Hunting Shadows

by Bugler, Sheila

He’d really felt for the Hudsons then. Jesus, you wouldn’t wish that on your worst enemy. Worse than dying, it was. At least when you were dead you stopped hurting.

  There was only one thing had kept him going over the years, and that was finding the bastard who’d done that to his Molly. In his head, he’d imagined it over and over. Every scenario you could think of, he’d pictured it. Fantasizing about what he’d do if he ever got a chance.

  He hadn’t expected it to be this easy. Each time he’d gone through it, he’d pictured Sam Spade calling with the news that someone had been arrested. After that, the scene varied according to Rob’s mood. The ending was always the same, though. He always made sure of one thing – that the person who’d ruined his life paid for what he’d done.

  That woman turning up on his doorstep, it was like a sign. Almost made him believe there was a God. He didn’t believe that, of course. You couldn’t see something like that happen to your own daughter and believe in anything much after that.

  This, though, this was good. The first good thing that had happened in a long time. Kevin Hudson. He looked at the photo again. Didn’t look much like a killer. Didn’t look like much at all. Ordinary bloke wearing a denim shirt and smiling. As if a monster like that had any right to be smiling.

  Just went to show that old saying was right. About not judging a book by its cover. Some bollocks like that. Kevin Hudson. A simple phone call, that was all it had taken. Turn on the tears and Bingo! Amazing what people will tell you if you start crying on them. This called for a celebration. First thing he’d had to celebrate in a long time.

  He got up, staggered across the floor and pulled open the cupboard door. At first he couldn’t see the bottle. Hidden behind the box of Cornflakes. When he reached in to get it, the cereal box fell onto the floor and Cornflakes scattered everywhere.

  Who cares, Rob thought. Only bloody Cornflakes. He didn’t even like them. They crunched under his feet as he walked back to the table. He opened the whiskey bottle and looked around for his glass. Couldn’t see it anywhere. He drank straight from the bottle. Whiskey ran down his chin and neck but he didn’t care. Tidy it all up in the morning.

  He felt something under his foot and looked down. Cornflakes all over the floor. How did that happen? Didn’t matter. He didn’t even like Cornflakes. Just bought them out of habit because that’s what they’d always bought. Molly wouldn’t eat Weetabix or Ready Brek, but she’d eat Cornflakes until they came out her ears.

  He sat back down and looked at the mess of papers in front of him. There was something important in there?

  Renata Cash. That’s who he’d called. Recognised the road, didn’t he? Remembered Renata lived on the same street. What was it called? It was here somewhere. He’d written it down. Hadn’t he? He rummaged through the papers, not quite sure what he was looking for but knowing he’d recognise it the moment he found it.

  Hudson’s face was everywhere. The same photo on all these sheets of paper. Hudson in an open-necked denim shirt, clean-shaven and young-looking, smiling at Rob. Mocking him.

  What right did that bastard have to mock him? He’d show Hudson. He’d show him all right. Angry now, he rustled through the pages, trying to find the information he needed. Then he remembered.

  Renata was little Rachel Cash’s mother. A right dopey cow, Renata, but kind with it. One of the few who’d made some effort to stay in touch with him. She lived on the same road he’d seen on all those news reports about Jodie. Rachel was twelve now. First year in ‘big school’. Hired a limo for her party. Renata said they had some great photos and did Rob want her to send him some? Did he fuck. But there was something else she could do for him.

  He stood up. The movement was too quick. His body swayed and he grabbed hold of the table to stop himself falling over. The table shook and the pile of papers slid off, landing with a whoosh on the carpet of Cornflakes, Hudson’s smiling face in amongst Molly’s favourite cereal.

  That wasn’t right. Not right at all. Rob got down on his hands and knees and gathered the paper together, brushing the Cornflakes off as he put them all back onto the table.

  Breathing heavily, he grabbed hold of the leg of the table and tried to haul himself up. But he couldn’t get his body working and he slipped, fell back down to the ground. His head cracked against the floor and for a moment the whole room spun.

