by D. S. Butler
Christine was her neighbour. A sixty-year-old widow who had never had children, she’d been over the moon when Karen, Josh and Tilly moved in next door. Josh had joked about it, and they’d giggled about their overenthusiastic and slightly nosey neighbour. But they’d grown close to Christine, trusting her to mind Tilly when they went out. Immediately after the accident, Christine had been an angel, cleaning, cooking and taking care of the house. When Karen could barely put one foot in front of the other, Christine was there by her side, quietly encouraging her to return to day-to-day life. Even now, if she needed something, the first person she would call on was Christine. And it worked both ways. Two months ago, Christine had had a cancer scare, and it had been Karen whom she’d asked to accompany her to the hospital for appointments.
Christine answered on the fourth ring. ‘Hello.’
‘Christine, it’s me. I’m sorry to interrupt your evening, but I could really use a favour.’
‘Name it,’ Christine said.
‘Could you pick me up and take me to the station at Nettleham?’
‘Where are you?’
‘The Palmers’ farm.’
Christine huffed under her breath. ‘What are you doing there?’
‘Did you hear about the little girls that went missing?’ Karen asked.
Although it had only been a few hours since Sian Gibson and Emily Dean had disappeared, Christine had her finger on the pulse of village life. She was a member of the WI and very active in the community. There wasn’t much that went on in Branston without Christine knowing about it – although this was Heighington and not far away, it was possible the news hadn’t yet reached the local gossip network.
‘No. What happened?’
‘Two girls went missing from Moore Lane Primary School. Nigel Palmer’s land backs on to the school, so I wanted a word with him.’
‘That’s terrible. How old are the children?’
‘Only ten.’
Christine took a sharp intake of breath. ‘Hold tight. I’ll be there in five minutes.’
Karen hung up and used her mobile as a torch as she walked down the narrow private lane, avoiding the dips filled with freezing water. The night was getting rapidly colder, and Karen’s breath formed small clouds in front of her.
As good as her word, Christine was there just as Karen made it to the main road. She slipped into the passenger seat and was immediately bombarded with questions that she did her best to answer, although at this stage of the investigation she didn’t have much information.
‘I should get back to Nettleham before the briefing wraps up,’ Karen said, checking the time on her phone screen as they headed towards Lincoln.
‘I hope you find them tonight,’ Christine said. ‘Poor little mites must be freezing. That’s if they’re still outside,’ she added ominously.
Karen nodded. ‘Most children are taken by someone they know, usually a family member.’
Christine gave her a sideways glance as they came to a stop at the traffic lights on Canwick Hill. ‘But you don’t think that’s the case this time?’
Karen exhaled deeply, puffed out her cheeks and shook her head. ‘I don’t know. But I’ve got a bad feeling.’
Christine shivered as she pulled away from the lights. ‘You suspect Nigel Palmer again.’ It wasn’t a question.
Karen took a deep breath and phrased her response carefully. Christine was a good friend but there were some aspects of the investigation she couldn’t talk about. ‘The circumstances are very different to Amy Fisher’s disappearance.’
Christine’s hands tightened on the wheel. She’d been close to Amy’s parents, befriending them soon after they’d moved to the area when Amy was tiny. ‘I know you can’t talk about the case.’
‘I haven’t given up on Amy, you know. It must seem like that because the investigation has been scaled back, but she hasn’t been forgotten.’
‘I know.’
‘Have you spoken to Janine and Bill recently?’ Amy’s parents had moved back to Scotland a few months ago. Janine had been convinced Nigel Palmer was behind her daughter’s disappearance.
A month before they left the village, the police were called to remove Janine from the Palmer farm. She’d been drinking and had hammered on the front door, demanding answers and refusing to leave until she got them. Nigel Palmer had threatened to press charges.
‘I’ve not spoken to them since they moved. I’ve called a couple of times, but they don’t return my calls. They don’t speak to anyone from the village any more.’
‘That’s not healthy.’
