Hey You, Pretty Face - A baby left for dead. Three girls stolen in the night. A Psychological Thriller. (DC Jack Rutherford Book 1)

by Linda Coles

  Or so she thought.

  Chapter Fifty-Six

  Just outside of Horsham in West Sussex, Beryl and Malcolm, along with their dog Brandy, were taking a welcome Boxing Day walk in the late afternoon before the little sun there was finally disappeared for the day. After another big lunch of leftovers, they’d played hide and seek with the grandchildren until the children had grown tired and cranky. Feeling a little old for such constant entertainment needs, Beryl and Malcolm had breathed a sigh of relief when home time had finally been announced and both sets of children had headed off to their own homes. The pair were heading home now for some peace and quiet, and to plates of leftovers for supper should they fancy a bite to eat. Malcolm belched contentedly.

  “That was a bit loud,” Beryl admonished as they walked out towards the green fields and the few trees beyond.

  “There’s no one out here to hear me, B, and it’s not good to hold it in,” he reasoned, taking her hand in his as they strolled. Brandy dashed around them as dogs often did.

  “She’s probably sick of being indoors too,” Malcolm said, nodding to the beagle. “I love the children to bits, but they’re a bit young yet to know what’s what, and they wind her up terribly. I fear one day she might snap back at them. Won’t you, Brandy?” he added, in that cutesy voice dog owners always seemed to use. The dog sensed she was being asked a question and gave a single bark in reply.

  “See? Even Brandy agrees with me.”

  “Don’t be daft. She’d bark like that if you asked her the lottery numbers. It doesn’t mean she has them.”

  Malcolm squeezed his wife’s hand lightly. “Now wouldn’t that be nice, B? What would you do with all that money, at our age?”

  “I’d book a cruise, for starters, then figure the rest out while we lay in the sunshine somewhere a long way from here.”

  Brandy ran on ahead, sniffing the ground as she went, searching for something of interest known only to her as they headed closer to the trees. Beryl and Malcolm followed slowly behind, bantering companionably.

  Suddenly Brandy gave two sharp barks.

  “What’s she found now? A poor rabbit or something?” said Beryl. Neither she nor Malcolm could see the dog now.

  “I don’t know,” said Malcolm, sounding curious. “It doesn’t sound like her normal rabbit bark, though, does it?” He turned to Beryl and they stood still for a moment to listen. Brandy obliged them with a few more barks.

  “I wonder what’s upsetting her, then. She sounds insistent at something.”

  Beryl called the dog back, but Brandy stayed put. “Now that’s strange. She always comes,’ she said, and they both took the cue and headed towards the sound of the dog’s barks. When they’d pushed their way through the lower branches and brambles of the small copse, they could see Brandy ahead, but nothing else was obvious. Brandy was sitting still, barking constantly now and looking at both Malcolm and Beryl as they approached.

  “What is it, Brandy?” Malcolm asked, Beryl close behind him. Twigs snapped under their feet as they made their way forward. The carpet of fallen, sodden leaves covering the sticky ground made it difficult to see where they were stepping. When they finally reached the dog, it was Beryl who saw what was exciting Brandy, and she gasped and covered her mouth with her hands. Malcolm followed her horrified gaze. Partly covered with leaves was a body. Malcolm stepped closer and brushed the hair from its face slightly. It was a young girl. Her face was as white as a bedsheet and she had bruising under her eyes. Instinctively, he knew she was dead, but he put his fingers to her neck anyway.

  And waited.

  And waited. Beryl stood silently nearby, Brandy now quiet at her heels, and then reached for her cell phone to call the police, thanking their son silently for having given her such an extravagant Christmas present. ‘To keep you both safe should you need it,” he’d said. Well, they needed it right now, and as she pressed for emergency and waited for a connection, Malcolm shouted three little words that would stay with them for the rest of their lives.

  “She’s still alive!”

