Chapter 26
It’s ten o’clock before we get started properly. We agree with Lorraine that if we haven’t made progress by Marc Price’s deadline when the twenty four hours are up, she goes there and tells him Jim’s version of the story. Mike and Jerry begin to mark out the door-to-door, and the surveillance team begins the long trawl through days of speculation and sniping.
Lorraine and Damien grab two chairs from outside and retrieve the whiteboard with my diagram on it from the other room. I grab the marker pen and draw in the connection between Elise and the white van. We all stare at the diagram for a minute or so. Lorraine speaks first.
“My god. That’s scary, Jan. What’s been going on? And how has no one noticed?”
I sigh.
“You said it yourself yesterday, Damien. She hasn’t been abducting the kids. She’s been grooming the mothers.”
I’m still struggling to understand it. Even knowing all this, I just can’t imagine how a woman could just give her child to someone else. Legal adoption, where they’ve been given a scenario and the child is placed with a family known to social services, I can understand.
But I just don’t get how someone can hand over their most precious thing to a stranger they know little about. That’s what my heart says. But my head tells me that it goes on. My police experience tells me that people are capable of anything, and I have a niggling feeling that something big is happening right here. I start a progress log.
“So are we agreed that this is our line of inquiry? We look for a woman who has been making arrangements with vulnerable young women and taking their children by mutual consent, offering to return the child in return for the angel token? Then, when the girl goes back for the baby, the woman and child disappear?”
They both nod solemnly.
“And that the most probable scenario is that Elise was left in the alleyway for her to collect, but she couldn’t because of the roadblock?”
They’re still nodding. But Lorraine is frowning as she realizes where I’m going with this.
“And when she failed to collect Elise, she took Dara?”
Lorraine suddenly realizes the endgame.
“Shit. She must have wanted Elise for a particular reason. And when she didn’t get her, she took Dara instead. What kind of sick stuff is going on there? What the hell is she up to?”
We all look at one another. No one wants to state the obvious. But Mike’s been listening in from the other side of the room.
“Kiddie porn. Worse. Fucking disgusting bastards.”
Everyone in the room had a reason for joining the police. Like my reason was the Moors Murders. I had read about them and listened to local stories as I grew up, and since then keeping people safe and catching the criminals who cause harm has been my focus in life. Even more since Aiden went missing and I got to know Bessie Swaine’s story in my last case, about her missing son and how long the abhorrent crimes at The Gables went on.
Mike’s reason is pedophilia. One of his sisters was abused as a child by an uncle, and Mike had to watch the devastation caused by the horrible acts, including his sister being interviewed in the trial by video link. He told me that she didn’t speak for a month after the perpetrator was arrested because he had told her that if she ever talked about it, he would find her and kill her.
And so we all have the scenario in our heads. We all know that somewhere close there is a woman taking children in, and, in whatever despicable circumstances, they disappear. And we all know that we have no idea where this is. Damien begins to pace.
“Whichever way we look at it, this deserves a full investigation. Is there any way we can get everyone out there again? Find the van. More door-to-door with the new information? An appeal?”
Mike comes over.
“You can give it a try if you like. But as far as they’re concerned, it’s case closed. And, to be fair, all this might be true, but we don’t know where the kid is, do we? For all we know, Stewart could be right and that Peters guy could have killed her. Until we find her somewhere else, we can’t be sure.”
Damien nods.
“Point taken. But there’s an established link. With the van.”
Mike knows his stuff. He’s quick off the mark.
“No proof it’s the same van. Just some shit CCTV that the prosecution can rip to bits. And the media reports haven’t helped. Everyone in the country is on the lookout for a white van with a kid in it. Have a look at the Twitter feed. Everyone and their dog are reporting seeing blonde kids in Transits.”
We settle down again to go through the interview reports again, especially the later ones. Nothing about Dara, lots of sightings of a man answering Julian Peter’s description around the village in a white van. No mention of a woman in a van apart from the reports we’d already seen and the headmistress’s account.
Mike has almost finished the map now, and we all go over and check the red areas. Almost every address local to the Prices’ has been checked, as are many of those on the outskirts of the village. Industrial premises hadn’t been checked.
It’s almost lunchtime by the time we’ve finished our allotted tasks, and we’ve drawn a blank. Lorraine stands up with her hands on her hips.
“Maybe we should just go and have a look? Maybe we should drive around and look for the van.”
It’s desperation. I recognize it.
“We’ve done that. We’ve looked everywhere.”
Mike and Jerry go to get coffees for us, and I sit down in front of one of the monitors. I check my Facebook to see if Aiden has been in touch. I check my phone, too. Nothing. Aiden’s Facebook is still down and so is his Skype. I look at my own Facebook page again.
Two hundred and forty-two friends. Except they’re not friends. They’re people from school or college who I hardly know now. The only person I have any actual face-to-face contact with now is Lorraine.
I log onto the police Twitter account and scroll through. Keep your windows shut. Don’t drink and drive. Have you seen this person? I scroll farther down until I see a picture of Dara filling the screen. She’s smiling at the person behind the camera. Probably Amy.
