Gardner put the phone down and sat staring at the wall. Poor guy. His wife cheats on him, he finds out his daughter isn’t his, and then he’s the one who has to move in to a dive like the White Cliff.
He shuffled the papers in front of him and found the statements for the Henshaws’ bank accounts. Like Simon Abbott’s, there was nothing unusual there. But unlike Simon’s he wasn’t so much looking for large withdrawals but large debts instead. If the Henshaws were drowning, unable to keep up with mortgage payments, they might have a reason to stage their daughter’s kidnap. But there was nothing to suggest that. All the bills were paid on time and there was always a little spare at the end of the month. Plus there was a savings account with a tidy sum in it, though this was just in Abby’s name. He checked the date the account was opened and decided it was probably her inheritance. He’d considered money as a possible reason for Beth’s kidnap. It wasn’t a huge amount – twenty thousand – but to someone desperate it was probably enough to risk committing a crime for. The only fly in the ointment there was that there’d been no ransom demands, no contact from whoever was holding Beth.
He ran his fingers through his hair. The case was bugging him. Nothing was working. He didn’t believe that it was only chance Abby was on that road, that those men just happened to be there, that Beth was left in the car by mistake. It was planned. Someone wanted Beth and planned to take her, planned to get Abby out of the way. He didn’t believe that some stranger had just decided one day to run away with Beth Henshaw. He’d been thinking too much about the people who knew that Abby would be on that road that day – Abby, Paul, Jen. Jen’s builders? Abby swore that she hadn’t told Simon. Why would she? But maybe he was looking at it wrong. Maybe it wasn’t anyone Abby had told. Maybe someone had been watching her, following her. Maybe whoever had slashed her tyres? He thought about the break-in at Simon’s house. That was shortly after Abby’s car was damaged. Was it connected? Or was he just trying to make it connect?
Gardner bit his thumbnail. It was possible that the person who had Beth didn’t know Abby. That it was just chance in some way. They wanted a child. They saw Abby and Beth. They started following them, waiting for an opportunity. If it was a gang, that’d explain the men in the van. There were gangs who abducted babies, children, then sold them to desperate couples - or worse, sold them into prostitution or labour. They were pursuing that angle but so far hadn’t found anything.
Gardner closed his eyes. What else did he have? Who else? He was sure he could rule out any involvement of Abby herself. Paul had an alibi. He was at the shop when it happened, the CCTV proved it. There was no evidence he’d paid anyone to hurt his wife or take Beth. There was no evidence from his phone records that he’d been involved with anyone else either – all his calls were to or from Abby; Laura, his assistant at the shop; suppliers and other business contacts; and his dentist. Laura said she’d never seen him with anyone: there were no regular customers that stood out, no one she’d seen Paul with. Simon Abbott was the most obvious candidate. He had a motive. He’d admitted himself that he’d made a mistake letting Beth go. He’d been to Eastern Europe, possibly had contacts there. But he wasn’t convinced. If Simon had taken Beth, where was she now? It didn’t ring true with other cases like this. If another parent had taken a child they would just try and keep hidden, they wouldn’t come back.
Jen? He didn’t like her for it. True, she’d previously been involved with Paul Henshaw. Maybe she was jealous like Lawton suggested. It could be Abby had everything Jen wanted for herself. But again she had an alibi. The builders confirmed she’d been there all day. She was only gone a few minutes to stock up on tea bags and milk. And from the little time he’d spent with her he had to agree with Paul Henshaw – what would she do with a baby? He got the impression she was the most important person in her life and that didn’t leave much room for a baby. And even if she was jealous of the Henshaws’ relationship, he doubted she’d go after Beth. She was more likely to just pursue Paul.
Gardner looked at the clock. Jesus, was it really that late? It was too late now but tomorrow he’d speak to Jen again, dig a little deeper into her feelings about Paul. He’d look into the gang angle. And he’d visit Simon Abbott at home. Maybe he could still bring Beth home.
He stood up, put on his jacket, and headed for his car thinking about the test results that should’ve been back the next day. As he closed the car door he slumped back in his seat. There was a chance he wouldn’t be bringing Beth home at all.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Abby sat hunched on one end of the settee, Simon at the other end. She’d already given him the ins and outs of what had happened, leaving a few details out for his benefit and her own. She’d filled him in on the investigation, such as it was. And now she waited for the hard part. The blame, the responsibility, the guilt.
‘Why didn’t you call me?’ he asked.
‘I tried,’ Abby said, knowing that she hadn’t tried hard enough. ‘I tried to call you from the police station the day–’ Abby stopped. She hadn’t come up with a suitable euphemism yet. ‘I tried but Paul was there and I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell you that over the phone?’
‘I should’ve been here,’ he said and Abby wasn’t sure if he was blaming her for not calling him and getting him back as soon as it had happened or if he was talking to himself.
‘What if it’s her?’ Abby said.
Simon pulled her close to him. ‘They said it looked like the body had been in the water a week, right? So it can’t be Beth.’
