Hunting Shadows

by Bugler, Sheila

  He nodded. ‘She loves drawing. There was this competition last year in Lewisham Library. You had to draw a picture that represented what it was like living in Lewisham and the winner had their drawing in the newspaper. Jodie won it.’

  ‘What did she draw?’ Ellen asked.

  His eyes filled with tears and he shook his head. ‘I heard what Mum said,’ he whispered. ‘In the kitchen. You think my dad has something to do with this. Just because he was in prison before. But he’s not like that. He’s not some perv or, like, someone bad. He only went to prison ’cause he was trying to protect this girl. You’re not going to arrest him, are you?’

  Ellen wished he was younger so she could give him a hug. But his body language, so tense and confrontational, told her this would be utterly the wrong thing to do.

  ‘Finlay,’ she said. ‘I promise you I’m not going to arrest anyone for something they didn’t do. I want to find Jodie and I want to find the person who’s taken her. If she’s been taken. You know, it’s possible she’s just run away or there’s some perfectly normal explanation for where she is. It’s far too early to start worrying about things that may never happen.’

  For the first time since she’d been here, the boy’s face showed some sign of life.

  ‘Do you really think that?’ he asked. ‘That she might have run away? She could have, you know. She had this big fight with Dad this morning. I heard them at it before I left.’

  Easy, Ellen thought. Don’t rush it, don’t let him know this is important or he’ll clam up.

  ‘I row with my kids all the time,’ she said. ‘Especially my son. It’s part of family life, I guess. So what was this row about then?’

  ‘She has these new trainers,’ Finlay said. ‘She wanted to wear them to school, but Dad wouldn’t let her. And sometimes when she goes on and on about something he gives in and lets her do what she wants. It drives Mum mad when he does that.’

  Ellen smiled. ‘I do the same. Sometimes it’s easier than listening to the constant moaning. I take it your Dad wasn’t so easy-going this morning?’

  Finlay shook his head, but before he could say anything else, his father appeared at the bottom of the stairs.

  ‘Everything okay up there?’ he shouted up.

  ‘Fine,’ Ellen replied. ‘We were just chatting, that’s all.’

  But the moment was gone. The boy had already turned and was running down the stairs, two at a time, to where his father waited. Almost, Ellen thought, like he was scared of what his father would do if he realised Finlay had been talking to her.

  17:15

  Downstairs, Ellen found both parents in the kitchen with Abby. There was no sign of Finlay.

  ‘What happens now?’ Kevin asked.

  ‘Jodie’s photo has been sent out to police stations across the country,’ Abby said. ‘Police officers will be working through the night, doing everything they can to find her.’

  ‘There’ll be press coverage, too,’ Ellen said. ‘DCI Baxter’s been working with our press team this afternoon, devising a media strategy.’

  ‘So there’ll be journalists poking their noses into our business?’ Kevin asked.

  ‘It’s unavoidable, I’m afraid,’ Ellen said, thinking if it was her child, the last thing she’d care about would be intrusive journalists. Not if it helped find her daughter. She nodded at Abby. ‘DI Roberts will be with you the whole time. She’ll handle any press enquiries.’

  ‘Absolutely.’ Abby cut in, not seeming to care that Ellen hadn’t finished. ‘Listen, Helen and Kevin. It’s very possible we’ll find Jodie sooner rather than later. In that case, you’ve got nothing to worry about.’

  ‘What if we don’t?’ Helen’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

  ‘We’ll find her,’ Ellen said, meaning it. She had Jodie’s smiling face in her head now. They would remain there until the girl was safely back home again.

  Ellen left soon after, instructing Abby to call her later with an update.

  ‘Walk me to my car first,’ she said. ‘I need a word in private.’

  Abby looked like she was about to protest but, wisely, she kept her mouth shut and followed Ellen outside. At the car, Ellen unlocked the door before turning to the FLO.

  ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘We’re going to have to work together, Abby. Whatever differences we’ve had in the past, I suggest we put those to one side for now and concentrate on the case. What do you say?’

  Abby flushed. ‘You went around telling everyone I’d slept with the boss. A bit difficult to put that to one side and just pretend it never happened. Do you know what a hard time I had when I started in CID because of that?’

