Gone

by Rebecca Muddiman

  Lawton opened the door and turned back when Adam didn’t follow. Adam pulled out his wallet and found a picture of Louise. He dug in his pockets for a bit of paper but came up empty-handed and instead turned the photo over.

  ‘Can I borrow your pen,’ he said.

  Adam wrote his name, phone number and address on the back of the photo and handed it to Lawton with the pen. ‘Please,’ he said. ‘She wouldn’t have just gone off of her own free will. I know she wouldn’t.’

  Lawton looked at the picture and nodded at Adam. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ she said and showed Adam out.

  Chapter 63

  17 December 2010

  Freeman pulled into the car park and turned off the engine. She looked at Gardner, who was staring ahead at the building like an arachnophobe about to be handed a box of tarantulas.

  ‘You ready?’ she asked and he nodded and climbed out of the car. ‘We’ll go straight to the cells. Mike Rogen is going to meet us there. You know him?’ she asked.

  ‘Nope,’ he said and Freeman tried to think of something else to say to clear the air. She’d already assumed Gardner didn’t know Rogen; he’d only been there six years. She’d been hoping it would put him at ease, knowing he wasn’t about to face someone he knew, but she guessed he’d taken it as another probing question. That she’d been wanting to get Rogen to dish the dirt on him later.

  ‘We shouldn’t be here too long,’ she said, trying to keep pace with him. ‘We’ll head to Alnwick as soon as possible. Try and catch up with Ben Swales.’ Gardner just nodded and opened the door, letting her walk through first.

  As they walked down towards the cells she heard a voice behind her call her name and she felt her stomach tighten. She turned around and saw McIlroy walking towards her. When he saw Gardner his face dropped.

  ‘What the fuck is he doing here?’ McIlroy said. Gardner gave Freeman a look that told her he was about as happy as McIlroy. He probably thought she’d set it up. Set him up.

  ‘DI Gardner is helping with the Emma Thorley investigation,’ she said.

  ‘DI?’ McIlroy said. ‘Who’d you screw over to get that?’

  ‘Fuck you, Bob,’ Gardner said with a weariness that made Freeman think he’d been asked it before.

  ‘This is why you were asking about him?’ McIlroy said to Freeman and she felt her face burn. ‘I told you he was scum, told you what he did and you still bring him in here?’

  ‘You didn’t tell me anything,’ she said, trying not to look at Gardner. ‘But this is about an investigation which DI Gardner can help with. This has nothing to do with you.’

  McIlroy turned to Gardner, getting up in his face. ‘You seen Stu Wallace’s kid recently?’ Freeman saw Gardner’s hands curl into fists.

  ‘You seen your badge recently?’ she said, and watched McIlroy’s face turn red. ‘Fuck off, McIlroy,’ she said and moved between the two men. ‘We’ve got work to do. Why don’t you go and find a paper to read.’

  McIlroy snorted and walked away. Gardner watched him go and then turned and walked in the opposite direction. Freeman caught up with him.

  ‘I’m sorry about that,’ she said.

  ‘It’s fine.’

  ‘No, it’s not. And I only asked about you because you’d worked on Emma’s case and I needed to find you. I wasn’t looking for—’

  ‘It’s fine,’ he said again.

  ‘I don’t want you to think that I believe the bullshit that comes out of McIlroy’s mouth. Whatever happened in the past, I don’t care. I just—’

  Gardner stopped, causing Freeman to almost walk into him. ‘Leave it alone, Freeman,’ he said and walked away, leaving her standing alone in the corridor.

  Chapter 64

  9 December 1999

  He couldn’t take his eyes off her. He knew he shouldn’t have come. For his sake as much as theirs. Of course he wasn’t going to go marching into the chapel and make this harder for them than it already was. He had no intention of getting out of the car. But just seeing the look on her face as the car pulled up with the coffin was enough for his heart to break and for him to wish more than anything that none of this had ever happened.

