I completely understand where he’s coming from on this, especially with her background, but it’s seldom black or white. Steve’s ‘if…then’ formula gets us so far then I often have to fill in the details. That’s how we work so well together, to a point. But on this one, our basic principles come into play. His experience with the Manchester bomb and the catastrophic damage done to the city that he loves, and my understanding of the human condition.
It’s difficult to see where they will meet in the middle. I can see it in his eyes, the determination that this won’t slip through the net. That the car won’t be allowed anywhere near the city. That what happened to him and thousands of unsuspecting shoppers will never happen again. I don’t expect any softening of his principles to accommodate a young woman with problems. All he’s seeing is the components of a bomb being driven around by someone unstable, and the best way to halt the process is to remove the threat. By any means.
I look at the case notes. He’s already got armed officers on standby and a swat team combing the area for Tina. He may be a quiet man but he’s always calculating, weighing up what the next move is, and the one after that. Check Steve’s strategy and he’ll have everything carefully planned with a number of different options. The only thing that it doesn’t leave room for is instinct. He dislikes instinct just as much as he hates anything being described as personal. He likes to keep it all detached, all clean cuts and divides.
I know it’s not that simple. For all I know Tina’s intention, misguided or not, may be to carry out the Magellan plan to prove she’s part of the gang. Or she may be completely confused and so out of touch with reality, because of her post-natal depression or whatever she has that she’s not thinking straight. Or she goes to Sellafield and she’ll most likely be detained on the way there. Or worse. I try to consider a worst case scenario, but they’re all as bad as each other. She clearly has an end game, otherwise she would just hand herself in. Either way, Maisie is still suffering.
The only ray of hope is the line of communication. I check the phone over and over again. We have a set procedure for contacting perpetrators in this situation. We have her number and Keith would have tried to call her back the first time she called. But he won’t call over and over again, because that might cause her to ditch the phone. But he will call every couple of hours from a withheld number, so we’re not completely relying on her to call us. If she answered he would have patched it through to me in seconds. But she hasn’t.
So I keep checking. Even though it’s got a loud ring I check that there are no missed calls. I look at the case log, rolling up the screen as people report no progress. On the face of it there’s a lot of activity, but all in all we still don’t know where Maisie is.
I look through the huge window of the office into the SMIT suite and everyone is buzzing around urgently. Steve’s arrived now and he’s studying the network feeds from Keith, then he picks up the newspapers and runs his fingers through his hair. His slumped shoulders give him a desperate air and his crumpled suit matches his slouch. A communication officer approaches him and beckons to him and they hurry to a screen, only for him to go back to Keith. All this and we’re getting nowhere. All these resources hunting Tina down, certain that she’s intent on some criminal activity. Maybe she is. Or maybe she’s a mixed up woman seeking a solution to her dilemma, in her own way, and it’s just spiralled out of control.
Steve eventually looks around and sees me. He comes into the office and shuts the door. His forehead is shiny with perspiration and his eyes red-rimmed. He sits down heavily.
‘I’ve been up to see the parents. They’re a lot more upbeat than I am.’
I push the phones around in front of me.
‘Because their daughter is alive.’ It comes out as a statement, but I meant it as a question.
‘We’ll find her soon, Steve. We’re making progress. Closing in.’
I see his eyes rest on the standard issue coms phone.
‘Yeah. We’ll find her. But it’s what’ll happen first that worries me.’
Now would be a good time to raise my theory about Tina’s state of mind but it’s tricky. Steve’s a brilliant police officer, but he’s subject to the usual stigma about people’s mental health. Crazy. Nuts. Demented. He uses all these words to mean anything slightly outside the norm he has set for people who are law abiding citizens.