Christine gave a sad smile. ‘They’re just trying to deal with their grief the best they can and talking to me brings back painful memories, I suppose.’
Karen nodded. ‘Understandable. There’s nothing healthy about losing a child. They need to do whatever they can to get through each day, I guess.’
‘It’s hard for them to move on without knowing what really happened to Amy.’
Karen stared down at her hands for a moment before turning to Christine. ‘I need to be careful with this case.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I keep looking for a link to what happened eighteen months ago. I should be able to separate this case from what happened to Amy, but I can’t. I keep thinking there’s a pattern there, a reason behind it all, but I can’t see it. I feel so helpless, like I did after Josh and Tilly.’
‘You wanted to make sense of the accident, and no one could blame you for that. Sometimes terrible things happen for no reason.’
‘When I was talking to Nigel Palmer, I could feel myself wanting to push harder. I wasn’t cool and calm, I was furious. I’m worried I’ll lose perspective again.’
‘Losing Josh and Tilly was different. You wouldn’t be working this case if your boss didn’t think you could handle it.’
Karen looked out of the passenger window. Christine was right. She had spent months trying to analyse the crash that killed Josh and Tilly. She’d convinced herself it wasn’t an accident, even going so far as to accuse her colleagues in traffic of a cover-up, despite having no evidence to back up that theory. Things had spiralled quickly. It was only thanks to her DI at the time that she’d got the help she needed to recognise her feelings while understanding she didn’t need to act on them.
There was another reason Karen had asked her friend to pick her up, rather than asking someone from the station for a lift or waiting for a taxi. Christine knew people. She’d lived in Branston all her life, and had close friends in Heighington and Washingborough.
‘I thought maybe you could put the word out to see if anyone knows or has seen anything.’
Christine nodded. ‘Sure.’
By the time they got to Nettleham, Karen was feeling a little better. Her time spent in Nigel Palmer’s company had put her on edge and left her with a faint nausea. But seeing Christine had restored her. When they reached police HQ, Christine dropped Karen as close to the entrance as she could.
‘Thanks very much, Christine. I owe you one,’ Karen said as she climbed out of the car.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t owe me anything. I just hope you find those girls.’
‘Me too.’ Karen shut the car door, waved her friend off and hurried into the station.
The briefing room was packed, and the session looked to be almost over. Karen grabbed one of the last remaining seats next to Rick.
DI Morgan stood near the front talking to Superintendent Murray.
‘How are things progressing?’ Karen asked.
Rick had a look of grim determination on his face. ‘We’ve spent the last few hours combing through the background on each family. There’s a couple of anomalies that DI Morgan wants us to investigate further. But nothing that’s going to crack the case, unfortunately. We’ve phoned around most of the businesses and farms in the area and asked people to keep an eye out for the girls. The big news is, the super’s put out a child alert.’
K
aren raised an eyebrow.
Rick nodded. ‘Exactly. We’re getting some help from other forces to monitor the calls. Apparently, they’ve already been pretty overwhelming, and the hotline’s only been running for an hour.’
‘I’ll bet,’ Karen said and then settled back into her chair as Superintendent Murray called everyone to attention and said a few words to end the briefing.
When it was all was over, Superintendent Murray asked DI Morgan and Karen to come to her office.
DI Morgan shut the door behind them, and Superintendent Murray sank into her chair. She rarely appeared ruffled, but today she looked very stressed. ‘In the last hour, we’ve had numerous responses to the Missing Child Alert. Are you happy with the allocation of officers? I know we get vast amounts of information from the general public after an alert.’
‘About one hundred possible sightings so far,’ DI Morgan said, not sounding terribly excited about any of them. ‘Other reported sightings can be ruled out due to location and descriptions. But I think the floodgates are going to open as the alert spreads across social media.’
Superintendent Murray pinched the bridge of her nose with a thumb and forefinger. ‘Let’s hope one or more of the responses turns out to be helpful.’
‘So far, the team’s coping with the number of calls, which is good. Whether or not we’re going to be able to follow up on every one in a timely fashion is another matter,’ DI Morgan said.