  Eventually, things slowed down, stopped. Rob lay where he was, staring up at the bare bulb in the ceiling, noticing the pattern of damp from where the bath leaked. One day, the plaster-work would give and the bath would fall into the kitchen. He supposed he should seal up the cracks around the bath before that happened, but doubted he’d get around to it.

  He remembered, then, what he’d been looking for and shifted on the floor so he could get his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. As he moved, his jumper rode up and bits of broken Cornflakes stuck to his back, scratching him. He pulled out the piece of paper and held it up to his face. He’d told Renata he wanted to write to the Hudsons. Offer his sympathy. It had been that easy.

  The words swam and it took a tremendous effort to focus and read what he’d written, carefully transcribing the address as Renata read it out to him over the phone. Finally, his eyes focussed and he read the words aloud, repeating them until they seemed to echo around the kitchen.

  Kevin Hudson, 80 Dallinger Road, Lee, SE12 0TJ.

  Dallinger Road. Where Rachel Cash lived. Molly used to go there after school. Two days a week while Rob worked. He’d recognised it straight away when he saw it on the TV. Now he had the address, all he had to do was come up with a plan. A way of sorting Kevin Hudson and making sure he never did anything like this again.

  To do things right, he’d need help. Earlier that evening, he’d run through a list of people he knew. Kept coming back to one name – Frankie Ferrari. According to Rob’s neighbour, Vera, Frankie had got out last week and was back home living with his mum.

  Rob glanced at the clock. Nearly midnight. Too late to call Frankie. He’d do it later. Get some sleep first and try to clear his head. He was going to need a clear head for Frankie. A clear head and a good story. There was nothing Frankie liked more than a good story. And nothing he liked less than men like Kevin Hudson. Nonces, that’s what Frankie called them. Had his own special way of dealing with them and all.

  Rob pushed himself up off the floor, smiling now. He was looking forward to speaking with Frankie and hearing just what Frankie had to say when he told him about Kevin Hudson.

  00:01

  I keep thinking they’ll find me. Because they must be looking for me, right? Mummy and Daddy will be worried. They will be worried, won’t they? I miss them. I miss Finlay. He said last week that he hates me, but he doesn’t hate me really. I told him I hated him too, but I don’t. Of course I don’t. I love him and I can’t think about him without getting tears in my eyes.

  I keep thinking of last summer when we were in Spain. It was really hot. Roasting. And I got sick because I ate some prawns that hadn’t been cooked right and I vomited for two days. And after all the vomiting I had to stay in bed and we were in this little house with a swimming pool and the Hutchinsons were in the house beside ours and I hated lying in bed listening to everyone having fun in the swimming pool. And there was this waterfall and they all went one day, except me and Mummy because she had to stay at the house to look after me.

  When they came back, Finlay sat beside me on the bed and showed me all the photos of the waterfall and it made me really sad. And because I was so sad he got the small DVD player that we use in the car and he put on The Sound of Music, which me and Mummy love but he hates only he didn’t hate it this day and he watched the whole thing with me and he was so lovely and cuddled me and we sang all the songs together. And at the end of it he promised that when we go back to Spain this year, he’ll bring me to the waterfall, just me and him and no adults and we’ll have the best time ever.

  And now I’m here. And I keep thinking about how nice
he was to me that day and wondering if we’ll go back to Spain and wondering if they’ll go without me if I’m still here. And I don’t want them to do that. I don’t want to be here anymore and I specially don’t want them to go to Spain without me. Because the Hutchinsons will be there and Amelie is, like, in love with Finlay, even though she’s only the same age as me and he’s way too old for her. But if I’m not there, then he’ll play with her instead of me and take her to the waterfall and watch DVDs with her, and it’s not fair because she’s not even his sister and I really, really don’t want him to be with her because after a bit he’ll forget all about me and if everyone forgets about me, then no one will remember to come and find me and I’ll be here forever and ever.

  And I can’t be here anymore because it’s horrible and I feel sick and all I want to do is go home.

  FRIDAY, 18 FEBRUARY

  09:00

  Friday morning, Ellen got to work early, hoping to get in and out of there before Baxter showed up. He’d already left two messages on her voicemail. So far, she hadn’t found the courage to call him back.

