Melissa stared at her, shocked to the core. She’d loved him. With her whole heart, she’d loved a man who was a complete monster.
‘You think he’s taken her, don’t you?’
‘I honestly don’t know,’ said Jade. ‘If he has, I’m sure he won’t hurt her, but…’
Pausing pointedly, she glanced at the laptop and then back to Mel. ‘Knowing what you know now about his… activities, I really think you should tell the police. For Evie’s sake.’
Seventy
MARK
Mark had been going door to door with officers, targeting sex offenders and investigating any known links to child trafficking for sexual exploitation or the babies-for-sale trade. They were also visiting parents who’d recently lost babies, in particular bereaved mothers without a support network who might be prone to depression.
As if any parent wouldn’t be. Mark had empathised completely as some of them had relived their experiences, his mind playing over memories of his own son, outwardly perfect while his small lungs had struggled to draw their last breath. His tiny white coffin. He’d had to excuse himself as one mother had recounted how she’d nursed her seven-month-old baby in her arms until God had taken her for an angel. Leaving the woman in the care of a female police officer, Mark had sought the sanctuary of his car, where he’d sat with his head on the steering wheel, his heart bleeding steadily inside him.
Glancing around the woodland adjoining the local beauty spot, every square foot of which could conceal a small body, Mark felt a sinking sense of hopelessness. He’d trodden this route looking for Daisy. He’d never imagined he’d be walking it again in search of his own missing child.
Clamping down on his thoughts before his mind wandered too far, Mark reached into his pocket for his ringing mobile.
‘Mark, I managed to get hold of Jade on her mobile, finally,’ Lisa said, when he picked up the call. ‘She’s going to come in and give a statement, but I thought you should know her alibi checks out. We have her on the bank’s security cameras at the time she says she was there.’
‘Ten fifteen.’ Mark sighed. Given her unceremonious departure from the house, he’d thought… But he’d been wrong. He wasn’t relieved at the news, however. Jade had definitely formed an attachment to Evie, but if she had taken her for whatever reason, Mark had doubted she would hurt her in any way. ‘Okay, Lisa, thanks. I’m on my way to see Mel. I’ll be back at the station as soon as I can.’
‘See you later,’ Lisa said. ‘Oh, and Mark, about Jade… I couldn’t get much sense out of Mel, for obvious reasons, but why did you say she’d left exactly? It’s just, it was a bit sudden, wasn’t it?’
‘Very,’ Mark said, and sucked in a breath. He had to give some kind of explanation, but what? She took advantage of me while I was drunk would sound pretty lame. And unbelievable. Mark was well aware of that. ‘I haven’t said anything to Mel yet, but…’ He faltered, feeling acutely embarrassed. ‘She, er, came on to me. Heavily.’
Lisa was quiet for a moment. ‘And you’re surprised?’
Not surprised; shocked. And angry, bewildered and humiliated. Ashamed. He wondered whether he’d been responsible, whether he’d led her on in some way. All of the things he’d told victims of sexual crime they shouldn’t be feeling, and none of which he wanted to become general knowledge. Cummings would have a field day.
‘A bit,’ he said instead, glancing up curiously as two officers approached him. ‘Looks like I’m needed. I’ll catch you at the station, Lisa.’
‘DI Cain.’ One of the officers looked at him apologetically as Mark ended his call. ‘We have instructions to accompany you to the station.’
Accompany him? ‘Why?’ Mark asked, his stomach tightening as he braced himself for news of Evie.
‘DCI wants to have a little chat,’ the other guy said, his tone arrogant.
So it wasn’t about Evie. Mark felt himself go weak with relief. He looked the guy over, deciding to seek him out later regarding his attitude. Right now, he hadn’t got the time or the inclination. ‘What about then?’ he asked.
Shooting his colleague a disparaging look, the first officer spoke. ‘I’m afraid I can’t say, sir. We’ve just been asked to make sure you get there.’
‘Sorry, it will have to wait,’ Mark said, reaching for his car door. ‘I’m going home to see my wife.’
‘It’s not a request, sir,’ the officer responded, his expression hardening as he moved to prevent him opening the door.