  ‘Two things,’ Ellen said. ‘One, you never should have slept with Baxter. It was unprofessional and stupid. Two, I damn well didn’t go around telling everyone what you got up to. However your grubby little secret got out, it wasn’t from me.’

  The expression on Abby’s face made it clear she didn’t believe that. Ellen didn’t care.

  ‘I’ll ask Baxter to assign a different FLO,’ she said. ‘If that’s what’s required. I need someone I can trust. Not someone who’ll ignore explicit instructions from the boss because she’s got some misplaced grudge against me.’

  ‘What instructions?’ Abby demanded. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Like hell you don’t, Ellen thought.

  ‘Baxter told you to brief me before coming over here this afternoon,’ Ellen said.

  Abby shook her head. ‘No he didn’t. If he had, I would have done that. What sort of idiot do you think I am that I’d ignore a specific order?’

  She sounded genuinely aggrieved, but unless Ed was seriously losing the plot, Ellen didn’t believe Abby. But getting into all that now would be petty and pointless. She needed to focus on Jodie. They both did.

  ‘Bottom line, Abby. We have to get on. Somehow. So let’s put our differences aside for now and concentrate on what really matters. Okay?’

  Abby nodded. ‘Fine with me. But you’re wrong about T– Oh Lord, it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘What doesn’t?’

  ‘Nothing. Things are complicated, that’s all.’

  Abby looked like she was about to burst into tears. Dear God, Ellen thought, she’s not in love with him? Sex for promotion was one thing. A soppy love affair something else entirely and the last thing Ellen needed right now.

  ‘Tell me about Kevin,’ she said.

  ‘What about him?’

  It was like prising open a pit bull’s jaws.

  ‘Do you think he’s capable of killing his step-daughter and hiding the body?’

  Abby frowned as she considered her answer. ‘He is a bit odd,’ she said. ‘But he doesn’t strike me as nasty. More nervous, really. Like he’s scared of something.’

  ‘Scared of what?’ Ellen asked.

  Abby gave a withering look. ‘What do you think? His little girl’s missing. Of course he’s scared. Wouldn’t you be?’

  ‘He says he was in Lewisham this morning,’ Ellen said, ignoring the question. ‘Do you believe him?’

  ‘Not sure,’ Abby said. ‘But I’ll find out. I’ve already got Helen on side. And Finlay. Kevin’s taking a bit more work, but I’ll get there. I always do.’

  I bet, Ellen thought.

  She looked down Dallinger Road, spotted the pair of uniforms carrying out the door-to-doors. She needed a quick word with them, then back to Greenwich to get the kids.

  ‘Call me tonight,’ she told Abby. ‘We’ll talk then. In the meantime, get back in there and work your magic on Kevin Hudson. Find out what he’s hiding. Got that?’

  ‘Got it.’

  The FLO turned and went back into the house. As she watched her go, the image of Abby and Ed rushed to the front of Ellen’s mind again. She hoped this wasn’t going to happen every time she had to deal with Abby Roberts. If it did, Ellen might have to seriously reconsider her decision to come back to work.

  18:00

 
It’s cold. I want my mum. I don’t know where I am. There’s this man. He … I was on my way to school. My dad was angry because we were late. I hate when he gets like that and maybe it was my fault. Because I was angry with Dad and I was thinking about that instead of where I was.

  What’s that noise? NO. Go away! But he won’t go. The light comes into the room and I go under the quilt. I’m praying to God, really begging him, but He doesn’t listen. The man’s right close to me now. I can hear him. Breathing.

  ‘Marion?’

  Please. Go.

  He starts to pull the quilt back and I’m screaming at him but he’s not listening and he’s so big. He’s so big, he’s a giant and I’m remembering that film we saw with the big giants. What was it called?

  He’s on the bed, beside me. I’m trying to hit him, to keep him away, but it’s like hitting a statue or something.

  ‘Look what I’ve got.’

  He’s big and ugly and his teeth are all yellow and there’s this stinky smell, like an onion.

  ‘Fairy cakes. The ones you like, with pink icing.’