  She went through her emails, made a list of things to do that day and was just getting ready to make an early escape across to the Hudson house when the door to the incident room swung open.

  ‘Ellen!’ Baxter’s voice boomed through the room. Beside Ellen, Alastair visibly quaked.

  ‘My office. Now.’

  Baxter swung around and stomped down the corridor, the sound of his footsteps echoing back to Ellen, who hurried after him. By the time she caught up, he was already inside his office, pulling out the chair behind his desk.

  ‘Close the door.’

  He sat down and slapped yesterday’s Evening News down on his desk.

  ‘Want to tell me what the hell is going on?’

  Ellen sat down in the chair opposite and started speaking.

  ‘Sir, I had nothing to do with that piece. The first thing I knew about it was when that dropped through my letterbox last night.’

  ‘You’re telling me it’s a coincidence?’ Baxter asked. ‘You turn up – according to Miss Martine bloody Reynolds – asking York about his dead daughter. Something you failed to mention to me, your superior officer, by the way, and the next thing this gets published?’

  ‘I should have told you,’ Ellen said. ‘I’m sorry. Really I am. But surely you can’t think my visiting Rob York has anything to do with the story?’

  ‘Are you trying to be dumb or is it just an act?’ Baxter snapped. ‘Think about it, Ellen. Whatever you said to York, he jumped on it. Put two and two together and made five. Assumed there’s some link between Jodie and Molly and this is the result.’

  Ellen thought of the broken man she’d met yesterday.

  ‘No,’ she said. ‘You’ve got it wrong, Ed. I don’t think Rob York would have contacted the press. If you read the story, you’ll see this is all inside information. Look, she even knows we haven’t got any CCTV footage of him in Lewisham the morning Jodie disappeared. How the hell can she know something like that? And anyway, I never even mentioned Kevin to Rob York. How could he even begin to …’

  ‘Stop it!’ Baxter was shouting now, face red with an anger she’d never seen in him before. An anger that, somehow, felt out of proportion for what he was accusing her of doing.

  ‘What is it with you?’ Baxter continued. ‘Why the bloody hell do you always have to make things so difficult? I made myself very clear on this, DI Kelly. Your job is to investigate Kevin Hudson, find out everything you can about where he was the morning his little girl disappeared. Do you do what you’re asked? Like hell you do! You run off doing your own thing, ignoring what anyone else says if it doesn’t agree with your version of reality. Christ almighty! It’s like your obsession with Billy Dunston all over again. Once you get something into your mind, you can’t let it go. Well this time I’m not giving you a choice. One more fuck-up and you’re off the case and off my team. Permanently.’

  Ellen pushed her chair back and stood up. She took a moment before she trusted herself to speak.

  ‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘I don’t let things go easily. But that’s something you’ve always encouraged. I may have been obsessed – as you put it – with Dunston, but with good reason. That obsession is what led us to Katy Hope. I was the one who found Katy, Ed. And her little boy. I found both of them. And that’s more than you can say about Molly York.’

  Back in the incident room, Ellen sat at her desk, put her head in her hands and groaned. What the hell had she been thinking? She’d half-expected Baxter to come after her, but so far he’d remained in his office. Probably writing her dismissal letter.

  ‘That bad?’

  She lifted her head and saw Alastair’s grey eyes staring down at her. He was from a small village in Orkney. Ellen always imagined his eyes were the same colour as the sea he’d grown up beside.

  ‘Worse,’ she said. ‘Oh God, Alastair. He really let rip and instead of sitting there and taking it, I threw it right back at him.’

  ‘Don’t be too hard on yourself,’ Alastair said. ‘The boss hasn’t been himself these past few months. We’ve all had a taste of it at one time or another. Some of us more than others.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ Ellen said. ‘Who’s borne the worst of it? Don’t worry, I’m not asking you to tell tales or anything. But if Baxter’s upsetting people in my team, then I need to know.’

  ‘He’s really had it in for Abby,’ Alastair said. ‘It’s like he’s blaming her for something. I mean, I know what happened between them, but that was all over before it even started, if you know what I mean. It was just a fling. And for a while after that they seemed to get along fine. Recently, though, he’s really gone for her a few times in briefings and stuff. If you ask me, he’s gone too far on more than one occasion.’