Mark looked at him, thunderstruck, and then turned to the second officer, who’d walked around to position himself on his other side. ‘We’ve been told to escort you,’ the man said dispassionately. ‘We also need to take possession of your phone.’
‘What?’ Mark laughed incredulously. ‘You have to be kidding?’
‘Never been more serious in my life. Sir,’ the second officer assured him, his tone now definitely disrespectful.
* * *
The officers disclosing nothing on the drive in, other than to tell him there were no developments regarding Evie, Mark still had no idea what was happening. He had a distinct feeling, however, that his colleagues did, as the two men insisted on escorting him right to the DCI’s office door. The silence as he was walked through the main office was so profound you could have heard a paperclip drop. The scornful glances didn’t do much to alleviate Mark’s uneasiness, and the contemptuous sneer he registered on Cummings’ face caused his step to falter. It was Lisa’s expression, though, one of palpable shock, that stopped him in his tracks.
‘Lisa?’ he said, his apprehension growing tenfold.
Cummings got to his feet. He didn’t speak, didn’t utter a word, simply moved to stand by Lisa’s side.
Lisa glanced at Cummings, back to Mark, and then looked embarrassedly away.
‘Sir.’ One of the officers urged him on, taking hold of his arm.
‘I know what I’d do with paedo pervs in our own ranks,’ someone muttered, as Mark walked on. ‘Castrate the bastards and make an example.’
‘What the fuck is going on?’ Mark demanded, as Edwards swung his door open.
‘Sit down,’ Edwards said shortly, banging the door shut and marching past him to his desk.
Mark stayed put. ‘Look, I have no idea what the hell this is all about, but—’
‘That’s an order, DI Cain. Sit!’ Edwards eyed him furiously. ‘Now!’
Mark tried to temper his own fury. ‘My daughter’s missing,’ he said, walking reluctantly across to the chair. ‘Whatever this is, can’t it wait?’
‘No, Cain, it can’t wait,’ Edwards assured him, glaring at him until he sat.
Edwards stayed standing, still staring unnervingly at him. ‘Now then,’ he said, finally, ‘would you like to tell me what the hell this shit is all about?’
Mark’s first reaction was revulsion as Edwards twirled the laptop on his desk to face him.
His second, overwhelming panic as he realised the laptop was his.
Seventy-One
JADE
Melissa was taking longer to succumb than Jade had anticipated. She eyed her suspiciously as she blundered up the stairs ahead of her, having dutifully taken her regular meds washed down with a cup of strong, extremely sweet tea. Had she thrown up again when she’d gone to the loo? She really was an irritating cow. Mark was welcome to her. Except, he wouldn’t have her ever again, apart from in his pathetic little fantasies.
‘I need to go to Poppy,’ Melissa said, making her way clumsily along the landing. ‘I need to talk to her.’
Talk to her? Jade rolled her eyes sky high. The woman was barely coherent.
‘Whoops.’ Her mouth curving into a smile, Jade caught Melissa as she appeared to lose the use of her legs and reeled sideways into the wall. ‘I’ve got you,’ she said, easing her up and steering her in the direction of her bedroom.
‘Poppy,’ the woman mumbled, dragging her feet, to Jade’s immense annoyance.
‘You’ve had a terrib
le shock, Mel,’ she said caringly. ‘You really should lie down. Come on. Let’s get you on the bed and I’ll fetch Poppy. She can snuggle up with you while I make you both something to eat. How does that sound?’
Mel nodded, pressing her hand to her forehead as she stumbled onwards, her brow furrowed and her expression pained, as if her perfect little world had disintegrated. She was probably contemplating how to end it all. As if she need worry her pretty little rusty-haired head about that with her babysitter here, ready to take care of everything.
Jade was debating whether to bring Poppy in or lock her away when Melissa babbled something about tiny toes and plaster casts, and weaved towards her bed.
Jade watched her go, perplexed. Bonkers, she thought, shaking her head. Complete basket case. She really had no idea what Mark had ever seen in her.
The hair was quite pretty, she supposed, looking closely at it as she helped needy Melissa lie back on the pillow. Wavy and lustrous, the copper suited her better. Why she’d ever sought to emulate her by dyeing it blonde, Jade couldn’t fathom.
