by Carla Kovach
* * *
That was a long time ago. Now, she stared into the darkness of a cold room, which is what she’d done every day since.
Her heart hammered as she heard his car trundling up the bumpy road. Her aching body tensed up. ‘Don’t upset him,’ she repeated several times as she heard the slam of his car door. ‘One, two, three…’ She continued counting until she reached twenty and he reached the bottom door. He stomped up the stairs before unlocking the door to her prison. He yelled and cried, then kicked a chair across the room. She flinched. Her body stiffened as her wide eyes locked onto his. She glanced away.
He dashed to her side and grabbed her hair, yanking her back. ‘I didn’t get to see Florence. I wanted to so badly but the ward door was locked and there were people there, there were people everywhere. They were looking at me… I’m sure they were looking at me. Why me?’ As she struggled to catch her breath, he let go of her, bouncing her head off the wall. He removed his woollen hat, revealing his flattened hair. He paced and began muttering under his breath, as he always did when he was stressed.
A tear trickled down her cheek. Her baby was safe, but her thoughts had now moved on to her baby’s future. With no mother coming forward, her little one would end up being fostered, then adopted. She wanted her baby. She wanted her baby to know she was her mother. She wanted to hold her, feed her, love her, take her to school and watch her grow up. At the start of the pregnancy, it had been easy to think that she wouldn’t bond with the life inside her because of the horrific circumstances in which she was conceived. But as that life grew, as it hiccupped and turned, she’d felt hope, a connection. After the birth, she’d wanted nothing more than to hold and nurture her baby. Her daughter needed to know she had a brother, a sister and a grandmother who would all love her. ‘Please, you have to get her to my mother. Let my mother look after her. Your ma would want that too. She’s also a grandmother. Don’t do this to her. Please help me. Help Florence.’
He looked into her eyes, staring deeply. The battery-powered light and his stare almost blinded her. She looked down before he could get angry.
‘We could have her back when things get better,’ he whispered. Pacing up and down, he continued to mutter to the shadows while banging the side of his head with a loose fist. ‘What should I do?’
‘I can’t lose her forever. Please. Do something, I beg you. Just tell the police she’s mine. You can do it anonymously.’
He stopped pacing and turned to face her. ‘Ours. She doesn’t just belong to you. I made her too.’
She wiped his spit from the corner of her eye. ‘And would you want our baby to be lost forever and be sent to live with strangers? My mum will love her, care for her and look after her,’ she cried.
‘What the hell should I do? She’s gone.’
‘She didn’t have to go. You made her go and you can fix this,’ Debbie yelled.
‘You couldn’t shut her up, could you?’
‘You didn’t give me a chance. Babies cry. Please help me, please. I can’t lose her. We can’t lose her. Your ma can’t lose her.’ Mucus dripped from Debbie’s nose as tears poured from her red-rimmed eyes. He kneeled on the bed beside her and kissed her forehead. She clenched her teeth to fight the pain as he sat and pulled her into his embrace. ‘I love you. You know I love you, don’t you? I love Florence too. I don’t know what to do. Florence wouldn’t shut up. Mother goes mad when she hears noise. I can’t have Ma upset. What do I do? I don’t know. I just don’t know,’ he said, rocking her back and forth, dragging her broken body with every movement.
‘You do. You could tell them to check her DNA. They’ll link her to me. Please just call them. It’s our only hope. You will lose her forever – you know that, don’t you? You will never see your baby again. Is that what you want?’
She knew the police had her DNA on file. Just after she’d been taken, she’d heard talk on the news about a body turning up in the River Avon, by the Marcliff Weir. The local papers had initially linked the body to her. He’d enjoyed taunting her, telling her that people would think she was the decomposed river corpse and they’d never look for her. He’d sneered as he told her how he’d watched the ‘dirty whore’ gagging on the icy river water until her dying breath. She shuddered at the thought.
She’d heard another newsflash soon after the incident. DNA had been used to eliminate her. She knew her DNA was on file, and could be matched to her baby’s.