  Chapter Fifty-Seven

  It had felt good to drop a bag of food off to Billy and his girl, not that Jack had managed to meet her yet, but he doubted she was a figment of Billy’s imagination. He might beg like someone from a Monty Python sketch, but he seemed genuine enough. And cheeky. Jack smiled again just thinking about the young man. Janine would like him too, he was sure. Jack looked across at DI Morton’s still-empty office and wondered yet again how he managed to keep himself out of events, and how the brass higher up never seemed bothered. Eddie was obviously taking a leaf out of his book, and since Morton was hardly there to witness what his team were up to, that also never got dealt with. Jack and a handful of others were the only true coppers in the squad that gave a damn.

  News had spread that Leanne and Kate had been found, alive and relatively well, and the morning briefing had been completed for those present. Jack was heading for the coffee cupboard when Mo, the civilian researcher, caught up with him. Even the small journey from her desk to where they both stood made her breathless and she stood for a moment trying to gather some control before she spoke. Jack waited patiently for her to say whatever it was she wanted to tell him. The woman could do with losing three or four stone to get down to a healthier weight, he reflected. There were biscuit crumbs stuck to her ample cleavage and Jack tried not to notice.

  “What’s up, Mo?”

  “Christmas Day evening, late on,” she panted, then carried on. “Traffic cops on the M25, Sussex. Stopped a van. Our van. Nothing inside. The driver wasn’t Martin. He wasn’t there. A man called Bernard, with no papers on him, and another guy, a passenger. The driver said he’d drop them into a station soon.”

  “Right,” said Jack, waiting to see if there was any more. When it was clear she’d finished, he went on. “So, they let the van go?”

  “Yes, no reason to hold it, or them. One thing, though. I spoke to the traffic officer. Says there were a couple of sets of vehicle reg plates sticking out from under the passenger seat. The men said they were off a couple of old vehicles back at home and that was the end of it. Unfortunately, the officer didn’t make a note of the plate info. Shame, really.” She was able to speak normally again now. “It was late. Shift was nearly over and they had nothing else to report, but I wondered.”

  “I see where you’re going, Mo. You’re thinking about the two burned-out vehicles that were at the house. The plates were off them. Shit! So close. Damn it!” shouted Jack, making the few in the room stop and turn their way. Mo’s neck reddened for no reason other than the outburst from Jack.

  “And no, there’s no CCTV footage from that area that night. The cameras were off; there wasn’t enough traffic to warrant them. When will the day come when they are on full time, eh?” Jack stood, thumb resting between his lips, thinking. “The area could fit too. They might have dropped little Kate off and carried on. Which part of the motorway were they stopped at?”

  “Not far from the Horsham area, so West Sussex. She was East Sussex. Still would work, though.”

  “Right. See if any cameras were working, further along. We could do with a break, though I expect the van’s long gone now. It’s nearly twenty-four hours ago. If they’ve any sense, they’ll have ditched it somewhere and burned it. Can you let the local police know to be on the lookout, or see if they’ve already found it and not realised we’re after it?”

  “Right, yes. I’ll get on to it.”

  “And Mo?”

  “Yes?

  “Good work. Thanks.”

  Mo’s neck turned an even deeper shade of red.

  He turned his focus back to making his mug of Nescafe and piled in a couple of sugars for good measure. Breakfast seemed like an age ago and the instant kick of caffeine and sugar would carry him through a while longer. A sausage sandwich would have been perfect right about now. He was about to return to his desk when the phone in his breast pocket rang, He jumped, slopping co
ffee over the rim of his mug and on to the stained carpet tiles below. He’d had the phone a while, but still, it gave him a fright when it went off. He cursed under his breath.

  “DC Jack Rutherford.”

  “Jack, it’s DS Mark Tomlinson here, Merevale Police up the road.”

  “Yes, hello. What can I do for you?”

  “Well, we brought a young lady in for shoplifting earlier, and when we were processing her, we found your card in her pocket.”

  “Oh? What’s the young lady’s name?”

  “It’s Chloe Mathews, of no fixed address. I thought you might like to know, since she’s dealt with you in the past.”

