Abby opened the door wider and let Hannah in, ignoring the looks from the other people outside. She saw the cameraman roll his eyes and he and his mate walked over to the wall and sat down. Hannah closed the door behind her. Abby led her to the living room.
‘I don’t want to talk on camera,’ Abby said. ‘Can you do that? Can you just write something?’
Hannah looked around the room. ‘I’m a TV reporter but I guess I can do that.’ She smiled at Abby. She didn’t look very old, maybe mid-twenties, but she seemed confident, like she knew what she was doing. ‘But TV reaches more people, you know,’ she said and shrugged. ‘It’s up to you.’ She walked to the window and picked up a photo frame. ‘Is this Beth? She’s beautiful.’
Abby took the photo from her and wondered if she was doing the right thing. ‘What do you want?’ she asked.
‘You called me. I thought-’
‘No,’ Abby said. ‘I mean what do you want me to do? How does this work? Does it help? Have you ever reported on something like this-’ Abby stopped. She was asking the woman all these questions but she didn’t even know what she wanted from it.
Hannah walked to the settee and sat down. ‘I can’t tell you what to do. I can tell you that if you want to do this to get your message out, then the best way is to give me an interview on camera. More people watch TV than read the paper. We can record something; it’s not going to go out live.’
‘You think it’ll help?’ Abby asked again.
‘Yes,’ Hannah said, pressing her lips together. ‘I think it will. The more people who see this, the more likely Beth will be found.’ She leaned forward and smiled at Abby. ‘I know you did a press conference with the police but they won’t keep showing that. It sucks but you need to keep giving them something new or else people lose interest. It’s sad but true.’
Abby ran her hand across her forehead.
‘So?’ Hannah said. ‘Should I bring the guys in?’
Hannah thanked Abby and walked to the door, telling her to call her anytime if she wanted to talk again. Abby felt sick. She didn’t want to believe what the woman had said to her, but why would she make up something like that? Throughout the interview she wished someone would come in and tell her she was doing the right thing, or even that she was wrong and put a stop to it. She wished Paul would come home or Jen would call her back. She wished Gardner would show up and tell her he’d found Beth. But no one came and Hannah asked her question after question while the two men stood there looking uninterested.
Hannah tried to shake her hand again but Abby ignored her and as she closed the door she heard one of the guys say, ‘It would’ve been better if she’d cried.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
‘It was revealed this afternoon that police would be using divers in the search for Beth Henshaw, suggesting that hopes for finding her alive are fading. I spoke to Beth’s mother, Abby Henshaw, earlier in what was an emotional interview.’
Helen watched the scene cut away to Abby Henshaw. She sat with her hands on her knees. The reporter’s voice, off-screen, was soothing but it sounded fake. Abby’s eyes darted around. She looked nervous. She looked awful.
‘What went through your mind when you realised Beth had gone?’ the reporter asked.
Helen shook her head. It was a stupid question. This woman clearly wasn’t a mother. Helen knew what she would feel. She knew she wouldn’t be thinking, she’d just feel her heart being torn out.
Abby sat there without speaking for a few seconds, she glanced at the camera for a split second and then looked away again. ‘I just...’ she started. ‘I didn’t...’ Another look at the lens. ‘I didn’t believe it. I didn’t want to. I thought maybe I was wrong. That I was confused. I wanted to be wrong. I couldn’t understand it.’
‘And how do you feel now? What’s gone through your mind over the past day?’
Abby shook her head. ‘I feel guilty,’ she said. ‘I feel like I should’ve stopped it. I keep thinking is it my fault?’ She looked at the reporter. ‘I just wish that...’
‘Wish what, Abby?’
‘I wish... I just want her home. I just want Beth home. Whoever has her, please, just bring her home.’ Abby closed her eyes.
‘The police have been searching throughout the area, they’ve appealed for witnesses to come forward but so far no one has provided them with anything. No one has seen Beth. There’ve been no sightings, no witnesses. Do you think the police are doing enough?’
Abby looked confused. ‘Yes, they’ve been... I’m sure they’re doing everything they can-’
‘I’ve been told the police are going to start searching local rivers and waterways, that police divers are being brought in. Do you think this is an indication of where they think the investigation is going? Have they suggested to you that they’re changing the focus of their search?’
‘What?’ Abby asked and looked around her at the people off-screen. ‘What are you talking about? The police are still looking for my daughter. Beth is still alive. Someone out there has her and they’re going to find her.’
The scene cut back to the reporter standing outside the Henshaws’ house. ‘An emotional scene, I’m sure you’ll agree. Since I spoke to Abby Henshaw a few hours ago, police have confirmed that as well as the police divers, they will be continuing their search on land of local areas with a team of over a hundred police officers, as well as having the cooperation of forces across the country. So perhaps not all hope is lost yet.’
The picture cut back to the studio. ‘Hannah Jones, in Redcar. In other news...’
Helen switched off the TV. She wondered if the police really thought the baby was dead and how long they’d keep searching. She wondered how that reporter could sleep at night. And she wondered why Abby Henshaw hadn’t cried once.
