Little Girl Gone

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Little Girl Gone Page 16

by Stephen Edger


  ‘Crimes against children are incredibly emotive,’ Kirkman answered solemnly. ‘Even those without children of their own feel protective towards younger members of society. It’s evolution: it’s in our programming to take care of those more vulnerable than ourselves.’

  Alex snorted. ‘You wouldn’t have thought from reading the messages.’ She opened them for him to read. ‘Just look.’

  Kirkman leaned closer as he processed each spiteful word. ‘This is the one of the reasons why I don’t get involved in social media. It’s tough in my line of business not to have more of an online presence. This kind of abuse – where the bully gets to hide behind a fake name and picture – it’s inhumane if you ask me.’

  ‘Isla suggested I should delete the accounts, and I was going to after last night’s abuse, but I’ve now decided to leave it.’

  He raised a sceptical eyebrow. ‘I can’t for the life of me see why.’

  ‘Two reasons, I think,’ she mused. ‘Firstly, if people are still talking about it then it means Carol-Anne’s abduction will remain in the public eye for longer. And the longer people are talking about it, the better the chance that someone will find her or come forward with information.’

  ‘And the second reason? I hope it’s not so you can continually beat yourself up over what happened?’

  Her brow furrowed as she shook her head. ‘I’m not a masochist!’

  ‘Then why keep them?’

  ‘I have to keep believing Carol-Anne is still alive and that she will be returned to me one day soon. And when that day comes, I will message each of these people back, and … I don’t know … vindicate myself in some way. Silly, right?’

  ‘The desire for revenge is a base human instinct; however it’s true what they say: it doesn’t help. Can I be blunt with you, Alex? I’m asking as a friend as much as a therapist.’

  She nodded.

  ‘You’ve already been through so much in the past year without welcoming more pain into your life. I don’t believe that replying to any of these bullies will make you feel better. In fact, I think you’ll feel worse for it. It’s good that your focus is on getting your daughter back, and I would strongly encourage that optimism; just don’t let the temptation of getting back at your accusers taint your focus. Clearly, these messages are truly hurtful; I’m not sure you’re strong enough for another battle.’

  She looked down, suddenly noticing his hand on hers.

  He withdrew it as soon as she noticed, standing suddenly and moving back to the patio door. ‘Forgive me, I overstepped my position.’

  Alex was about to respond when a gentle knock at the living room door caused them both to look around.

  ‘You have a visitor,’ Isla said quietly, poking her head through from the kitchen.

  The door opened wider and Sophie scuttled in. ‘I got your message … oh, I’m sorry,’ she said when she saw Dr Kirkman, ‘I didn’t realize you had a guest. I can come back—’

  ‘No, it’s okay,’ Alex interrupted, pleased to see her friend. ‘Please stay. Sophie, this is Dr Saeed Kirkman, my counsellor.’

  Kirkman smiled broadly at Sophie, extending his hand for her to shake, which she did.

  ‘Sophie’s my next-door neighbour,’ Alex explained.

  Kirkman turned to face Alex. ‘I should get going. Will you show me to the door?’

  Alex nodded and stood, telling Sophie she would return in a moment. She closed the door as they left the room and then proceeded to the front door.

  ‘Listen, Alex,’ Kirkman said as Alex reached for the lock, ‘I really think it would be a benefit to you to make another appointment to see me, and soon. The last thing you want is additional stress to drag you back down.’ He eyed her wrists where the scars from her past selfmutilation remained.

  Alex folded her arms. ‘I told you, Dr Kirkman, I’m doing a lot better. If I feel things starting to get on top of me, I promise I will call you.’

  ‘We don’t even have to meet in my office,’ he said, rubbing her arm gently. ‘We could go for a coffee, or some food, and just talk. As a friend, I mean. Just because I was your counsellor doesn’t mean …’ He stopped himself before he said anymore. ‘And I’m sure whoever has taken your daughter will let her go soon enough. I’ve always believed that good things happen to good people, and I think you’re a good person, Alex.’

  She didn’t agree with him, but appreciated the sentiment.

  ‘You have my number,’ he added, and then he stepped out, glaring at the rain clouds overhead and jogging back to his car parked at the bottom of the driveway.

