Hunting Shadows

by Bugler, Sheila

  ‘It says in the paper that you went to see Rob York,’ Abby said.

  Ellen gritted her teeth, ready for the attack.

  ‘So?’ she asked.

  ‘So, it’s strange you didn’t think to share that with the team,’ Abby said. ‘Not that I think it’s a bad idea. Far from it. The possible connection between the two cases is obviously something we should consider. And, if I’m honest, I’m not comfortable with the investigation focussing so strongly on one suspect. I’m scared we’ll miss something.’

  ‘I thought you’d take Baxter’s side,’ Ellen said.

  ‘It’s not a question of sides,’ Abby said. ‘Really, Ellen. What sort of simpering idiot do you think I am? My only concern is finding Jodie. Whatever’s going on between you and Baxter, that really is none of my business.’

  A flare of anger rose in Ellen. Instead of giving in to this, she suppressed it.

  ‘Listen,’ she said. ‘I think we need to talk. Is there somewhere we could go?’

  ‘Sitting room.’ Abby nodded to a door on the left. ‘Helen’s in the kitchen, watching the news. She won’t switch if off and it’s horrible. Every news channel is regurgitating all the crap that woman wrote about Kevin. Let me go and check she’s okay and I’ll be in to you in a second.’

  ‘What about Kevin?’ Helen asked. ‘Where’s he?’

  ‘He’s taken Finlay to the park,’ Abby said. ‘It was my idea. It’s horrible in here, Ellen, listening to that crowd outside. I’ve had to take the phone off the hook. I sent Kevin and Finlay out the back way, through the neighbours’ garden. The kid really needed a break from all this. So did poor Kevin.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Ellen said. ‘Do you think he’ll be safe on his own, though?’

  ‘You mean, if someone’s read the paper and has him pegged as a paedo?’ Abby asked. ‘Yes, I did think of that. I offered to send someone with them, but Kevin wouldn’t hear of it. Said they needed time alone.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ellen said. ‘You go check on Helen, then. I’ll see you in a minute.’

  It was her first time in the sitting room. Unlike the kitchen, this room was tastefully furnished with mismatched, shabby-chic furniture including a leather Chesterfield that wouldn’t have looked out of place in Ellen’s own sitting room.

  Framed drawings and pictures covered the wall above the fireplace. More of Jodie’s art work. On the mantelpiece, a range of trophies for football and tennis. Ellen guessed the trophies were mostly Finlay’s and liked the way both children’s achievements were celebrated in different ways.

  Walking over and examining the pictures more closely, she was struck again by Jodie’s talent. She thought of the rudimentary pictures Pat produced. There really was no comparison. One picture, more than any, stood out. An ink drawing of a boy’s face. The boy had dark hair that flopped down over one eye. A handsome boy. His head was raised slightly and the artist had drawn the shadowy outline of an Adam’s apple midway along the neck. The boy was, indisputably, Finlay Hudson. Ellen marvelled that a ten-year-old had the talent to be able to capture a likeness so well.

  ‘Amazing, isn’t she?’ Abby came into the room and stood alongside Ellen. ‘St Anne’s has a gifted and talented programme, apparently, and has been supporting Jodie. Helping develop her talent. She starts secondary school in September. Her parents had been looking into getting a scholarship.’ She held out a mug to Ellen. ‘Here, I brought you a coffee.’

  ‘How’s Helen?’ Ellen asked.

  Abby shrugged. ‘Bearing up. Just about. I assume you’ll want a word after this?’

  ‘I was hoping to speak to both of them,’ Ellen said. ‘But if Kevin’s going to be a while, I might come back later.’

  ‘So what was it you wanted from me?’ Abby asked.

  ‘It’s about Baxter,’ Ellen said.

  Abby’s body stiffened. ‘What about him?’

  ‘I need your help,’ Ellen said. ‘He’s not himself. He really lost it this morning and, from what I’ve heard, it’s not the first time. And whatever his problem is, it’s distracting him from the case. I’m worried, Abby. Worried Baxter’s lack of focus will cause us to mess up.’

