by Joy Ellis
‘Cat? Fancy a coffee, and maybe a doughnut?’
‘Someone say “doughnut?”’ Dave’s head jerked up.
‘Yes, old mate, I’ll get you one too, never fear.’
Cat rubbed hard at her own shoulder. ‘Are you thinking about Café des Amis?’
‘I certainly am.’
‘Then I’ll grab a few moments’ break and walk round with you. I need to stretch my legs.’ Due to an injury in the line of fire, Cat found sitting for long periods very uncomfortable. She pulled a black leather jacket from the back of her chair and slipped it on. ‘What’s yours, Davey-boy? A skinny latte?’ Cat grinned at her partner.
‘Full fat milk and three sugars, as if you didn’t know, cheeky!’
The two women left the office and made their way down to the foyer.
‘Is it my imagination or is everyone a bit subdued today?’ Cat slipped her arm through Jessie’s. ‘Especially you, my friend.’
‘It’s nothing, really.’ Jess didn’t want to talk about what was bothering her. It would sound so trivial to anyone else, but to her it was an all-encompassing ache.
‘Come on, this is Cat, remember? Your bestest friend in all the world?’
Jessie was forced to smile. Then she sighed. ‘It’s Graham’s birthday.’
The three words hung in the air. They needed no explaining.
Cat stopped walking. ‘Oh shit! I’m such a plank! I should have remembered! I’m sorry, Jess.’
‘Why should you? It’s ancient history now, isn’t it?’
‘Not for you it isn’t.’
And it wasn’t. Eighteen months ago she had been in a happy relationship with the man she loved. They had lived together and were verging on making the “big commitment,” when she woke up one morning and found that her life had turned upside down. PC Graham Hildred, with his lopsided grin and big heart, had eaten breakfast with her, and as she snuggled back down to sleep after a night shift, he went off to work at Greenborough police station. But he never arrived, and Jessie never saw him again. The romantic, fairy-tale story came to an end.
‘Silly isn’t it? But there you go, I just can’t forget him.’
‘Why should you, Jess? You loved him. How long is it now?’
‘One year, six months, and eight days. And for what it’s worth, I still love him.’ Her eyes had begun to well up. ‘I just want some sort of closure, Cat, just to know if he’s dead or alive, that’s all. Then maybe I could cope better, accept things and get on with my life. It’s the not knowing. I just can’t move on.’
Cat put her arms around her and hugged her tightly. ‘And anniversaries bring it all back, don’t they?’
‘Yeah, don’t they just.’ She pulled out of the embrace and wiped her eyes. ‘And you’re going to think I’m a total flake when I tell you that I bought him a birthday card and put it by his photo.’
Cat looked hard at her. ‘I don’t hear any laughter, do you?’
‘No, but you should be laughing, it’s bloody pathetic.’
‘It’s human, Jessie. If he’d buggered off with another woman, or been killed in an accident, or whatever — something tangible, then yes, I’d definitely report you to the force medical officer, but not the way he disappeared. Even I lie awake wondering what the hell happened, so how you cope, I have no idea.’
Jessie hung her head and whispered, ‘I’m not coping well, Cat. If it wasn’t for the job, I’d be a head case by now, or more of one than I am already.’ She shook her head. ‘Worst thing is, I’m sure he’s alive, but if he is, then where? And why?’ She spread her hands. ‘But this isn’t getting Dave his doughnut, is it?’
* * *
As the time for the four o’clock meeting drew closer, Nikki was starting to feel that nothing had been achieved at all. When she entered the murder room she saw that some of the PM photographs had been attached to the whiteboard. Other than those and the word LILLI, carefully written at the top, there was nothing more to say . . . yet.
Nikki scanned the faces in front of her. ‘Where’s Dave?’
‘Just taking a call in the CID office, ma’am,’ said Joseph. ‘He won’t be long.’
‘So, in his absence, has anyone got anything concrete on Lilli?’
Cat stood up. ‘No one locally of the same or similar name has been reported missing in the last two years, ma’am. I picked up two women with that name on the PNC but the photos don’t match, not by a long stretch.’