‘If needed, we can bring in more staff to cover. But I need you two to focus on the girls’ families. I don’t need to remind you that stranger abductions are very rare. It’s very likely that they’ve been taken by someone they know and trust. That means our focus is best directed at the families and any information they can give us. We know the Deans have a history of mixing with criminals, and the girls could have potentially been targeted because of that. But I also want you to keep looking into Sian Gibson’s family. Her father owns a software development company. DC Cooper told us his business has seen remarkable growth over a short period of time. That type of expansion doesn’t usually happen without putting a few noses out of joint on the way.’
Karen nodded. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
There was a knock at the door. Superintendent Murray barked, ‘Enter’ and DC Sophie Jones poked her head in the room.
‘Sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but we’ve found something.’
‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ her boss said, leaning forward. ‘Come in. What did you find?’
‘A glove belonging to one of the girls.’
‘Where was this glove found?’ DI Morgan asked.
‘In a hedgerow close to the school, just past the boundary of the wood, bordering on Nigel Palmer’s farmland.’
‘Who found it?’ Karen asked, expecting Sophie to say a member of the public out for a jog or walking their dog.
‘Jasper Palmer. He was out looking for the girls on his land, following DS Hart’s request.’
‘You spoke to Jasper Palmer?’ Superintendent Murray asked, turning to Karen.
Karen shook her head. ‘No, not directly. I stopped by the Palmer farm just now to ask them to keep a lookout for the girls and to check their outbuildings. Their land borders the edge of the school,’ she explained.
‘I’m aware of that,’ Superintendent Murray said, without taking her eyes from Karen. ‘Why did you visit the Palmer farm in person? All the farms and landowners in the area have already been contacted by DC Cooper, haven’t they?’
Karen shifted uncomfortably. She knew the superintendent wanted to know if she’d received a tip-off or whether she had any evidence to suggest Palmer’s involvement. But she had neither of these. Just a feeling, and that wouldn’t stand up to the superintendent’s scrutiny.
‘We were passing, ma’am. I dropped Karen off, so she could have a word with them, and I came back here to organise the briefing,’ DI Morgan said.
‘Are we sure the glove belongs to one of the girls?’ Karen asked. A glove found in a hedgerow could have been there for a long time. There was no reason to suspect it had to belong to Sian or Emily.
Sophie nodded. ‘Yes, I should have explained. It has Sian’s name tag inside. Apparently, her mother tags everything because she’s always losing her belongings.’
Karen’s interest intensified. ‘I’d like to talk to Jasper about this finding, ma’am.’
The request was met with a stony silence from the superintendent.
‘I think it’s better if I talk to Jasper Palmer, ma’am,’ DI Morgan said. ‘And DS Hart could go and visit the Gibson family.’
Karen had the distinct impression they wanted to keep her away from the Palmers. ‘I really think it’s better if I talk to Jasper. I know the family, and I’m sure I’d be able to get more out of him.’
DI Morgan did not look amused. Karen couldn’t blame him. She was going directly against his wishes in front of the superintendent. Not exactly a wise move if she wanted to win over her boss.
‘I agree with DI Morgan,’ the superintendent said. ‘You might be a little too close to the Palmers to be objective, Karen.’
‘I can assure you I keep an open mind when doing my job.’ As soon as she said the words, Karen knew she had gone too far. You didn’t snap at the superintendent and get away with it.
There was an awkward silence, and Sophie stared at her in surprise. It made Karen feel like a naughty schoolgirl.
She sighed. ‘But if you think it’s best, I’ll go and speak to the Gibson family while DI Morgan talks to Jasper Palmer.’
Superintendent Murray gave a tight smile. ‘Good. That’s settled then.’
‘A question, Sophie,’ DI Morgan said. ‘Have the Gibsons been told Sian’s glove has been recovered?’
Sophie shook her head. ‘Not yet, sir. Because it was labelled, we didn’t need them to identify it, and we didn’t want to upset them.’
