moment instead. But then hindsight was twenty-twenty, and there were plenty of things she’d have done differently over her lifetime, including making different choices that would have saved her husband’s life, too. She could have questioned Nicholas Bailey sooner, or maybe could even have saved his brother’s life all those years ago, when he’d jumped in front of the train, so Nicholas Bailey wouldn’t have held her responsible and come after her family.

  Poppy had finally run out of steam, as she jumped to her feet and ran over to where Erica was sitting. Erica suddenly realised she hadn’t been paying attention, lost in her own thoughts, not watching her daughter. Someone could have taken Poppy, and then Erica would be like one of those parents, filled with guilt at not concentrating on her child.

  “I told Daddy everything,” Poppy declared. “I think he’d be really happy to be my person I look up to at school.”

  Erica slipped her arm around her daughter’s waist and pulled her in for a hug. “I think he’d be super happy to be your person. And we can come here whenever you want to talk to him, too, if it makes you feel better to have an actual place you can visit him.”

  Poppy nodded solemnly. “It does, Mummy. I like to know he’s still somewhere safe.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Ellie’s leggings were damp and clung to her thighs, and, every time she moved, she caught a waft of wee. There was a boy in her class, Joe, who always seemed to smell like wee, and people were mean and laughed at him behind his back because of it. Ellie had laughed, too, at times, and now the memory of it made her feel all knotted up inside, guilty and shameful. What if Joe had lived somewhere like this but had been too embarrassed to tell anyone, and that was why he had smelled bad?

  A thought occurred to her.

  “Do you think we’ll still be allowed to go to school?” she hissed at Ashley across the room.

  Ashley gave a strange laugh. “No, I don’t think we’ll be going to schoo
l anymore, Ellie. If we go to school, we could just tell someone what’s been happening to us and ask for help.”

  Now he’d said it, that seemed obvious. If she went to school, her mummy and daddy would know where to find her and would come and get her.

  “But how will we learn things?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I suppose we won’t.”

  Ellie sank inwards with disappointment. She liked learning. She enjoyed being able to read along with the storybooks her parents read to her before bed. She even liked school, though she knew some of the older kids laughed and called you a nerd if you ever admitted to that out loud.

  Footsteps came from outside the door, and Ellie sucked in a breath and clamped her mouth shut.

  The Creeper was coming.

  The door swung open and a beam of light cascaded into the room

  The Creeper reared back and wrinkled their nose. “Ugh. You made a mess of yourself. After everything I’ve done for you, you can’t even do something simple like go to the bathroom.”

  Tears filled Ellie’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  It seemed unfair that she was being told off for not going to the bathroom when there wasn’t one to go to, but even at her young age, she could tell that arguing with the Creeper was not a good idea.

  “I’m always having to clean up after you without a single word of thanks.”

  “Th-th-thank you,” she stuttered, not knowing what else to say.

  “Wait here and I’ll get you some clean clothes.”

  Ellie didn’t know where the Creeper was going to get her clean clothes from. As far as she was aware, all her clothes were still in her drawers in her bedroom at home.

  The large figure turned to leave again, but, instead of pulling the door fully shut behind them, closing them back off in the dark, the Creeper left it ajar. The light revealed low ceilings and metal piping, brick walls. Ellie caught sight of the blond boy sitting on the bare mattress. He was dirty and thin, and pale, and they caught each other’s eye. She risked a smile.

  “If we weren’t chained now,” he whispered, “we could run.”

  Her heart lurched, and she glanced back to the open doorway. They had no idea where it might lead. What would they do if they got out onto the street? Could they shout for help? Didn’t that mean whoever they were shouting to were strangers as well? How would they know if they could trust them to help, or if they might take them and tie them up in another horrible-smelling room?

  Footsteps signalled the Creeper coming back, and both children fell quiet.

  “Here,” the Creeper said gruffly, leaning down to Ellie to grab at her wet leggings.

  Ellie whined and yanked away, but the Creeper was too strong, and their big, rough hands pulled both Ellie’s knickers and leggings down.

  Embarrassment and shame like she’d never experienced before swept over her in a breath-taking wave. She didn’t have any knickers on in front of a stranger, and there was a boy on the other side of the room.

  The material of both the leggings and knickers wouldn’t get past the cuff around her ankle, and the Creeper yanked at them with no success.

  “Dammit,” they muttered.

  A set of keys on a chain dangled from their belt, and the Creeper used one to undo the cuff and then pulled a clean pair of knickers and a pair of girl’s leggings up over Ellie’s feet with surprising efficiency, so Ellie was quickly dressed again.

  She was surprisingly grateful for the feel of the clean, dry cotton against her skin. The clothes were a bit too small, but that wasn’t really important, considering everything else.

  Finally, the Creeper cuffed her ankle again.

  “Right, now make sure you eat, okay? I won’t stand for wasted food.”

