by Susan Lewis
‘But we’re driven by performance targets,’ she reminded him, ‘and you don’t have the resources . . .’
‘Don’t quote my own lines at me. There are still . . .’
‘Sir, I promise you, this won’t be the first time I’ve been involved in a missing-person case since joining the force, so I know what I’m letting myself in for.’
‘It’s not only you I’m worried about,’ he informed her, ‘it’s the rest of us, if you end up letting personal issues get the better of your judgement.’
‘It won’t happen, you have my word.’
‘Where are you now?’
‘Just coming into Kesterly, we should be there in about five. If you could . . .’ She stopped suddenly as she spotted a familiar figure at a table outside the Seafront Café. Her mouth turned dry as her head started to spin.
‘Are you still there?’ Gould demanded.
Without answering she ended the call.
Glancing over at her, Leo said, ‘Are you OK?’
‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ she assured him.
And she would be, any minute now. She just needed a few moments to get over the shock of seeing Martin with a woman at a table outside the café. Actually, not just with, but holding her hand and laughing at whatever she was saying.
Laughing? When his father had just died?
This, she realised as the shock of it turned to something much deeper, must be why he’d asked if they could talk – and no doubt what Alayna and Luke were trying to warn her about. Their father had met someone else, who was here in Kesterly, presumably to lend Martin her support at this difficult time.
Chapter Five
‘I THOUGHT YOU might like some company,’ Marian Morris said tentatively as Heidi opened the front door.
As Heidi looked back at her, Marian felt she was watching her collapsing in on herself. It was clear she hadn’t slept in days; the circles under her eyes were like bruises, the ashen hue of her skin made her seem like a ghost. Marian could only begin to imagine the fears chasing around in her head, particularly now they were looking for this paedo lifeguard who’d upped and disappeared as soon as the police had started asking questions.
Marian knew she’d be beside herself if she was in Heidi’s shoes.
Estelle was still swearing on her own life, her mother’s and the Holy Bible that nothing ‘like that’ had ever happened during the couple of times she and Sophie had been at Perkins’s flat, but even if it hadn’t – and Marian desperately wanted to take Estelle’s word for it – they shouldn’t have been mixing with a man of his age in the first place. So, for that alone, Estelle was grounded at least until Sophie was found.
Poor woman, she reflected sadly to herself, as Heidi led her along the hall to the kitchen. She must know that the police were combing the entire cove now; every shop, pub, amusement arcade and fairground ride was being turned inside out. Then there were the pathways snaking from the main road down through the dunes, the mile stretch of beach with all its seaweed and debris, and the rocks around the headlands where heaven only knew what sort of marine life was hanging out.
Overnight, the situation seemed to have gone from a running-away to some kind of abduction. At least that was what they were saying on the news, so Marian could only think that the police were combing the area for some signs of a struggle.
‘I saw Gavin out there helping with the search,’ she said, as Heidi gestured for her to sit down at the cluttered table. ‘It must make him feel better to be doing something.’ Should she have said that? What on earth could make him feel better about digging around in ditches and hedgerows for signs of his missing daughter? Marian knew it would tear her to pieces. ‘Some of the punters are joining in,’ she ran on, ‘which is really sweet, isn’t it, considering they probably don’t know her. And it’s disrupting their holiday.’
Heidi didn’t answer; Marian wasn’t even sure she was listening.
‘It can’t be easy for you,’ Marian sympathised, ‘all this waiting, not knowing. It must be terrible.’
Heidi nodded and pushed a hand through her messy hair. ‘I keep thinking she’s going to walk through the door,’ she admitted hoarsely. ‘Sometimes it’s like I even see her.’
As she swallowed hard Marian squeezed her hand.
‘I need to tell her how sorry I am about the silly rows we’ve been having,’ Heidi ran on brokenly. ‘I want us to go back to the way we were, you know, friends and everything. Actually, I wouldn’t even mind if she didn’t want us to be close again, just as long as she was here and we knew she was safe.’
Which was all any parent wanted, to know their child was safe. ‘Have the police been to see you today?’ Marian asked.