Still, she couldn’t blame her for trying.
Turning to the door, having decided to fetch the brat, Jade fluffed up her own hair in the mirror, pouted her full lips and admired her breasts. Mark Cain had missed out big time. She’d have taken him to heights of ecstasy he couldn’t imagine in his wildest fantasies.
His loss.
His very great loss indeed.
She was halfway along the landing to Poppy’s room when her phone rang. Dylan, again. Jade tutted tetchily, accepted the call, and answered in her sweetest tones.
‘It’s on the news,’ Dylan squeaked in her ear.
Jade stifled her agitation. ‘It doesn’t matter, Dylan,’ she said patiently. ‘He’ll be in custody by now.’ Reviled by his colleagues. Spat on, probably. Jade got immense satisfaction from that. ‘They won’t believe another word he says.’
‘But they’re looking for her.’ Dylan sounded panicked.
‘Not for long,’ Jade said, less patiently.
‘But what if they believe him? He’s a policeman, ain’t he? One of their own.’ Dylan was talking fast, thinking in clichés. ‘And he is their father. What if they come—’
‘They won’t!’ Jade snapped, gritting her teeth hard. God, she was so sick of mollycoddling him. She should have fed him to Inky and bloody Oinky. Though it would probably take them a month to chomp through the useless great wimp.
‘They won’t, Dylan,’ she said, more kindly, when she realised he’d gone quiet. ‘The CCTV footage and speeding fine you clocked up will see to that.’ Emphasising the ‘you’, Jade thought it better to leave out the one or two other sordid activities the disgraced detective inspector would be charged with.
‘CCTV?’ Dylan whispered, aghast.
‘They do have cameras in red-light districts, Dylan,’ Jade pointed out. ‘But don’t worry, you’re the same colouring and height as him. And if anyone should ask, not that they will, I’ll vouch for you, obviously.’
‘Will you?’ Dylan asked, sounding like an uncertain child.
‘Of course, my love. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. We’ll be free soon. Together forever. But you have to keep your head and do everything I tell you.’
‘I will. I am,’ Dylan replied defensively. ‘It’s just…’
‘Just what?’ Jade felt a prickle of apprehension.
Dylan went quiet again. Jade contemplated garrotting him. ‘Daisy,’ he blurted out. ‘I’m worried about her. She—’
‘Oh, she’s fine,’ Jade assured him airily. ‘We’ll all be together soon.’ She glossed over that inconsequential problem in favour of changing the subject. ‘How’s Angel?’
‘Still sleeping,’ Dylan said. Jade could hear the bed squeaking under his huge bulk, which meant he was checking on her. ‘She looks pale though,’ he added worriedly. ‘I think she needs a bit of fresh air. Me mum always said a bit of fresh air would put the colour back in my cheeks.’
‘Dylan…’ Jade tried very hard not to scream.
‘I could take her to my house as well, if you like. It wouldn’t matter if she cried there, and—’
‘Dylan! No!’ Jade stopped him in his excited flow, and then sighed inwardly as Poppy’s bedroom door squeaked open. She scowled at the child, who was peering at her through the crack in the door with one eye. It was like something from a horror movie, it really was. ‘I have to go. If she wakes up, just give her more Calpol,’ she said to Dylan, and rang off.
Poppy backed away as Jade advanced towards the door, as if she were some kind of evil witch.
Irked, Jade thrust the door open and marched in. The room was an absolute pigsty, as usual, spoiled little brat. ‘Your mother wants you in the bedroom.’ She gestured her that way. ‘And behave.’ She glowered at the girl as she skirted around her, her silly Peppa Pig clutched babyishly to her chest. ‘Or I’ll eat your fucking goldfish.’
Seventy-Two
MARK
‘For Christ’s sake, they’re websites!’ Sweat prickling his forehead and saturating his shirt, Mark dragged his hands exasperatedly over his face and got to his feet. ‘Anyone could have accessed them!’ He looked desperately from Edwards, seated at his desk, his expression impassive, to Cummings, who’d laughably been drafted in to question him.
‘Right.’ Folding his arms, Cummings exchanged meaningful glances with Edwards. ‘And the image of your daughter? Someone accessed your computer to post that too, I suppose.’