‘I can’t lose her forever. You’re right,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have left her.’
Blood pumped through Debbie’s body as she pressed him harder. ‘You will lose her if you don’t make the call. Imagine never seeing her little face again or her perfect little fingers and toes. Imagine never knowing where that life you created ended up. Please make the call before it’s too late, or you’ll never see her again.’
‘I don’t know what to do.’
If he called the police, they’d look for her. Were they still looking? Had he slipped up in any way before this? This was her chance. She imagined the reunion after the police saved her. She’d run into Luke’s warm arms and see her two beautiful children. Her mother would turn up with her baby and they’d all be a family. That was the tiny glimmer of hope that would keep her going.
‘I don’t know what to do!’ he yelled. As abruptly as he’d grabbed her, he let her go, propelling her forward as he moved.
‘Please. Make the call. Not for me, but for you. You’ll never know where your baby is if you don’t make that call. Don’t lose her forever. They’ll match my DNA. We know they have it on file, from when the body turned up in the river, remember?’ Debbie reached out and touched his hand.
‘Why did you bring that up?’ He removed his hand. ‘She was a whore,’ he said, looking away.
Debbie removed her hand from his.
‘She was a whore. I wanted you. You! How dare you ever bring that up!’ He spat in her face and pushed her away. Without so much as a glance back, he left and locked the door, leaving her once again in darkness, with only the outside noises to occupy her.
‘Please make the call,’ she yelled, as she burst into uncontrollable sobs. ‘What did you do?’ She rocked back and forth and closed her eyes. ‘Make the call. Please!’ She heard the bottom door slam.
* * *
‘Damn it, damn it,’ he said as he locked the door. He stared at the grey skies above as he stood outside the main house. The curtains were still closed. He’d not got round to opening them.
‘Have you got my bread?’ the old woman asked as she opened the front door, letting the dog out.
The little black spaniel jumped up around his legs. ‘Get lost, Rosie,’ he said, giving it a kick and brushing past his mother.
‘Where’s my bread?’ she yelled.
‘You’ve had your breakfast. I gave you bread. Honey on toast, you wanted.’ He began pacing the hallway as he ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Where have you put my other phone?’
The old woman stared at him blankly. ‘Are we going to the shops?’ She walked over to the coat stand by the door and began putting one of his old coats on inside out. Her illness was taking a toll on him. The dog bounded back in, shaking its wet fur off against the wall. ‘Dog – get out,’ his mother shouted. ‘Get out. Get out. Get out.’
He hurried over to her and grabbed her arm. The woman yelled in pain as he shoved her outside and slammed the door, shutting her and the dog out. He bent over and stared through the letter box. She was still standing there, wearing his inside-out coat, waiting. For what? He had no idea. He wasn’t taking her shopping today. He wasn’t taking her shopping ever.
The kitchen. He’d last seen the phone in the kitchen drawer. He ran and opened it, smiling as he grabbed the phone, the one where he kept all the old photos he’d taken of Debbie before they’d got together. He grabbed the charger and plugged it in. Just a couple of minutes’ worth of charge would be enough to make the phone call. He couldn’t lose Florence forever. He
needed to call the police. He opened the top cupboard and a straw hat fell out. He grabbed his mother’s old scarf, which had been folded up underneath it. It would be useful to distort his voice. His Debbie phone had never been registered and he’d bought it with cash. It was safe to use. He’d drive out, into the middle of nowhere, make the shortest call ever, destroy the SIM card and head back.
There was a knock at the door and the dog barked. He dashed to open it, letting his mother in. The woman was shivering and crying. He took her hand and led her to her chair in the living room. ‘Sit there, Ma. I won’t be long.’
‘I want to go to the shop.’ She began to sob as she rocked back and forth. He grabbed one of her chicken pies from the sideboard, opened it and handed it to her. The dog lay by her feet, waiting for crumbs.
‘I’ll be back soon.’ He kissed her on the cheek and left, locking the door behind him.