  Alex closed the door and made her way back to the living room, where Sophie was waiting patiently.

  ‘I didn’t expect you to come over,’ Alex said apologetically, feeling her conversation with Dr Kirkman had done more to ease the burden than anything Sophie could offer.

  ‘Nonsense. I told you I’m here for whatever you need. You helped me in my hour of need, and I’m here for you.’

  Alex rubbed her arm to show her gratitude. ‘I hope you didn’t change any plans to come over?’

  ‘I was relieved to get your message to be honest. I was supposed to be meeting up with Noemi, but she cancelled at the last minute. A work thing apparently.’

  The laptop beeped, and Alex remembered she hadn’t logged back out of Twitter. Lifting the laptop, she was surprised to see no new notifications on the internet page, and then saw the email icon flashing in the corner of the screen. She clicked on it without thinking, and her heart skipped a beat as she saw who the new message was from.

  Simon Says …

  Carol-Anne is such a cutie, do your maternal duty.

  He deserves to die, and he knows why.

  If you don’t fulfil my wish, I will gut her like a fish.

  2 days.

  32

  Ray lowered his window a fraction. The car felt stuffy, despite the heavy rain now splashing against the windscreen. Ahead of him a sea of red tail lights stretched as far as the eye could see. Ironically, although he’d joined the motorway half an hour ago, he was actually closer to home than when he’d started, having not moved in some time.

  The M3 could be bad at the best of times, but there had to have been an accident causing this kind of tailback. He was still at least forty miles from his destination, and according to his phone he wouldn’t make it there in over an hour, with the ETA rising by the minute.

  He looked up at his reflection in the mirror. The anxiety had passed, and he now felt frustration and anger. ‘Maybe you should take it as a sign,’ he told his bloodshot eyes, knowing it would take more than heavy traffic to deter him from his end goal. Trent felt justified in sending a team to examine the Fleet Pond Nature Reserve, and if she had reason, then he had to see what was there.

  He tried to push the worst fears from his mind, reminding himself who Alex was and the love she’d shown their daughter every day since she’d conceived.

  He lifted his bottom slightly to try to get a better view of what could be holding up the cars in front. It didn’t look like there would be any movement anytime soon. And it wasn’t like he could find an alternative route to his destination, nor could he make any attempt to leave the motorway and give up on his quest, as he was stuck in the outside lane, and the next exit was still half a mile away. It was hard to imagine how regular users could put up with this kind of jam on a daily basis.

  Reaching into his jacket he pulled out the packet of cigarettes and removed the last one, screwing up the packet and dropping it back on the seat.

  ‘What?’ he shouted at his judgemental reflection. ‘It’s my last one.’

  He lit it, savouring the burn against the back of his throat and the familiar smell of the smoke that only smokers could truly appreciate. He exhaled through the tiny gap in the window. Smoking in a squad car was a strict no-no, but at this point in time he didn’t care; there was every chance he would be unemployed soon enough in any case for violating Trent’s order to stay away.
>
  He nearly dropped the cigarette when his mobile phone erupted to life, and he answered it without checking the display.

  ‘Ray?’ Jodie said urgently. ‘Silly question: did you borrow the squad car? I swear I left the keys on the desk, and now I can’t find them and nobody has checked them back in.’

  He closed his eyes, tempted to lie and cover his deceit, knowing it would only come back to haunt him at some point in the future. ‘Um, yeah, I have it. Sorry.’

  ‘Oh thank God,’ she said, the relief obvious from her tone, ‘I was starting to think I was losing my marbles. Are you happy for me to put your name in the log book?’

  ‘Yeah, of course. Sorry, I should have said before I took off.’

  ‘Where are you going anyway? I thought you were heading home?’

  ‘I was, but then I remembered there was something I needed to follow up.’

  ‘For the robbery case?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said quickly. ‘I wanted to … um … speak to the team looking at the other robberies in Berkshire. I thought I could share the image from the traffic camera with them and see if they recognized the face.’

  ‘I was going to email them a copy tonight. There was no need to drive there.’

  ‘Yeah, I know, but … I needed some space and thought the drive would do me some good.’

