by Michael Wood
‘Does Matilda know?’
‘No,’ she said. ‘Her phone is going straight to voicemail. I’ve left a couple of messages.’
‘Where is she?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘So, what’s happening now?’ Valerie asked.
‘Adrian is liaising with Police Nationale. They’re going to send through photographs of this boy, and they’ve taken a blood and hair sample from him so we can check the DNA we have on record for Carl Meagan to make sure it is him.’
‘Ok. In the meantime, this stays between us. We tell Matilda, and that’s it until we have proof. Clear?’
‘Perfectly,’ Sian said.
***
It wasn’t possible for Matilda to go off grid. She was never able to leave work behind. It was with her every waking moment of the day, and depending on the case she was investigating, it occupied a great deal of her sleeping time too. As they headed away from Stannington they had to pass the secondary school. She slammed on the brakes.
‘It seems pointless to go for a bite to eat then come back. We may as well pop in for a chat now,’ she said with a smile.
‘How convenient,’ Scott rolled his eyes.
Matilda and Scott held up their identification to a camera at the gates and then again at the main entrance. When they were buzzed in, they were greeted by the head teacher, Alan Fitzgerald, an incredibly tall and wafer-thin man with large ears, who bore a striking resemblance to the BFG.
Chris met them in the corridor. His smile was large and spread across his face. He wore tight black trousers and a fitted white shirt, open at the neck. He took them to the staffroom where Ruth was making coffee for them all.
Chris Kean was the son of Matilda’s best friend, Adele. She had known Chris since he was a toddler, and often brought up stories of changing his nappy when the urge to embarrass him was too great to ignore. He was tall, sporty, and very handsome. His once unruly mop of curly hair had been shorn to a stylish dark blond buzz cut. He was clean-shaven and carried himself with an air of confidence. His colleague, Ruth Harrison, was a complete contrast. She was in her late thirties and looked every inch the defeated woman. Her brown hair was straight and lifeless. Her skin was dry and had patches of acne. She looked tired, drawn, and sad.
‘Ruth, this is DCI Matilda Darke. And, you’ve met Scott, haven’t you?’
‘Yes I have,’ she smiled, but it seemed painful. ‘Nice to meet you both.’
Pleasantries over, and coffee made, they all sat around a low round table by the window, looking out over the school’s playing field.
‘Chris says you know Sebastian Page from Mary Croft,’ Matilda said. She took a sip of her coffee and tried not to show how bad it tasted.
‘Bloody awful, isn’t it?’ Ruth said. ‘Yes, I do. Well, I did. I worked at Mary Croft for two years. I left last summer to come here.’
‘Why did you leave?’
‘It was nothing to do with Sebastian. I just can’t stand kids that young.’ Again, she proffered a smile, but it was false, as if she’d forgotten how to smile and was uncomfortable with doing it.
‘Tell me about Sebastian.’
‘I liked him … at first. He’s a good teacher; it’s just, he has a very quick temper.’
‘In what way?’
‘Not with the kids or anything,’ Ruth quickly added. ‘I remember once, he used to always come to school on his bike, and he was going home when he saw he had a puncture in one of the tyres. Well, he really flew off the handle, blaming the kids for sabotaging it and how he was going to have to walk and it was raining. He went way over the top.’
‘Maybe he’d had a bad day?’ Scott offered.
‘No. He was like that with everything. If there was no milk left in the fridge for his coffee, he’d moan about how it was always when he wanted a drink that there was no milk left and never anyone else, like the world was out to get him. He’d get quite volatile.’
‘Was he ever violent?’ Matilda asked.
‘I never saw any signs of it, but I wouldn’t be surprised. He asked me out once. I said no as I’m married. Well, I’m separated, but, well, it’s complicated. Anyway, I turned him down. He’s not my type anyway, but he asked me why. You don’t ask that, do you?’
‘What did you say?’
‘I just told him that I was recently separated and wasn’t looking for anyone yet.’
