The Missing Girls

by Carol Wyer

  Her computer screen had timed out. She moved the mouse to bring it back to life and double clicked by accident. Instead of bringing Amber’s profile back up it brought up the profile of a girl calling herself Kitten. Robyn’s eyes opened wide. Wearing provocative underwear and staring innocently at the camera was Florence Hallows.

  As she sat back in surprise, her phone rang. It was Christine Hallows. ‘Robyn. I don’t know what to do. Florence has disappeared.’

  Fifty-Seven

  Christine Hallows wrung a patterned woollen hat around in her hands. ‘I didn’t give it a second thought. She phoned me yesterday after school and asked if it was okay if she stayed at Amélie’s house for tea because they were working on a project together. I said it was fine. At about six, she sent a text message saying Brigitte had suggested she stay over rather than go home as they hadn’t finished the project, and they had to hand it in this morning. I wasn’t keen, but I didn’t want to be the nagging mother. I’d already had a go at her about wearing make-up this week.’ Her shoulders sagged at the thought.

  ‘When did you realise she had gone missing?’ Robyn wanted to spend time with Christine, coax the information out of her gently and then reassure her it would be fine, but she couldn’t. If the same person who’d abducted the other girls had seized Florence, they had to act immediately. Florence had used Fox or Dog, and although she hadn’t ridiculed Charlotte Chambers, it was a connection they couldn’t ignore. It appeared they had greater reason to suspect Elliot; he knew and taught Florence. Christine was now at the station, facing Robyn, a cup of untouched tea in front of her on the desk.

  Robyn had already spoken to Flint, his words still smarting. ‘I asked you to bring in Chambers and now another girl has gone missing – one he teaches. This could have been avoided.’

  ‘I can only apologise, sir. You trusted me to find the perp and I’ve been concentrating on getting sufficient evidence to convict our killer.’

  His voice dropped to an icy hiss. ‘This is too great a coincidence to ignore. Haul him in now and pray he hasn’t hurt her.’

  She should have acted on Flint’s instructions. If she’d brought Chambers in, he wouldn’t have been able to snatch Florence. Robyn felt awful for not getting to the bottom of things sooner, but she knew that if she’d brought him in without evidence there’d have been no hope of a conviction. She’d have had to release him and they could be in the same position, or worse. It was little comfort. Florence was missing. Officers had been dispatched to Uttoxeter to search for her. Her father, Grant, was out in his car, combing the area, unwilling to leave the hunt to the police. She hadn’t shown up for lessons that day. Robyn felt sick to her stomach This was her fault. She’d been given ample reasons for concern, yet she hadn’t paid heed to Amélie when she rang about her friend, hadn’t challenged Florence about the episode at the cinema and hadn’t voiced her concerns to Christine; nor had she alerted her to the fact Florence had bunked off early from school, and was spotted wandering around Uttoxeter on Wednesday afternoon. And on top of everything, she’d known Chambers was a suspect and that he taught at Delia Marsh. She had made a monumental error. She’d become so embroiled in the investigation she’d forgotten all about Florence, and now the girl’s life was in danger. Christine’s own guilt was evident from her posture. She twisted the hat around and around, squeezing it tightly.

  ‘Oh, Robyn, what have I done? I should have rung her or checked with Brigitte to make sure she really was with Amélie, but I just believed her. She’s a sensible girl. I trust her. She’s never given me any reason not to.’

  Robyn put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. We’ll find her. I’m going to leave you with PC Marker. He’ll take all the details from you. I’ll talk to you later.’

  Christine bit her lip. ‘Thanks, Robyn.’

  Robyn raced down the corridor to her office where Mitz was waiting for her. ‘Chambers left the school at three thirty with a colleague who teaches maths – Joe Furnish. We don’t know if he went directly home. Matt’s gone to his flat and will wait outside it for instructions. I’ve got the search warrant you requested.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m not happy about this but I can’t see what other choices we have. DCI Flint has made it quite clear we’re to arrest Chambers in connection with the disappearance of Florence Hallows and Siobhan Connors. I can’t afford to let anything happen to either girl.’

