Stolen

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Stolen Page 10

by Rebecca Muddiman


  ‘He knew that’s what I wanted and he agreed to it.’

  ‘That’s very noble of him,’ Gardner said. ‘How long had you known Mr Abbott?’

  ‘About eleven, twelve years,’ she said. Gardner’s eyebrows rose. ‘We used to go out a long time ago. He was my first proper boyfriend. After my parents died he was everything to me. We were together for two years and then he left to work in Hong Kong. We kept in touch for a little while but...’ Abby shrugged. ‘A couple of years ago I ran into him again. He’d moved back to Saltburn so we met up a few times to catch up and things just...’ She looked at Gardner for help, hoping he’d fill in the blanks himself. ‘I never wanted to hurt Paul. And I’ve never stopped loving him, it was just...’ Abby shook her head. ‘I don’t know. I suppose Simon and I never really finished things properly. I always thought he’d come back after a few months and we’d just pick up where we left off.’ Abby looked back at Gardner and her cheeks burned. ‘He wouldn’t do this. He loves her.’

  ‘Does your husband know?’

  Abby shook her head. ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure,’ he asked.

  ‘I’m positive,’ Abby said.

  Gardner nodded. ‘I’ll try and track down Mr Abbott.’ He stood.

  ‘Please don’t tell Paul,’ Abby said. ‘Please. Not yet.’

  Gardner opened his eyes again, the clock on the kitchen wall loudly ticked out the seconds that no one spoke. He looked at Paul bending over, his hands gripping the back of the kitchen chair. His breathing was laboured and for a moment Gardner thought the man might keel over. Abby turned to Gardner with a pleading look but he said nothing. What could he say? He wished he’d never involved himself in the lie. He’d been in Paul’s shoes himself. Not exactly the same, thank God, but still. He’d been betrayed, been lied to, cheated on. Why had he taken Abby’s side? His job wasn’t to lie for her; it was to find out the truth. To find the men who’d raped her and who had taken Beth. That was it.

  Abby walked over to Paul and put a hand on his arm. He didn’t look at her. ‘Paul,’ she started. ‘Please, look at me.’ She waited but he didn’t respond, didn’t move at all. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I never meant to hurt you. I didn’t-’

  Paul’s head snapped up. ‘Who is it?’ he asked.

  Abby swallowed and shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said.

  ‘Of course it fucking matters,’ he shouted. ‘Of course it does. He’s Beth’s-’ Paul stopped, clearly unable to say the word.

  Abby looked at Gardner for help again. He knew there was a risk that Paul would go after Simon once he found out. That he’d want to go over there and break his legs, and who could blame him? But Gardner doubted it’d happen. Paul Henshaw didn’t seem like the kind of man capable of breaking anyone’s legs, whether they’d slept with his wife or not.

  Gardner nodded at Abby and she turned back to Paul. She took a moment and Paul stared, waiting for her to talk.

  ‘Is it someone from work?’ Paul asked. ‘Someone who’s been published? Instead of me, the failed fucking writer?’

  Abby shook her head. ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘Then who?’

  ‘His name’s Simon,’ she said quietly. ‘Simon Abbott.’

  Gardner watched Paul for a reaction but he just stared at her. If he had any idea about Simon, any idea about the affair, he was a damn good actor.

  ‘We used to go out when I was a teenager,’ Abby said. ‘I hadn’t seen him for years and we bumped into each other. We just...’ Abby stopped, realising her husband probably didn’t want the details.

  ‘So what? You just picked up where you left off?’ Paul asked. ‘Never mind the fact you’re married.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Abby said again. ‘I never wanted to hurt you-’

  ‘Well you fucked that up, didn’t you?’ Paul said.

  Gardner looked at the floor. He didn’t want to be there. He didn’t need to hear this. To see their marriage fall apart. Both Abby and Paul had stopped speaking. He wanted to leave.