Attempting to control his temper, Mark clamped his jaw tight. He could already hear the cell door clanging shut behind him. ‘That was not taken by me!’ he said, his patience fast evaporating. Could they not see the fucking obvious here? That, if he hadn’t taken it, then someone else had. Someone who had access to his family and his home computer. Someone who undoubtedly now had his daughter. What the hell was the matter with them?
‘Yeah, you said.’ Shaking his head, Cummings looked him over scathingly. ‘So, leaving the Category A pornographic images of kids aside for the moment, since we’re clearly not getting the right answers, perhaps you could explain this?’ He picked up a piece of paper and dangled it in Mark’s direction. ‘And, just so you know, “it wasn’t me” won’t cut it.’
Mark noted the colour of the form, green. ‘A speeding fine?’
‘Correct.’ Cummings smiled superciliously. ‘Clocked up at two in the morning’ – he paused, smirking as he held Mark’s gaze – ‘in the heart of the red-light district. So much for the father of the year award, hey, Cain. Play classical music while you’re doing the business, do you?’
Mark stared incredulously at him. ‘No way,’ he said vehemently, his heart rate spiking as he realised he was being set up from all angles. ‘I haven’t been anywhere near there – on or off duty.’
‘We have photographic evidence, DI Cain,’ said Edwards, still watching him in that supposedly non-judgemental way he had. But the pen he was tapping rapidly on his desk and the fact that he was addressing him formally told Mark he was being judged – and found guilty. Of this. ‘CCTV images,’ Edwards went on, now eyeing him steadily, as he leaned back in his chair.
He waited.
Mark kneaded his forehead. He didn’t answer. How could he, other than to say It wasn’t me?
‘We also have a photograph which shows you apparently assaulting a sex worker,’ Edwards added, laying the pen down on his desk, as if demonstrating that he’d considered the facts and found him guilty. ‘Do you have an explanation for that?’
Tanya Stevens. Mark fixed his gaze hard on Cummings. ‘Provided by?’ he asked, bile rising in his throat.
‘A fellow officer who felt obliged to draw my attention to it.’
‘I bet he did.’ Laughing disdainfully, Mark dragged his gaze away. ‘It was a different time, a different place.’
‘To the one you weren’t in,’ Cummings added drolly.
Mark looked contemptuously back at him. ‘You bastard,’ he
seethed, fury burning impotently inside him.
Cummings nodded, almost imperceptibly, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth as he turned to perch himself on the edge of Edwards’ desk. ‘Bit of a shitty thing to do, wasn’t it, DI Cain, using your wife’s car to fuck prostitutes? Get off on it, do you?’
His wife’s? Mark was confused, for a split second. She’d had access to that too. Access to their lives and everything in it. Free access to Mel and Poppy, while he was being detained for Christ knew how long. ‘I have to get out of here,’ he said, his stomach knotting painfully. ‘I need to leave.’
‘You should know we’ve called in a forensic specialist to examine the car, DI Cain,’ Edwards said dispassionately.
‘A forensic?’ Mark was astounded. ‘Looking for what?’ he asked, his panic escalating.
Edwards didn’t answer.
‘You’ve been on top of the Daisy Evans case from outset, haven’t you, Cain?’ said Cummings. ‘Obsessed, almost.’ He paused, as Mark’s shocked gaze shot back to his. ‘One can’t help but wonder, given your… shall we say, sexual preferences… were you obsessed with finding her, or making sure no one else did?’
Mark felt the blood drain from his face. ‘Are you serious?’ He looked in utter disbelief between the two men.
‘We’ve been doing some digging,’ said Cummings. ‘Had a difficult childhood, didn’t you, DI Cain? Abused at the hands of your father. That must have been hard to deal with.’
Now he had to be joking. Mark shook his head, repulsed by the man and the implication. ‘Not in the way you’re implying,’ he said, his throat tight, his voice calm.
‘Really?’ Cummings’ accusing gaze strayed to his. ‘Still fucked you up, though, didn’t it, DI Cain?’
‘This is crazy!’ Mark clenched his fists. ‘You’re way out of order, Cummings, and you know it!’ He was now dangerously close to exploding.
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