‘The Misper list, Jessie?’
‘Nothing so far, ma’am, although I’m still working on it. I have pulled out the names of three young women that went missing within that time frame, but their descriptions don’t quite match. I just thought I would check them out in case they’d changed their hair colour or appearance. I’ll do it when I’ve finished with the list.’’
‘Okay, Jess, I’ll leave that with you. Joseph? Anything at all?’
Joseph shook his head. ‘I’ve been tracing national reports of suspected kidnaps or abductions with ransom demands, but nothing pertains to anyone like Lilli. Sorry, ma’am.’
Nikki sighed. ‘Can’t be helped. We are dancing in the dark until we get some more forensic evidence.’
Dave hurried in and sat down. ‘Sorry I’m late, ma’am. But I have got a few bits of news.’
‘Thank heaven someone has! Go on then.’
‘Well, I’ve had Yvonne and Niall make a few enquiries with their snouts, and they’ve hit on something interesting. Apparently Carver has dropped his multi-faceted criminal career in favour of drugs, and only drugs.’ He opened his pocket book. ‘He was into robbery, people trafficking and protection mainly, plus the odd contract to remove unwanted obstacles that got in his way. Now this nasty piece of work is aiming to be the biggest drugs baron this side of the Channel.’
‘He is back for good, then?’
‘That’s what they’re saying on the grapevine, although he has yet to set up a permanent base.’
‘So where is he staying?’ asked Joseph.
‘No one knows, but Yvonne and Niall think they might be able to work on an old lag that sometimes coughs up some good intel. They’ll report directly to you if they find anything tasty.’
Nikki chewed on the inside of her cheek. ‘So he is back in this country, and he’s been seen here in Lincolnshire. That’s very bad news indeed.’
‘The other thing they found out, ma’am, is that he travels a lot. They think they have a lead on someone who is acting as a driver for him. It seems he’s been in and out of the county a lot, and he’s only been back in England a few weeks.’
Nikki frowned. ‘Setting up a network, no doubt. We need to keep our ears to the ground on anything drug-related around here. If he’s planning on a takeover, there will be casualties.’
‘I wonder if the Leonard family knows anything about Carver turning up here?’ Joseph mused. The Leonards were an old-time criminal family who lived on the infamous Carborough Estate and controlled anything villainous in the local manor.
‘Ask.’ Nikki smiled at him. Joseph did not know the Leonards quite as well as she did, but he had taken one of the younger members of the family under his wing and got the boy out of trouble on several occasions.
‘I’ll ring Mickey, see what he’s heard.’
‘Good idea.’ She looked around. ‘Well, until we have some more reports back in, that’s it. Keep chipping away, because someone is missing a daughter, a sister, a niece or a girlfriend, and we need to find that person.’
‘How about releasing this to the press, ma’am?’ suggested Cat.
‘I want to get more info in before we do that. It might not even be our case.’ She stepped away from the whiteboard. ‘See you all tomorrow, nine sharp.’
As the team dispersed, Joseph walked with her to her office and waited in the doorway. ‘At least I have some good news. Mario’s has opened up again in his new premises. He’d like to see us when we can make it. So, fancy an Italian meal tonight? My treat.’
‘I’ll come if we go Dutch.’ Nikki licked her lips. ‘I’ve missed his potato and leek frittata, with that delicious cheese on top.’
Joseph smiled at her. ‘Ah, the dreamy Taleggio. And I’ve missed his asparagus with four cheese sauce. Let’s pig out, shall we?’
‘It’ll be my pleasure, believe me,’ said Nikki with feeling. ‘I get the feeling that as soon as this investigation gets underway, we will have precious little time left to even grab a sandwich, let alone dine out.’
‘I’ll ring him now.’ Joseph took his phone from his pocket and was soon chatting happily with his old friend. After a few minutes he looked at Nikki and asked, ‘Does Eve like Italian food?’
Nikki thought about it. Eve liked good food, and she was a great cook, but as to specifics, she didn’t know. There was a lot she didn’t know about Eve.