  ‘Oh, fair enough I suppose. If you’d said I’d have tagged along with you.’

  ‘No offence, Jodie, I wanted to be on my own to clear my head. With everything that’s going on at home—’

  ‘Say no more,’ she interrupted, ‘I do understand, Ray. Are you nearly there?’

  ‘I wish! Been jammed in traffic for twenty minutes. The M3 is at a standstill.’

  ‘Overturned lorry just before Junction 9,’ Jodie explained. ‘Diesel all over the bypass, so they’ve had to shut the road while a clean-up crew sorts it. You’re going to be stuck there for a while.’

  He cursed under his breath. ‘Screw it then. You send them the email and let me know what they say. I’ll do my best to get off the road and head back to the station.’

  ‘Will do. Good luck!’ She hung up.

  Finishing the cigarette, he flicked the butt out of the window, watching as a tiny trail of sparks temporarily lit the road before it fizzled out in a puddle. Staring down at the screwedup packet, he wished he’d bought some more before joining the motorway. He was sure Alex must have noticed the smell by now, yet she still hadn’t mentioned it. He wondered what else she might not be discussing with him.

  The car in front moved forward ten yards as someone further up left the lane. Ray edged forward as the phone came to life in his hand again. Applying the handbrake, he answered it.

  ‘Alex? I can’t really talk, I’m—’

  ‘He sent another one, Ray,’ she interjected, her voice quivering as she spoke.

  ‘Who sent another what?’

  ‘Simon … he emailed me again. This time there’s a picture of our baby …’ Her voice broke under the strain, making her words almost inaudible. ‘Carol-Anne and a copy of today’s newspaper.’

  Ray narrowed his eyes, no longer looking at the road ahead. ‘Hold on, wait, you mean the guy who emailed yesterday? He sent another message?’

  ‘Yes! I told you it was real! He has our baby.’

  ‘Calm down, Alex, you’re not making any sense. I can hear you’re upset, but I need you to calmly tell me what the email says.’

  Alex took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure. ‘“Simon Says: Carol-Anne is such a cutie, do your maternal duty. He deserves to die, and he knows why. If you don’t fulfil my wish, I will gut her like a fish. 2 days.”’

  Bile bubbled at the back of his throat and he choked it back, his mind racing with a cocktail of terror and confusion.

  A second message.

  But from who?

  And why?

  And who deserves to die?

  ‘When did you receive it?’ he asked, his vision blurring.

  ‘Just now. Don’t you see what this means? She’s still alive, Ray. Wherever she is, she’s safe and well.’

  Until Trent had mentioned her suspicions about Alex’s reasons for visiting Fleet, he’d refused to even consider the possibility that Carol-Anne could be dead. What did this mean for Trent’s supposition about Alex? She couldn’t have harmed Carol-Anne if there was proof that she was alive and well today.

  He didn’t know whether to be relieved or shocked, the butterflies in his gut fluttering wildly.

  ‘Does it say anything else? Is there any clue who sent it?’

  ‘No. There are two images this time. The one with Carol-Anne and then a picture of a man.’

  Ray’s pulse quickened. ‘A man? Who?’

  ‘I don’t know! I’ve never seen him before.’

  ‘What does he look like?’

  ‘The picture is black and white, but I’d say he’s in his sixties – his hair looks white as snow – his face is wrinkled and he’s snarling.’

  ‘Snarling?’

  ‘Yeah, like a cowboy. I need you to come home. Now.’

  Ray stared at the line of red lights ahead of him and to his left. ‘Okay, I’m stuck in traffic, but I’ll do whatever I can to get home. What does Isla say about the message?’

  ‘She’s been trying to get hold of DI Trent. Apparently she isn’t in the office and isn’t answering her phone.’

  Ray put on the car’s indicator, looking over his shoulder for a chance to cut into the middle lane. ‘I’m going to have to go, Alex. Listen to me, tell Isla to keep trying Trent.’

  ‘Please hurry, Ray.’

  ‘I’ll be there as quickly as I can. I swear,’ he said, meaning every word, and desperately wanting to take Alex into his arms and apologize for ever doubting her story.