Heidi nodded. ‘Someone came first thing to explain what was happening and why.’ Her breath shuddered as she tried to inhale. ‘She said I made her want to kill herself,’ she whispered, almost to herself, as though she couldn’t quite believe it.
‘But kids say stuff like that all the time. You can’t take any notice of it.’
Heidi seemed not have heard, clearly trapped by her inner hell, so to try and distract her Marian said, ‘Where’s the baby? I expect this has all been quite disruptive for him, hasn’t it?’
Heidi looked at her blankly, almost as though she’d forgotten his existence. ‘He should be waking up any minute,’ she finally managed. ‘If it weren’t for him I’d be out there looking too. Sitting here, waiting and worrying like this . . . It’s doing my head in. And then there’s the office. I keep telling myself I should go over there, but how can I think about anything else? It would look like I don’t care if I try, and that’s just not true.’
As her face crumpled Marian grabbed a tissue and put an arm around her. ‘No one thinks that,’ she lied on behalf of others rather than herself, since she did believe Heidi cared. In fact she knew it, and she wished everyone else would keep their malicious, uninformed gossip to themselves. ‘I’m sure no one’s expecting you to go over there.’
‘The Poynters are on their way back from Spain,’ Heidi announced, her voice thick with tears. ‘They’re being really nice about everything, but if they start losing business over this . . .’
‘You mustn’t worry about that,’ Marian insisted. ‘They understand it’s not your fault, and Sophie’s going to turn up safe and sound any time now. You wait and see.’
As Heidi looked at her Marian could feel her hopelessness as if it were emptying her own heart. ‘Oh, sweetie, you mustn’t give up,’ she urged. ‘It’s going to be fine. I promise.’
‘The police were asking about Tania yesterday,’ Heidi told her. ‘Do you remember her? The pretty blonde one from Romania? Or was it the Ukraine?’ She jumped as the landline rang. Her eyes went to Marian, showing how scared she was, until hope seemed to whisper from the wings and she lifted the receiver to say a cautious ‘Hello?’
Seeing how she was bracing herself for bad news, while praying it might be Sophie, Marian put a supportive hand on her arm.
‘No, we don’t have anything to say at this stage,’ Heidi told the caller, and hung up. ‘A reporter,’ she explained. ‘The police warned us they’d start getting in touch. That’s the fourth call this morning.’
‘Haven’t they given you a family liaison officer?’ Marian asked. ‘I’m sure they usually do in cases like this.’
Heidi was looking haunted again. ‘They said someone will be here today,’ she answered dully. ‘We don’t really want one though.’ Her breath caught on a sob. ‘They’ll be judging whether we’re crying enough, or if we’re hiding something.’ Her voice was fracturing again. ‘They always suspect the parents,’ she said, ‘and everyone knows me and Sophie were rowing all the time.’
Coming straight to her defence, Marian said, ‘And everyone knows what fourteen-year-olds are like, so no one’s blaming you for what’s happened.’
Covering her face with her hands, Heidi said, ‘I think Gavin’s blaming me. He hasn’t said that, but I know he’s wond
ering why I didn’t call him sooner when he was driving through France. I wish to God I had . . .’
Marian looked round as the doorbell sounded.
Heidi immediately tensed – if it were at all possible to tense more tightly than she already was, and Marian doubted it.
Since she was clearly fearing the worst, and who wouldn’t in her shoes, Marian said, ‘Would you like me to go?’
For a moment it seemed Heidi might say yes, but then pulling herself up she said, ‘It’ll probably be the FLO. Why don’t you put the kettle on?’
Left alone in the kitchen Marian cast a dismal eye about the place, and wondered whether it would seem helpful if she tidied up, or interfering. Deciding she could at least load the dishwasher while the kettle was doing its thing, and perhaps wipe down the counter tops, she set about her self-appointed tasks, while keeping an ear open for what was being said at the door.
At first it wasn’t possible to make it out, but then Heidi started raising her voice and Marian immediately ran to find out how she could help.
‘I don’t know how you’ve got the nerve,’ Heidi was shouting.