‘I was thinking she is probably still trying to find her feet here in Greenborough. Shall we ask her if she’d like to tag along?’
‘Sure. I’ll call her. Ask Mario to add a provisional extra and we’ll confirm as soon as I know.’
Nikki keyed in her mother’s number and waited for an answer. Eve took a while to pick up.
‘It’s Nikki. Joseph and I are going to an Italian restaurant tonight after work. Can we interest you?’
Eve laughed. ‘Oh you can indeed! I’ve just about had it with unpacking boxes. A glass of Italian wine is exactly what the doctor ordered. Shall I meet you there?’
‘We’ll pick you up on the way, now that you are a local.’ It still felt weird to Nikki. Eve was her biological mother, who Nikki had known nothing about until eighteen months ago. As soon as it became clear that Nikki wanted Eve in her life, she had sold her big house in Coningsby and bought a smaller property on the edge of the town. Nikki tried to see her at least once a week and was slowly finding out about the extraordinary woman that her father had loved.
Nikki ended the call and gave Joseph the thumbs up sign. ‘Seven thirty at Eve’s place, okay?’
He nodded. ‘Perfect.’
* * *
The evening made a welcome contrast to the harrowing day. Because Eve was there, neither Nikki nor Joseph mentioned the investigation, and it did them good to free themselves, even if for a short time, of the sight of the murder room whiteboard and the pictures of Lilli.
Eve put down her glass. ‘I cannot believe my luck with the new house having a garden office. It makes the perfect studio, so I can leave all my paints and artist’s materials out ready to use. It’s a real dream.’
‘What are you working on now?’ asked Nikki.
‘I’m trying out pastel painting. It’s mucky on the fingers, but you get such wonderful blends of colour, especially for dramatic skies. I think pastels are going to become my medium of choice.’
Joseph dabbed his mouth with a napkin. ‘I tried that once. Sad to say, I made a right pig’s ear of it.’
Nikki grinned. ‘Because you don’t like getting dirty, Mr Neat-and-Tidy?’
‘Probably, but more to the point, I’m no artist. It was another therapeutic activity I tried when I left the army. For most people it is a great way to relax, but I found it quite stressful.’
‘How so?’ asked Eve with interest. ‘It is the only thing that relaxes me.’
‘Because one, what I wanted to see on the paper never seemed to materialise, and two, as you say, I hated the dusty pigment all over my hands.’ He shivered and did a Lady Macbeth. ‘Especially the black.’
Eve laughed. ‘I’d try watercolours if I were you, much more genteel.’
‘I think I’ll leave the arty stuff to those of you who are good at it. I’ll stick to catching villains, thanks.’
As he spoke, Nikki saw a shadow fall across his face, and she knew he was thinking once again about Lilli. At that moment she knew this was one case she wanted tied up very quickly, and not just for the sake of the girl and her family, but also for Joseph.
* * *
He had been in all day, although she had only seen him once, when he brought her some supper. He had seemed preoccupied and he hardly seemed to hear her when she told him that she thought her medication was not working, that the pains were getting worse. For a second, consternation had darkened his face, but then he had shrugged his shoulders and was suddenly telling her that this was the last day off he could take for a while, that they were short-staffed at work. She did not like to mention the tablets again.
Perhaps she needed different drugs? Perhaps her body was so used to her usual pills that they no longer had any effect. She stared through the dirty window up to the moonless sky. Its absence gave her some relief. She could sleep easier without the implacable moon regarding her all night. She lay down and pulled the old duvet tighter around her. His going to work was a great relief, but it did bring its own problems, and the worst of all was when he forgot to leave her food. Water was not an issue. If he forgot her flask of tea or coffee, or the jug of orange squash, she could always get water from the basin. It tasted horrible, of metal and of . . . well, she preferred not to think what it tasted of. But she needed her food. She had nothing much else in her life, and a meal was the one thing she looked forward to. For a while she had tried to stockpile dry foods, biscuits and the like, but he never really gave her that much in the first place and she had usually eaten them by evening time.