  ‘Does he know?’ Paul asked. ‘Does he know he’s Beth’s father?’ Abby just nodded and Paul pulled a face. ‘So what? He didn’t even want her so she got me instead? The consolation prize.’

  ‘No it’s not like that,’ Abby said. ‘We... I wanted you to bring Beth up. I wanted you to be her father.’

  ‘But I’m not, am I?’ he said. Abby closed her eyes to stop the tears. ‘Why didn’t he want her?’

  ‘He did,’ Abby started. ‘He’s not around. He works abroad a lot. He sees her sometimes.’

  Paul took in a deep breath and a sob came out. ‘So...’ He looked at Gardner this time. ‘So he took her? He wanted her back so he took her?’

  Gardner opened his mouth but he paused before speaking. Abby had told him that her arrangement with Simon was amicable. That it’d been worked out to suit them both, that he was a good guy. Then there was the fact he was getting on a plane when it happened. But he still had doubts. He knew the statistics. He knew that people changed their minds. For the time being Simon Abbott was top of his list in terms of suspects but Paul Henshaw didn’t need to know that.

  ‘I need to speak to Mr Abbott,’ he said. ‘There’s no evidence at this stage to suggest he was involved.’

  Paul let out a desperate laugh and rubbed his hands across his face. ‘I can’t believe this,’ he said. He stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, looking from Gardner to Abby. ‘I can’t deal with this,’ he said and walked towards the door, pushing past Abby.

  ‘Paul,’ she called after him and started to follow. The door slammed as she got to there. She opened it to see her husband reversing out of the drive. ‘Paul,’ she shouted again but Gardner led her back inside, out of the way of stares from neighbours and calls from reporters.

  ‘Let him go,’ he said. ‘He needs time.’

  Gardner thought about when Annie had told him. He’d had no idea. Complete bolt of lightning. He’d stormed out of the house, driven off and then stopped at the side of the road thinking of all the things he should’ve said. The names he wanted to call her, the questions he wanted to ask. He stayed out all night and then managed to avoid her for two days after. By the time he worked up the courage to finally speak to her she’d already started packing her things.

  Gardner waited a few seconds before speaking. ‘You heard us talking earlier?’

  She nodded. ‘About DNA.’

  ‘Did you hear the rest?’

  Abby shook her head slightly and then she seemed to pale. ‘Have you found her?’

  ‘We found a body. A baby.’

  ‘Oh God,’ Abby said, her hands curling into themselves. ‘Is it her?’

  Gardner shook his head. ‘We don’t know. I think it’s unlikely, the body appears to have been in the water for at least a week but,’ he looked away, ‘we need to make sure. We need to do the test so we can be sure.’

  Abby nodded. ‘Okay,’ she said and stood up. ‘I’ll get my shoes.’ She walked towards the front door and looked around like she was lost.

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ Gardner said. ‘We’ve got a sample already.’

  Abby looked back at him and nodded, her hands were shaking and she tucked them into her pockets.

  ‘I’m sorry, I should’ve been clearer. I only came because I wanted to let you know in person after what happened with that reporter. I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry about Paul.’

  Abby just shook her head. ‘When will we know?’ she asked.

  ‘Hopefully within twenty four hours,’ he said. He’d be putting as much pressure on the lab as possible. He didn’t want to wait either. He looked down at his shoes. He needed to go, needed to get on with finding Beth, but he felt guilty at leaving Abby alone.

  As if reading his mind Abby turned to
the sink, busying herself with rinsing out dishes. ‘Thanks for telling me,’ she said.

  Gardner wanted to offer some kind of comfort but nothing seemed appropriate. He wondered if she’d be alright on her own. If Paul would come back. With nothing to say he pushed the chair back in to the table and walked to the doorway.

  ‘I’ll let you know as soon as I hear anything,’ he said and watched Abby’s head nod. He turned and walked to the front door and as he left he heard Abby crying.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Helen glanced over her shoulder at the TV as she folded her washing.