‘But what if they’re wrong? They can’t be sure, can they? What if...?’ Abby dissolved into tears, turning her face into Simon’s chest. She couldn’t bear it. She couldn’t bear the waiting, the thoughts that came into her mind every time she closed her eyes. How could she live if Beth was gone? Her throat was tight as she sobbed. Simon held on tighter.
Abby woke in the early hours and found herself curled up against Simon on the settee. Her hair was still wet against her face from the tears. Simon shifted beside her.
‘Hey,’ he said. ‘I’m going to get a drink. You want anything?’
Abby shook her head and watched him walk into the kitchen. It was strange seeing him there, in her house. In Paul’s house. She stood up and moved to the armchair by the window.
‘This is my fault,’ Abby said when Simon came back in.
Simon frowned and shook his head. ‘What do you mean?’
‘If I’d told the truth from the start maybe none of this would’ve happened.’
‘Why?’
Abby felt herself stop short. She had no idea. She knew that deep inside it made no sense and yet she still felt like she was to blame for being a liar.
‘Now the truth is out are they any closer to finding Beth?’ Simon asked.
‘No, but if I’d never been unfaithful to Paul then maybe it wouldn’t have happened.’
‘If you hadn’t been unfaithful Beth wouldn’t be here at all.’
Abby closed her eyes. ‘I know that, but maybe this is some kind of punishment.’
Simon snorted. ‘From who? God? Even if there’d been no us, even if Beth was Paul’s, the fucker who took our daughter would’ve still taken her. The fuckers that hurt you –’ He stopped and caught his breath. ‘Nothing you did or didn’t do would change the situation, Abby. Nothing. What we did has nothing to do with it.’
Abby closed her eyes. ‘Maybe,’ she whispered. ‘But how could I have done this to him? How could I have hurt him like this?’
‘People have affairs all the time,’ he said. ‘I’m not saying it’s alright but it happens every day. And people get over it.’
‘No,’ Abby said. ‘No. Not Paul. You don’t understand. You don’t know what he’s been through. His parents-’
‘What? They broke up? So what? Who doesn’t?’
‘No, it’s different for him, for his family. His dad thought his mum was having an affair and tried to kill the guy,’ Abby said.
‘So what? You think it runs in the family? You think he’s going to come after me?’
Abby stood up and went to the window. ‘Don’t be stupid,’ she said. ‘His dad went to prison. His mum killed herself a year later. Overdosed. His grandparent’s brought him up.’
‘So he’s had a shitty life. A lot of people do.’ Abby shook her head at him. ‘But people don’t go around deciding to have affairs because they think their husbands or wives can handle it or not. They just happen. Things just happen.’
Abby looked at Simon. He always was pragmatic. Taking the job in Hong Kong made sense for his career; they could always keep in touch. Letting Paul bring up Beth as his own made more sense; he was often away travelling. And now this – reassuring Abby that she had done nothing to hurt Beth or make things worse. Abby reached for his hand and took a deep breath.
‘Did you ever regret our decision?’ she asked.
‘Every single day,’ he said.
She hadn’t expected that answer, not one so blunt anyway. Sure, she knew he loved Beth and the time he spent with her, but she never actually thought he’d want to be a full-time dad. He’d never told her that he wished things were different.
‘What? You thought seeing her once a fortnight was enough for me?’ he said.
‘But... You never said anything... We talked about it, we made the decision together. You didn’t want it.’
‘No, Abby, you didn’t want me to.’
Abby felt a stab in her chest. Why was he telling her this now? Why hadn’t he told her this before?
‘But,’ she said.
‘You didn’t want to leave Paul. You didn’t want Beth to have a part-time dad. You thought it was better this way so I agreed. And yes, maybe I thought you were right about me not being here all the time but that didn’t mean I didn’t want to try.’
‘But you agreed.’
‘For you. For you and Beth because that’s what you wanted. I love you,’ he said before correcting himself. ‘I loved you. I wanted what you wanted. If you’d told me you wanted for us to be a family then I’d have done it. But you chose Paul and I let you and Beth go.’ Simon stood, his back turned to Abby.
Abby stood. She had no idea he felt that way. She felt nauseous, like she’d ruined another life. Maybe they were right to take Beth away from her.
Simon turned back to face her and she felt a sudden chill. She knew it was impossible. Or she thought it was but...
She took a deep breath. ‘I already know the answer, but I have to ask,’ she said.
Simon stepped away from her. ‘What?’ he said. Abby looked down at her hands and tried to find the strength to finish asking him.
‘Are you asking me..? You think I took her?’
‘No, I know you would never do that,’ Abby said, her stomach tight.
‘Then why ask me?’ he said. Abby looked back at him and noticed the tears in his eyes.
‘I just wanted to hear you say it. I need to hear it. I didn’t know you felt like this... I just needed to be sure.’
Simon stumbled back and picked up his jacket from the chair. ‘Jesus.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. I don’t know why I asked. It was stupid.’
Simon walked away, opened the front door and stalked out, trying to slam it but Abby stood in the way.
‘Please don’t go, Simon,’ she begged. ‘I’m sorry.’