  She looked younger than twelve. She was short and skinny, had red hair like her mother. There was no trace of Stuart Wallace in the girl’s appearance.

  She clung to her mother’s hand like her life depended on it. People came up to them, expressing sorrow, hugging and kissing, and still she didn’t let go. She looked as though letting go of her mother would be the end of the world for her. Her mother was all she had left.

  He watched as crowds gathered. Who knew Wallace had been that popular? Several representatives from the force had turned out. Of course Clarkson was there along with the rest of the team. Carol Smith clung to her husband and continually wiped her eyes. He wondered if she’d stopped crying at all since hearing the news. Gardner hadn’t been into the office since the day the news broke. Clarkson had called and suggested taking some annual leave.

  McIlroy stood against the wall of the chapel, chain-smoking until it was time to go inside. Gardner ducked down a little so McIlroy wouldn’t see him. The last thing he needed – anyone needed – was him causing a scene. And Bob McIlroy wouldn’t shy away from causing a scene, whether he was at his best mate’s funeral or not.

  And maybe he’d be right to this time. Gardner knew he shouldn’t be here. Didn’t really know why he was. But he knew he’d have to wait until everyone had filed into the chapel before he could drive away. If he did it now someone would notice.

  It took a moment before he recognised her. She climbed out of a taxi dressed head to toe in black, including oversized sunglasses. Just as he was thinking what kind of drama queen wears sunglasses to a funeral in December, she took them off and he realised it was his wife. Or ex-wife, as she was now. She’d cut her hair short and coloured it. Anyone would think she was in disguise. Perhaps she was. He wondered how tasteful it was for her to be there with Wallace’s wife and daughter and thought that it was good that the place was full of so many police officers as Annie approached Wallace’s wife. He steeled himself for the slap. Instead the women embraced and Annie kissed Wallace’s daughter on the cheek. No one seemed surprised. Maybe other people dealt with things more civilly.

  Finally the coffin was taken from the hearse and the crowd started to gather to follow it inside. Part of him wanted to go and tell the family how sorry he was; to tell Annie. He wanted to touch her, wanted her to need him again. If only she would look up and see him there then maybe she’d come over, maybe they could talk. Instead she walked away, eyes on the coffin of the man she loved more than him.

  Gardner slid the key into the ignition, ready to make his escape when all the mourners had gone in. But just before she went inside, Wallace’s daughter turned and caught his eye. The expression on her face was as though she’d seen the devil, as though he had destroyed her world. And as she walked away to say goodbye to her father, he wondered how she knew.

  Chapter 65

  17 December 2010

  Gardner watched the drunken dealmaker, Stewart Thomas, as Freeman sat down in front of him. He seemed a little disappointed with her.

  ‘What are you when you’re at home?’ Stewart asked her.

  ‘I’m DS Freeman,’ she said. ‘I’m in charge of the Emma Thorley case.’

  ‘What?’ he said.

  ‘I’m in charge,’ Freeman said, slowly.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘Why, who were you expecting? Poirot?’

  Stewart stared at her, oblivious, but Gardner was sure about one thing. The man in front of her was expecting a guy. He had the same look and hygiene as Neanderthal man, probably didn’t even realise women were allowed to vote. He looked up at Gardner, who’d chosen to stand by the door. He was interested in hearing what Stewart had to say, but it was still Freeman’s investigation so she would take the lead. Besides, he was still a bit pissed off. Not really with her. Wel
l, maybe a little. But more at McIlroy. And at himself for agreeing to come.

  ‘So,’ Freeman started. ‘You told my colleague that you knew something. About a body. Is that right?’

  Stewart ignored Freeman and kept staring at Gardner. ‘Who’re you?’ he asked. Gardner said nothing. He was trying to work out how old Stewart was. His manner made him seem young but he looked like he was heading towards fifty. Perhaps it was just the alcohol and whatever drugs it was that he’d been in possession of.

  ‘This is DI Gardner,’ Freeman told him. ‘He’s helping with the investigation.’