‘How did he take it?’
‘He said fine, but, a couple of times when I was out, just the local pub with friends, you know, he’d be there. He’d make it seem like it was a coincidence, but I knew he’d followed me there.’
‘How did you know?’
‘Just a feeling. I always felt like he was watching me out of the corner of his eye. He creeped me out.’
‘Did you say anything to him?’
‘No.’
‘To anyone else?’
‘No. This job came up and I was happy to leave. I wasn’t in a good place when I worked there. This was a fresh start for me.’
‘What about you, Chris?’ Matilda asked. ‘When you worked at Mary Croft, did you notice anything strange about him?’
‘You mean apart from his casual racism, homophobia, transphobia and anti-Semitism?’
‘Really?’
‘We had these parents come into the school and said their son wanted to be a girl and asked for the school’s policy on allowing him to wear a dress to school. Well, you should have heard him on the subject. He was saying the child should be taken into care because the parents were forcing their ideas onto him and what kind of six-year-old knows they’re in the wrong body. Then we had a Polish family move into the area. The two kids came to the school, but they didn’t speak much English. It was embarrassing the way he kicked off.’
‘Were complaints made about him?’ Scott asked.
‘Only by the other teachers to the head. The thing is, like Ruth said, he’s good at his job. He makes his lessons fun for the kids, which is what they like, and he never showed any of this side to the parents. He’s a real Jekyll and Hyde character.’
‘Why are you asking about him?’ Ruth asked, a painful looking frown on her forehead. ‘Is it to do with this girl going missing?’
‘His name has come up in our enquiries,’ Matilda said. ‘Do you know the Armitage family?’
‘I know Jodie. I take her for maths.’
‘How is she?’
‘Quiet. Intelligent. A bit of a loner. I never see her with any friends. I know she has to do a lot at home with her brother like he is.’
‘Chris, do you teach Jodie?’
‘Yes, for English. I’d echo what Ruth said.’
‘What I’m going to say now is in the strictest confidence,’ Matilda began, leaning forward. She caught a whiff of the horrible tasting coffee so sat back. ‘If I told you a complaint had been made about Sebastian Page possibly touching a pupil, inappropriately, would you be surprised?’
‘Not in the slightest,’ Ruth said instantly.
All eyes turned to Chris.
He thought for a moment. ‘I don’t like to say it, but I don’t think I’d be surprised either.’
***
‘We need to find him,’ Matilda said, taking large strides back to the car. ‘Where does he live again?’ She fished in her pocket for the piece of paper with his address on it. ‘Pitsmoor. I’ll get a uniform to go round and pick him up. We’ll get a search warrant for his house too.’ She took her phone out of her inside jacket pocket. ‘Bloody battery’s gone. Scott, can I borrow your phone.’
‘Sure,’ he took it out and looked at the screen. ‘Oh.’
‘Something wrong?’
‘I’ve had a few missed calls and about a dozen texts from Sian.’
‘I didn’t hear it ring.’
‘No. I always have it on silent and the vibration thing stopped working. I’m due to upgrade next month so didn’t think it was worth getting fixed.’
He quickly scanned the texts then
listened to the voicemails. ‘They’re asking if I know where you are. Sian says something’s come up and you’re needed straight away back at the station.’
Matilda looked at her watch. ‘I haven’t got time to go back there and get back here for four o’clock. Give her a ring, ask her what she wants.’
She got in the car behind the steering wheel and started the engine. ‘Ruth Harrison looked like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders,’ she commented while Scott waited for the call to connect.
‘Problems with her ex. He won’t leave her alone, apparently. Chris was asking the other night about how she goes about taking out an injunction against him.’
‘That bad?’
‘Must be.’
‘Men! I don’t know why people are so interested in having a partner. Life is much simpler with a box of Maltesers and a good book.’