Paul was still gone when Gardner finally called Abby back. She wasn’t sure how many times she’d called him. How many messages she’d left.
‘Is it true?’ she asked, before he could say anything. ‘You’re checking rivers. You’re looking for her body? Is it true?’
She heard him sigh. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘We’ve started a search using police divers but that doesn’t mean we think she’s dead. We’re just covering everything we can.’
Abby’s anger finally broke and she started to cry. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to hear it from that fucking reporter?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Gardner said. ‘I really am. The information wasn’t officially released.’
Abby wiped her face with her sleeve. ‘Have you found anything?’
‘No. We’re still canvassing the local area. We’re still working with forces across the country. We haven’t stopped looking. We won’t stop until we find her. Remember that.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
It was early on Thursday morning when Gardner arrived at the Henshaws’. Paul answered the door and let him in without a word, leading him into the kitchen. He took a seat as if he was waiting for the all too familiar speech to begin. No leads, nothing new to report, hang in there.
Gardner wondered why Abby hadn’t run down the stairs like she usually did. Perhaps she was finally sleeping. He hadn’t spoken to her since the incident with the reporter. Why would anyone suggest to an agonised mother that her baby was likely to be dead? He knew why. Ratings. To get a reaction from Abby that would make good television. The media were the scum of the earth. And yet part of him couldn’t help admit she’d been right. Most of his team had lost hope. It had only been three days but in most cases like this, forty-eight hours was the window of hope. After that things usually didn’t turn out so well. And by bringing in the divers perhaps he was making a statement to the world that he agreed with them. The truth was he’d brought them in as a formality, to cover all bases, but he hadn’t given up hope himself. Someone out there had taken Beth Hens
haw and he didn’t believe they’d taken her to kill her. It didn’t make sense to him, didn’t feel right. But now he was there to tell Abby what they’d found. And his hope was drifting away.
Paul motioned for Gardner to sit down but he remained by the door.
‘What is it?’ Paul asked, his fists clenching. ‘What? Has something happened?’
‘Is Abby here?’ Gardner asked, looking around the room, wanting to see anything but the eyes of the man in front of him.
‘She’s asleep.’
Gardner opened his mouth but closed it quickly and moved towards him. ‘You should go and get her,’ he said.
Paul frowned. ‘Why? What’s going on? Tell me.’
Gardner rested a hand on Paul’s shoulder, cleared his throat and exhaled loudly. ‘There was a body found this morning,’ he said.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gardner watched as Paul’s face froze for a second and then what seemed like all of his breath came rushing out. His eyes darted around the kitchen, as if his mind was furiously trying to process the information.
‘She appears to be about the right age,’ Gardner continued and took a seat across from Paul. ‘According to preliminary results she’s been dead over a week, which would suggest it’s not Beth but...’ Gardner stopped. He didn’t need to go into details now. Didn’t need to tell the man that a body in the water will decompose at a different rate to one found outside. ‘There’ve been no reports of another missing child of that age in the area so to be sure we need to do a DNA comparison.’
Paul raised his hand to his mouth and swallowed hard. Gardner stood and found a glass in the cupboard beneath the sink. Filling it with water, he handed it to Paul. Paul took it from him with shaky hands but didn’t attempt to lift it to his mouth. Gardner sat next to him and folded and unfolded his hands.
‘I know this is hard. But I think you should get your wife.’
Paul dropped the glass onto the table, spilling the liquid across the tablecloth. ‘Can I see her?’ he asked.
Gardner shook his head. ‘No.’
Paul looked directly at him and gave him a questioning look. Gardner licked his lips and wished he’d gotten a glass of water for himself. ‘I’m afraid a visual identification would be impossible. The child was found in the river.’
‘Jesus,’ Paul said and rushed to the sink, dry heaving over the dirty dishes. Gardner stood and moved closer to Paul. Paul turned back to Gardner, his eyes red and wet. ‘You need a DNA sample?’
‘I really think you should get your wife. I don’t want her finding out about this from anyone else.’
Paul shook his head. ‘No. I don’t want Abby to know unless she has to. If you need DNA, I can do it.’
Gardner’s jaw clenched. ‘That won’t be necessary, Mr Henshaw. I know it’s not my place but I really think you should tell your wife.’
‘No,’ Paul said again. ‘No. She doesn’t need to know yet. It’ll kill her. Let me do the test. Let me do it and then if it’s not Beth Abby never needs to know. Hasn’t she been through enough already?’
Gardner blew out a breath. ‘I realise that you just want to protect Abby-’
‘So why won’t you let me?’ Paul said. ‘Why won’t you let me take the test?’
They both turned when they heard Abby walk into the room.
‘Because you’re not Beth’s father,’ she said.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Simon Abbott closed his eyes and ignored the stewardess’ questions. He hoped if he kept his eyes closed he’d be able to go to sleep, God knew he needed it, but it was unlikely. He’d been in Brisbane barely an hour before he got the call from the police. He had planned to keep his phone turned off and just sleep for as long as possible before his next flight to Auckland. But habit, or the fear of missing something, a symptom of modern life, made him turn it on. He had a couple of missed calls - from Abby and an unknown number, the police he guessed - and a message urging him to call a DI Gardner as soon as possible. The mention of Beth’s name caused him to panic. Receiving a message like that from the police was bad enough, but the fact that no one knew that Beth was his daughter, or no one except for him and Abby, made it even worse.