  ‘And you think it’s me?’ Abby asked. ‘I’m the reason he’s acting the way he is? Well you’re wrong. Me and him, it was … well, it was a stupid mistake. He worked that out straight away. Took me a while longer, I’ll admit, but I got there pretty quickly. And once I realised he wasn’t interested, I moved on. So did he. At least … Look, I’m sorry, Ellen. Whatever his problem is, it’s not me. I swear to you.’

  ‘How can you be so sure?’

  Abby lowered her face to her mug. ‘I just am.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Just because,’ Abby said. ‘It’s like I told you. Things between us were over ages ago so if he’s, if there’s something wrong, the problem isn’t me. The problem is something else entirely.’

  ‘Something else entirely that you know about,’ Ellen said. ‘But you’re refusing to share with me?’

  ‘No.’ Even if Abby hadn’t blushed, Ellen would have known she was lying. The rebuttal came too fast. Like she’d been preparing herself.

  Ellen put her cup on the ground and stood up. ‘I need to find out what’s going on with Baxter,’ she said. ‘I was really hoping to do that with your help. But if you’re refusing, I’ll still get to the bottom of this. And when I do, if I find out it’s got anything at all to do with your stupid fling, I’ll have you, Roberts. Got that?’

  When Abby looked up, her eyes shone with tears. The second time she’d nearly cried in front of Ellen.

  ‘I’d help you if I could,’ she said. ‘I swear to you.’

  Ellen shrugged. ‘For now, I don’t have any choice but to believe you. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to leave you here to have a think about things while I go and have a word with Helen.’

  She left the room as quickly as she could. Why did all her dealings with Abby have to be so difficult? Ellen really thought they were getting places this morning. And then, just as the barriers seemed to be coming down, Abby clammed up.

  As she walked into the kitchen, a horrible thought struck Ellen. Something that would explain the tears and Baxter’s dark mood. How long did Alastair say this had been going on? A couple of months? Ellen thought about turning around, going back to Abby and asking her straight out. But she didn’t think she had the strength to deal with that. Not right now.

  The door to the kitchen was closed. Ellen could hear Helen inside, crying. She took a deep breath, put her hand on the door, pushed it open and went inside. Right now, Helen Hudson’s missing girl was her priority. Everything else would have to wait.

  10:45

  The park had been Abby’s idea. Despite his instinctive distrust of the pretty FLO, Kevin had found himself warming to her over the past few days. Especially since yesterday. Ever since that journalist had turned up asking questions, Abby had been a rock. They’d never have got through last night and this morning without her.

  She was doing a good job of looking out for Fin, too. Which was just as well because himself and Helen were too caught up in their own nightmares to spare the boy a second thought. Take today, for instance. As soon as Abby suggested the park, Kevin knew straight away it was the right thing to do. One look at the hunted expression on his son’s face should have alerted him to the urgent need to get the boy out of the house for a few hours.

  ‘I’ll have my mobile,’ Kevin promised, sensing the boy’s reluctance to leave the house. ‘Mum’ll phone straight away if there’s any news.’

  They’d had to go out the back way. Out front, Dallinger Road was crawling with journalists, professional cameramen and women, and gawpers. People who obviously weren’t her for any other reason except to catch a glimpse of the grieving family. Weirdos.

  They climbed over the wall into the Picardies’ garden, which backed onto theirs. From here, they walked down Holme Lacey Road and along Manor Lane to the park.

  Along the
way, Finlay was quiet and Kevin, wrapped up in his own thoughts, barely noticed the boy was with him as they plodded along the quiet, suburban streets.

  At the entrance to the park, they both hesitated, knowing this wasn’t going to be easy. This place, in particular, was full of memories of Jodie.

  Kevin put his hand on Finlay’s shoulder and squeezed it. ‘Come on, son. Let’s get this over with.’

  The memories came hard and fast – Jodie throwing crumbs to the ducks, teaching her to cycle without stabilisers along that path over there, family picnics in the central grassy area, playing football and rounders with the two children on summer evenings. Passing the playground, he had to avert his eyes because the sight of other children on the swings and the climbing frame and the see-saw felt like it might kill him.

  ‘Shall we grab a hot chocolate first?’ he suggested.