Simon walked to the end of the driveway and then stopped. ‘Call me when you hear something,’ he said wiping his face before walking away, leaving Abby alone on the doorstep.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Gardner stood looking at the red front door of Simon’s house, after knocking for a second time. He’d already spoken to Jen Harvey first thing. There was something strange about the woman. He was questioning her about the abduction of her best friend’s daughter and the woman kept flirting. Sure, it could’ve been nerves. Some people react like that in stressful situations, but it pissed him off regardless. When she’d finally clicked that he was treating her as a potential suspect she’d gotten frosty and had basically repeated what Paul Henshaw had told him that day – what the fuck would she do with a baby? She also had no interest in Paul Henshaw whatsoever. If she was honest she thought he was a stuck-up prick and wasn’t sure what she ever saw in him. She only played nice because of Abby.
He’d noticed the distinct lack of builders in the house and she explained they’d quit. Being questioned by police when all you were trying to do was earn a living apparently put some people off. He’d got contact details for them, just in case, and then left her to get on with finding replacements, saying he’d be in touch.
After a few moments he knocked on Simon’s door again and then stepped back, looking up to the first-floor windows. In the larger window the curtains were closed; in the smaller a mobile with what looked like ducks hanging from it swung gently in the breeze from the window, which was slightly ajar.
Gardner shifted his attention back to the door as he heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. The door opened a crack to reveal Simon in his boxers, squinting out at the daylight.
‘Mr Abbott,’ Gardner said. ‘Can I come in?’
Simon covered his eyes with his hand. ‘Sure.’ He rubbed his eyes and moved back, pulling the door wide open. As Gardner stepped into the hallway, Simon suddenly came to life. ‘What’s going on? Has something happened? Have you got the results?’
Gardner stood in the doorway and glanced around, listening for any sign that Beth was there. He turned back to Simon and his gut told him that he was looking at an innocent man. For starters, most kidnappers didn’t answer the door half asleep and in their underwear. Simon crossed his arms across his naked chest. When it became obvious that he wasn’t going to close the door and let him in properly until he knew what was going on, Gardner started to talk.
‘No, there’s no news yet. I just wanted to ask you a few more questions,’ he said.
Simon nodded and closed the door. ‘I’ll just get dressed. Go through,’ he said and pointed to the living room.
‘You mind if I look around?’ Gardner asked and Simon shrugged.
‘Feel free,’ he said and went back upstairs.
Gardner glanced around the hallway before following Simon. Each wall held dozens of framed photographs and Gardner wondered if they were Simon’s own work or someone else’s. At the top of the stairs there was one Gardner recognised, an arty picture of a street in Venice that an ex-girlfriend used to have in her bedroom. He wondered if that was an Abbott original.
The first door he came to led into the bathroom and it had no signs of a baby ever having been there; there were barely signs of anyone at all. Gardner wondered how much stuff babies would even have in the bathroom; he had no idea what they needed. He moved on to the back bedroom, which was being used as a studio. Innumerable pictures graced the walls and stood on and up against every available surface.
He was about to leave when one photo caught his eye. Abby and Beth smiled up at him from a beautifully framed picture. Beth looked maybe a couple of months old; he never could tell a baby’s age. Abby looked happy; completely different to the Abby Henshaw he had seen. They say women glow when they’re pregnant; he wouldn’t know himself, but from the look of it they glowed afterwards too. Gardner heard Simon moving behind him and put down the photograph and left the room.
At the front of the house were two more bedrooms. In the bigger, darker room, its curtains closed to the light of the day, Simon pulled on his trousers. Gardner headed for the smaller room. The walls were painted a soft yellow, with outlines of ducks and rabbits stencilled around the tops of them. An empty cot sat in the centre of the
room beneath the mobile he had seen from outside. Dozens of toys were piled up against the wall in one corner and a small set of drawers held several tiny items of clothes. Gardner wondered how often Beth stayed with Simon, how Abby would’ve explained it to Paul, and how Simon really felt about it. How would he feel if he had to step back and watch someone else bring up his child? If he had to wait weeks until he could see her? He doubted he’d feel very good about it.
He left the nursery and stood in the doorway of Simon’s room. As Simon pulled back the curtains, he caught Gardner’s eye.
‘You manage to get any sleep?’ Gardner asked.
‘Couple of hours,’ Simon said.
‘Sorry. I should’ve thought. Come later in the day.’
Simon nodded and sat on the edge of the bed to put on his socks. Gardner took the opportunity to look around. This bedroom was much sparser, less personal than the other rooms. A bed with a cabinet on each side, a narrow wardrobe, a chair by the window with clothes thrown across it, and a bookcase whose shelves bent under the weight of too many books, placed haphazardly with no regard to order. Maybe that was the common link between him and Paul.
On the bedside cabinet closest to the door was a lamp with a Polaroid photo leaning against its base. Gardner leaned forward for a better look. A tired and sweaty-looking Abby held a red and wrinkled Beth. Gardner guessed that wasn’t an Abbott original but would bet his life that it was one of his favourites. Simon caught him looking and picked up the photo.
‘Less than an hour old,’ he said, staring down at the picture. ‘I didn’t get to see her in person until she was nearly three weeks.’ He looked back at Gardner and something flashed across his face. Gardner felt a sting of sympathy for the man and wondered just how much he regretted his decision to let Beth go.
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