by Michael Wood
She looked up to find the whole room staring at her, waiting to hear what she was going to say next.
‘Right then,’ she clapped her hands together. ‘You’ve all got things to be going on with. Christian will give you your tasks. Get out there and find Carl—’ Then, ‘Fuck,’ she muttered under her breath.
‘Come on everyone, away from your desks. This is a police station, not a call centre,’ Christian said, covering his boss’s error. ‘I don’t want to see any of you in here until the evening briefing.
Matilda turned away from the room and headed for her makeshift office. She closed the door behind her and pulled the blind closed.
Her small office was a mess, as always. Every available surface was cluttered with files and paperwork; open cases, closed cases, cold cases, any information relating to a missing person somewhere in the world who bore a striking resemblance to how Carl would look now.
She slumped in her leather chair and pulled open the top drawer of her desk. A fragile envelope, coming apart at the seams from permanently being opened, sat on top of a notepad. She lifted it up carefully, opened it and pulled out the five photographs from inside. They were all of Carl with his family; playing in the back garden, on his father’s shoulders at the beach, opening presents on Christmas morning, playing with the puppy in the park, snuggling with the same dog in bed. In each picture, he was smiling, he was happy, he was content.
‘Where the bloody hell are you, Carl?’ She asked as tears began to form.
Chapter 11
The sound of hammering drew Ellen into the living room. The coffee table had been moved to one side and the carpet pulled away from around the window. Craig was on his hands and knees thwacking a hammer down onto the exposed floorboards.
‘Craig!’ She called out over the din. ‘What are you doing?’
He turned around to face her. His face was expressionless. ‘I hate not having anything to do. I can’t just sit around here waiting for the phone to ring at four o’clock. I thought I’d do a few jobs I’ve been putting off.’
‘I think maybe you should leave that for a while, at least until Linda gets up. I’ve made a fresh pot of coffee.’
‘If I drink any more coffee, I’ll be bouncing off the walls.’
‘It’s better than tearing up the living room,’ she smiled.
He smiled back. His face seemed to light up for a brief moment.
In the kitchen, Ellen poured them both a coffee from the cafetière. They sat at the heavily scratched pine table.
‘I like the garden,’ she said, looking out of the window. It had been designed with wide walkways for Riley’s wheelchair to go down, raised patches of grass for him to sit on without too much trouble getting out of his chair.
‘Thanks. I did most of it myself. It took me ages.’ He added a splash of milk to his strong coffee and poured in three heaped spoonfuls of sugar. ‘Riley loves it. He enjoys the fresh air.’
Ellen cleared her throat. ‘Tell me about Keeley. What sort of a child is she?’
‘She’s a good child,’ he replied without giving the question any thought. ‘She’s never given us any worry. She dotes on Riley and I think she listens to Jodie more than she does me and her mum,’ he laughed nervously.
‘How’s school? Does she have any favourite lessons?’
‘Maths. She’s good at it, too. I don’t know where she gets it from. I’m useless with numbers. She got a certificate last year for one hundred per cent attendance. She loves school.’
‘Any best friends?’
He frowned as he thought. He took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know. I think Jodie would be your best bet to answer that one.’
‘What does she like doing out of school?’
‘She’s a big Disney fan. She’s got all the DVDs. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve sat through Frozen. She enjoys drawing too. She’s always drawing pictures of clothes, especially dresses. She designs dresses for Elsa to wear. She even drew a wedding dress once. She said it was going to be the one she’d wear when she was old enough to get married.’
‘Does Keeley think about things like that? Getting married?’
‘No. I think it’s the whole Disney princess thing? I expect she’s waiting for Prince Charming to ride up on a white horse and whisk her off to his castle.’ He smiled.
‘Craig, if someone acted the Prince Charming to Keeley, a stranger, is she the type of girl to go off with them?’
He paled instantly as if all the blood had been drained out of him. ‘You mean, grooming her?’
Ellen nodded. ‘It’s not easy to hear, I know, but I’m afraid I have to ask these questions.’
‘To be honest, I’ve no idea. When we bought her the tablet, we told her all about not talking to people she didn’t know. We go through it from time to time and it’s got all those protection locks on it, but these people are sneaky fuckers, aren’t they? I like to think she’s sensible, but at the end of the day she’s only nine. If somebody told her they had a castle and horses, I think she may fall for it.’
‘I’m sorry, I had to ask,’ she leaned forward and placed her warm hand on his.
‘That’s ok. You need to know these things. If some sick bastard has laid one finger on her, though, I swear to God, I’ll rip him apart.’
‘She wouldn’t.’
They both jumped at Jodie talking from the doorway. Ellen quickly removed her hand from Craig’s.
‘Sorry?’ Ellen asked.
‘What you said, about Keeley falling for someone who said they had a castle and horses, she wouldn’t. I’ve told her all about the internet. I’ve explained, in detail, what people are like on there. Whenever anybody new starts chatting to her on Snapchat, she tells me, and I sit with her, and watch the conversation play out. She’s a good girl. She wouldn’t go off with a complete stranger.’