I consider the situation carefully. I might spend all my time chasing criminals now, but during my profile training I learnt that the basic opinion of the public on people who commit crime is either bad or mad. Bad in terms of evil and mad in terms of not in charge of their faculties. It’s just not as clear cut as this. Of course people who make criminal decisions based on their lack of morals should be punished. They’ve purposely done something bad. But mental health problems can skew that sense of right and wrong. At one end of the scale there’s desperation fuelled by all sorts of cultural problems. Depression can seriously affect someone’s view of the world, as can schizophrenia. At the other end of the scale are psychopaths.
I think again about the difference is between my own view and Steve’s. He believes that people know right from wrong and goes entirely on that basis, until they are in court and then reports are obtained. I prefer to try to understand the psych of the perpetrator, imagine how they may be feeling. This can predict their next move.
The end result using Steve’s method and my own method is clear. Chase a single scenario and there’s a bigger chance of the perpetrator getting away. Try to pre-empt them and there’s a better chance of catching them. Mapped onto Maisie’s abduction, both of us know the stakes. Chase Tina all over Saddleworth as per Steve’s current plan and she can either feel cornered and do the unthinkable or she can simply drive through to Huddersfield and dump the car, taking Maisie with her. My approach would be to carry on communications and gain trust. That way we can get everyone out of this alive.
We sit looking at each other and I know he’s waiting for me to soften his stance, suggest a way to dissolve his harsh scenario into something more manageable, more pliable. More understandable. I know the script as well as he does. That’s why we’re sitting in the room. It’s the turning point. There’ll be tantrums and tears but in the end we’ll make a decision now as to how this will end. He starts the dance.
‘So what you got, Jan?’
‘On top of Glen’s statement about Tina, I went to see her mother.’ He rolls his eyes. He already sees where this is going. ‘She mentioned that Tina had been acting strangely since Jennifer’s birth. Lauren and I went to Tina’s address and it was scrubbed clean. I don’t think she intends to come back.’
A vein in his temple begins to throb. His pupils recede and his skin flushes slightly.
‘Scrubbed clean?’
‘Yes. Most personal belongings removed and the whole place deep cleaned. She knew we’d be there and she didn’t want to leave a mess. But she was going somewhere with Jennifer.’ I look at the desk. Steve’s stress levels are sky high now and what I say next is not going to help at all. ‘My best guess is that she has post-natal depression.’
He stares at me for a moment. Then he bangs his fist hard on the table.
‘Post-natal fucking depression? Is that some kind of excuse for taking a child? Taking a one year old from their bed? Stealing a car full of explosives? You haven’t even spoken to her yet and you’re pinning some namby pamby label on her. Jesus, Jan.’
I’ve seen him like this before. Lots of times. I hold my nerve.
‘All I’m saying is that her state of mind may be troubled.’
He jumps up and knocks the police issue plastic chair flying.
‘Troubled? Troubled? I’d say it was more than troubled. She needs to be stopped. She’s driving that car around the city. My city and…’
I raise my voice just enough to counter him.
‘Our city, Steve. And this isn’t primarily about the car. Or the explosives. Like Petra says, they’re unlikely
to be primed to explode. Glen said they were stored separately in their raw form.’ I look him in the eye. ‘It’s not as if someone has parked a bomb up under a bridge in the city centre, is it?’
He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again. He probably hadn’t even realised that he was projecting his own agenda onto the case, but he’s in no doubt now. I continue.
‘This is about Maisie Lewis. Running Tina into a corner isn’t going to make things any better for Maisie. You’ve heard the recording of the phone calls. She’s in the front of the car crying, with deafening noise playing. Things are already bad, Steve, and putting Tina under more pressure by sending SWAT after her isn’t going to turn out well.’
I can completely understand how he connects this case with his past, and how he predicts the same outcome. I saw his whole expression contort when ammonium nitrate was first mentioned. He wasn’t the only one. Anyone involved in Greater Manchester Police at that time would have the same reaction. But this isn’t the same. Not exactly, anyway. That bomb was primed, had a trigger. As far as we know, this one doesn’t. He rubs his face.
‘But what if she heads for the nuclear plant? To carry out the Magellan plan?’