Nine
Gina threw her bag into the corner of her office and turned her computer on. It was almost lunchtime.
Several emails pinged up as her computer finally came to life. As expected, a mass of calls had been made to the helpline in relation to the baby. Jacob and the team had sifted through a handful of them and only come up with one that was meaningful.
She picked up the phone and dialled his extension. ‘Jacob, I’m back in my office. Pop through and we can talk through these calls,’ she said, searching in her drawer for some paracetamol. She placed the receiver back in its cradle and massaged her temple as she popped a couple of pills onto her desk.
Jacob knocked and entered with a steaming Styrofoam cup. ‘Coffee. You are my saviour,’ she said, taking it from him. She placed the pills in her mouth and took a gulp, flinching as the heat from the coffee burned the back of her throat.
‘You’re welcome. Feel more human yet?’
‘I will do in a minute. My head has been pounding since I left the hospital.’ She swallowed and grimaced, realising that her throat was starting to feel like sandpaper.
Jacob grabbed the chair opposite her and placed his notebook on the desk. ‘How were things there?’ he asked as he loosened his tie.
‘Just routine. I spoke to the doctor in charge, a Doctor Nowak.’ Jacob scribbled the name under the rest of his illegible notes. ‘I asked him to circulate a message requesting that the staff keep an eye out for anyone coming to the hospital and acting suspiciously.’ Gina scrolled through her emails and came across a flagged email from Jacob. ‘What’s this? Must be important if you’ve flagged it.’
He leaned forward. ‘We had one call that struck a chord. It just came in a few minutes ago. The rest are still being sifted through, but they were basically descriptions of the many people that had been in the area that day. We have tall, short, fat, thin, workmen and women, wearing yellow jackets and suits – the usual. There wasn’t anything that really stood out on the first scan except the one I’ve highlighted. The officer who took the call said the man sounded distressed. The recording is very crackly. It sounds like the caller had a piece of cloth over his mouth. He appeared to be mumbling to himself, taking about a baby and his love. To cut a long story short, he basically begged us to run a DNA test on the baby. He screamed and yelled before bursting into tears.’
‘I can see why you flagged that one up. Why would someone call and request that we do a DNA check on the baby? I wonder if he’s the father. Or maybe it’s another crank.’
Jacob looked into her eyes. ‘He also said that the baby had a birthmark on the back of her right leg, just above the knee.’
Gina took another gulp of coffee. ‘Have you verified this?’
‘I called the hospital immediately and spoke to the nurse in charge. She confirmed the presence of the birthmark.’ He began to chew the end of his already worn-down biro as he stared at his notes.
‘We need to get that baby’s DNA sample to the lab. I’ll get it cleared with Briggs. There’s more to this story. Where’s the mother, for heaven’s sake? Have we traced the call? It sounds like our suspect was on the phone for a long time?’ Gina swigged the last of her coffee, pulled a cereal bar from her bag and began eating it.
‘Not as long as we’d hoped. He blurted everything out at speed then hung up. The only thing we managed to get was that the call came from an unregistered phone. We tried to call him back but the line was dead. He’s probably ditched it already.’
‘That’s a bit of a pain but not unexpected,’ she replied. The intensity of her headache began to reduce. She cleared her dry throat and smiled. ‘Right. I’ll arrange the DNA sample. Go through the recording again and listen for anything that may help us. Something’s really off about this case.’
Jacob stood and walked towards the door. ‘If you want a sausage roll, there’s a bag in the main office. O’Connor brought them in. Apparently, his wife made them yesterday.’
‘What would we do without O’Connor and his talented wife?’ Gina asked. Jacob smiled and closed the door as he left.
This wasn’t a usual request from someone involved in this type of case. If he were the father, he’d more likely be asking if the baby was safe and well. Where was the mother? A man had called, but a woman had recently given birth and she certainly hadn’t been assisted by anyone with any midwifery skills, given that the cord was cut so badly. Somewhere, there was a woman in pain, in distress, yet this man was calling and begging for the baby to be DNA tested. Something didn’t compute. This wasn’t a typical abandonment.