I can hear Lorraine typing a text and even Damien is checking his emails. Everyone’s at a loss as to what to do next, and I’m wondering if this is it. The bit where I fail to find the missing child. Where I give up and let Lorraine break it to the parents. I beckon Lorraine over.
“I think I’m going to have to call it, Lorraine. We’ve got nowhere to go with it.”
She shakes her head.
“No, Jan. We can’t. Because then the next thing that will happen is a dead child.”
We’re both staring at the screen as she scrolls down through the masses of messages, prayers, and good wishes, and I can see Lorraine’s eyes, all shiny, reflected.
“No choice. I . . .”
But she’s pointing now, breathless.
“Wait a minute. Look. What’s this? Damien, come and look at this.”
Chapter 27
He comes over and we all stare at the screen.
@linajagger @gmpolice http://spoti.fi/2eQh1bg
@linajagger @gmpolice help me. I’m at Charleston House in Greenfield. I know where Dara is.
@linajagger @gmpolice she’s at 45 Pi
Damien speaks first.
“How the fuck has this been missed? That’s a partial address. We need to follow it up right now.”
Mike’s back now, and he’s looking over my shoulder.
“To be fair, Damo, it’s just like all the rest of them. Thousands and thousands of Twitter messages. All saying they know where Dara is. The real question is what makes it stand out. Because we’re grabbing at straws here. Desperate.”
I move the cursor over the link and press it. The playlist appears.
“It’s the same playlist as the one on the written list found in Elise’s hood.”
Lorraine logs onto the next workstation and goes to the next screen and opens her own Spotify acc
ount, clicking on the playlist we created on Sunday at the assessment center. Mike shakes his head.
“So how come we never knew about this? We’ve been trawling through these messages all week with no guidance on what we’re looking for. Why weren’t we told?”
I shrug.
“Because we were all looking for White Van Man. Everything was geared around that. I tried to raise the subject on Monday, but you were all there when Jim Stewart shot me down. And he told me after the press conference that if Dara wasn’t found, it would be my fault for diverting Operation Hawk.”
Damien’s been staring at the message. He interrupts.
“So she’s validating who she is with the playlist. She’s at Charleston House. In Greenfield.”
Mike enters Charleston House into the search engine.
“BJIT Services. Providing all media and Internet services to the general public. It’s farther up Holmfirth Road, set back off the road. Phone number.”
He picks up his mobile and calls them on speaker phone. A man answers.
“BJIT. How can I help?”
“Hi, Mike Smith here. I’m looking for someone to write me a website.”
“What business are you in, Mr. Smith?”
“Retail. Jewelry. We’re looking for a large shopping site.”
“OK. I think I can help you with that. Can I take an email address, and we’ll send you some samples and a price list? But we can negotiate for larger sites.”
Mike pauses.
“[email protected]. What sort of stuff do you do up there? I might be in the market for more IT.”
“You name it, we do it. All remote services. I’ll just send the information. Should be on its way. Have a look and give me a call back. My name’s Kevin.”
“Thanks Kevin.”
He hangs up.
“So she’s at an IT company.”
Damien joins in.
“And she can post a message from Spotify to Twitter, but she can’t dial 999?”
I sigh.
“Maybe she doesn’t have a phone. But one thing she does have is an address we need. Come on.”
Stan watches as we all hurry through reception.
“Off to tell Mr. and Mrs. Price the bad news?”
I nod. I hate lying to Stan. He’s such a good copper. I almost say, “No, no, we’re going to find Dara.” But even I don’t believe it yet. Elise’s mum hasn’t been the most reliable person so far, so why should this be any different?
“Mmm. We’re all going. To support Lorraine.”
Damien shifts from foot to foot, and Mike is looking at the floor. Stan signs us all out.
“Be careful out there.”
I swear I see him wink. But it’s too late to go back and thank him for believing in me. It’s action stations. Don and Conny take one car, and Lorraine and Damien jump in her car. Mike and I get in mine. He smiles and rubs his knees.
“Back to the beginning. The terrible twosome back together again.”
I drive off. Almost all the reporters have gone now. I turn out of Central Park and onto Oldham Road. Mike’s silent for a while, then he presses play on my car system. It picks up the playlist from my phone as I drop it into the car charger. My eyes automatically mist over, and I press stop. Mike half turns to me.
“You OK, mate?”
A tear escapes and drops onto my trousers.
“Aiden. And Sal.”
This isn’t going to come as any surprise to Mike, who’s been privy to my entire life. And he’s the only one who knows that I know where Aiden is.
“You’ve heard from him?”
I wipe another tear away.
“I don’t know. There were a few missed calls, and I thought he was trying to contact me. But his Facebook is deactivated now. Sal’s as well. I can’t even . . .”
“Yeah. But you must have known they’d do this? Sal’s on the most wanted list now, and Interpol is after him and Connelly.”
I nod.
“’Course I did. But I just thought that Aiden would miss me. You know. As a mum.”
