Little Boy Lost

by J. P. Carter

  Her beloved Tom had been rushed there five hours ago in an ambulance, having been found badly beaten and unconscious in the street.

  After regaining consciousness, he had given them Anna’s number, but the A and E department hadn’t been able to get through to her so they’d contacted MIT.

  Walker said that whoever he spoke to at the hospital had told him that Tom was in a bad way. His condition was serious, but thankfully not critical. He hadn’t yet been interviewed by the police and he hadn’t managed to describe what had happened to him.

  According to the hospital, he was alone when the ambulance arrived to pick him up, but since waking he had been asking the same question over and over: ‘Where’s Chloe?’

  Anna had tried ringing her daughter’s mobile but it kept going to voicemail. She’d got the same response from her home phone and Tom’s too. An icy fear was therefore flooding through her body and her heart fluttered in panic.

  ‘Please let my baby be all right,’ she kept saying out loud to herself. She couldn’t lose her daughter again.

  Before leaving the Rossi house, Anna had instructed Benning and Moore to take Jacob’s parents to the mortuary. And she had asked Walker to pass on Chloe’s description to all units so that they could look out for her.

  Now as she drove with the blue light flashing, she tried to rein in her terror and not to assume the worst. But that was easier said than done without knowing the answers to the many questions that were prodding at her brain.

  If Chloe wasn’t with Tom, then where was she? And why wasn’t she answering her phone? Had she been by herself all night? Was she also lying injured somewhere?

  With her mind in such turmoil, Anna was finding it hard to concentrate on the road, but she needed to because although the night was over there were ongoing disturbances across London. Many streets remained blocked to traffic, while others were made treacherous by broken glass and other debris.

  She was forced to avoid East Dulwich because rioters were on the rampage along the busy Lordship Lane. A Co-op convenience store had been looted before being set on fire and a police officer had been repeatedly beaten after he was dragged from his patrol car.

  Anna prayed that her daughter hadn’t been caught up in the carnage, and that she was somewhere safe. She was only twelve, after all. Far too young and immature to be by herself at a time like this.

  Anna wanted to believe that Tom was asking where Chloe was because he was dazed and confused, not because he didn’t know. Hopefully he’d be more coherent when she got to talk to him and would remember what had happened after he’d picked Chloe up from the house.

  If he still didn’t have a clue as to her whereabouts, then Anna’s only option would be to embark on another anxious search for her daughter.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  ‘Now stop crying, young lady, and calm yourself down. You need to tell me and my husband who you are and what’s going on.’

  Ryan’s mum had a loud, stern voice and a face like thunder. As she spoke, the folds of fat beneath her tight red blouse wobbled, and foam formed at the corners of her mouth.

  Chloe was terrified. The woman towered above her, big brown eyes blazing with anger.

  ‘So tell me your name and why you’re here,’ she said. ‘We want to know where Ryan is. And Wesley. Why aren’t they answering their phones?’

  But Chloe was too upset to respond, so just stood in the middle of the living room, shaking and sobbing and wishing that this was another nightmare that she would wake up from.

  She hadn’t uttered a word since opening the front door to the couple, which could only have been a minute or so ago. The shock had rendered her speechless, and when she’d failed to tell them who she was, they had pushed past her and entered the flat, slamming the front door behind them.

  Having discovered that Chloe was alone, Ryan’s mum had grabbed her by the arm and ushered her roughly into the living room. Her husband, who was taller and thinner than she was, now hovered behind her with a deep frown on his forehead.

  ‘Please just answer the questions,’ the woman was saying in a softer, gentler voice. ‘We want to know that our son is all right. And we don’t understand why you’re here and he isn’t.’

  Chloe’s chest continued to heave with every sob, and she was struggling to gulp air into her lungs.

  The woman reached out suddenly and placed a hand on her shoulder, which made her flinch.

  ‘Look, we’re not going to hurt you. We’ve got no reason to. But surely you can see how worried we are. It’s obvious to us that something has happened and we want to know what it is.’