  After a few seconds of staring, Stewart dropped his eyes and looked at the table. ‘Yeah, I saw something,’ he said.

  ‘Where?’ Freeman asked.

  ‘Lime Court,’ Stewart said and Gardner had a spark of recognition. If he remembered rightly, Lime Court and its surrounding area were a breeding ground for trouble. The force spent half their lives around there sorting out problems and looking for suspects.

  ‘The flats on the estate?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Okay. And what did you see there?’ Freeman asked. ‘Tell me about that.’

  ‘I saw something weird. And I reckon it was a body being brought out of the flat.’

  Freeman sighed again and looked over her shoulder at Gardner. ‘You’re going to have to do better than that,’ she said.

  ‘What do you want to know?’ he asked.

  ‘Details. When was it? What did you see? Whose body was it? Who was carrying this body? Why didn’t you call the police at the time?’

  ‘I didn’t know for sure,’ he said. ‘I never heard nothing about her so I thought maybe I was imagining it.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘It was ages ago. Like ten or eleven years, I think.’

  Gardner yawned. He’d bet Freeman was rolling her eyes. Stewart had probably seen all of this on the news. ‘I can’t remember exactly when it was.’

  How convenient.

  ‘It must’ve been summer ’cause I was kicked out of the flat when our Kimberley went back to school and I had to move back in with my ex.’

  Freeman sighed and made a gesture with her hand for Stewart to get to the point.

  ‘It was late on and I was up watching telly and I heard this noise so I went and had a look. I saw someone carrying something; it looked heavy, they was struggling, but I couldn’t really see what it was. The lights outside the flats never worked proper. It was ideal for muggers and that,’ he said. ‘But I saw someone carrying this thing and then they put it down and dragged it a bit. When they got down the end a light came on and I could see a bit more and I thought fuck me that’s a dead body and then I started laughing. I remember that.’

  ‘So you thought you saw someone carrying a dead body and that made you laugh?’ Freeman said.

  ‘No, it was just ’cause it was funny,’ Stewart said and looked from Freeman to Gardner. ‘You know, I thought it was a body but I thought, nah, you’re being mental, man. It’d be mental if it actually was a body. So I just went back and watched the film I was watching. Never thought about it again. Thought maybe someone was nicking something or doing one in the night. Something like that.’

  ‘And you didn’t see who it was,’ Freeman said.

  ‘Nah, they had their face covered up and it was dark.’ He shrugged.

  ‘So what you’re telling us is that you saw what could’ve been a body being moved out of a flat eleven years ago by an unknown person.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Stewart said.

  ‘And how is that useful? How is that anything more than what we already know?’

  Stewart frowned, considering the question, but Gardner thought actually, that is something more than we already knew. Kind of. If what Stewart saw was Emma Thorley’s body being taken out of the flat, then they knew it was possible she was killed in there. Something they didn’t know before. As far as he was aware they had no idea where she’d been killed.

  ‘All right,’ Freeman said and pushed her chair back. ‘Thanks for your help.’

  ‘What about me?’ he asked. ‘Can I go?’

  Freeman shrugged. ‘You’ll have to take that up with Sergeant Rogen.’

  ‘But what about our deal? I told you what I know.’

  ‘You didn’t tell us much, though,’ she said. ‘I don’t think we can make a deal on the basis of what you gave us.’ They both stood and looked down at Stewart. ‘So unless you’ve got anything else . . .’

  He looked down; his eyes darted about as if he was trying to stir up his brain into doing some thinking. ‘Yeah, there’s something else,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Go on then,’ Freeman said.

  ‘I saw this guy go in the flat earlier on.’

  ‘This guy?’ she asked, opening her bag, pulling out the photo of Lucas Yates. She slid it across to Stewart.

  ‘Nah,’ Stewart said. ‘Not Luc—’ He stopped and swallowed, probably not wanting to admit recognising a known dealer, despite the fact he’d been brought in for possession. ‘It wasn’t him,’ he said and nodded towards the picture in Freeman’s hand. ‘It wasn’t him.’