  The line was silent as Jack searched the memory banks in the back of his head for where he might have come across the girl.

  “Right,” he finally said, stumped. “Well, I can’t think who she is. Has she asked for me at all?”

  “No, just me thinking I should call you. Anyway, that’s all I wanted.”

  Suddenly it dawned on him. “Chloe. Homeless, you say?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I’m on my way over for a chat. Make her a mug of tea, would you? And find her a couple of biscuits.”

  “Eh? She’s been caught nicking sausage rolls, for heaven’s sake.”

  “As a favour, then. Tea and biscuits. See you in a few minutes.”

  Jack smiled at the phone. She sounded like Billy’s girl, all right, and just as cheeky.

  Chapter Fifty-Eight

  As Jack turned into the Merevale station yard, he wondered what this Chloe Mathews would be like, and how she’d got hold of his card. Yes, she was probably Billy’s girlfriend, he thought. He pulled his jacket close, climbed out of the car and headed towards the back door as a bitter wind caught him around the ears. Maybe it was time to start wearing a woolly hat, he mused, like an old boy would. He pressed the buzzer and waited for the door to open then made his way in to meet DS Mark Tomlinson. Tomlinson met him halfway, striding towards him with an outstretched hand and a friendly smile.

  “Nice to meet you, Jack.”

  “And you. Thanks for calling me. I think I know who she is now, though I was struggling to remember her right then and there. How’s she doing, and what’s happening?” he asked as they entered an empty interview room. It looked as comfortable as any other interview room up and down the country – made for criminal confession and not for comfort. Jack took one of the plastic chairs and sat awkwardly.

  “She’s been arrested before, but since she had your card, I figured you might like to know that there may another connection someplace. Shoplifters don’t normally carry detectives’ cards about their person – not in my experience, anyway.” He smiled as he said it, and Jack warmed to the man. “She thanked you for the tea and biscuits, by the way.”

  It was Jack’s turn to smile. “May I chat with her, off the record?”

  “Be my guest.”

  “Where are you up to now with her? Has she been charged?”

  “Yes. Had to.”

  “Right, yes. Okay, if I can see her that would be great.”

  “I’ll bring her in. We won’t be listening.”

  While Jack sat waiting, he wondered exactly what he was going to talk to her about. He only knew her through Billy, had never met her before now, and of course couldn’t do a fat lot for her at this point since she’d already been charged. Figuring he’d work it out as he went, he turned as the door opened and a young woman walked in.

  “I’ll be outside if you need anything,” Tomlinson said, and then he was gone.

  Jack studied the girl until she sat down, her head falling forward, making it difficult to see much of her. What he could see of her face looked defeated. He waited, hoping she’d say something to kick the conversation off, but after a full minute, it was obvious that was going to be Jack’s responsibility.

  “I’m Jack. A sort of friend of Billy’s. I’m assuming you’re Billy’s girl?” He kept his voice light, hoping to encourage her confidence in him. “What’s your name?”

  Silence.

  “Look, I may be able to help here. I told Billy to call me if he was ever in trouble, and since he gave that card to you and you are right at this moment in trouble, well, why don’t you help us both out?”

  Quietly, she said, “I’m sorry for nicking the sausage rolls. I was hungry. And I thought Billy would like some for later. I hadn’t enough money for them and the cola.”

  It was a start; the girl was speaking.

  “I understand, Chloe,” said Jack.

  “Can you get me off, Jack? I didn’t mean any harm.” Her voice was barely audible; she still had not looked at him.

  “It’s difficult now you’ve been charged, but why don’t you tell me the whole story and I’ll put a word in for you.” He waited for another beat before adding, “What have you got to lose?”

  And so, still without raising her head, she told Jack the brief story of how a rotten day begging had ended her up at the police station, and how she’d been processed like a criminal for a few sausage rolls that had been stolen out of desperation, not malice. Had she had the money, she would have gladly paid for them. Stealing was wrong, she knew.