  Finlay shook his head. ‘Don’t want to go in there.’

  ‘Why not? A hot chocolate’s just the thing on a chilly afternoon.’

  ‘They’re a bunch of bastards,’ Finlay said.

  Kevin frowned. ‘Language, Fin. Who are you talking about, anyway? The café is like a second home to me. It’s kept me going over the last year and a bit, let me tell you. Come on, I’ll race you.’

  He started running, but when he reached the entrance to the café, he noticed Finlay still standing where he’d left him, pushing the ball in front of him with his toe. His head was hanging down so Kevin couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t imagine his son was smiling.

  Poor Fin. His parents were so caught up in their own fears they’d barely noticed how any of this was affecting the boy. Kevin wondered if maybe they should arrange some counselling or something, like Abby had suggested. But when did you start doing that? What if they still hadn’t found Jodie in three months’ time? Or six months, or a year?

  Thinking that made him feel light-headed and sick at the same time, like he might faint. This was unbearable. Coming to the park had only made it worse, as well. What had he been thinking? He should be at home with Helen, supporting her and willing the phone to ring with the news that Jodie had been found and she was safe and everything was going to be okay. He had to keep believing that would happen. The alternative, that life would continue like this without them ever finding her, was inconceivable.

  Finlay moved forward another few inches. Kevin wanted to go inside and order the hot chocolates but he was seized by the sudden fear that if he did that, he’d come back outside and Finlay would be gone. So he waited.

  ‘Come with me,’ he insisted when Finlay finally joined him.

  As he stepped inside, Kevin realised people in here had been watching him. The place was unnaturally silent, as if they’d all stopped talking the moment he’d put his foot over the threshold. Avoiding eye contact with everyone except Judith, the café owner, Kevin ordered two hot chocolates.

  ‘On the house,’ Judith said when she handed him the drinks.

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ Kevin said, but she shook her head.

  ‘I insist.’

  She turned to Finlay. ‘I heard about yesterday. Bobby told me. I’m so sorry, Finlay. I’ve spoken to Steph and I’ll make sure nothing like that ever happens again.’

  Bobby was Judith’s son. He ran the place Monday to Friday. Judith only ever appeared at the weekends.

  Kevin looked from Judith to Finlay. ‘What happened yesterday?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Finlay muttered. ‘Come on, Dad, let’s go. This place stinks.’

  Kevin grabbed him by the shoulder. ‘I want to know what happened.’

  ‘Just leave it,’ Finlay said. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’

  Kevin didn’t want to leave it. He wanted to know exactly why Judith was looking so guilty and Finlay’s face had turned bright red, as if he was on the verge of losing his temper. But there was a tremor in Finlay’s voice that he didn’t like. The poor kid sounded like he was about to burst into tears.

  So Kevin said nothing, just nodded goodbye to Judith and followed Finlay back outside.

  At first, Kevin couldn’t see him and his throat tightened as he scanned the park. He opened his mouth to call out Finlay’s name when he saw him, marching past the ice house on the other side of the park.

  There was a jerky rhythm to the way Finlay was walking and it was only as Kevin caught up with him, out of breath from running, that he realised the boy was crying, tears streaming down his cheeks.

  ‘Hey.’ Kevin reached out and touched his arm, but Finlay shoved him away.

  ‘I’ve got your chocolate,’ Kevin said.

  ‘They all think you did it!’ Finlay screamed, swiping the cardboard cup from Kevin’s hand and knocking it to the ground. The lid fell off and the sweet smell of chocolate wafted through the cold air.

  ‘What do you mean?’ Kevin wondered how his voice could sound so calm when, inside, an iron claw was scraping through the centre of his body.

  ‘I went there yesterday, in the afternoon,’ Finlay said. ‘Me and Leo. All I wanted was a bloody can of Coke. The moment I went inside, I knew what they were all talking about. A group of them, girls mainly, and some lads from Thomas Tallis. Leo knew it too and he said we should leave but I thought, fuck them. If they want to talk about me, fuck them. It’s a café and I want a Coke. So I went up to the counter and the girl working there …’ he trailed off and looked around, as if he was trying to look for something that wasn’t there.