‘You seem very confident about that.’
‘When I started picking her up all the time from school, we came up with a safe word that only me and her knew so if I had to arrange for someone else to collect her, I’d give them that word and she’d know it was ok to go with them. I never had a reason to use it.’
‘I didn’t know that,’ Craig said.
‘That’s very sensible of you, Jodie,’ Ellen smiled.
Jodie went over to the fridge, took out a can of Coke and pulled out the chair at the top of the table. She swiped a speck of fluff from her father’s jumper, closed a magazine left open, and sat down.
‘We’ve had lessons in school about strangers approaching you online and how predators try to groom you. I wanted to make sure Keeley was safe without frightening her.’
‘Would Keeley go off with someone she knew if they turned up at the school, without seemingly needing a safe word?’ Ellen asked.
Jodie’s bottom lip began to wobble. ‘I can’t protect her all the time,’ she cried. ‘I’ve warned her against strangers, but how do you warn someone against people they’re supposed to trust?’
‘Like who?’ Ellen asked.
‘I think we should leave it there,’ Craig said. He leaped from his seat and went over to his daughter. He held her firmly in his arms, pulling her tightly to his chest, and stroked her hair as she cried loudly.
‘Jodie, is there someone …?’
‘Please. Can we leave it for now?’ Craig demanded.
‘Of course. I’ll just …’
Ellen left the room and closed the door on Jodie’s cries and Craig making reassuring noises.
She stood in the hallway and ran her fingers through her greasy hair. She looked into the living room and saw Riley strapped into his highchair. He looked back at her with a vacant stare. She went in and picked up the small penguin he’d been playing with that had dropped on the floor. She handed it back to him.
‘Here you go, sweetheart.’ Over her shoulder, she saw an episode of Pingu playing on TV. The sound had been muted. She looked back at Riley. He was smiling. ‘What happened here last night, Ril
ey?’ She asked him quietly.
Chapter 12
Matilda knocked on ACC Masterson’s door and waited for Valerie to tell her to come in. It was a long wait.
‘Come in.’
Matilda pushed opened the door and carefully entered, closing it behind her.
Valerie wasn’t behind her desk, as usual, buried under a mountain of paperwork and reports. In fact, her desk was relatively tidy. The ACC was standing by the window, her back to the room, gazing out at the sprawling view of Sheffield in autumn. Beyond the double glazing, new buildings were rising as Sheffield continued to go through its seemingly endless regeneration process. The high street was facing the same hardship as others up and down the country. People didn’t seem to want to shop on the street anymore, preferring to do it online. Shops were closing, footfall was easing, and city centres were turning into ghost towns. Sheffield seemed to have the solution. A new cinema had recently opened, and a bowling alley and pool hall were scheduled to open sometime next year. New restaurants and coffee shops were popping up, and, thanks to the new HSBC headquarters opening next summer, the city centre would hopefully start to see people return, if not to shop, then to be entertained.
Valerie’s eyeline followed a crane as it turned, carrying a heavy slap of concrete high up above the streets of the city centre.
‘Do you think Sheffield needs any more hotels?’ She asked, not turning around.
‘I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought,’ Matilda said, stepping further into the room.
‘Apparently there’s going to be one where the old market was and there’s talk of an Ibis at the bottom of the Moor, right next to the Premier Inn. Who knew Sheffield was in such high demand.’
‘It’s not exactly a holiday destination,’ Matilda sniggered.
‘No.’
‘Is everything all right?’
Valerie turned from the window. She looked smart in her crisp uniform. Her grey hair was swept back. She was a small woman, barely over five feet tall, but her personality was titanic, as was her reputation as a powerful leader. However, recent events had taken their toll. Her face was heavily lined and there was an air of sadness about her which filled the room.
‘Fine,’ she quickly replied, taking her seat behind the enormous desk.
‘How’s Arthur? Any news?’
Valerie visibly sank in her seat. Her head bent down to her chest. She sniffled. She wiped away a tear before looking up.
‘Not good,’ she managed to say, her voice cracking. ‘He’s regained consciousness, but …’ She shrugged. She couldn’t speak.
Matilda sat down in front of her desk. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
‘You could make him remember who I am.’
‘He doesn’t remember you?’
She shook her head as the tears fell. Matilda ran around the desk to comfort her boss.
Earlier this year, Valerie had been all smiles and full of plans as she and her husband, Arthur, a retired dentist, were charting their route through Europe in a motorhome. Valerie was taking early retirement and they were going on the trip of a lifetime. A month ago, their plans had been thrown into chaos when Arthur suffered a massive stroke. He was unconscious and in intensive care for three weeks. Valerie had taken a few days off work but wallowing alone in their large house in Derbyshire made her feel worse, so she made a quick return to work, one eye permanently on her phone, waiting for the call from the hospital.
‘He’s lost all feeling down his left-hand side. He’s lost his speech, he can’t feed himself, or dress himself. He doesn’t recognise me, or the children. It’s like talking to a complete stranger who just happens to look like Arthur.’