  Now Ellie was in clean, dry clothes, her stomach cramped with hunger. A few hours earlier, she’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t eat anything this mean person brought her, but suddenly the hunger was stronger than the sullen determination to starve. The food wasn’t anything she recognised—a kind of bread that was flat, with some meat and rice. If her Mummy had given her this for dinner, she probably would have picked at it and complained, but she didn’t dare do that now. She picked up the bread in one hand and tore off chunks, stuffing them into her mouth, and then doing the same with the meat. The meat tasted a bit funny, but she pretended it was just a burger. Her dad would normally shout at her for using her fingers instead of picking up a knife and fork, but she didn’t have a choice. The Creeper hadn’t given them one.

  The boy ate as well, and the Creeper stood over them, watching and waiting for them to finish their meals.

  Ellie finished eating and sat back, almost breathless. Her stomach churned, and she put her hand to her belly, suddenly frightened she was going to throw the food back up again, but then it settled.

  “Good.” The Creeper bent to scoop up her empty plate and then did the same to the boy. “I like to see a clean plate. Now behave yourselves for a while. I’ve got things to do.”

  And with that, they left, yanking the door shut behind them again, enclosing them in darkness.

  Both children were silent for a moment, then Ashley spoke out of the black.

  “I have an idea.”

  She didn’t know if she liked the sound of that. “What kind of idea?”

  “A way we might be able to escape. The Creeper came in and left the door open to see, and then undid the chain. I could pretend that I’ve had an accident in my pants, too, and then when the Creeper undoes the chain around my ankle to change my bottoms, you start shouting or screaming or something to distract them, and I’ll run for the door.”

  “No!” She shook her head, frantic. “I’ll get in trouble for screaming.”

  “We’re already in trouble, Ellie. We have to try something.”

  “No, we don’t. We can just wait for the grownups to find us. My mummy and daddy will be looking for me. When they get here, they’ll help.”

  “They might not find us. I’ve been here for weeks. My parents would be trying to find me, too. If someone was going to find us, they’d have done it by now.”

  “No, I don’t want to do this, Ashley. I’m scared.”

  “I’m scared, too, but we need to do this.”

  Ellie didn’t see why they had to try something. She felt herself growing stubborn and sulky, wanting to jut out her lower lip and pull her knees into her chest. They were just little kids. They weren’t supposed to do dangerous things. That was for the grownups to handle.

  “Please, Ellie,” he begged. “You don’t have to do much. Just scream when the Creeper takes off my chain. It might work, and then we can go home. Don’t you want to go home? I don’t want to be here anymore.”

  She heard the hitch in his voice and could tell he was crying, and that made her want to cry, too. Ashley had been here for much longer than her. She’d only been here a day, maybe two at the most—it was hard to tell when you couldn’t see outside and you didn’t have school, or anyone calling you for breakfast or dinner, and no one putting you to bed. How would she feel if she’d been here as long as he had? Maybe she’d have given up hope of anyone coming to help by then, too.

  “Okay,” she said. “I’ll do it.”

  “Yes! This will work, Ellie. I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Erica dropped Poppy off at the school’s breakfast club the following morning and drove into work. She logged on to her PC to discover an email from Farhad Khadem, the owner of the shop where the receipt had come from, together with CCTV footage from the time they were looking at.

  She was surprised to see it. The boy they’d spoken to at the shop obviously had passed on her card. She guessed she’d misjudged him.

  “Morning.” Shawn placed a cup of coffee for her on her desk. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “Thanks,” Erica said, nodding towards the coffee, “and yes, it is, though I don’t know how much use it’s going to be. It’s probably just going to show someone chea
ting on their diet.”

  “You think they bought chocolate and then went and sat in the park to eat it instead of going home to reveal their weakness to their other half, and dropped the receipt while they were there?”

  Erica grimaced. “Yeah, probably, but it’s still worth checking out. The email from the shop owner says he only got video footage from behind, though. It seems the camera behind the till wasn’t working. In his email, he says that camera had been broken for several months now, he just never got around to fixing it. He was very apologetic.”

  Shawn took a sip of his coffee and shrugged. “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

  “How did you get on with Dempsey last night?”

  “He’s given me some times and dates for meetings, but like McClennan and Nesh, he couldn’t give me any names of the people he met. I’ve got some descriptions and I’ve requested CCTV footage from around the area.”

  “Okay. Let’s hope this gives us something more substantial to go on.”

  Erica hit ‘play’, and they both watched the grainy black-and-white footage. In the far corner, behind the counter, a teenage girl fiddled with her mass of corkscrew curls, the ends dyed a different colour to the rest. Closer to the camera, a couple of people browsed the shelves, though the position of the lens only showed the tops of their heads. An older Asian man walked across the screen and then vanished from view. Finally, at two forty-nine, someone approached the counter.

  “There.” Erica pointed at the screen.

  Frustratingly, they could only see the person from behind—short dark hair, jeans, and a hoodie. The person lingered at the counter before selecting a couple of chocolate bars and handing them over to the girl. From this point, the exchange between the two was blocked by the male’s back, until a moment later, he turned and walked back out of the shop, never pausing to look up at the camera.