  Robyn shook her head in dismay. Something didn’t quite add up. Why had he taken Florence? If her theory was correct, Chambers was targeting only those who’d been cruel to his sister. This seemed to suggest otherwise. Had he decided to go after other girls he met online? Anna had gone through Florence’s profile on the Fox or Dog website, establishing that she too had made contact with Hunter. He’d liked her profile and she’d reciprocated. But Florence hadn’t known Charlotte. Why would Chambers want to kidnap or harm her? All she knew was that she had to act fast. If Elliot Chambers, aka Hunter, had abducted Florence, there was no time to waste. He was able to spirit young women away as if by magic. The responsibility to get her home safely rested heavily on Robyn’s shoulders. She needed focus.

  ‘We’re going to have to fetch Elliot Chambers in. I’m still concerned about one fact. Florence didn’t leave any messages or comments on Charlotte Chambers’s profile. This doesn’t follow the same pattern.’

  ‘We don’t have much choice, guv,’ said Mitz. ‘DCI Flint has ordered us to question him.’

  Robyn gave a slight nod of her head. ‘Okay, let’s get him.’

  Matt was well hidden in Derby Street. Robyn joined him. Matt shrugged. ‘He’s in there. He came home about ten minutes after I pulled up, carrying a bag of shopping, and hasn’t left the flat since.’

  ‘Stay here and I’ll go up with Mitz and Anna. Be ready in case he runs.’

  She motioned the pair over and together they climbed the stairs.

  Elliot Chambers was dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. His eyes opened wide when he saw Robyn and Mitz at his door. He wiped his hands on a tea towel. ‘How can I help you, officers?’

  Robyn held up the warrant. ‘I have a warrant to search your flat, Mr Chambers.’

  He stood, mouth slightly agape, his boyish features contorted with confusion. ‘I don’t understand,’ he stammered.

  Robyn continued. ‘Please allow us entry, sir.’

  He stood to one side, letting Robyn, Mitz and Anna pass into the hallway. Mitz and Anna moved off, taking the first door on the left and disappearing from view. Elliot tilted his head. ‘Why are you searching my flat?’

  Robyn breathed in deeply. ‘Would you mind answering a few questions, Mr Chambers?’

  ‘What’s this all this about?’

  ‘I’d prefer to ask the questions, sir. Or, if you like, you can accompany us to the station and answer them there.’

  ‘This is preposterous. You can’t march in here and search my flat without good reason.’ A high colour flooded his face.

  ‘I’m afraid we have good reason, and a warrant that allows us.’

  Elliot moved towards a door on the right and pushed it open. ‘In here,’ he mumbled. Before them was an open-plan kitchen-diner, filled with an aroma of Italian herbs – basil, rosemary and thyme. A pan bubbled merrily on the stove and next to it stood an empty chopping board. ‘I was making my dinner,’ he said.

  Robyn nodded. ‘Best turn off the gas for the moment. Is that a chest freezer, Mr Chambers?’

  She pointed at a white freezer by the wall.

  ‘Yes, I prepare my meals in bulk. It means I don’t have to cook every night. Tonight’s an exception.’

  ‘Seems a rather large freezer for one person.’

  ‘I cook double portions and take some to my mother. She’s not very well. I like cooking,’ he said.

  Robyn lifted the lid and peered inside. An icy blast of air caressed her face as she looked upon several plastic containers. She closed it again. ‘Sit down, sir.’

  He obliged and offered h
er a chair at his breakfast bar. She declined. ‘Mr Chambers, when did you last see Florence Hallows?’

  ‘Florence?’ His face contorted once more with confusion. ‘Why?’

  ‘I asked you a question, sir.’

  Elliot raised his hand and rubbed his head. ‘Yesterday. Lesson three. Why? What’s happened to her?’

  ‘Did you see her leave the school yesterday afternoon?’

  Elliot shook his head. ‘I usually leave after the pupils. Yesterday was no different. I went into the staffroom to pick up a pile of marking and chatted to Sue Jones, the head of English, for a while. I went home immediately afterwards, but I didn’t see Florence en route or hanging around the school. Are you going to tell me what this is about?’

