by Rebecca King
He closed his eyes and, for the first time in a long time, began to pray.
“I will start on the outbuildings, the village hall, the church, and places like that. You, Weeks, can start with the house to house search with your men. The villagers will be inclined to help you given they know you. We meet back here in an hour,” Justin bit out.
Justin returned to the orphanage.
“Good morning again,” the matronly lady who answered the door declared with a sunny smile when she opened the door and recognised him. Her smile died when she saw the solemnity on Justin’s face. “What is it?”
“I need to ask you some questions, if I may?” he said dourly, and followed her into the orphanage when she stood back and waved him in.
“Let’s go into my office,” she offered quietly, leading the way into a large, wooden panelled room in the middle of which stood a solitary desk. The space could only be described as neat, well-polished, if a little tired.
“My name is Justin Silverton,” he began.
“Magda Withering,” the lady replied, waving him to a seat opposite her desk.
Justin dutifully sat.
“Tell me what you know about the villagers,” Justin asked quietly. When the woman merely stared at him, he told her about Vanessa’s disappearance.
“I have thought it over but cannot see any of the villagers doing something like this. I run this place and speak with authority when I say that Vanessa has been a great help to the orphanage, and her sister too for that matter. They both help here without fail, and are highly thought of by us, and the rest of the village. I just can’t see anybody wanting to hurt any of the missing.”
Justin nodded.
“I should have realised something was wrong when Vanessa didn’t arrive as usual this morning. It is uncharacteristic of her to simply disappear like this, but then the same applies to Jemima, and Geraldine,” Magda whispered, clearly upset.
“Why do you think people connected to the orphanage keep disappearing?” Justin demanded suddenly.
The woman paled. “I beg your pardon?” she whispered, horror in her eyes.
“I am sorry, but it strikes me as unusual that Jemima used to work here, and she was accosted on the way home. Then Vanessa, who was on her way here, disappears after leaving home. It is odd, don’t you think?” he murmured.
While he spoke, he kept his gaze firmly fixed on the woman before him. She stared at him in growing horror as the realisation dawned on her that the culprit might be someone connected with the orphanage.
“Who saw Jemima leave here the other evening?” he asked.
“Well, I was here, of course. Then there was Elizabeth, she is our cook. She had dinner with Jemima before Jemima left for home. She was probably one of the last people to see her, but Elizabeth wouldn’t hurt her. It just isn’t in her nature.”
Justin shook his head when the memory of Vanessa saying a similar thing about Reuben sprang to mind.
“Who else was here?” he prompted when Magda fell silent.
“There was Sophia. Elizabeth and Sophia are my permanent ladies. They are paid for what they do.”
“Do they live here?”
“Yes.”
“How long have they worked here?” Justin asked.
“Elizabeth has been here for over ten years now, coming on for eleven. Sophia for about eight, I think.”
“Are they here now?”
“Yes, you can speak with them if you like.”
Justin waved her back down when she rose out of her chair. “Who else volunteers?”
“Well, I have a group of about six ladies from the village who help. Or used to. They all came in on different days of the week, and read to the children, played games, supervised their lessons, that kind of thing. They used to have lunch with the children and leave in the afternoon. They didn’t get paid for what they did. The ladies have all been helping out here for many years now, I am sure none of them would hurt either the children, or Vanessa.”
“Give me there names, please,” Justin asked.
“There was Vanessa, Geraldine, Mary Macguire, Eleanor Tompkins, Catherine Harrigan, and Bridgette Brigman.”
Justin sighed. His gaze slid to the window behind Magda.
“What about the gardens? Who helps with that? I understand Reuben used to help?”
“Yes, he did,” Magda sighed. “He doesn’t any more, though. He works for the vicar, digging graves. He is a little – unusual.”
“Vanessa has already told me,” Justin replied, softening his tone a little.
“He does still help a little, but not much. The garden is now tended to by Elizabeth’s husband. He stopped working recently because his arthritis became too bad, and so potters around here, but he isn’t the kind to harm anybody,” Magda replied firmly.
As if to prove her point, an elderly gent sauntered past the window, his gait slow and uneven. It reminded him so much of Reuben that for a moment, Justin wondered if they were related.
“Tell me about Reuben,” he said suddenly.
He had no idea why he wanted to waste time thinking about the odd gentleman who avoided people like the plague. Like Vanessa said, it was highly unlikely he would harm anybody. However, he was observant, and that would make him a very good source of information, if Justin could get him to talk to him.
“I know about his past,” Justin added before Magda could speak. He quickly relayed everything Vanessa had told him. “Why doesn’t he speak to people?”
Magda looked sad for a moment. “He withdrew into himself when Carlotta left and hasn’t recovered.”
“He doesn’t like people, though, even men,” Justin observed.
“No, he seems to be suspicious of everyone, and doesn’t engage in conversation much, I agree,” Magda replied.
“What would that have to do with Carlotta’s leaving?” Justin asked.
Magda shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Where can I find Reuben?” Justin asked as he stood. “Where does he live?”