  ‘The blonde?’ Kevin asked, referring to the pretty girl who worked there occasionally. The one Finlay had the mother of all crushes on.

  Finlay nodded, wiped his nose with the back of his sleeve and continued. ‘She asked me what was it like, and I said what did she mean? I could see the others laughing, like they knew exactly what she was going to say next.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  Finlay glanced at him then looked away quickly. ‘She asked me what it was like knowing my dad was a paedo. Said everyone knew that’s why you come here in the mornings. That you only do it so you can look at the kids in the playground. Then the others started as well, calling you names and saying all sorts of stuff. And the girl, she asked me if I liked little kiddies as well. Said it explained why I hung around the place. She called me a dirty little pervert.’

  There was a roaring noise in Kevin’s head and he tried to concentrate on the words coming out of Finlay’s mouth, but they sounded all mixed up.

  His legs crumbled beneath him and he was falling. As he hit the ground, he saw Finlay, moving towards him. He could only see his feet. It reminded him of something and instinctively his body curled into a ball. His arms went up, covering his head, as three words repeated over and over in his head, an incessant drumbeat that he couldn’t stop.

  Dirty little pervert. Dirty little pervert. Dirty little pervert.

  14:00

  Dai was waiting for her outside The Pavilion, the old-style tea house at the top of Greenwich park. Ellen was too restless to sit down, so she suggested they got coffees to take away instead.

  ‘You look tired,’ Dai said. ‘Work getting to you?’

  It wasn’t just work. She’d been unable to sleep last night, memories of her early childhood whizzing around inside her head, raising all sorts of questions she really didn’t want to think about.

  ‘No more than usual,’ she said.

  They walked along the top of the park towards the statue of General Wolfe. Despite the cold, Ellen was glad to be outside. She loved the park. On clear days like this, she couldn’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.

  Being with Dai was relaxing, too. He’d never been one of those people who needed to talk all the time and she preferred it that way.

  ‘I haven’t had a chance to talk to Kevin yet,’ Ellen said. ‘I was planning to do it today but this business with the press, it’s thrown everything off track.’

  ‘Helen’s very upset,’ Dai said. ‘Can’t say as I blame her, either. Scum of the earth that Reynold
s woman. I’ve had dealings with her in the past. You steer clear of her, Ellen. You hear me? Now then, why don’t you tell me why you called and needed to see me so urgently.’

  ‘There’s something I need you to find out,’ she said. ‘If you can. But it’s awkward.’

  She drank some coffee as she tried to work out what to tell him.

  ‘It’s to do with Baxter,’ she said. ‘I’ve been thinking. What if he was involved in the Dan Harris case somehow?’

  ‘Remind me who Dan Harris is?’ Dai said.

  ‘He’s the guy Kevin assaulted. A fifteen-year-old kid. If Ed knew the kid, wouldn’t that explain his fixation on Kevin?’

  ‘But wouldn’t you know if he’d been part of that?’ Dai asked.

  ‘In theory,’ Ellen said. ‘But maybe there’s some other connection. Something I don’t know about.’

  ‘And you want me to do what exactly?’

  ‘Have a word with Helen,’ Ellen said. ‘Off the record. See if she can think of anything connecting Baxter with Dan Harris.’

  Dai took a sip of coffee. ‘You’re not being straight with me, Ellen.’

  They reached a pond and paused to watch a group of ducks sliding around each other on the iced-over surface. Like they were putting on a display.

  ‘I mean,’ Dai continued. ‘I can see why you think there might be a connection with the Harris case. And it’s worth asking the question. But there’s something else. Something between you and Ed that you’re not telling me. I sensed it the night we met at The Dacre.’

  ‘You’re right,’ Ellen said. ‘Only I’m not sure I can tell you. You see, I found out something about him last year. Something he doesn’t like me knowing. I need to know if that’s why he’s acting strange. Or if there’s another reason. Does that make any sense?’

  ‘Not really,’ Dai said. ‘Maybe you should tell me what it is you found out?’

  ‘I can’t do that.’

  Dai shrugged. ‘I can’t help you then, Ellen.’