  Dropping the phone on the seat, he switched on the blue lights built in to the vehicle’s grill. Then, spotting a gap, he quickly pulled into the middle lane to a cacophony of horns. He didn’t care. Right now, he needed to be home, and he wasn’t going to let anything get in his way. If he could make it to the hard shoulder, he could cut through the traffic and reach the next exit in no time.

  ‘I’m coming, baby,’ he muttered under his breath. ‘Daddy’s coming.’

  33

  Alex was still perched on the edge of the sofa, gently rocking, when Isla returned to the room, the anxious look on her face reflecting how Alex was feeling. Sophie had offered to stay, but had made herself scarce while Alex had been on the phone to Ray.

  ‘Well?’ Alex asked, unable to contain herself any longer.

  Isla shook her head. ‘Still nothing. I’ve reported it to the team and forwarded the message for forensic examination. I still can’t get hold of DI Trent. Did you manage to get through to Ray?’

  Alex nodded, feeling jittery. She hadn’t even realized that she’d allowed herself to question whether Carol-Anne was still alive. Now the relief was palpable. She didn’t even look upset in the picture, which meant whoever had her was treating her well.

  That was a good sign, wasn’t it? Carol-Anne had always been a happy, smiley child – to see her smiling now brought an element of comfort in what had been a harrowing couple of days.

  ‘I’ll keep trying DI Trent,’ Isla said. ‘She needs to know we’ve received proof of life.’

  Isla’s hand shot up to her mouth, as she realized what it was she’d said and how it could be misconstrued. ‘I’m sorry, I meant it’s good that she looks well and healthy. That’s really positive. The last thing you should do right now is panic—’

  ‘I shouldn’t panic? I can’t believe you just told me that!’

  Isla was clearly used to handling out-of-control parents. Right now Alex needed more. Being told to relax and stay calm wasn’t going to help Carol-Anne. She needed someone to take charge, to find the cruel bastard who was sending the emails and to get her daughter back. Right now, Isla looked like she couldn’t even organize a three-course dinner.

  She needed
Ray to take charge of the situation.

  Who the hell was the man in the other image? She certainly didn’t recognize him. Why weren’t the police more interested in that side of the message? Both rhymes had stated this Jack – whoever he was – had to die in order for Carol-Anne to be returned.

  Were they even looking into who Jack could be? Or why someone wanted him dead? If they could identify Jack, then maybe they could trace the threat back to whoever had sent the message in the first place.

  ‘Do you know who this man is yet?’ Alex asked, lifting the laptop and carrying it to where Isla was standing. ‘Hmm? Who is he, and what does he have to do with my daughter?’

  Isla didn’t look at the screen, keeping her eyes trained on Alex. ‘I don’t know who that person is or what he has to do with any of this. I assure you the team is investigating that side of things.’

  Alex studied Isla’s face, certain there was more behind those dark eyes than she was saying. ‘They can do facial recognition, right? Like on the television? They can scan his face and see if it matches any known criminals; they can do that, can’t they?’

  Isla’s lips tightened. ‘I will keep trying to get hold of DI Trent,’ she said soothingly. ‘Until that time there really isn’t anything else we can—’

  ‘How would you feel if someone kidnapped Luke?’ Alex interrupted.

  Isla’s confusion was all too apparent.

  ‘Your son, Isla, what if someone emailed you with his picture and said they were going to kill him if you didn’t do as they said? How would you react? Would you stay calm? Huh?’ Alex leapt to her feet and moved to the back door, staring out as the rain continued to fall, the puddles now resting on the top of the grass.

  ‘I understand your anxiety, Alex, and if lashing out at me helps then so be it. I am here to help you, and to help bring Carol-Anne back to you.’ She tapped the phone against her cheek, adding, ‘I’ll keep trying,’ before heading out of the room and closing the door behind her.

  Alex’s legs felt like they were going to cave at any moment as the room began to spin. How could this be happening? How could she have allowed it to happen? A year ago, they had been so happy. Since discovering she was pregnant again, everything had begun to fall apart. And now, just as she was starting to get back to something resembling normality, the rug had been pulled out again.

 

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