  Chloe closed her eyes, swallowed hard, started to fight back against the tears. The woman’s words gave her a crumb of comfort and made her feel less threatened, less scared.

  Even so it took a while for her to stop crying, and when she did, the woman leaned forward and dabbed at her cheeks with a pink hanky from her pocket.

  ‘That’s better,’ she said, and managed a weak smile. ‘Now come and sit down and tell us what’s going on.’

  Chloe allowed herself to be led to the sofa where the woman sat next to her while her husband stayed where he was, his back to the balcony window.

  ‘So let’s start with your name and how old you are.’

  Chloe drew in a breath and told her.

  ‘You’re younger than I thought you were,’ the woman said. ‘And that makes me even more curious to know what you’re doing in our son’s flat.’

  Chloe was still trying to decide what to tell her when a sound came from out in the hall. They both turned towards it.

  A moment later Wesley appeared in the open doorway, and his mouth fell open when he saw Ryan’s parents. He was still wearing the clothes he’d had on last night and it looked to Chloe as though he’d been crying again.

  ‘Oh fuck, I didn’t expect you to be here,’ he said. ‘I was gonna come and see you later.’

  ‘Well we’ve saved you the trouble, haven’t we?’ Ryan’s dad said, speaking for the first time. ‘So now tell us where our son is and what this slip of a girl is doing here.’

  *

  Chloe watched Wesley’s face crease up as he told the couple that their son was dead.

  Ryan’s mother let out a cry of pain and then burst into tears. His father started moving towards Wesley, and Chloe thought for a moment that he was going to hit him. But the man stopped just in front of Wesley, and said, ‘When? Where did it happen? Why didn’t you tell us?’

  Wesley struggled to get the words out, and the more he said, the more distressed Ryan’s parents became. He told them that he and Ryan had taken part in the riots, and how they had ended up in the gift shop.

  ‘It was Ryan’s idea,’ he said, pointing at Chloe. ‘He wanted to save the girl because she reminded him of Phoebe. We planned to leave her in the shop where we thought it’d be safe. But just as we were about to leave a petrol bomb was thrown through the window.’

  Wesley choked up as he described what had happened to his pal and how he had then led Chloe to safety.

  ‘But how can you be so sure that our son didn’t manage to get out of the shop as well?’ Ryan’s father said.

  Wesley’s eyes flitted nervously between the two parents, and then he glanced briefly at Chloe before responding.

  ‘When I woke up earlier, I saw from the balcony that the fire brigade had finally put the blaze out,’ he said. ‘So I went down there to tell them about Ryan. But they already knew because they’d found a body at the back of the gift shop.’

  Now it was the father’s turn to break down, but through his tears he was still able to ask Wesley if his son’s body had been moved.

  ‘They were still waiting to do that when I left there about ten minutes ago,’ Wesley said.

  ‘Then take me to him,’ the father said. To his wife, he added, ‘I think you should stay here, my love.’

  The woman nodded without speaking. But when the two men stepped out of the room she turned to Chl
oe, and said, ‘As soon as these riots kicked off, I phoned my son and told him not to join in because I suspected he’d be tempted. But deep down I also knew he’d ignore me. That’s why I panicked when I couldn’t get in touch with him.’

  ‘I’m so sorry he died because of me,’ Chloe said tearfully.

  The woman put a hand on Chloe’s knee. ‘Don’t be silly, young lady. Ryan was no saint, and he did a lot of awful things in his short life that brought shame on his family. So I’m glad that the last thing he did before he died was to help save someone’s life. That makes me so proud of him.’

  She pulled Chloe into her arms and for the next few minutes they cried into each other’s shoulders.

  CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

  As Anna approached King’s College Hospital, her mind was fogged by fatigue and adrenalin. She had a pulsing ache in her head, and the feeling of dread sat like a brick in her stomach.