‘I swear he’s not a paedophile,’ the woman at the door was protesting. Recognising her as Suzi, from the salon, Marian put an arm round Heidi as she growled, ‘You need to leave. We have nothing to say to you.’
‘Please,’ Suzi implored, ‘what they’re saying about my brother . . . They made a mistake . . .’
‘There’s no mistake,’ Marian cut in waspishly. ‘Sophie was with him the night she disappeared, and now no one knows where he is. Unless you do, and you’re here trying to get information to feed back to him . . .’
‘No!’ Suzi cried. ‘That’s not why I’m here. I swear, Heidi, I came because I was worried about you.’
‘You need to leave,’ Heidi told her. ‘I can’t talk to you.’
‘Heidi please, if you’d hear me out . . .’
‘Just go,’ Marian snapped, and pulling Heidi inside she slammed the door.
As Suzi turned back towards the salon, passing Fun City, Treasure Island and Mickie’s Tavern, all of which were teeming with police and curious punters, she was feeling totally swamped by shame and humiliation. She didn’t have to look up to know that hostile, accusing eyes were following her; if only the ground would open and swallow her up.
She understood now how her mother felt each time she left the house: as though she was as guilty as her son. Suzi shivered at the memory of rocks being hurled through their windows, and the graffiti splashed on her mother’s car. Was that how it was going to be for her now? Everyone blaming her for her brother’s crime, tarring her, who’d never done anything but love kids, with the same brush that turned child molesters into social pariahs? They wouldn’t care that she hated paedos too, or that Gary’s offence had involved a fifteen-year-old girl who hadn’t been a virgin before that night, and who’d ended up writing to him in prison saying she was sorry, could she come to visit. His only crime in his so-called victim’s eyes had been his lack of interest in repeating the experience; reporting him to the police had been the unnamed girl’s revenge.
Why had the police felt the need to prosecute when there were so many real monsters out there who needed to be caught?
‘Suzi?’
Looking up, she frowned as she saw someone she recognised, but couldn’t immediately place. Then she remembered it was the detective who’d come to see her the day before.
‘I was hoping to find you at the salon,’ the detective began.
‘I’m on my way there,’ Suzi replied stiffly. Why didn’t this woman with her X-ray eyes go away and leave her alone? ‘If you’re about to ask me where my brother is, I can tell you now, I don’t have the first idea.’
Apparently unruffled by the hostility, the detective said, ‘Have you heard from him since . . .?’
‘No, I haven’t,’ Suzi cut in angrily. ‘And yes, I’ve tried ringing, but wherever he is, he’s not picking up. Is that OK? Have I answered your questions?’
Still managing to look friendly, when in her shoes Suzi would have wanted to give the stroppy cow a good slap, the detective said, ‘Did you know he was with Sophie on the Sunday night she disappeared?’
For a long moment Suzi was tempted to lie, but in the end she felt her shoulders slump as she simply nodded. ‘Yes, I did,’ she admitted, ‘but he swore to me he didn’t know where she went after.’
‘After?’
‘After he saw her,’ Suzi mumbled lamely.
‘Do you know if they were at his flat?’
Suzi kept her eyes on the caravans they were passing. If anyone looked out of their window now would they have any idea what was going on between these two very different women? One in a seersucker beach dress, the other in black trousers and cream shirt. If they knew this woman was a police officer and she was Gary Perkins’s sister they’d soon work it out.
‘Do you?’ the detective prompted.
Suzi shook her head. ‘He didn’t tell me where they were,’ she answered truthfully.
‘Do you know if anyone else was with them?’
Suzi shook her head again.
A moment or two passed as they skirted the recycling bins and continued on towards the salon. ‘How well does your brother know Tomasz Sikora?’ the detective suddenly asked.
Confused, Suzi said, ‘You mean the singing plumber?’ What bearing did this have on anything, unless Gary and Tomasz had got into something she knew nothing about? ‘I suppose he knows who he is,’ she said carefully, ‘everyone does, but they’re not mates, or anything like that, if that’s what you mean. Or not as far as I’m aware.’