Matilda plucked a few tissues from the box on the desk and handed them to Valerie for her to wipe her eyes and nose.
‘What are you going to do?’
‘I’ve no idea.’ She blew her nose loudly. ‘What can I do? It could take years for him to get any form of movement back. He may not even get his memory back. All our plans, all our dreams, everything we’ve both worked for, ruined.’
Matilda didn’t know what to say. She hoped that wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders would help her to open up. When she was grieving for James, she had her best friend, Adele, to talk to, and crying and screaming at the world really did help.
‘He’d hate this,’ Valerie continued. ‘We always talked about what we’d be like as old people. I’d laugh and joke about us causing havoc in a nursing home, but to Arthur, it wasn’t a joke. He hated the idea of growing old, of not being able to do the things he’s always been able to do. That’s what this trip was all about; visiting all the places we’ve only seen on TV before it’s too late. Now look at him.
‘You know, I sit in the hospital room and I watch him. He looks so sad. He’s got tears in his eyes and I know that he’ll be screaming inside, screaming at me to help him, to do something so he’s not feeling like this. It’s so unfair, Matilda.’
It really was unfair, and Matilda knew exactly how she felt. James was only forty-five when he died. A brilliant man at the top of his field, handsome, caring, loving, and he was taken from her.
‘You need to be strong for him,’ Matilda eventually said. ‘Physiotherapists can help with his speech and movement, but you, and your kids, need to help with his memory. You’ve been married for such a long time, you’ll have thousands of stories and photos to show him, to help him unlock the door to help him remember. It’ll be hard, I know it will, but you can relive everything together again. His will to get better will be strong; you have to match that strength.’
‘You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just …’
‘When you feel low, when you need to scream and shout and cry, come and visit me. I’ve got a huge garden you can stand in the middle of and scream and nobody will hear you. You helped me when James died. Please, don’t go through this on your own.’
Valerie placed a clammy hand on top of Matilda’s. ‘Thank you. You’re a good friend, Matilda. Now,’ she wiped her eyes. ‘We’ve got a kidnapping on our hands, I hear.’
‘Yes. A nine-year-old girl. Keeley Armitage.’
‘Any clue as to who might have taken her?’
‘Not so far. I’ve got an FLO at the house. I’m going to see her in a bit.’ She stood up and went around to the other side of the desk. ‘The kidnappers said they’d call back in twenty-four hours. That’s around four o’clock this afternoon. We’ve no idea if they’re watching the house or not so we can’t go knocking on doors. We’re just having to wait.’
‘I’ve been told it’s all over social media.’
‘Yes. The eldest daughter, Jodie, put something on Twitter last night. I’m guessing she thought she was helping.’
‘And I see our favourite journalist has reared his ugly head again,’ she turned the open laptop around to face Matilda. The screen was showing the home page of the local newspaper, the Sheffield Star, and a brief breaking news story written by Danny Hanson.
‘Ah,’ was all Matilda could think of saying after she read the short article.
‘I knew he’d bring up the Carl Meagan case at the mention of a kidnapping,’ Valerie said. ‘Are you thinking … you know … similarities with Carl?’
‘I’m trying not to.’
‘I can assign someone else to this case if you’d rather not get involved. Nobody would think badly of you for taking a step back.’
I’d think badly of me.
‘That’s fine, thank you, but I can do this. A year ago, probably not, but I’m stronger now.’
Valerie smiled. ‘Yes. You are, aren’t you? I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you.’
‘Tell me what?’ Matilda frowned.
‘There’s a restructuring process planned for South Yorkshire Police to begin late next year. I’ve been asked to recommend officers who I believe would be suited for more demanding roles. I already see Christian Brady as a future DCI and Sian Mills should have be
en an inspector years ago. Have you considered being Superintendent Matilda Darke?’
Chapter 13
Matilda had never considered being a superintendent. She loved her role as detective chief inspector and enjoyed being in charge of a major crime unit. Valerie had chastised her on more than one occasion for going out to attend interviews and crime scenes when she should be behind a desk supervising and coordinating. Becoming a rank higher would mean an end to all of that. She couldn’t imagine the rest of her career being trapped behind a desk. The very thought of it made her shudder. However, if she was reluctant to move up, that would be blocking Christian and Sian in achieving bigger and better things. This would require some thought.
On her way out of the station, she sent a text to Adele asking if she was free to come round for a meal tonight. She received a reply almost straight away saying she was. Matilda’s text back told her it was her turn to pay for the takeaway and she voted for Chinese. The sarcastic gif she received as a reply made her laugh out loud.
***
Detective Constable Ellen Devonport answered the door and let Matilda in.
‘How’s it going?’ Matilda asked in a whisper while they were in the hallway.
Ellen shook her head. ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘Linda only snuck out of the house earlier and went to see Sally Meagan and asked her for the ransom money.’
Matilda’s face hardened in anger. ‘What? What happened?’
‘She didn’t give it to her. She’s been crying non-stop since she got up. Craig managed to get it out of her and when he did, well, you should have seen him. He had a right go at her. I thought he was going to hit her at one point.’