  Ellen didn’t understand. The Baxter she knew had always been a supportive, sympathetic boss. Yes, he could be a pain in the arse at times, but who couldn’t?

  ‘I thought it was this case,’ she said. ‘But you’re saying it’s been going on for longer than that.’

  ‘A few months at least,’ Alastair said. ‘I would have said something, but it seemed petty to start moaning about the boss when we’ve more important things to be getting on with.’

  Ellen rubbed her face as she tried to sort her thoughts out.

  ‘Right,’ she said after a moment. ‘I need to get across to the Hudsons’ house and see how they’re doing. This business with the Evening News has hit them hard. I got a text from Abby last night. She said they’re really upset about it.’

  ‘Any idea who tipped off the journalist?’ Alastair asked. ‘Sorry, none of my business, I know. But Baxter will have their guts for garters when he finds out. I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes.’

  ‘He thinks it was Rob York,’ Ellen said. ‘Molly York’s father. Ed’s wrong about that, though. He’s too angry right now. I’m sure when he calms down he’ll realise the leak had to have come from inside. In the meantime, if you have any suspicions, you’ll let me know?’

  ‘Of course,’ Alastair said. ‘Only I can’t imagine it was any of the team. One of the uniforms, maybe?’

  Ellen sighed. ‘Maybe. Anyway, I can’t worry about that right now. Whoever the leak is, that’s Baxter’s problem, thankfully. Not mine.’

  She looked at the pile of files on her desk that had come across from Rochester yesterday.

  ‘Alastair, this all relates to the Molly York case. Can you go through them and make a list of suspects they had at the time. Start with Simon Wilson, Brian Fletcher’s boss. See what the reports say about him. Once you’ve done that, give me an update. Ger Cox, the DCI in Rochester, didn’t like him. I want to know why. I have a feeling we’ll need to have a word with this Wilson bloke. And while you’re doing that, I’m going to have a chat with Kevin about Dan Harris.’

  ‘Who’s he?’ Alastair asked.

  ‘The juvey Hudson attacked. I want to get Kevin�
�s version of what really happened and why he was locked up.

  ‘Baxter’s convinced Kevin’s behind Jodie’s disappearance. Judging by last night’s paper and the wider coverage this morning, everyone else thinks the same thing. What about you, Alastair? What do you think? Am I wrong to keep trying to find a connection with Molly York? Or worse, did Kevin take Molly too, like that Reynolds woman is trying to imply?’

  ‘Kevin told us he was in Lewisham the morning Jodie disappeared,’ Alastair said. ‘He’s lying about that. I was the one who went through the CCTV footage, remember? And I was the one who sat with every single uniform and went through their witness statements. No one they spoke to remembers seeing Kevin that morning. And he doesn’t appear on a single piece of CCTV footage. He wasn’t there. I’d bet my life on it. And if that’s the case, there are only two real questions: where was he and why the hell is he lying to us?’

  Ellen stood up. ‘Thanks, Alastair. I’m going to get over there now. I’ve spent too long focussing on Molly York when I should have been trying to find out what the hell Kevin is playing at. You’ll call me as soon as you’re finished here?’

  ‘Of course.’ Alastair gave Ellen one of his rare smiles. ‘It’s a pleasure working for you, Ma’am. Always.’

  The compliment, as unexpected as the smile, left Ellen lost for words. She would have hugged Alastair on the spot if it wouldn’t have embarrassed the hell out of him. Instead, she gave him a smile of her own and got out of there as fast as she could before Baxter came looking for her and killed the little bit of good feeling the conversation with Alastair had given her.

  10:30

  Making her way through the media scrum was a challenge. When she finally reached the front door, Ellen had to press the bell several times before Abby finally let her in.

  ‘Any sign of that cow Reynolds?’ Abby asked as she slammed the door shut.

  Ellen shook her head. ‘To be honest, I just kept my head down and pushed my way through. Thought it was the easiest way of getting in here unharmed.’