Scott was about to reply when his call was answered. ‘It’s me. You’ve called several times. Anything wrong? … Yes, she’s here. Do you want to speak to her?’ He handed the phone to Matilda.
She listened for a while. Her face paled. Her eyes widened. She ended the call without saying anything.
‘What’s the matter? Has something happened? Has Keeley been found?’
‘No, but it sounds like Carl Meagan has.’
Matilda turned to look at Scott with a look of genuine happiness on her face.
Chapter 17
Ellen Devonport entered Riley’s bedroom with a mug of tea in her hand. Linda had been out of bed for less than half an hour and she was busy with a cordless vacuum cleaner. She’d woken just after lunch time and felt drained, tired, and sick. A quick shower hadn’t helped. There was so much she had to do.
‘I’ve made you a cup of tea,’ Ellen said.
Linda jumped, not realising there was anybody in the room with her. She turned around. ‘I bet you spend a great deal of your time making tea,’ she said, putting the vacuum cleaner down and taking the mug.
‘It’s part of the training course,’ she said with a smile. ‘How do you feel?’
She thought for a moment, both hands wrapped protectively around the mug. ‘Numb. I want to cry but I don’t think I have any tears left.’
‘I know it doesn’t sound like much, but we really are doing everything we can to find Keeley.’
‘I feel sick for going to see Sally Meagan like that. Do you think I should apologise?’
‘I’m sure she understands what you’re going through.’
‘Will you apologise for me?’
‘I’ll mention it to DCI Darke.’
‘I was horrible to her as well. I bet you all think I’m a complete cow.’
‘Not at all.’
Linda began tidying the room, putting toys away and folding up clothes. ‘Do you have kids?’
‘No.’
‘When you have children, you want to do everything to protect them from what’s happening in the world. You do your best, but you can’t wrap them in cotton wool forever.’
‘I think you’ve done a wonderful job with Jodie and Keeley. They’re model children. And Riley,’ Ellen turned to look at Riley in his bed. He was sitting up in the corner wearing his protective helmet so he wouldn’t bang his head against the bars. He was playing with a book made out of fabric, each page making a crinkling sound as he scrunched it up. ‘Well, he’s just lovely,’ she smiled.
‘I love him to pieces,’ Linda said quietly. ‘I blame myself for the way he is.’
‘Why?’
‘When I discovered I was pregnant, I was shocked. I didn’t want a third child; two was enough. It took me a long time to get used to the idea of three kids. When he was diagnosed with epilepsy, I blamed myself. It was my fault he was ill because I had thought such horrible things.’ Her voice began to crack.
‘That’s rubbish, Linda. You can’t manufacture an illness.’
‘The night he had the big seizure that caused him to stop breathing was the first night since he’d been born that I’d had a drink. Well, I’d had a few drinks actually. I woke up to go to the toilet; I’ve no idea what made me go and look in on him. He was so still. I thought he was dead.’ She put the mug down on the windowsill and went over to the bed. Riley looked up and held his arms out to her. She reached down and heaved him up. ‘He’s suffered for what I’ve done. I’m a bad mother.’
Ellen was on the brink of tears. ‘You’re not, Linda.’
‘And now Keeley’s been taken. They’re being punished because of me.’ She cried and held Riley close.
Ellen leaned out of the bedroom and called for Jodie. She appeared almost instantly. Ellen asked her to take Riley which she did without question. Ellen took Linda and led her into the kitchen where she sat her down at the table.
‘Linda, none of this is your fault. You love your children and you’re doing the best for them. You and Craig are wonderful parents. You’re not to blame. What happened to Riley is just … well, it’s nature. There’s nothing we can do about that. However, we can do a great deal for Keeley, and we will.’
Linda reached for the kitchen roll on the unit behind her, tore off a few pieces and wiped her eyes and blew her nose.
‘If I ask you a question, will you tell me the truth?’
‘Of course I will.’
‘What is the likelihood of you finding Keeley?’