Food was not the only thing that made her anxious. She was constantly worrying that one day he would not come home. He might have an accident — a car might veer out of control and hit him, he might trip and hit his head. Or even something medical could happen, like a heart attack or a stroke. And then she would die, slowly.
Sometimes, when the pain was really bad, she would try to imagine what it would be like to starve to death. Would she try to eat the mouldy paper from the walls? Her bed linen? Dead flies? How long would it take? At her lowest ebb, she had considered taking her own life, to get it over before that fateful day when she was alone, permanently. But she had him to consider. She should not put him through the anguish of finding her, it wouldn’t be fair on him. He loved her. It would finish him, apart from which, how could she achieve such a feat? He kept her drugs. He always took her cutlery away after her meals and there was nothing sharp in the room. She had no mirror and no pictures. And if, on one of the occasions when he did not use the restraints, she managed to smash a window, could she draw that fatal shard of glass across her own flesh? She doubted it. She was weak, in body and spirit. Please God, that day would never come.
She rocked backwards and forward and tried to think of her mother. Tried to remember her hair, her eyes, her face, the smell of her, the things that she would say, the poems that her mother had read to her. She tried and tried, but the image was hazy. She could only conjure up a few lines from the past, and they all seemed to revolve around death, the thing she was trying to forget.
Then, as the pain and sadness were reaching a crescendo, she saw a star. Just one diamond-bright spot shining through the clouds, and she heard her mother’s voice:
“Do you wish they’d leave
Your bedroom door ajar
So you’d see a golden crack
Shine from afar?
Do you wish a fairy’d come
And light a fairy light,
To glimmer and to shine for you
All through the night?
See, from heaven shine the stars,
Silent, steadfast, true;
God is caring all the time,
Little one, for you.
For the first time in years she saw her mother’s face clearly, smiling with a beautiful radiance. She felt loving arms tighten around her. The soft voice sang the familiar verses that told her frightened daughter that she would sleep in peace.
As a night wind gently moved the clouds away and a cascade of bright stars filled the sky, she closed her eyes and slept.
CHAPTER FOUR
While Superintendent Greg Woodhall finished a phone call, Nikki couldn’t help
staring at the untidy piles of files and folders, books, printouts and crisp packets that passed for a filing system in his office. When Woodhall had taken over from Nikki’s old friend, Rick Bainbridge, the superintendent had been quiet, well-organised and calm in the face of chaos. Over the last year, Greenborough had changed him, evidently not for the better.
‘Well, bloody find it, man! And this side of sodding Easter would be nice!’ Woodhall slammed the phone back into its cradle, and let fly with a string of expletives.
‘They run anger management courses at Greenborough Community Centre, Tuesday evenings at seven.’
‘Very amusing, Inspector.’ He flopped into his seat and rummaged haphazardly around in the jumble of papers on his desk. ‘Right, what have we got so far?
‘She was definitely not imprisoned somewhere local, sir. Professor Wilkinson has just rung me to say that the soil samples taken from her shoes and clothing are not from our area. He’s isolated some pollen and other plant debris and is hoping this will show broadly where the girl was held. Apart from the entomology report that confirms she was only in the potato barn for twelve or so hours, we are no further forward in finding out who she was.’
Nikki pulled a computer-generated picture from an envelope. ‘Rory has sent me this. It’s not quite what I was hoping for, but it’s not too bad. It’s been circulated to all forces. What do you think about hitting the media with it?’
The superintendent took the picture from her and examined the face as if he might know her.
‘Yes, we owe her that much. I’ll try to get the earliest possible slot on the news if you’d send this to the nationals, and get copies to all the local papers too. She might be from out of the area, but it’s worth a go.’ He looked again at the slender features and the dark brown hair. ‘She’d been held captive for six months, you say?’
Nikki nodded. ‘And very badly treated, sir. Let’s just hope someone recognises her.’
‘That finger thing is odd, don’t you think? I mean, that indicates someone trying for a ransom, doesn’t it? So if her people couldn’t pay, why haven’t they reported her missing?’ He shook his head and frowned. ‘It really does not make sense.’