  I’m going to be sick. I can taste it. I can’t be sick. He’s got this weird look on his face and I’m thinking about what Mum said about never talking to strangers, but if I don’t tell him, then I’ll be sick all over him and he’ll get angry.

  He’s holding up a fairy cake and the smell of it. The sick comes and it’s on me and my tummy hurts and I’m crying and I can’t stop and he’s saying something but there’s this noise in my head. Like a hurricane. And I can’t hear anything else properly.

  He puts his hand on my shoulder and I scream. I think I scream. I can’t hear anything except that screaming wind inside my head.

  18:30

  ‘Ah, there you are.’ Mrs Flanagan came to meet Ellen as she let herself into her parents’ house.

  ‘You look exhausted, pet. I thought you were meant to be getting back into it slowly? And only doing part-time hours. What’s happened, Ellen?’

  ‘Did you catch the news this evening?’ Ellen asked.

  ‘The girl?’ Her mother nodded. ‘I thought that’s what it was. Listen, Ellen, isn’t it too soon to be taking on a big case like this? Another missing person, too. There’s no shame in saying you’re not ready. I’m sure Ed would understand.’

  Ellen gave her mother a hug. ‘I’m fine, Mum. To be honest, it feels good to be back. Although, of course I wish it was working on something less horrible. She’s only ten. Not much older than Pat.’

  ‘Well I know you’ll do your best,’ her mother said. ‘Just like always.’

  A shriek from the sitting room made them both jump.

  ‘Your dad,’ Ellen’s mother said, smiling. ‘He’s playing that ridiculous game. Buckaroo. In there on his hands and knees, running around with the two of them on his back, trying to buck them off. He looks a right eejit, I can tell you. And at his age. He’ll do his back in and that’s all we need. Then I’ll have him to look after along with your two.’

  Ellen followed her mother down the narrow hallway of her childhood home and into the sitting room. She remembered Buckaroo from when she was young. Even then, it hadn’t been a game her mother had approved of. Although in those days, Ellen was sure her mother’s protests had to do with damage to furniture and not concern for her husband’s back.

  Her mother opened the door and, sure enough, there was her father, on his hands and knees, with Eilish on his back. As Ellen watched, her father gave an almighty roar – ‘Buckaroo!’ – and reared up onto his knees. Eilish flew off his back and landed on the carpet in a giggling heap.

  Ellen lifted her daughter into the air, swinging her around before pulling her in for a hug.

  ‘Mummy!’ Pat jumped off the sofa and joined them, wrapping his arms around Ellen’s lower body. She dropped to her knees and managed to grab Pat into her embrace as well. Together, all three of them tumbled to the ground, legs, arms, bodies coiling around each other. Ellen, on her back, gazing at the plaster cracks in the ceiling, pulled her children close and listened to them telling her about their day, shouting over each other to get her attention.

  Outside, it was dark. In the furthest parts of her mind, she had a memory of being left in the dark, as a very young child – herself and Sean, before they were adopted. Locked in a room with no electricity, not knowing when, or if, anyone would come and get them. Trying to block out the sound of their baby sister, crying. She was always crying.

  Ellen’s mind drifted to Jodie Hudson. Was she alone somewhere? At least Ellen always had Sean, someone to stick with during the worst, early years of their childhood. She hoped Jodie wasn’t alone. Hoped that no matter where she was, she was with someone who would protect her and make her feel safe. It was foolish and naïve to think like that, she knew, but she held onto the thought anyway, not wanting to consider the alternatives.

  * * *

  Ellen gave Pat a final goodnight kiss and switched on his night light. After checking on Eilish, fast asleep in her own room, she came back downstairs. This was the worst moment of each day. She suspected it might never get easier.

  A lot of things had become bearable. She could walk down a street now, without imagining every man with red hair was Vinny. The smell of garlic no longer induced overwhelming memories of Saturday evenings, relaxing with a glass of wine while he cooked dinner. Hours at a time could pass now without his death being foremost in her mind.

  But this, coming downstairs to an empty house after the kids had gone to bed, this felt as hard as it had the first night. Both children had slept in her bed that night, and for many nights after as well. She’d stayed with them, Eilish already asleep, not really old enough to realise what had happened, Pat sobbing as Ellen stroked his head.