‘I don’t know percentages, but I can tell you every police officer in Sheffield is working on this.’
‘But you don’t know where she is or who’s got her?’
‘Not right now we don’t, but we’re talking to so many people who know her or who were in the area at the time she disappeared. In this day and age, with all this technology, somebody will have seen something.’
‘I don’t know what I’d do without her. She’s always smiling. She always cheers me up when I’m feeling a bit low.’
‘Linda, can I ask you a few questions about the call from the kidnapper?’
‘Ok.’
‘What was their voice like? Was it male or female?’
Linda sniffled and wiped her nose as she thought. ‘I’m not sure. He didn’t say much.’
‘Are you certain it was a man you spoke to?’
‘I think so,’ she frowned.
‘What about any accent? Did he sound local?’
‘No. It was sort of … flat, monotone.’
Ellen thought for a moment. ‘Did he seem anxious or scared?’
‘No. He was very calm, neutral, almost like …’
‘Go on.’
‘Like it was a recording.’
‘A recording?’
‘Yes, as if, the words had been typed into something and a computer was reading it out. Like, if you ask Siri a question and it gives you a reply, it was like that, but not.’
‘Would you say it was like the caller was speaking through a voice changer?’
‘Yes,’ she said, animatedly. ‘I’d say exactly that.’
‘Right.’ Ellen took a notebook out of her pocket and made a note.
‘Is that helpful?’
‘Yes. I think it might be.’
‘Why would the kidnapper do that, though? It’s not like calls are recorded, is it?’
‘No.’
‘So why go to all that bother?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe they thought you might recognise them.’
‘Do you think it’s someone we know?’
Ellen hesitated. She took a deep breath before answering. ‘Personally? Yes, I do.’
***
Matilda was sitting in front of Valerie’s desk while she explained the scant details from the British Embassy in Paris. Matilda looked drawn. Every time she thought of Carl, she thought of the nightmare she had lived through at the time with her husband dying. All the dark memories came flooding back and she realised how much she missed him. If Carl could be found, maybe she would finally be able to close a door on that whole period and move on.
‘I’m afraid the French
police don’t seem to see this case as urgently as we do,’ Valerie said. ‘You’d think a simple task of emailing a photograph over wouldn’t take long, but I’m still waiting.’
‘What do we know of the people who took him?’
‘Nothing.’
‘How can that be?’
‘Police Nationale in Marseille are dealing with it. I’ve no idea if any arrests have been made or who they’re talking to.’
‘Bloody hell! Where is this boy now?’
‘He’s in police protection but I don’t know where.’
‘How long is all this going to take?’ Matilda asked, getting flustered.
Valerie shrugged. ‘Matilda, are you all right?’
‘I’m fine.’ Liar.
‘Would you like to take the rest of the day off?’
Matilda frowned. ‘How is that even possible with a kidnapped girl on our hands?’
‘Christian can take over.’
‘No,’ she took a deep breath and composed herself. ‘Look, if this boy is Carl, then that’s amazing. It’s the best news in the world. Why should I want to take time off? We can’t do anything until it’s confirmed.’ She looked at her watch. ‘Shit. I should be getting back to Stannington.’
‘How are the family doing?’ Valerie said, standing up.
‘Not good.’ Matilda headed for the door. She turned back to look at her boss. ‘Will you call me the minute you hear anything from France, or when they send you the photo?’
‘I will.’
‘Any news on Arthur?’
‘No change,’ she said, looking down.
‘We seem to spend most of our lives waiting around for things to happen, don’t we? We’re not as in control of things as we’d like to believe.’
‘You can say that again. Go on, get back to Stannington,’ she said, rushing her out of the office.
Valerie turned her back on Matilda and looked out of the window.
Matilda stood in the hallway, her back pressed firmly against Valerie’s closed door. She felt a prickle of heat creep up her back and her vision began to blur. She looked ahead and the corridor appeared to be closing in. It seemed like her panic attacks were returning.