Playlist for a Paper Angel (DS Jan Pearce Crime Fiction Series Book 3)

by Jacqueline Ward

  Chapter 28

  I knock on the door. There’s no response at first, and Mike goes to look through a front window. Charleston House is built of large stone blocks, much like ancient breeze blocks. I look around for cameras and alarms and see three sensors above the upstairs windows. There are no cameras on the house.

  I look into the front garden. There’s a lawned area, well kept, and on the other side, a row of tall conifers blocking the view from the road. A row of small trees line the other side of the house, enclosing the front of it completely. Two lamp posts either side of the gates house two remote cameras, and I watch as one of them pans around to capture the scene.

  The windows are sealed on the outside, and the upstairs windows are covered with a fine metal security mesh. The front downstairs windows are double glazed sash windows, in their original fittings. Nice property. Well cared for. Speaks of affluence. I note the tire marks in the gravel. Lots of people here. No litter.

  I step backward and look around the side of the house. Unlike the front, the side of the house opens onto bleak moorland separated only by a wooden fence. The back garden is neat and tidy with a stone path leading through it to a wooden gate at the end. Beyond the gate, I can see that the moss and heather has been trodden down recently.

  Mike comes back from his recon mission.

  “Windows are all lined with reflective material. Can’t see in. Can’t get fully round the back. There’s a fence. No sign of anyone.”

  I knock again and a tall blond man opens it. He smiles and steps outside.

  “Can I help?”

  I get out my warrant card and Mike flashes his.

  “I’m DS Pearce and this is DC Waring and Dr. Damien Booth. We’re looking for B. J. I. T Services.”

  He inclines his head slightly.

  “Well, you’ve found us. What can I do for you?”

  I wait for him to open the door and invite us in, but he doesn’t. He stands with the door half-shut behind him. I wait a second or more, then continue.

  “We’re looking for a woman.”

  I suddenly realize that I don’t know her name. I can’t say that I’m looking for Elise’s mum. Or the woman who sent us a message asking for help.

  “A small blonde woman.”

  His steel blue eyes show a shadow of amusement.

  “Aren’t we all? Any idea of her name?”

  I stare at him.

  “It’s about the missing child inquiry. You’ve probably seen it on the news. We’re doing door-to-door in the area, and someone said that this woman might have some information. So. Small blonde woman?”

  He wrinkles his nose and shakes his head.

  “Can’t help you there. Sorry.”

  Mike steps forward.

  “Mind if we take a look, mate?”

  He looks uncertain. I hear the security camera whir again. Damien looks at me and raises his eyebrows. I look through the slightly open door and see a hallway with doors on each side. Someone crosses the hallway quickly and ducks out of sight.

  “Nothing to see. Just computers. We keep some of our stock here. There’s a team of developers here, but no one of that description. We’re just working right now, so it would be better if you made an appointment.”

  Mike nods.

  “Nah. We’ll just wait until you get someone we can talk to.”

  He stands his ground.

  “No one else here. Just me. I’ll let the boss know you need to talk to someone, and he’ll give you a call.”

  Mike makes the next move.

  “Can’t you just call him now and tell him to come over? This is really important.”

  He steps forward. I hope he isn’t going to force the matter. We haven’t got a warrant. He’s face-to-face with the blond man.

  “Really important. About a missing kid.”

  He considers this and backs away, pushing the door open a little bit more. Suddenly there’s a shout and a cry from inside. Something smashes against the door and pushes it into the blond man, and then the door opens fully. There’s a woman curled up in a ball in the hallway. A small blonde woman.

  She gets up and runs outside. She’s dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, no jacket, and trainers. She runs toward me and jumps at me. Mike goes to pull her away, but she wraps her arms and one of her legs around me. She whispers into my ear.

  “I’m Lisa. Elise’s mum. Get me out of here.”

  I signal to the others to move away, and the blond man goes inside and slams the door shut. I try to push her off me, but she won’t let go. She’s stiff, and her hands are locked behind my neck.