  ‘...From what I understand, the location in Stockton, close to the Tees Barrage, had not been a part of the police’s initial search. It was in fact a tip-off from a member of the public that led police to the part of the river where the body was found. Police have not yet confirmed the body is that of eight-month old Beth Henshaw who went missing earlier this week but this could be a tragic end to what has been a massive search for the missing girl.’

  The reporter looked over her shoulder as a car pulled up. DI Gardner climbed out and walked quickly towards the station.

  ‘DI Gardner,’ Hannah shouted and jogged towards him. The camera jiggled as her team followed. ‘DI Gardner,’ she said again to his back. ‘Can you confirm that it’s Beth Henshaw?’

  Detective Gardner ignored her, along with the throng of other reporters, and headed for the door.

  ‘Do you think it’s her?’ another reporter shouted and jostled Hannah out of the way of her own camera.

  ‘Is there any suggestion that her parents could be involved? Is it true Abby Henshaw had an affair?’ a man’s voice shouted over the noise. The other reporters seemed to quiet down. Gardner turned around and glared in the general direction of the crowd.

  Helen put the washing basket down and moved closer to the TV.

  ‘The body of a child was recovered from the River Tees this morning. So far the identity of the child has not been confirmed. I’ll make no further comment at this time,’ Gardner said and walked away, letting the door slam behind him.

  Helen stood, transfixed by the television, her arms around herself. A tear slid down her cheek and she wiped it away with the palm of her hand. That poor baby, she thought. That poor mother, losing her child.

  Helen turned off the TV and walked over to the cot in the corner of the room where her baby lay so peacefully, so unaware of the tragedy in the world. Helen bent down and put her hand on her daughter’s chest, feeling the life in her body.

  ‘I will never let anything happen to you,’ she said. ‘I’ll never let anyone hurt you.’

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Simon got off the train in Middlesbrough and dragged his case behind him, trying to dodge the other passengers milling about. He wasn’t sure whether he’d been expecting a police escort when he arrived but there didn’t seem to be anyone waiting for him. He called the police station from the airport, letting them know he was back in the country, that he’d be home in a couple of hours. Someone promised to pass the message on to DI Gardner. He wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to go straight to the station or if they’d arrange to speak to him later. His head was pounding. He’d managed to grab an hour or two’s sleep on the plane but in the end he thought it’d made him feel worse. The desire to sleep was only defeated by the desire to find out what was going on.

  He’d tried to call Abby from the train but it’d gone through to voicemail. He was about to try again when he realised he didn’t know what was happening. Was Abby blaming him? Would she really think he’d taken their daughter? Gardner said she’d been hurt. Maybe she was in the hospital and couldn’t answer.

  He’d go to the police station, speak to Gardner, and find out what the hell was going on. Then he’d find Abby. God only knew if her husband had found about him, about Beth. But right now he didn’t care. His daughter was missing. Screw Abby’s husband.

  Simon walked out of the train station and headed towards the police station. As he stood alone in front of the new building he felt all his muscles tense. He was about to find out what was going on. He hadn’t heard anything since he was in Brisbane. That seemed like a lifetime ago. And a lot could happen in a lifetime.

  He took a deep breath and walked into the station. He waited for the desk sergeant to come off the phone and then leaned on the counter.

  ‘Simon Abbott,’ he said. ‘I’m here to see DI Gardner.’

  He was told to take a seat and someone would be right with him. He collapsed into the nearest chair and tried to stop his eyes from closing.

  ‘Simon Abbott?’

  Simon opened his eyes and looked up at the man in front of him. He sat up straight. ‘Yeah.’

  ‘I’m DI Gardner,’ he said and offered a hand. At first Simon thought he was offering to help him out of the chair and wondered just how terrible he looked, how many years all the flying had aged him. But then he realised he was supposed to shake it.

  ‘If you’d like to follow me,’ Gardner said and started walking away, holding a door open for Simon and his suitcase.

  Simon looked at Gardner as they walked along the corridor, trying to gauge the situation from his face. But he couldn’t tell. As he walked to the interview room he didn’t know what to expect. If he was a suspect or not. If he was about to be told his daughter was fine or that she was dead.