  “What will happen to me now?” she asked, a tear dropping off the end of her nose onto the table in front of her. Idly, she placed a single finger over it and played with the tiny puddle. Jack felt his heart catch in his chest as he watched.

  “Well, you will appear in court, and the judge will decide. I doubt you’ll end up inside. Stealing sausage rolls does actually carry a six-month custodial sentence because the value of the item was under two hundred pounds, and of course, you’ll carry a criminal record. Good job they weren’t really expensive ones; that would have meant even more jail time. Even if you only get a caution from the police here, it’s still a criminal conviction, which doesn’t look good for your future. Employers hate criminal convictions.”

  “But if I get a caution, I won’t go to court and people won’t see me?” There was an ounce of hope in her voice.

  “That’s correct. You still have the conviction, but no court appearance.” He narrowed his eyes, puzzled. So her need for privacy was more important than jail time. “Is that important to you, that you don’t go to court? Does it have something to do with why you live as you do, with Billy? Maybe away from your parents?”

  At the mention of her parents, the girl visibly recoiled, hugging her arms around her, and began to cry in earnest. So this was why she was living almost alone, away from home, Jack thought unhappily.

  The girl had been abused.

  Jack slipped her his handkerchief and she blew her nose.

  “Hey, it’ll be alright. Let me have a word, eh? But why don’t you tell me a bit more about yourself, if you can?”

  Chloe blew her nose and looked up at him quickly, then down again. “I’m from Manchester. My parents went to live in Scotland. I live with Billy in a garage on Pitt Road. That’s all I can tell you.”

  At least it was something, Jack thought. She lifted her head now and looked him in the eye. He thought she looked familiar somehow but couldn’t place why. He stood to leave.

  “Look, I’ll see if they are happy to caution you and leave it at that. Will that suit you?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “I’ve not managed it yet so don’t thank me quite yet, but I’ll try. And if I do get them to agree, you can’t go nicking stuff again or you will end up in custody next time. Do you understand me, Chloe?”

  “Yes.” She sounded brighter already, and he watched as she dried her eyes and handed him his handkerchief back.

  “Sit tight. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  As he walked in search of the DS, he tried again to figure out why Chloe Mathews looked so familiar.

  Chapter Fifty-Nine

  To Jack, it didn’t seem fair that the young woman would do time for trying to feed herself and her boyfriend, and it appeared the powers that be agreed with him. So
now she wouldn’t have to. The DS had taken Jack’s word for it that she wouldn’t be shoplifting in the future, had learned her lesson – and Jack hoped she wouldn’t let him down. He was on his way to see if he could find Billy, taking Chloe in the car with him for a lift back home. At least this way, they could pick him up too and Jack could check out where they were both living. He hoped Billy still had the picnic Janine had wrapped up for them both. It would make a nice surprise for the girl.

  As he crossed town towards where she had suggested Billy was working, he reflected on why he was taking such an interest in the pair of them. He wanted to find out more, but was reluctant to pry. He also knew that excess interest on his part would look odd – Billy and Chloe would wonder why he wanted to know.

  Chloe was gazing out the window in silence as they drove.

  “So, you think he’s on the high street, you say?” Jack asked, hoping to get the girl talking a bit more. “What’s he wearing?”

  “Same thing as every other day: jeans and a sweatshirt and his black parka.” Jack knew what he was wearing. He’d seen him earlier but didn’t let on.

  “There he is,” she said pointing across the street. Jack glanced across to confirm and quickly pulled into a space that wasn’t really a parking space. Anyone else would have got a ticket. Chloe looked at him accusingly.

  “Perks of the job. I’ll only be a minute. Sit tight.”

  Chloe watched as he crossed the street heading towards Billy. When Billy saw him approach, he raised his hand to wave. Chloe couldn’t help but smile, and she watched as a brief conversation took place and Billy collected his things together and picked up an odd-looking bag she didn’t recognize. They both walked back to the car. Billy was smiling broadly as he clambered into the back seat.