  “You need to let go, Lisa.”

  She shakes her head violently.

  “No. Not until we’re away from here. Get us away.”

  We start to walk down the gravel driveway, and suddenly she drops away from me.

  “Don’t walk there. Don’t walk through the sand. Someone died there. Someone was shot.”

  She’s hysterical. She’s pointing at the patch of sand, her eyes pleading. I look at her.

  “Shot?”

  “Yes. The other night. Shot, right here. You need to get back in there. They’re doing all sorts in there.”

  She’s pointing at Charleston House, and we all turn round and look. There’s no sign of anyone coming to stop Lisa. I scan the windows for any sign of life, and I think I see someone in the top left-hand window, a small pale face. Lisa sees it, too.

  “It’s Joanne. Please. Go and get everyone out before it’s too late.”

  I carry on walking and she insists we go back.

  “If you’re the police, you can do something. You can stop them.”

  Damien catches up with me.

  “Jan . . .”

  I turn and catch hold of Lisa, one hand at the side of each of her arms, and hold her in front of me.

  “Lisa. Did you send us a message on Twitter?”

  She stares at me.

  “Is Elise all right?”

  I ignore her.

  “Did you send us a message on Twitter?”

  “Yes.”

  “OK. Do you know where Dara Price is?”

  She nods her head. I march her forward toward my car.

  “Damien, Mike, you take Mike’s car. I’ll lead with Lisa.”

  Mike steps between us.

  “I don’t know, Jan . . .”

  “Just do it, Mike. We’re nearly there. We need to find Dara.”

  He sighs.

  “OK. You’re the boss. But should we call for backup to check on this house? Something’s not right.”

  “No point. We won’t get it. Stewart said we could only have backup if we find Dara. Let me find out what’s going on from Lisa, here, on my own, and then I’ll decide.”

  They back off, and I get in the car. I can see Lorraine through the back windshield, getting in the car behind with Mike and Damien. She looks worried. Lisa is still standing beside my car, and I guess she’s wondering if she should make a run for it. But she won’t. She keeps looking back at the house. I look at her properly now.

  She’s about nineteen, as I guessed from the CCTV pictures. About five feet tall, maybe slightly taller, and skinny. Drugs, probably. Her hair is very long and blonde, and it strikes me that she can find the time and the money to peroxide her hair, but not to care for her daughter.

  Finally, she gets in. She’s labored, like she’s hurt. I want to ask her what’s wrong, but I’m finding it difficult. The words stick in my throat. So I stick to business.

  “Where’s Dara?”

  “A woman called Christine’s got her. I recognized the van in the paper.”

  “When? When did you recognize it?”

  “Monday or Tuesday. I think.”

  I shake my head. I can see Mike in the rearview mirror now, holding his hands up and tapping his watch.

  “You think? It’s Thursday now, Lisa. Thursday. Did you not think to ring us when you saw it?”

  She’s crying now. Big tears, rol
ling down her pallid skin.

  “No phone. Please get someone to go in there. There’re others. You don’t know what they’re doing in there.”

  “First things first. Where’s Dara?”

  She stares straight ahead. She doesn’t trust me.

  “Just keep driving. I’ll tell you when.”

  And I don’t trust her. I set off and the others follow.

  “So how did you meet Christine?”

  She shrugs.

  “I put an ad in the paper for someone to mind Elise. Is she all right?”

  “And then what happened?”

  “She’d have her when I was working. I’d drop her off in Ashton, and she’d babysit her until I got off work.”

  I look at her out of the corner of my eye.

  “Working? What were you doing?”

  “Working at Brian Jameson’s club.”

  Brian Jameson’s club. A knocking shop. Lap dancing bar covering for a brothel.

  “At night?”

  I can feel my temper rising. I used to work night shifts, but I’d always made sure Aiden was cared for. In his own bed. Safe. She’s nodding now. I remember this first time we saw Elise, how she was crying and cold. Then at the assessment center, unresponsive except for when the phone rang. Fixated on the screen. How Damien said that she’s spent a long time in front of the TV.