  Chapter Thirty

  Gardner looked Abbott up and down and immediately thought how different he was to Paul Henshaw. Clearly Abby Henshaw didn’t have a type. Apart from both being tall, the two men were opposites. Where Paul was rake thin, Simon was broad. Paul wore glasses and had a bookish quality and Simon looked like he went mountain biking and worked with his hands.

  He watched as Simon rubbed his eyes and settled into the chair. He looked exhausted. And who could blame him.

  ‘Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee?’

  Simon shook his head. ‘No. Thank you.’

  He looked back at Simon and wondered how to play it. There was the possibility that the man had abducted his daughter but then again it was possible he was as innocent as Abby had insisted.

  ‘Can you just tell me what’s going on?’ Simon said. ‘I mean, what happened?’ He sat forward, suddenly animated. ‘Have you found her? Have you..?’

  ‘Your daughter’s still missing,’ Gardner said and watched as Simon paled. ‘Abby Henshaw was attacked and Beth was taken from her car.’

  ‘Abby,’ Simon whispered and his eyes started darting around. ‘Is she okay? Abby? Is she alright? What did they do to her?’

  ‘She’s okay.’ Gardner wondered how much of a lie that sentence was. ‘Her car was forced off the road. Two men forced her into a van and raped her.’

  Simon made a noise and for a moment Gardner thought the man was going to be sick. He stopped and waited. Simon took a breath and his hands curled into fists.

  ‘Have you got them? The men?’ he asked.

  Gardner shook his head. ‘No. Not yet. We have descriptions from Abby but so far we haven’t-’

  ‘And what about Beth?’ Simon said. ‘What did they do to her?’ He looked like he was going to blow any minute.

  ‘Abby said the men left Beth in the car. When she returned to the car with a police officer Beth was gone.’

  Simon frowned, the confusion etched on his face. ‘So someone else took Beth? Those men didn’t take her?’

  Gardner looked down at the table. He wished he knew. At the outset he’d been optimistic that Abby’s attack and Beth disappearing were unrelated. But that clearly wasn’t the case. There was someone else. He looked back at Simon. ‘We believe that’s the case, yes,’ he said.

  Simon squeezed the top of his nose. ‘What about Abby?’ he said. ‘I tried to call her earlier. Is she still in hospital?’

 
Gardner shook his head. ‘No, she’s at home,’ he said. ‘You haven’t spoken to her at all?’

  ‘No,’ Simon said.

  Gardner nodded. That was probably a good thing. ‘I realise you must be tired and I know this will be difficult but I need to ask you a few questions.’

  ‘You think I took her,’ Simon said. A statement not a question.

  Gardner looked back blankly. ‘You were out of the country at the time of the incident. I know you were already on the plane when Abby was attacked.’

  ‘But you still think I could be involved? That I wanted to get Beth?’ Simon sat leaning forward, head in hands.

  ‘Tell me about your relationship with Abby Henshaw,’ Gardner said.

  Simon looked up from behind his hands and sat back in his chair, his eyes barely open. Gardner had briefly considered waiting until Simon had slept before speaking to him. He couldn’t imagine what the round trip to New Zealand would do to your head. But he figured the tiredness, the jet-lag, might make Simon more open, less able to bullshit him.

  ‘She’s the mother of my child. We dated a long time ago, hadn’t seen each other in years, and then bumped into each other again a couple of years ago.’ He shrugged. ‘Things developed. We had an affair. Abby got pregnant and we decided it would be for the best if Beth was raised as her husband’s daughter.’

  ‘Why?’ Gardner asked.

  Simon looked away from Gardner. His jaw clenched. ‘Work. I travel a lot for work.’

  ‘A lot of parents work. And lots travel for work. They manage.’

  Simon sat forward again. ‘Do their kids manage though?’

  Gardner gave him a half smile. ‘So you decided Beth needed a stable environment with two parents?’

 

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