“Oh, he won’t speak to you,” Magda told him flatly. “He is shy around strangers.”
“I don’t care. Where can I find him?”
“He lives in a small house at the back of the Rectory. Be careful with him. If Reuben decides not to tell you anything, he won’t, even if he has seen something.” Magda rounded the desk. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“If he does see something, will he be able to relay it to me in detail, or is he likely to be confused about facts?” Justin persisted, waving away her offer.
“He can tell you anything in detail if he wishes. His memory is sound. That was never in question. It is just the social side of his character that seems to be lacking, if you know what I mean? He cannot read or write but gets by because people are aware of his condition. It might be best if I speak to him with you. If he has seen something he will be more inclined to tell me.”
“This is a government investigation into multiple counts of kidnap, possibly murder,” Justin replied crisply. “I am afraid nobody can get involved in it. If Reuben has information, he will tell me or is going to spend a very long time behind bars.”
When Magda opened her mouth as if to protest, Justin cut her off by bidding her a brisk goodbye and taking his leave. He didn’t slow his stride as he cross the road and headed straight over to the church. Once there, he tried the church door, and was a little surprised to find it locked in the middle of the day.
“So much for being open to all,” he mumbled as he stood back to study the rectory next door; a large, rather resplendent building tucked away to the right of the church itself.
Justin studied the silent churchyard. Before he left, he contemplated what he had learned this morning, the most compelling being was that the three women from the village who had vanished had all been connected to the orphanage.
“It can’t have anything to do with the other women who have gone missing from the Leicestershire/Derbyshire border,” he m
urmured aloud. “They can’t be connected.”
To him, it felt like someone had learned of the disappearances, and had decided to use the kidnappings as a cover to carry out crimes of their own.
“Are they getting rid of a few enemies perhaps?” Justin discounted that because he knew Vanessa was probably the last person to have enemies. She was too pretty, too clever, and far too kind to annoy anybody that much.
Justin sighed, and was immensely relieved, if a little wary, when Niall entered the churchyard and stalked toward him.
“Do you know something?” Niall growled. “I have learned nothing. Not a bean. The man, and victim, have just vanished again.” He winced and looked apologetically at his colleague. “I am sorry – Vanessa.”
“There is no trace of them.” Justin whispered with absolute certainty.
Niall shook his head. “Weeks has nearly finished his search and has found nothing either. Angus has half the village looking but nothing has been found so far.”
“It’s the orphanage,” Justin murmured quietly. He felt Niall tense but didn’t remove his gaze from the building opposite.
“What are your thoughts? Do you think it is the gardener?”
Together, the men watched the old man disappear into an out building.
“He doesn’t look like he can fight his way out of a paper bag much less wrestle with a frightened woman,” Niall scoffed, but continued to watch the man when he re-appeared and began to amble around the lawn. “He can see who is leaving and entering from the garden, so will know who is there. He also has direct access to the road.”
Justin nodded. “He could snatch someone, drag them over that low stone wall and they would be gone in a thrice.”
Niall pursed his lips. “How would he get them across the lawn without being seen?”
“Wait until nightfall?”
Niall lifted his brows. “Wouldn’t that make his wife suspicious? I mean, leaving the house late at night to go out into the orphanage garden is not a two-minute job, is it? Surely, she would realise something was wrong, especially when he stepped outside at the same time the women disappeared.”
“It doesn’t sound feasible, does it?” Justin clenched his fists in temper.
“It is worth searching the outbuildings over there anyway. It won’t hurt,” Niall replied with a shrug.
“I think they have been searched already,” Justin replied.
“Well, we can search them again,” Niall huffed, and set off to find the others.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Justin sighed when Aaron appeared in the doorway of the outbuilding in the orphanage’s garden, and slowly shook his head.
“Reuben it is then,” Justin murmured.
Together with his colleagues, Justin made his way to Reuben’s house, at the back of the vicarage. It was a small, ramshackle old building that at first glance, looked unoccupied. When nobody answered Justin’s knock, Angus lifted the latch on Reuben’s front door. It swung silently inward.
Justin peered into the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust.
“It’s empty,” he sighed.
“Well that didn’t take long to search,” Niall murmured when the men had finished poring through the meagre contents within.
Aside from a rickety table and solitary chair, the only items of furniture in the room were an unkempt bed and a small dresser which contained very little apart from a couple of changes of clothing. There was absolutely nothing else. No books, no broadsheets, no hobbies of any kind. Nothing.
“What does the man do with his time?” Oliver asked in confusion. “How can anybody live like this, especially if they don’t socialise?”
“Keep an eye on the comings and goings at the orphanage,” Justin murmured with a nod out of the window.
From his position he had a perfect view of the orphanage’s front door. Together with his colleagues they watched the front door suddenly open and Elizabeth, the cook, hurry down the front steps.
Justin removed his timepiece and looked down at it.
“Five o’clock on the dot,” he informed his colleagues.
“Damn,” Phillip whispered.
“He can also see the church from here,” Oliver murmured.