  Her fears for Chloe’s safety had spiralled during the drive from Bromley because of the sheer amount of damage that had been inflicted on London by the rioters. Virtually every district she’d passed through had suffered in some way. Buildings had burned down, shops were boarded up, and wrecked cars, vans and even lorries and buses were everywhere.

  Last night had been the worst so far and the thought that her twelve-year-old daughter might have been in the thick of it chilled her to the bone.

  The streets around the hospital were crammed with parked vehicles, including ambulances and police cars.

  King’s was one of the busiest hospitals in the capital, and many of those injured in the riots would have been brought here.

  She found a space to park a couple of hundred yards away and hurried on foot towards the entrance. The sun that had shone first thing had now disappeared behind clouds that were low and heavy. It would be good if it rained for the rest of the day and into the night, she thought. Perhaps it would deter a lot of people from taking to the streets again.

  There were several police officers on duty outside the main entrance, and Anna assumed their job was to spot anyone who looked as though they were up to no good. They paid her no attention as she rushed inside.

  Because it was so busy, it took her a while to find out where Tom was. She made her way along corridors that were filled with patients because there was not enough space for them on the wards.

  Anna discovered that Tom had a recovery room to himself. Before going in there, she spoke to the doctor who had treated him in the emergency department when he was brought in.

  He explained that Tom had mild concussion, a broken arm, two fractured ribs, and a mass of cuts and bruises. But no damage had been done to any of his vital organs.

  ‘Thank God for that,’ Anna said. ‘At least his injuries aren’t life-threatening. I’ve been so worried.’

  ‘He took a severe beating,’ the doctor told her. ‘It seems to have been a racist attack carried out by a group of white men, or youths. After attacking him, they threw him onto the bonnet of his own car and drove along the road before crashing into a wall. Mr Bannerman rolled onto the pavement where he stayed for quite a while before an ambulance got to him. He’s very lucky in that his injuries aren’t as serious as they might have been considering what happened to him. And at least he wasn’t stabbed like many of the other people who turned up here during the night.’

  The doctor’s words sent an icy shiver down Anna’s spine. She hadn’t realised that the attack on him had been so vicious. Sure, he was lucky to be alive, but it was going to take him a long time to recover, both physically and mentally.

  ‘I gather he’s been asking about Chloe,’ she said.

  The doctor nodded. ‘That’s right. He says the girl, who’s twelve, was with him when the assault took place, but he doesn’t know what happened to her.’

  ‘Oh God. Chloe is my daughter and I haven’t been able to get in touch with her. Tom was taking care of her for me.’

  The doctor grimaced. ‘Well I hope he can be of help, Miss Tate. But be warned, he’s still feeling quite dizzy and disoriented, and the drugs we’ve given him are making it hard for him to concentrate.’

  ‘Is he awake?’

  ‘He was about five minutes ago when I last saw him.’

  Anna’s nerves were jangling as she walked into the recovery room. When she saw Tom, a hard lump expanded in her throat and her heart took a leap.

  Her boyfriend was propped up against raised pillows, and even from a distance she could see several lumps on his forehead, and a graze on his left cheek.

  There were more marks on his bare chest and his right arm was in plaster. He was also linked up to a saline drip and what looked like a blood pressure monitor.

  His eyes were closed, but he opened them as Anna stepped up to the bed.

  ‘I got here as soon as I could, Tom,’ she said, fighting back tears. ‘I should have suspected that something was wrong when you didn’t respond to my last text message.’

  She leaned over the bed and kissed him gently on the mouth, noting his bloodshot eyes and smoky breath.

  ‘I do hope you’re not in too much pain,’ she said, her voice cracking like splintered wood.

  He swallowed, which seemed to cause him some discomfort. ‘Not any more,’ he said, his voice low and croaky. ‘The medication they gave me has kicked in. I’ll be fine … it’s Chloe I’m worried about. Have you heard from her?’