‘So he didn’t mention anything about Tomasz being with him and Sophie on the night Sophie disappeared?’
Suzi came to a stop. ‘Why? Was he?’ she asked.
Still appearing friendly, the detective said, ‘It’s possible.’
‘So have you spoken to Tomasz?’
‘Not yet. It would appear that’s he’s vanished too.’
Not knowing what to say to that, Suzi took out her keys and unlocked the salon door. ‘Tell me,’ she said, before going in, ‘why did you have to make my brother’s previous conviction public? I thought someone was supposed to be innocent till proven guilty? He’s hardly going to be that now, is he?’
Managing to sound regretful, the detective replied, ‘I’m afraid we can’t withhold that sort of information when a young girl is known to have been with him the night she disappeared.’
No, Suzi supposed they couldn’t. Nevertheless, it still didn’t seem fair.
Nothing did any more.
‘If you do hear from your brother,’ Andee said, as Suzi started inside, ‘you will contact us, won’t you?’
Though Suzi nodded, she couldn’t be sure that she meant it. She guessed it would depend on how the search went, and what Gary said when, if he got in touch.
God help the good women who protect bad men, Andee was thinking gloomily as she walked away from Suzi’s Suntan Salon. It was a tragedy to see and an absolute headache to deal with, especially when the men concerned so rarely deserved it.
In spite of Suzi Perkins’s prickliness it had been plain to Andee just how wretched she was feeling inside, how cruelly torn between loyalty to her brother and . . . and what? Coming clean with what she actually knew?
Undoubtedly Kasia Domanski was experiencing the same inner struggle, although she didn’t appear to share the same doubts about Tomasz that Suzi clearly had about her brother. If anything Kasia was proving unshakeable in her belief that Tomasz was a ‘good person’, in spite of the police knocking at her door to question her about his connection to a missing girl.
Possibly three missing girls if they included Tania Karpenko, and another name had come to light this morning, Michaela Reznik. No one seemed certain about where she was from, or where she might have gone after leaving the camp.
Personnel records, along with criminal record checks, were definitely not a strong
point at Blue Ocean Park.
‘I am very worried,’ Kasia had insisted, when Andee had dropped in earlier on her way to the campsite. Kasia’s puffy eyes had been sore evidence of a sleepless night. (Join the club, Andee had thought grimly to herself.) ‘Always he calls when he goes away,’ Kasia had told her earnestly. ‘I don’t understand why he doesn’t this time. Something must have happened to him . . .’
Of course, it could all be artifice, but Andee didn’t think so. If appearances – and her own instincts – were anything to go by, the woman really didn’t have a deliberate untruth in her, and certainly no calls had been exchanged between the telephone numbers being monitored. Which didn’t mean Tomasz and Kasia weren’t using other phones, though Andee was a long way short of being convinced about that.
What she was far more convinced of, in fact was in no doubt of at all, was how truly devastating it would be for Kasia Domanski to have her trust in Tomasz shattered.
He had not been on a flight to Krakow.
Andee hadn’t told Kasia that this morning. First she wanted to be sure that he hadn’t taken another flight from another airport, and she wouldn’t know that until the passenger manifestos of all flights to Krakow over the past couple of days had been fully analysed. Far more problematic was going to be tracing the other girls, who didn’t appear to have any health, dental or even proper employment records, at least not here at Blue Ocean Park. On the other hand, until someone actually reported them missing she knew Gould wouldn’t agree to commit any resources to finding them.
‘Hey, Andee, there you are,’ Barry Britten called out, coming down the steps next to Alfie’s Pie Shop just as Andee reached them. His jacket was off, and due to the heat large patches of perspiration were blooming under his arms. ‘We’ve found an interesting little stash up there in Perkins’s flat,’ he informed her. ‘I mean quite literally. He’s only got his own hydroponics outfit installed like a second oven.’
Andee wondered why she wasn’t surprised. ‘A sex offender is growing cannabis in the middle of the campsite? It makes me wonder what we’re going to find next. A terrorist running the firework display? No sign of the man himself, I take it?’