“It’s this case, isn’t it? Getting to you. Maybe you should have taken more time off after . . .”
“No. I can’t. Because I need to know what’s going on. I need to help find those bastards and get my son back. It’s my best bet. Being at work.”
“I can see your point, but, as a mate . . . it’s not going to get any easier. Especially if this is a dead end and we don’t find Dara.”
I think about it, but it doesn’t seem right. If I took time off, I’d be sitting at home thinking about work. So what’s the point?
“No. I’m staying. It’s my job, and I’m going to do it.”
I’m driving out of Oldham now, and my stomach flips. What if none of this works out? What if we don’t find Dara? I hadn’t thought of it before, but what will happen to me? Will I be suspended for acting alone? And Mike. It could cost him his sergeant exams.
“Look, Mike. Thanks for backing me up. It means a lot. I’m just not myself at the moment.”
He nods.
“No. You’re not. But that’s allowed, mate. Things’ll get better soon. I’m like that when me and Della have bad patches.”
I laugh now.
“You and Della? Bad patches? Never!”
“Yeah. Sometimes she even lets me speak.”
We laugh out loud. It feels good.
“Lorraine reckons I should get a fella. You know. A boyfriend.”
He smiles a wide grin.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. She reckons it’d cheer me up. She might be right. Everyone else seems to have paired off. I just can’t seem to find anyone.”
He stares straight ahead.
“I would.”
“Pardon?”
“I would, Jan. If it weren’t for Della, obviously. She’d have my balls on sticks if I looked at anyone else, but anyone who gets you is a lucky bloke.”
I’m all choked up again.
“Thanks, Mike.”
“I mean it. You’re pretty and smart. Loads of guys have got the hots for you.”
“Never make a move, though, do they? Never ask me out.”
“Well, you are a bit, erm, standoffish. And you never go anywhere. No one’s going to ask you for a date if you’re always at work.”
He punches my arm again.
“Anyway, when me and Della get a divorce, I’ll marry you. If you’re still free.”
“You’re only saying that because you know I won’t be.”
He laughs loudly.
“That’s the spirit, Jan. Optimism.”
We’re nearly there. We park down the road from the turnoff for Charleston House. Everyone gets out of the car, and we stand on the edge of the road behind a dry stone wall to shelter us from the wind. Dovestones Reservoir stretches out before us. I look out over the water toward the rocky outcrops of the other bank, and I think about happier times when I used to come here with my mother. And when Sal and I used to walk up here, before I was pregnant with Aiden.
I wonder if this is what working on kids’ cases will be like? Constant ducking and diving. Cases already decided before they start. All my police career I’ve wanted to reach this level, in charge of big cases. And now I’m teetering on the precipice of career disaster and taking Mike and Lorraine with me. But even if I’m wrong, at least I’ll have my integrity.
We gather round now and plan the approach.
“Right. We don’t want to pressure anyone. We just want to find this woman and get out of here. I can’t see there being any problems in an IT company. Me, Mike, and Damien will go. You three wait at the end of the drive, and if we’re not back in fifteen minutes, then come looking for us.”
We drive up to Charleston Hall. The others wait at the end of the drive. Damien and Mike join me to walk up the end of the gravel drive. We wait for a second around the gatepost, out of sight.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen here. But if we need backup . .
.”
Mike laughs nervously.
“Yeah. Backup. Can’t see us needing it, but . . .”
His face tells a different story. He’s tense, worried, and it makes my stomach tighten with fear.
“I know. I know. It all seems aboveboard. But she started her message with “help me.” Why would she need help if she was working at an IT company? It doesn’t add up.”
Damien shakes his head.
“Look. Let’s just take it slowly. Just treat it as a door-to-door. She might not even be here.”
We start to walk. I’m gritting my teeth, hoping she is here and hoping she does really know where Dara is. That she knows the full address. But I feel slightly sick. I still can’t understand why she would have left Elise. I know it goes on, but why? Why would she?
Then again, I know that people break the law every day. It’s pretty black and white in policing, where wrongdoing is clearly defined. And all this making of private arrangements with unknown persons to adopt your child is illegal. Child abandonment. Illegal.
So this woman we may be rescuing is a criminal. I know Damien’s argument, that she and the others were desperate, but the law is clear. Of course, I’d seen lots of desperate people in my job. Lots of women living in real poverty, struggling to keep families together.
I argue with myself for a split second, wondering if they have a right to help their kids, to give them a better life, and was this what Elise’s mother believed. And the others? I don’t know. I can’t imagine ever giving Aiden up. But am I doing that now? Am I allowing him to slip through my fingers? Should I be out there searching for him? And because of this, I don’t know how I feel. I don’t know whether to arrest Elise’s mother or protect her.
I can’t think about it anymore. We’re at the door and the pivotal point of my police career. If she’s not here and she’s messing around with us, or we’ve got it wrong, I’m done for. And so is Dara.
Playlist for a Paper Angel (DS Jan Pearce Crime Fiction Series Book 3) Page 19