‘I don’t think she will. She had some pictures in her flat, family stuff from the past. She took it with her. I think it might be a photograph from her childhood, it was in a series. It seems like she has a chronology of the things that were important in her life. Linked to places. Linked to home. And she took the one after her early childhood. Look, Steve. If she heads for the city then I’ll leave it to you. But while she’s still up on the moors, let me try to talk to her.’
He sits down.
‘I don’t like it, Jan. If it were just the kid. Now you’re talking about some crazy woman who can use this to get her off the hook. And we’re helping her do that.’
I stand up. I know in my heart that I’m going to do it my way.
‘No. I’m not trying to excuse her. What I’m trying to say is that if she has post-natal depression she could do anything. Anything, Steve. We initially thought that she had a couple of options, a decision making process based on Magellan. If I’m right, it means the situation is even more dangerous.’
Chapter Nineteen
Steve leans forward as it slowly sinks in. Everything we previously strategized for is thrown out now, and a new game comes into play. The realisation that I’m not trying to be a do-gooder and make excuses for someone transforms his features, and he crumbles.
‘So what do you think she’ll do, Jan?’
I turn the comms phone round and round between my fingers while I think of an answer.
‘Not sure. It’s not clear cut. It’s pretty clear that she’s not thinking straight. It’s why she took Maisie that’s stumping me. She could do anything, planned or unplanned. She could even intend to carry out the Magellan plan. Or she might just decide to. That’s the nature of it. She’ll be feeling confused and off the scale. The situation is unpredictable. But on the positive side, if she’s got a problem and I can convince her that I can help her she might deliver Maisie right to us.’
He still looks unsure. It’s a long shot but it’s a safe option for Maisie.
‘OK. Give it a go. But there has to be a compromise. That we carry on looking for her while you try to make contact. I’ll call off the SWAT team but keep the cordon around the city. And I’m going to escalate the search. We’ve only been using road vehicles at the moment. I’m going to deploy the helicopter. Optimise the heat seeking element. If she’s hiding somewhere then it’s the best chance we’ve got.’
He’s right. The darkness of the moor at night makes it difficult to see a foot in front of you, even with a full moon. I can think for more than twenty places that Tina could be hiding, even with a silver Range Rover. The helicopter would be able to find her even if she was amongst the dense canopy of the fir trees, or had driven into a derelict barn. I nod my agreement.
‘That’s sound like the best plan. I’ll escalate efforts to make contact and next time I have her on the line I’ll up the ante. She wouldn’t be calling if she didn’t want to cooperate.’
‘Let’s hope so. For everyone’s sake.’
We’re interrupted by Keith, who opens the door a little and leans through.
‘Pat Knowles on the meeting screen for you.’
I push a button and Pat’s face appears. He’s checking his phone and caught off guard.
‘Oh. Jan. Good to see you. And you Steve. Just checking in for an update.’
I let Steve fill him in.
‘Still tough, Pat. We’ve got a comms link on and off with Tina Durose and we’ve heard Maisie Lewis in the car. Alive and well. Jennifer’s at the hospital and we’re just interviewing Tina’s mother. Anything your end?’
Pat’s tapping his pen on the desk. He’s tapping out a drum and bass tune and I realise that he’s still hanging out at the same haunts.
‘We’re waiting to charge Glen Wright, but I want to know what’s in that car first and what state it’s in. If it’s just components, like he says, it’s tricky. But if there’s a detonator included then it’s a different story. We’ve applied for an extension, but at some point we have to charge him. Nothing pertaining to this case from anyone else, but lots of stuff to go on. This Magellan stuff, it ties in with our previous intelligence. Nice work. Gives us lots to go on.’
I watch him, all animated. His hands moving to illustrate his point, and resting in front of him, neatly, as always. I take a breath and join in.
‘Good. So, we’re going to crack on. I’ll be trying to gain Tina’s trust and Steve’s going to try to track her.’
Pat doesn’t speak for a long second. He clears his throat.