DI Morgan thought for a moment. ‘I think they’ll be grateful if we’re honest with them. I think we should tell them. Plus, we need to know if Sian was wearing that glove today.’
‘Yes, do that. Then we need to tell the search team where the glove was found so we can coordinate in a tighter area. It’s possible Sian lost the glove before today, in which case we don’t want to focus too much on it yet.’ The superintendent nodded to indicate they were dismissed.
As they filed out of the office, she called Karen back. ‘Just a moment, Karen.’
She waited until DI Morgan had left and shut the door. When they were alone, Karen braced herself for a dressing-down. She’d deserve it too. She shouldn’t have lost her temper.
‘Right, do you want to tell me what all that was about?’ Superintendent Murray asked.
‘What?’ Karen asked, putting on her best innocent expression.
The superintendent sat back in her chair and scrutinised Karen. ‘You seem very reluctant to visit the Gibsons. I know your daughter was younger than Emily and Sian when you lost her, but this case must be especially hard for you. Are you finding it difficult to deal with the parents?’ The superintendent gave Karen a sympathetic smile.
Karen swallowed the lump in her throat. If she’d lived, Tilly would have been ten now. The same age as Emily and Sian. She felt her irritation melt away. She’d expected a few cutting remarks, not concern.
‘No, ma’am. It’s not that. To be honest, it’s the history with the Palmer family. As you know, I was working on the Amy Fisher case, and Nigel Palmer—’
Superintendent Murray finished Karen’s sentence. ‘—Nigel Palmer was a major suspect in the enquiry.’
Karen nodded. ‘With two cases concerning youngsters going missing in such a short time and such a small area . . .’
‘True, but the disappearance of a nineteen-year-old woman wouldn’t necessarily be related to the disappearance of two ten-year-old girls. Besides, an individual who targets children is unlikely to be the same predator who targeted a young woman.’
Karen bowed her head. ‘That’
s exactly what DI Morgan said.’
Superintendent Murray pushed some papers out of the way then leaned her forearms on her desk, studying Karen. ‘How are you getting on with DI Morgan? Is he fitting in well?’
‘He’s very thorough, ma’am.’
Superintendent Murray tried and failed to suppress a smile. ‘You say that like it’s a bad thing, Karen.’
‘Not at all. He works hard and bases his decisions on logic.’
‘So there are no problems in the team?’
‘None at all, ma’am.’
‘That’s good to hear. Now, you’d better get to the Gibsons’ house and try to uncover something that helps us work out what has happened to these two little girls.’
CHAPTER TEN
Leanne Gibson’s heart was fluttering in her chest. From the moment she’d heard her daughter was missing, she’d experienced an almost constant surge of adrenaline. It made her feel light-headed, dry-mouthed and shaky. She was on high alert, and every noise made her jump.
She wiped a cloth over the kitchen counter, finding a small comfort in the familiar domestic task. As she moved the cloth back and forth over the same spot, she stared out at the dark garden and the fields beyond.
Was Sian out there, scared and alone, or had someone stolen her away? She didn’t want to imagine either option, but the scenarios ran through her mind whether she liked it or not.
She felt like she was living in a nightmare. How could this be happening to her daughter? It wasn’t fair.
She was a good mother. She’d hardly let Sian out of her sight since the day she was born. She didn’t even like members of her own family babysitting. Why had she relented and allowed Sian to visit Emily Dean’s house for tea? She imagined police officers and locals out there in the darkness, still searching. They wouldn’t give up just because the sun had set, would they? She’d have to ask the family liaison officer because she couldn’t let that happen. If they stopped looking for Sian, then Leanne would go out and search the woods and fields herself.
Thomas had persuaded her to stay at home, away from the search. He said there was still a chance that Sian would come home of her own accord, but Leanne was starting to think that was very unlikely. Sian was a good girl, and she wouldn’t make them worry unnecessarily. She’d had it drummed into her from an early age not to talk to strangers. She wasn’t even allowed to visit the corner shop on her own.