“Where is Callum?” Justin asked suddenly.
“He is helping Weeks search the villager’s houses,” Angus informed him. “What worries me is where is Reuben?”
“He might know something and be hiding in case he gets into trouble,” Justin warned.
“Or he might be culpable for it,” Niall murmured, saying what they were all thinking.
“Where is the vicar?” Oliver murmured with a heavy sigh.
“We have to get into that church. We know there is nothing here, or at the orphanage. The only other place to search is the garden and woods around here, and the church,” Justin whispered.
“Your gut is telling you there is something in the church,” Angus said. It wasn’t a question.
“You can do what you like, but nothing is going to stop me getting into that church right now. Something is going on in or around that building, I am sure of it,” Justin muttered. He walked out before anybody could reply.
Keeping close to the trees, Justin circled around the tall stone building, eyeing the windows and rear door of the church for signs of forced entry before he approached the door. Quietly, he turned the old brass knob and pushed his way into the building.
Vanessa had never felt pain like it. Her head ached, her chest ached, her back ached. She struggled to breathe past the suffocating dust that had settled over her. She tried to prise her eyes open but found herself staring at brickwork only inches from the end of her nose. It itched, but when she tried to scratch it, she realised the numbness in her fingers was caused by tight bindings around her wrists that stopped her from moving.
Vanessa closed her eyes and began to pray. At first, her mind was blessedly numb, but only for a moment. When her prayers were over, her thoughts returned, and brought with them a terrifying dose of reality that was full of panic, fear, and a terror so intense it was arresting.
She knew immediately who was responsible for putting her in this tiny space, wherever she was, and tying her hands together. She wished now she had not been so gullible as to believe in the honesty of people she really didn’t know very much, especially him.
But I know Justin, and he is trustworthy, a small voice inside her wailed.
Like a shining beacon of light in a long, dark tunnel, the mental image of Justin hovered in the recesses of her mind. Just the thought of him was enough to steady her. She latched on to the thought that he would know she had disappeared by now and would be searching for her. That reassurance was tempered, though, by the knowledge that she might not be alive when he found her. There were so many things she wanted to say to him that she knew if he appeared before her right now she would start babbling and not stop for several hours at least. He would undoubtedly be angry with her for having left the house without him, but she would have to accept his fury as just. He had told her to stay indoors. Foolishly, she hadn’t listened to him. The situation she was in was entirely her fault, nobody else’s. If she hadn’t been so determined to prove she didn’t need Justin in her life, she wouldn’t be in this mess.
I need to stay calm. I need to stay calm. I need to stay calm, she chanted over and over in her head when panic began to suffuse her again.
To her horror, a loud scuffling movement just above her head was accompanied by a startled squeak from someone else. Vanessa’s heart lurched. She wasn’t sure whether she should find solace in the fact she wasn’t alone. What was happening, she couldn’t see, but it sounded to her like someone was protesting about having to do something.
The dragging of chains sounded loud in the claustrophobic space. She wished she could see. It was so very dark that it was like being confined in the pit of Hell. She couldn’t move but knew there was something behind her and it wasn’t a wall. She dreaded to think what it was.
Dank was all about her, and the most pervading cold she had ever felt in her life. Even so, she was alive, and for that she could only be eternally grateful.
When silence settled once more, Vanessa glanced around her. Tipping her head back, she looked above her head. She knew she was lying down on something; it appeared in some sort of confined space. It smelled of mould and was full of dust and cobwebs. When she saw nothing but blackness, she wriggled around a bit only to gasp when something bit painfully into her hip. Shifting again to ease the discomfort, she edged toward the empty space above her head. By shuffling and wriggling around she could strain against the cruel bonds and peer into the small room beyond.
She was shocked when her gaze immediately fell upon a small, frail creature crouched on the floor against the far wall. Her hair was wild, her clothing, dirty and unkempt. What was most disturbing was the terrified look on the young woman’s familiar face. Vanessa wanted to call out to her, if only to let her know she was not alone but had no idea where their captor was. She couldn’t see him in the small square space. More importantly, she couldn’t hear him either, but he had been there a moment ago, if only to move Jemima onto the floor.
Sick with dread for the moment he would return, Vanessa remained silent and watched to see what their captor did when he returned.
Justin and his men walked quietly through the church. The rood screen, chancery, small ante-room at the back of the altar, and kitchen beyond all proved empty.
“There is a door at the far end that might lead somewhere,” Niall whispered. It wasn’t through reverence, but fear of discovery.
While they suspected the vicar wouldn’t object to them searching for a kidnap victim in the church, they didn’t want to alert Reuben to their presence should he be in the building.
“There is nothing in here,” Angus murmured, brushing dust off his fingers as he closed the door to the store cupboard at the back of the kitchen.
“Let’s try the other end of the building then,” Oliver suggested.
Justin, angered by his defeat, scoured every nook and cranny for sign of something, anything, being dislodged or disturbed. By the time they reached the door Niall stood beside they were all tense and on edge.