There was no way it could be a crank call, as the caller had given them a description of the birthmark. What if there wasn’t a match? In that case, their only hope of making any progress with the case would be to wait for another call.
She opened up a new email and addressed it to Briggs. Even though she was more than fond of him, his new tight-fisted approval process on anything that ate into their measly forensics budget was wearing her down.
Ten
An email from Briggs popped up on her screen, requesting her immediate attendance in his office. She swallowed as she stood and made her way through the main office and along the corridor. She took a deep breath, scooped her messy hair up into an elastic band and knocked. She heard Briggs bellowing down the phone as he ended his conversation. Her stomach grumbled and she felt a wave of nausea sweep through her. As soon as their conversation was over, she needed some lunch.
‘Come in,’ Briggs called.
‘Sir,’ she said as she entered. Briggs finished texting and placed his phone on the table. She watched as he tidied his suit jacket and rearranged his tie.
‘I hear some congratulations are in order. The CPS says the robbery case you passed to them is watertight. Good result.’ He paused and smiled. ‘It’s good to see you again, Georgina.’
She grimaced as he said her name in full. He was the only person in her life who called her Georgina since Terry had died. It sounded different when it rolled off his tongue though. ‘Thank you. It certainly was a cause for celebration.’
‘And that we did,’ he replied, before his gaze moved towards his computer screen. Gina felt her face flushing as she stared at her feet and tried to forget that night.
‘Anyway, I didn’t call you in just to massage your ego, Harte. What’s this about a request for more DNA tests?’ He stared at his computer screen and clicked his mouse.
At least he was back to calling her Harte. She began to pick her fingernail as she spoke. ‘We had the strangest call relating to the abandoned baby case. As I explained in my email—’
‘The email,’ Briggs repeated as he clicked his mouse and began reading what was in front of him. ‘Yes. Call from a wack job asking us to run a DNA check on the abandoned baby. Right, here’s where I stand, Harte. This department has already gone over its forensics budget by twenty-six per cent and the financial year isn’t over yet. Looking at your history, a lot of this budget has been wasted. We’ve had forensics go out to standard car break-ins where we already knew the owners had contaminated the crime
scene. You see where I’m coming from? I just have to make sure it’s justified,’ he said as his hand hovered over the keyboard, occasionally tapping as he continued to read.
‘But sir, this case is different. Whoever called is definitely connected to the baby. It may be our only clue as to who left her.’
‘But is it crime of the century? No one is in danger. We can still continue with the public appeal.’
Gina felt a fluttering in her chest as the pressure began to build up. She knew there was more to this case. ‘There is a mother out there somewhere. A man called, basically pointing us in the right direction. He made an attempt to disguise his voice, and used an unregistered phone to call us, which has now gone off the radar. This is no ordinary case of abandonment, with all due respect, sir.’
‘I sent the press release out. We should wait a bit longer, at least until everyone has seen the news. The baby is safe. No one has died and no one is in immediate danger.’
‘I know, but I also know there’s more to it. Why would this person call? Why? He knew about the birthmark.’
Briggs looked up at her for a second, then back to his computer screen. ‘If this turns out to be a waste of resources, it’s on you, Harte. I’ve just sent the approval through.’
Taking a deep breath, she smiled. ‘Thank you, sir. It won’t be a waste. I’ll get on with it right away.’
‘Georgina? Are we okay?’
An uncomfortable silence filled the room. She felt the redness creeping up her neck as she thought back to the other night. At that moment, he knew where her mind was and she knew exactly where his was. She cleared her throat. ‘We’re okay, sir.’
‘Sir. It sounds so ridiculous now.’
She gave him a slight smile as she left his office.
As she walked down the main corridor, she scratched her hot neck. She didn’t know whether to smile or mentally slap herself. What had she got into with Briggs?