  Anna straightened up, shook her head. ‘No I haven’t. I was hoping that you’d be able to tell me where she is. She’s not answering her mobile, and the landline at your flat is also ringing out.’

  ‘We didn’t make it to my flat,’ he said. ‘I was attacked outside your house.’

  Anna tried to still the fear that was gathering inside her. She reached for one of his hands and gently squeezed it.

  ‘Tell me what happened.’

  He shut his eyes, no doubt thinking back. ‘The street was filled with rioters heading for the estate and a group of men pulled us both out of the car,’ he said. ‘Just before I was set upon I saw that they’d let Chloe go. I shouted for her to go back indoors, and when they were laying into me in the road, I heard her screaming at them to leave me alone. But then I was picked up and thrown onto the car … I think that’s when I lost consciousness. The next thing I was aware of was waking up in the back of the ambulance.’

  ‘Chloe probably went back into the house then,’ Anna said.

  Tom opened his eyes. ‘I don’t think so, Anna. You see, I was the one who locked the front door and then I put the spare key in my jacket pocket.’

  A look of horror swept across Anna’s face. ‘Oh Christ. That means she could be anywhere … Or maybe those men didn’t let her go after all.’

  ‘No, I really can’t imagine that they would have hurt her. They were baying for black blood. I’m hoping that a neighbour took her in.’

  ‘But if that is what happened then surely I would have heard from them by now,’ Anna said, her voice a thin wheeze. ‘Chloe would have got them to contact me.’

  Anna didn’t know what to think, which encouraged dark thoughts to swirl around inside her mind. It wasn’t as though she could raise the alarm and spark a citywide search for her daughter. In the chaos caused by the riots there were probably dozens of people unaccounted for. And that, combined with everything else the force had to deal with, meant that Chloe would be low down on any list of priorities.

  ‘You have to go and find her,’ Tom said. ‘She’s been missing now for over fifteen hours.’

  ‘I will,’ Anna said. ‘Are you going to be all right?’

  ‘Of course. I’m really sorry about this, Anna. If I hadn’t suddenly decided to take her to my place this wouldn’t have happened. I just thought she’d be safer there. I didn’t know that …’ He lost it then and began to weep.

  ‘And she would have been, Tom,’ Anna said, stroking his face. ‘You did what you thought was best and you’ve got nothing to apologise for. So don’t even go there.’

&nbs
p; She kissed him again on the mouth and told him that she loved him.

  ‘Go and find her, Anna,’ he said between sobs. ‘She needs you now more than ever.’

  ‘I’ll be in touch as soon as I have news,’ she said.

  Then she hurried out of the recovery room.

  CHAPTER FORTY-THREE

  Anna wasn’t prepared for the sights that greeted her as she approached Vauxhall.

  It looked as though the area had been hit by a meteorite shower. Familiar streets were almost unrecognisable because fire had destroyed so many buildings, while others had been torn apart by looters.

  Riot police were still involved in clashes with youths along parts of South Lambeth Road and around Vauxhall station. Fire crews who’d been working through the night were dealing with fresh arson attacks while struggling to ensure that damaged structures were made safe.

  Anna heard on the radio that many residents had left their homes during the past forty-eight hours, distressed by events and fearful for their own safety.

  She realised that last night this must have been one of the most dangerous places in London. At least three people, including a police officer, were known to have been killed here, and God only knew how many had been injured.

  Blood was pounding in Anna’s ears as she turned into her own street. It came as a pleasant surprise when she saw that it hadn’t suffered too much damage. There was a lot of rubbish on the ground, but the houses appeared to be intact and there was no police presence. Several of the residents were out sweeping the pavements and picking up litter, while others were surveying the scene from their front gardens.

  As she pulled onto her short driveway, she noticed the words that had been scrawled in red paint on her front door. They ignited a blast of anger inside her.

  POLICE BITCH LIVES HERE

  In addition to the graffiti on the door an upstairs window had been smashed and the bins had been emptied over the garden.