  ‘In good time. Can I ask if you recognise the name Carrie Miller?’

  Elliot’s mouth flapped open. ‘Well, yes. She’s the girl they found dead in Rugeley, but she wasn’t one of our pupils. I’ve never met her. I’ve only seen her picture in the newspaper.’

  Robyn wrote in her notebook. She recalled Phil Eastwood’s words that Elliot was a very fine actor. He was certainly exhibiting the appropriate responses for a bewildered and innocent suspect – wide eyes, confusion flickering across his furrowed brow. She decided to stick with this line of questioning for now. There’d be time to break him later. ‘Amber Dalton.’

  He groaned. ‘She was in the papers this week too. She was at that private school in Sandwell. Again, I don’t know her.’ He raked a hand through his hair, his eyes pleading innocence.

  ‘Siobhan Connors?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t know her. Will you please tell me what this is about.’

  Robyn heard Mitz leave one room and enter another. ‘I understand you were at Manchester University last year.’

  He took a breath, apparently glad of the change of topic.

  ‘I was.’

  ‘Where did you stay in your final year?’ Her eyes didn’t leave his face.

  ‘In a house in Edgar Street.’

  ‘Did you order and pay for a specially made travel trunk, Mr Chambers, and have it delivered to the house?’

  Again, he dragged his fingers through his hair and nodded.

  ‘Why did you buy such a large trunk?’ She waited as he digested her words.

  ‘It wasn’t for me,’ he blurted. ‘It was for part of my drama exam. A few of us wrote a play about the escape artist, Harry Houdini. I ordered the trunk for the production. It had to be big enough for me to fit inside. I was playing Houdini, you see, and I didn’t want to be too cramped. I was on stage in that trunk for over half an hour.’

  Robyn’s eyebrows rose. ‘You ordered an expensive trunk for a production? How could you afford it?’

  ‘I intended to sell it afterwards. I was given some money from the drama department towards it.’

  Her face remained impassive. ‘And you’d be able to find fellow students or university staff to corroborate this story?’

  His head bobbed up and down. ‘Pretty sure, although I have no idea where any of the students on my course are now.’

  As Robyn had expected, he’d thought about what to tell her. He’d fabricated a plausible story about the trunk. ‘Where is that trunk now, Mr Chambers?’

  ‘It’s the oddest thing. When I moved back home, I left it in one of the outbuildings at my mother’s house and it disappeared. I don’t know what happened – gypsies, thieves, a chancer – somebody snooping around the outbuildings saw it and stole it.’

  ‘You didn’t report it as stolen?’

  He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t worth getting the police involved for a trunk. There was nothing valuable inside it. I had other things to concentrate on. I was preparing for my position at Delia Marsh School and was looking for somewhere else to live.’

  ‘You left university in June last year?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you returned home to The Oaks where you lived for the rest of the year until you moved into your flat on the twentieth of December last year?’

  He nodded and shifted in his chair.

  ‘You didn’t seek temporary employment while at home? You must have accrued some student debt.’

  Elliot swallowed hard. ‘I had some debt. Not too much. My salary from teaching allows me to pay it off month by month.’

  ‘So you were effectively unemployed while living at home from June until September. What did you do while you were at home all that time, Mr Chambers?’

  He looked at his feet. ‘This and that. Not much. You know… I’d worked hard for my degree. I just chilled for a bit.’

  ‘You “chilled” for three months.’

  ‘Look, I don’t see what relevance this has to anything,’ he said, his fists clenching.

  Mitz appeared and shook his head. He hadn’t uncovered anything. She beckoned him into the kitchen where he began searching the drawers.

  Robyn waited while Elliot watched her officer delving into a cupboard. ‘If you tell me what you’re looking for, I’ll tell you where it is.’

  Mitz closed the door quietly. ‘That’s okay, sir.’

  Elliot turned back to her. ‘Have you ever used the Fox or Dog app?’

  ‘Never heard of it,’ he said.

  ‘You must have. Surely your pupils have spoken about it?’

  He shook his head, shoulders drooping, as Mitz churned paperwork over in a drawer. ‘Please, don’t mess it all up. I can’t abide mess.’