  ‘Okay. So who was it?’

  ‘I can’t remember his name but I’d seen him about. Most people on the estate knew him. He was always kicking about. He was from the drug place. Looked like a queer.’ Freeman and Gardner looked at each other. ‘I’d seen him earlier, the same day. Before I saw the body thing. Saw him at her flat.’

  ‘Did he go in?’ Freeman asked. ‘This is important. Did he go into the flat or did he just knock at the door?’

  Stewart shook his head. ‘Nah, he definitely went in. Definitely. With some other lass. They was in there a while.’

  ‘Who was with him? Who was the girl?’ she asked, leaning on the table.

  ‘Can’t remember her name. One of the other slappers that knocked about with Lucas.’

  ‘Her?’ Freeman asked and passed him a photo of Jenny.

  ‘Nah, not Jenny. It was her flat. Well, I say her flat but she was squatting. I was a proper tenant. Council put me there. Don’t know how long she was there. A few months, probably. I saw her about sometimes. Asked her if she was interested in an exchange, you know,’ he said and mimicked oral sex. ‘For some smack.’

  ‘Hang on,’ Freeman said. ‘Jenny Taylor lived next door to you?’

  ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. When I saw the body or whatever it was I thought, well, that was bound to happen sooner or later. Right annoying bint she was. But then I never heard nothing so I reckoned I was tripping.’

  Freeman turned to Gardner, her face asking, What the fuck?

  ‘Can I go now?’ Stewart asked.

  Freeman pointed to the picture of Jenny again. ‘This is definitely the girl you lived next door to? You’re sure?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Stewart said.

  ‘And you’re sure you saw Ben Swales at her flat?’ She rummaged around and found the picture from Ben’s driving licence. ‘This guy?’

  ‘Definitely. I remember thinking I better not answer the door. He might be trying to convert me.’

  Gardner leaned over Freeman and found the photo of Emma Thorley. ‘You recognise her?’

  ‘Yeah, man. That’s her. That’s who went in the flat with the poofter.’

  Chapter 66

  17 December 2010

  Lucas slowed down to look at the street names. He had no idea where Ben’s house was and had no intention of stopping to ask someone for directions. Last thing he needed was any witnesses.

  After he’d been woken by Freeman, he realised he needed to get out of there as soon as possible. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep while Emma was getting away. But the bang on the head had obviously done some damage. His head was killing him. He’d started running towards the station as he had the previous night but stopped when he realised that Emma had probably had a head start. He needed wheels. And not only had he come across plenty of cars ripe for the picking, he’d managed to snag one
that had plenty of space in the boot, an almost full tank of petrol, and was nice and non-descript. What else could a man ask for? There’d been no alarm, older than God’s dog so it was easy to hot-wire, and despite the half a dozen people close by no one had seemed concerned about what he was doing. He was starting to like Middlesbrough.

  He finally found the street he was after and parked down a side street before locating Ben’s house. He knocked and waited. There was a car on the drive, someone had to be home. He wondered if she was there, with Ben, watching him from the window like the old days. Would either of them call the police? Unlikely. He knew what they’d done, they’d want to see the cops as much as he did.

  Lucas was about to knock again, but thought better of it and headed round the back. None of the windows looked particularly secure but if he couldn’t open them any other way, a brick would do.

  He saw a figure moving in the darkness of the kitchen, near the back door. Lucas pushed against it as Ben lunged forward, realising too late the mistake he’d made leaving the door unlocked.

  Ben tried to slam the door but Lucas was too quick, pushing it back and forcing his way in. He banged the door shut with one hand and shoved Ben against the wall with the other.

  ‘Hello, Ben,’ he said.

  ‘What do you want?’ Ben asked, not looking Lucas in the eye.

  ‘No “hello”? No “how’s it going”?’ He slammed Ben into the wall again. ‘Have it your way. Where is she?’