  “Did you ever leave Elise alone overnight?”

  She nods. I can feel my voice rising louder in my throat.

  “Did you, Lisa? Did you leave your daughter alone overnight?”

  She screams loudly.

  “Yes! Yes! Satisfied now? Now you’ve got me here? Now you can have a go? Take me back there. Take me back. Just leave me here. I’d rather just get out here than you judge me.”

  I slam on the brakes in the middle of the country road.

  “Oh no. I haven’t finished with you yet.”

  Chapter 29

  I pull over onto the side of the road. I need to get her onside. I need to know more about this Christine. The clock’s ticking and I need to get her to take me to Dara. Lisa gazes toward the moorland that stretches out toward the black hills in the distance. I can see the other two cars pull over, behind me. She holds out her arms.

  “Arrest me then. Go on. Arrest me. Take me to the station. At least I’ll be safe there.”

  I’m fuming. I need to get to Dara but I need information from Lisa.

  “No. I won’t. And you don’t call the shots here. I do.”

  She’s crying her heart out.

  “I never have. Can’t you see that? I never have. I’ve not had one bit of control over my own life. Used by Mum and Dad as a babysitter. Used by a criminal for a bit of amusement. Then to breed. Then when I try to do the right things and grass on him, he takes my kid and no one will get her back. So I run and get her myself. And keep running. And end up in Brian fucking Jameson’s grasp.”

  She wipes her nose on her sleeve.

  “And look. I’m still running.”

  “So how does this make leaving your baby in the street right? Eh? Or leaving her alone in front of the TV while you go out? What’s wrong with stacking shelves in Tesco, like everyone else? And getting a childminder? I’m sorry, Lisa. I need to understand.”

  She cries harder now. Her face is red and blotchy, her skin a kind of pale translucent blue.

  “Because I’m not me. I’m not Lisa. I had to change my name so he wouldn’t find me, and I’ve got no documents. The other me, the one before Declan got my NI number. So no benefits for me. I don’t even have a birth certificate for Elise. I stole his daughter, and he said he’d kill me. If he hadn’t gone to Ireland when I grassed him up, he would have found me by now. ‘Specially since you put me all over the papers.”

  She leans closer to me now.

  “Can’t you see? Can’t you? I’ve been scared to death. I had to do anything I could to earn money for Elise. And in the end it got too much.”

  “Declan? Declan Connelly?”

  I look closer. It’s the girl I interviewed about the Connelly case years ago. The one who had Declan’s baby. He had a contract out on her. It was her baby’s bonnet strung up on those wires. Elise’s.

  “We’ve met before.”

  She stares at me.

  “You’re that copper who helped me get away, aren’t you? When I was pregnant? So you should know what I’ve been through. What I knew about. Why all this has happened.”

  My mind flickers over the dead boys I had found in a meat factory not so long ago, and the one’s left alive and begging for their mums, Connelly’s doing. And she knew. That’s why she’s been running. I ask her again, more gently now. I’m starting to understand.

  “So you left her with someone you hardly know?”

  “Yes. Yes, I did. Because you know what? She would have had more of a chance with almost anyone than with me or her father. So I left her. I thought Christine was going to pick her up, so I ran. I gave myself three months to get myself sorted out, and then I would go back for her. How the fuck was I to know Christine wasn’t kosher? She had certificates. She had everything Elise needed.”

  I see Lorraine approach the car and I wind my window down.

  “Jan. Dara. We need to . . .”

  “Give me a minute. Just give me a minute.”

  She backs off, and I look at Lisa. A scrap of a girl. Tiny. Lost.

  “But you would have had to live all your life knowing you left your daughter in the street. Turned your back and walked off.”

  “Yes. Yes. I did. But she’s more important than me. More important than anything. Why do you think I left the playlist? I hoped and prayed that someone would put it together and play it to her and that she’d remember me.”

  I think again about the assessment center.

  “We did. And she did remember you. And Katy Perry.”

  “Good.”

  “Is that all? Good?”