‘Good luck. If there’s anything we can do at this end, just let me know. We’ll collate all the case notes and share them with you, the ones we haven’t already. Erm. Jan. Is it possible to have a private word?’
Steve stands up.
‘Yeah, thanks Pat. Nice one. We’ll let you know what happens when we find the car.’
He leaves and I’m faced with Pat on my own. I didn’t want this scenario. But here we are. He’s looking at me, his green eyes clear and alert. No obvious sign of stress, but he has that under control. He used to joke that he could pass any lie detector test. I wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t at first. Then he licks his lips and inclines his head, the way he does outside work, when he’s bothered by something.
‘Jan. Hope you don’t mind me doing this but I read the case notes. I… we were worried about you.’
That’s exactly why I had them separated, so no one would worry. No one would try to take me off the case. Or dig up the past.
‘No need. I’ve got it.’
He nods slowly.
‘I’m sure you have, but after what…’
‘Don’t go there, Pat. And I do mind you doing this. Let’s leave it there.’
He looks at me for a minute longer and I see his hurt, his sadness. It’s like staring into his soul and I don’t want to.
‘OK. If that’s how you want it, but be careful Jan.’
I fold my arms. I will be careful. I’m always careful now.
‘Goes without saying Pat.’
I press the button that ends the call and he’s gone. I’m back in the open top car, my long hair blowing in the wind. One hand on the wheel and the other hand holding a cigarette, which I flick into the breeze. Laughing as I drive through Euston and towards Bloomsbury. Tapping the wheel as Dub Be Good to Me blasts out. People pulling bags along, tugging at their children’s hands. Horns beeping, but I don’t care. I just go with the traffic flow. I’ve nothing to hurry for. Relaxed on a busy Saturday afternoon on London. The smell of pub food making me hungry for the Chinese takeaway I bought, thirsty for the harshness of the neat whiskey as it hits my throat.
I snap out of it quickly. I’d kill for a cigarette right now, but I ignore my cravings and think about my strategy with Tina. I
need to get inside her head. The one thing I know Tina and I have in common is blanking things out with a distraction. My personal distraction is music. It does it for me. It’s a hangover from my teenage rock chick days before life became complicated and serious. There’s still an echo of it left in me, I guess it resounds my determination not to let the weeds of sentimentality choke me.
Tina’s distraction is all emotion. All loss and goodbyes. All wrapped up in death, of course, and quite devastating. She’s dancing, dancing towards the inevitable, confused and hurt and convinced that she’s the girl in the Red Shoes. She's suffering. She's trying to break free from a life that's out of control and her only way of doing it is by running.
All the physical clues make sense now. The clumsiness at the crime scene. The ragged dolls. Why would she be worried about them? She would be long gone. Was she taking Jennifer to London to leave her with Glen? Leaving Jennifer in the hotel room might seem a callous thing to do, but perhaps she was trying to spare her. Or give her a better life by giving her up. But why not adoption?
Because post-natal depression doesn’t give you those kind of sensible options. It eats you up inside, bringing you to the edge of insecurity at what should be the happiest time of your life. Puts a partition between you and your baby and other people. Magnifies your emotions by a million until you can’t stop crying. Strips your self-esteem until the needle rests on fat and ugly. All this when your baby isn’t sleeping and cries every couple of hours for food.
And it doesn’t stop after a few weeks. It gets worse and worse until unless you get help, it throws you off the cliff of reason and begins to invent its own bizarre coping strategies. It makes you feel like another, strange, and unbelonging. It makes you unable to ask for help, because you are too insecure. It makes you want to run away from the baby you wanted so much.
I know this because of the testimonies of thousands of women that are everywhere, maybe even in your own family. Yet it’s still a taboo, still frowned upon, and still unbelieved. Still perceived an excuse because, who, after all can’t love their own baby? What kind of woman would that be? Tina is feeling all these things now. They are all tied up to her own situation.
What I Left Behind (The gripping prequel to the DS Jan Pearce Crime Fiction Series) Page 18