  Later, long after Pat had gone asleep, she had come down to the kitchen. She’d stood here, drinking wine and staring out at the garden, thinking that she’d never felt so alone. Not knowing then that this was how she was always going to feel from now on.

  She wasn’t alone, of course. Not really. She had her parents practically down the road in Fingal Street. Sean and Terry were only across the river in Limehouse. And she had the kids, who, more than anything else, kept her going.

  She wasn’t alone and she was lucky. Her parents helped so much. They’d always been there for her. Never more so than in those dark months following Vinny’s death. And now, here they were again, propping her up so that she could satisfy this need to return to work.

  Thinking of her parents, Ellen’s thoughts shifted – briefly – to the first mother she’d had. Noreen. Mostly, she managed not to think about her but there were occasions, like now, when her birth mother pushed her way through to the front of Ellen’s mind.

  It was inevitable, Ellen supposed, given the day she’d had. A missing child was bound to trigger memories. But she was damned if she was going to indulge those memories. Her sister was dead; her mother long gone. There was nothing she could do about either of those things and, in the case of her mother, nothing she would want to do anyway.

  Pushing Noreen to the back of her mind, where she belonged, Ellen switched on the kitchen light, walked to the wine rack and withdrew a bottle at random. Côtes du Rhône. She poured a healthy measure into a John Rocha wine glass and breathed in the smell – liquorice, vanilla and forest berries. Lovely. She took a sip, letting it linger in her mouth, savouring the flavour.

  Glass in hand, she wandered through the dividing door that separated the kitchen from the sitting room. Since Vinny’s death, the kitchen seemed obscenely large for one person. In the evenings, she never stayed there any longer than she had to.

  She switched on a side lamp and sat in front of her laptop. Her head was full of Jodie and she needed to write everything up, get her thoughts in order. She worked solidly for two hours, going through her emails, writing notes, making a list of outstanding tasks.

  When she’d finally done as much as she could, it was ten o’clock. She was tired but wired, not read
y for bed yet. She’d been expecting a call from Ed but, so far, he hadn’t been in touch.

  Her glass was empty. In the kitchen, she refilled it, then went back in the sitting room and called Ed. When he answered, he didn’t sound pleased to hear from her.

  ‘What is it?’ he barked.

  ‘I’ve sent you my update,’ Ellen said. ‘But I thought you might want to talk things through as well. You usually do.’

  Any other time, Ed would ball her out for not keeping him updated during an important case like this. Damned if she did, damned if she didn’t.

  ‘It’s a quarter-past ten at night,’ Ed said. ‘Unless you’ve got something worth telling me, I’m sure it could wait.’

  ‘You’re right about Kevin Hudson,’ Ellen said. ‘He is hiding something. The only problem is, I’m not sure if it’s got anything to do with Jodie.’

  Ed snorted. ‘Course it has. What else could it be?’

  ‘All sorts of things,’ Ellen said. ‘What if he’s having an affair, for example? Wouldn’t that be a reason to be so evasive? Or maybe he’s got some sort of dodgy job or he’s running drugs or, oh I don’t know. But there could be all sorts of reasons he’s being evasive.’

  As she was talking, she opened her internet browser and typed Molly York’s name into the search engine. A moment later, the first page of 1,090,000 results flashed up on her screen.

  ‘I’ve asked Malcolm to look for any connection with Molly York,’ Ellen said. ‘Just in case.’

  ‘I thought I told you to concentrate on Hudson,’ Ed said.

  ‘And that’s what I’ve done,’ Ellen replied. ‘But we should check other angles as well. No stone unturned, isn’t that what you’re always telling us?’

  ‘I also expect you to do what you’re told,’ Ed said. ‘And right now that’s to find out whatever the hell it is that Kevin Hudson is hiding. Got that?’

  Then he said something that really riled. ‘I’ve just spoken with Abby. She’s doing a great job with the Hudsons. There’s a café in Manor House Gardens. Apparently Hudson goes there every morning after dropping Jodie to school.’