  “Yes. Because she was dry and warm and had people around her. I bet she’s with people who care about her right now. Have you got kids?”

  I nod. Aiden. I’m tempted to check my phone, but I don’t.

  “Well, you know how I feel then. You want the best for them. You want them to be happy. And I figured out quickly that to keep Elise happy sometimes involved me doing something I didn’t want to. You’ve no idea what I’ve had to do for money. But I did it for her. Not for pleasure or for drugs, although the drugs helped to numb out the horror. I almost died for her.”

  But I’m still stuck on Aiden. Her words drift through the emotionally charged air. You want them to be happy. And that involves doing something you don’t want to. I don’t want to accept that Sal’s got Aiden and that Aiden was happy to go. But I saw it. I saw him at the airport, laughing and joking with Sal as they left for another life.

  I stare at Lisa. We’re so different. Me with my carefully balanced child care and my career. Having Aiden at twenty-seven and continuing to work, all planned. Her, with her chaotic life. But the one thing that unites us is that both our children are absent. And we’re both trying to make sense of the searing pain it brings to us, even though we know, in some fucked up way, that they are happy.

  I gaze at her and repeat her last words.

  “Almost died for her.”

  She takes it as a question. I glance around at Damien and Mike. Mike’s doing the wind-it-up signal. But she hasn’t finished yet. My brain is constantly weighing the balance between finding Dara and getting information from Lisa. I need that address.

  “Yeah. Almost died. Do you know what it’s like to know you will be dead in a couple of hours? Do you?”

  She’s screaming, and her voice is echoing through the car window into the valleys and up the hills.

  “What are you talking about? You just walked out of Charleston House. No one came after you. What’s this about, Lisa?”

  She calms a little. She’s thinking what to say next, and I’m losing patience.

  “Can’t
find the words for the next lie, eh? Just tell the truth, Lisa.”

  She shakes her head.

  “No. I’m going to tell you once. Once.”

  Her voice is getting louder and louder.

  “I can only say it once. If you don’t believe me, then it will be your fault when something bad happens. I’ve done my bit.”

  Damien comes over and gets into the car. He touches her shoulder. She jumps and goes to hit him. Stretching behind her.

  “It’s OK. What is it? What do you want to say?”

  She looks from me to him and then back to me. Her mouth is opening and closing and Damien’s nodding. Finally, she speaks.

  “They’re making porn movies. In the house. They’re keeping girls there.”

  Mike and Lorraine head are listening now, standing by Damien beside the open car door now. Lorraine joins in.

  “Keeping girls there, love? How? I’m not saying you’re lying, Lisa, but we just saw you walk out of there. The door wasn’t locked. Yes, you were upset, but you don’t look hurt. And they can’t keep girls there forever, or else they’d come and tell us. Like you have now. Wouldn’t they, love?”

  She’s pulling her jacket around herself now and wiping her nose on her sleeve again.

  “They don’t come out. They . . . they . . .”

  Damien shakes his head in disbelief.

  “No. Lisa. No. Don’t say that.”

  She stares at me.

  “They kill them.”

  She shows me the small bruise and pinprick on the back of her hand.

  “I was lucky last time. Only bruises for me. Patched me up for next time. But they film it all. Even at the end, they film it. And if you try to run . . .”

  I remember the sand on the driveway. Mike’s already on the way to his car.

  “I’ll take the other three and get back there. I’ll call for backup when I get there. You get on to find Dara.”

  She’s shaking now, and Lorraine pulls her cardigan around her.

  “So can you see now why I left Elise? I’m nineteen years old. I make bad decisions. But at least I had the sense to get her away from them.”

  Damien speaks now. He’s pale and shocked, but calm.

  “OK, Jan?”

  I’m not OK. I’m far from it. I can’t understand, even with my experience of the police, that there’s a world like the one Lisa describes stagnating beneath the day-to-day lives of normal people. But what’s normal? Up to a couple of years ago, Sal and I were Mr. and Mrs. Normality. Or so I thought.