  ‘Are you certain you haven’t heard of the app, Mr Chambers?’

  He nodded furiously. ‘Of course I’m sure. What is it? A game?’

  ‘It’s a dating app,’ Robyn said, coolly.

  Elliot watched Mitz with darting eyes. ‘There’s got to be some mistake,’ he said. ‘I have no idea what this is all about.’

  There was a tap at the door. Anna beckoned Robyn, who turned from Elliot. ‘Wait here, Mr Chambers.’

  Back outside in the hallway, Anna moved towards Elliot’s bedroom.

  She’d pulled out a box marked ‘acting props’ and removed neatly folded clothes from it. They were now on his bed.

  ‘What have you found?’ Robyn asked.

  ‘These,’ said Anna, lifting up a blue leather jacket and a blue headband.

  Fifty-Eight

  Elliot, bent over in his chair in the interview room at the station, held his head in his hands. Robyn and Mitz sat down opposite him.

  ‘Mr Chambers, can you explain why these items of clothing were found in a box at your flat?’

  Robyn pushed the leather jacket and headband across the table towards him. He didn’t lift his head. ‘They’re clothes I use for acting. Sometimes I take on female roles. It’s nothing more than that.’

  Robyn continued. ‘Did you wear these items of clothing on the eighteenth or the twentieth of December?’

  He shook his head. ‘No. They’ve been in that box ever since I left university. I packed them away when I left. Thought I might need them one day.’

  ‘Where were you on the twentieth of December?’

  ‘I moved to my flat that day.’

  ‘How did you move your possessions?’

  He let out a long breath. ‘I borrowed my mum’s car.’

  ‘What time would that have been?’

  ‘I packed the car up the night before and drove to the flat first thing that morning. I was there all day.’

  ‘All day?’

  ‘I had to unpack everything and put it in its new place. It takes time.’ He straightened his back and gave her a stony look.

  Robyn ignored the look. ‘Mr Chambers, where were you on the third of January?’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! I don’t know. What time?’

  ‘In the evening, at about seven o’clock.’

  His raised his hands. ‘Out. I was supposed to be going with a couple of friends to watch a play at the Garrick Theatre in Lichfield, but they cried off at the last minute. They’d both caught a stomach bug. I don’t have a car and I didn
’t feel like shelling out for a taxi so I went to the CineBowl over on Dovefields Retail Park to watch a film.’

  ‘What did you watch?’

  He studied his hands for a moment. ‘I watched A Monster Calls.’

  ‘And what’s that about?’

  ‘A boy being bullied by classmates who escapes by going into a fantasy world.’

  Robyn wriggled in her seat and drew herself up. ‘That’s interesting. An odd subject for a grown man.’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s about a kid being bullied. I thought it’d help give me insight into kids’ minds. There’s always bullying going on in schools. There’s some at ours and I wanted to help. Make a difference. I want to be really good at my job.’ His voice tailed off.

  ‘What do you think about bullies?’

  ‘What sort of question is that? I’m a teacher. I try to educate young people to be better, to make the most of themselves. I think they can unwittingly be crueller than adults and don’t understand the effect bullying can have on those they victimise. What did you expect me to say? That I approve of it? If this is about my opinions, then I should warn you I disapprove of many things, Detective Inspector Carter. Would you like me to list all the things I dislike about our world?’ He slapped the table with the palm of his hand. ‘This is farcical. Why are you questioning me?’

  ‘Please calm down, Mr Chambers. I have to ask you these questions. Can you account for your movements on the night of the nineteenth and into early hours of the twentieth of January?’

  He gave a helpless shrug. ‘Not really. I expect I was at home watching television or marking until I went to bed. I usually turn in at about ten. I wouldn’t have been up after that.’

  ‘You didn’t go out at all that evening?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘When did you last borrow your mother’s car?’

  His shoulders rose and fell. ‘I haven’t used it since I moved to the flat. It’s been in her garage since then, I’d imagine. She’s been too ill to drive in recent months. She asked me if I wanted it, but it’s not my sort of car and there’s nowhere to leave it outside the flat. That road gets very busy most days.’