The stewardess moved on and Simon opened his eyes. He was desperate for a cigarette. He had no idea what was waiting for him when he got home. All the copper had said was that Beth was missing and Abby was hurt. That was it. No details, no hint that he was a suspect. And why would he be? He was a mile high when it happened. But he wasn’t stupid. In situations like this it was usually the father who was under suspicion. And then of course there was his past. It had nothing to do with this but he’d bet they’d have dragged it up by now.
He wondered what Abby would’ve said to them. How much she’d told them. He wondered if her husband knew yet, if the shit had totally hit the fan.
Gardner had said Abby was hurt. That was it. He’d explain more when they talked in person. At that point Simon’s heart had stuttered. He had images of Abby’s body laid out on a slab – ‘Abby’s hurt’ being a euphemism for dead. But he realised she must’ve been okay. How else would they know about him? Abby was the only person who could’ve told them. But why? Was it just so they could bring him home or did they actually think he was involved?
He rubbed his eyes as the plane took off. He couldn’t decide what was worse right now: the not knowing what was waiting for him when he finally got home or the fact that he’d spent ninety-percent of the last few days on a plane. Manchester to Dubai, Dubai to Brisbane; a brief break spent sitting waiting in the airport on stand-by, worrying himself to death, and then back again. Flying out hadn’t been too bad, he’d managed to sleep a little; it was just the jet-lag he had to contend with. But there was no chance of sleeping this time. Part of him thought that all of this was some weird nightmare. That he was actually in his hotel room and the travel had got to him in a seriously fucked up way.
He really wished he would wake up.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The two men turned and looked at Abby standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. Paul’s face was frozen in shock. Gardner thought she probably shouldn’t have told him like that, with him in the room. Her husband deserved better than that. But what was more important now? He’d bet Beth was all that mattered to her.
‘I’m sorry, Paul,’ Abby said. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She turned to Gardner. ‘You found something?’
‘Yes, we found-’
‘You knew,’ Paul said, interrupting.
Gardner looked up at Paul but didn’t speak. He wondered why that was his first question, that someone else knew first. Maybe it was humiliation. Maybe it was shock.
‘This isn’t right,’ Paul said. ‘Please Abby, tell me this isn’t right.’ Abby stepped closer to Paul and reached out to him. ‘Tell me!’ he shouted.
Abby closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Paul,’ she said.
Gardner looked at Abby, thinking back to that first day, to the interview when she’d told him about Simon, revealed he was Beth’s father. She was sitting about as far away from him as she was now, the same pained expression on her face.
‘Who’s Simon Abbott?’ Gardner asked.
Abby licked her lips. ‘He’s the man I had an affair with,’ she started, her voice cracking. ‘I’m sorry. It’s such a mess. I know I should’ve said something before. But I didn’t want to lose Paul. I just wanted to keep my family together but I’ve messed it up. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’
He sank back into his chair, sighing. ‘Why did you bring up Simon’s name now, Abby?’ he asked.
‘I told you. I had an affair with him.’
‘Had. As in past tense?’
Abby nodded. He waited, expecting her to expand on the subject. To tell him how it had ended badly, that he was ins
ane, that he was the one who’d done this. But she didn’t. She didn’t say another word. He looked at Lawton. She looked like he felt. Shocked.
‘Do you think he could’ve done this?’ he asked.
Abby shook her head. ‘No. No he wouldn’t do this. I know him. He wouldn’t hurt Beth.’
Gardner felt that unsettling feeling in his stomach. It was likely that the answer to his next question would be the key to all of this. He knew how these things went. ‘Abby, is Simon Abbott Beth’s father?’
Abby squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath. When she opened them she still wouldn’t look at him but she nodded. ‘Yes,’ she said her voice barely more than a whisper. Gardner opened his mouth but Abby cut him off. ‘He didn’t do this,’ she said, finally looking at him. ‘He wouldn’t.’
‘Statistically, most abduction cases are committed by non-custodial parents. If Mr Abbott couldn’t get access to his daughter.’ Gardner stopped and looked Abby in the eye. ‘Was he aware that he was Beth’s father?’
Abby nodded. ‘Yes. But he didn’t need to... He has access. We meet every couple of weeks when he isn’t working. He works abroad a lot of the time.’
Gardner studied Abby, trying to understand what she was implying. ‘So you were still having a relationship with him?’
‘No. Not like that. We ended it when I found out I was pregnant.’ Abby tugged at the sleeves of her jumper. ‘Paul wanted children and I never wanted to leave him. It wasn’t like that. When I got pregnant, Simon and I agreed that we’d stop seeing each other. That Beth would be brought up as Paul’s but he would see her regularly.’
‘And he was fine with that? Another man bringing up his child?’ Gardner asked, trying to get his head around it. What kind of person would just agree to something like that?
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