Stolen Children

by Michael Wood

  ‘Please do, these are funny,’ Rory smiled.

  ‘All I’m saying is that there’s no such thing as a perfect parent. We’re all just bumbling along trying to do our best to make sure our kids survive and don’t bring the police to the door.’

  ‘But why would he work so hard at making sure his family have as normal a life as possible when he’s abusing his youngest daughter?’ Scott asked, bringing the mugs to Sian’s desk.

  ‘To cover what he’s doing. We’ve all met child abusers before. They’re masters in manipulation. Just because he plays the part of a doting father doesn’t mean we should take it at face value and believe everything we’re being told.’

  ‘Has anyone told Ellen yet?’ Scott asked.

  ‘Yes. I have,’ Sian said. ‘She’s basically echoed what you’ve just said. ‘He loves all three of his children and can’t imagine him hurting them. Although …’ she paused while she thought. ‘Ellen did say that she couldn’t warm to them.’

  ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘I asked but she wouldn’t elaborate. She just said there was something strange she couldn’t put her finger on. I’ll ask the DCI to have a word with her.’

  ‘So, where do we go from here?’ Scott asked. ‘How do we break the news to the parents that their daughter was sexually abused without saying we actually suspect one of them?

  ‘We give them the facts and interview them separately,’ Sian said.

  ‘There’s a task I’m not looking forward to,’ Rory said, throwing a Bounty wrapper away and taking a Tunnock’s Tea Cake out of Sian’s drawer.

  ‘Surely there’s someone else in Keeley’s life who could have assaulted her,’ Scott said, his hands wrapped firmly around the mug. ‘There was something definitely dodgy about that teacher and his brother who seems to have vanished.’

  ‘Until we find Calvin and can question him, there’s not much we can do there. We don’t even know if they’ve ever met. Sebastian is the link between the two, but there’s no motive or anything.’

  ‘If this was a horror film, Calvin Page would turn up in the final act with his throat cut,’ Rory said.

  ‘Do you think we should try to find out who Calvin was friends with in prison? Maybe see if any of those are either out now or know anything about him his parole officer doesn’t?’ Scott suggested.

  ‘Worth a try, I suppose. I don’t think it will be difficult to find something the parole officer doesn’t know,’ Sian said. ‘According to Ranjeet, she was absolutely clueless.’

  ‘Do you ever get the feeling that the whole justice system in this country is completely arse about face?’ Scott asked.

  ‘You’re not getting disillusioned about your job are you, Scott?’ Rory asked.

  Sian’s mobile rang. She picked it up and stepped away from her desk before answering.

  ‘No, of course not. It’s just … well, the papers are full of stories about light sentences, criminals re-offending and not going back to prison, people flouting the law and our hands being tied because we’re short of money and officers, or some smarmy solicitor finding a loophole. It just pisses me off sometimes.’

  ‘I’m afraid you were wrong, Rory,’ Sian said, disconnecting her call.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘That was Christian. I think we’re a long way from the final act and Calvin Page has just turned up.’

  ‘Really? Where?’

  ‘The ski village.’

  ‘The ski village? But that burnt down ages ago. What was he doing, hiding out?’

  ‘No. Well, someone was hiding him. He’s had his head caved in.’

  Chapter 35

  The Sheffield Ski Village was opened in Parkwood Springs in 1988. The first slope proved to be so popular that within two years a further seven slopes were added making it one of the largest artificial ski villages in Europe. Ski lodges, bars and shops were added, and some slopes redesigned to enable a variety of skiing activities.

  In April 2012, the main building was destroyed by fire and the site was closed to the public. The fire was ruled to have been started accidentally. There were further fires, and by August 2016, the site had suffered from approximately fifty arson attacks.

  Since 2012, the ski village had stood derelict and been blighted by significant fly tipping, used as a gypsy traveller site, been subject to theft, vandalism, and further arson attacks.

  Matilda pulled up as close as she could to the entrance in her Range Rover. It was getting dark but she could see where she had to go by the artificial lights that had been erected around where the body had been found.

  Parkwood Springs was high up and gave wonderful panoramic views of Sheffield. Matilda shivered as a gust of cool autumnal wind blew around her.

  ‘Good evening boss,’ Rory smiled. ‘Did you ever use the ski slopes?’ he asked with a smile.

  ‘I can’t say I did, no. You?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Isn’t it supposed to be getting developed?’ She asked, looking around at the ruined site as they made their way to the crime scene.

  ‘Apparently so. I was looking online in the car on the way over. Some extreme-sports company is wanting to build on it. They’ll have their work cut out judging by the state of the place.’

  ‘Tell me about the body.’ Matilda stumbled over uneven ground and Rory caught her just in time before she fell. ‘Cheers.’

  ‘From what we can tell, it’s Calvin Page. We may need dental records though to formally identify him.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘According to Dr Kean he’s been repeatedly hit over the head with a blunt object.’

  ‘So, if we need dental records to identify him, how do we know it’s Calvin Page?’

  ‘He has a tattoo which reads “Calvin Page. Pure Sheffield Steel” on the inside of his left arm.’

  ‘Oh. That’s very considerate of him. Maybe more people should have it done in case they get brutally murdered,’ she said with a hint of a smile in her voice.

  ‘Who found him?’

  ‘Sian called them a courting couple,’ Rory smiled. ‘I don’t think they were doing much courting.’

  Against a backdrop of a stiff breeze and the uneven terrain, Matilda struggled into the white paper forensic suit. She pulled open the entrance to the tent and stepped in, squinting at the harshness of the lights.

  ‘What can you tell me, Adele?’

  Adele looked up and smiled. ‘Well, Lucy was just telling us all a delightful story about an ex-boyfriend who brought her up here for a romantic evening of outdoor sex a few years back.’

  ‘Adele! That was private,’ Lucy said. Behind the face mask, Matilda could see she was blushing.

  ‘We’re in a tent made out of paper and you’re not the quietest person in the world, Lucy. I bet the majority of the forensic team heard you.’

  ‘I heard you,’ Rory said.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Lucy turned away, embarrassed.

  ‘I thought it was hot, actually,’ he said. ‘You, Adrian Pritchard, a bottle of prosecco and a Fiat Punto I think you said.’

  There was a ripple of laughter from around the tent.

  ‘Oh, bloody hell. I knew I should have phoned in sick today,’ Lucy said.

  ‘One of these days, Lucy, I’ll buy you a drink and tell you some bizarre and eye-opening stories about Adele,’ Matilda said, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

  ‘You do and I’ll tell your team about why you and James had to cut your honeymoon short.’

  Matilda thought for a brief second. ‘Sorry Lucy, you’re on your own.’

  ‘I’d love to know why you had to cut your honeymoon short,’ Rory grinned.

  ‘Well—’

  ‘One more word out of you, Adele, and you’ll be joining Calvin Page here in the mortuary,’ Matilda interrupted.

  ‘I think we should move on, don’t you?’ Adele said.

  ‘Good idea. Back to my original question: what can you tell me, Adele?’

  Adele s
quatted next to the battered and broken body. ‘As you can see, he was savagely beaten about the head. If you look here,’ she pointed to the base of the skull. ‘You can see an indentation of a circular object, small in size. I think you’re looking for something like a hammer, maybe. The blows are random. A couple from the front to take him down, then the killer couldn’t stop. The back of the head is completely caved in.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Matilda uttered. ‘Was he killed here?’

  ‘No. If he had we’d be looking at blood spatter all over the place. This was a violent attack. The killer showed no mercy. The first couple of blows would have been enough to kill him, but this was relentless. I’ll do the PM tomorrow morning about ten o’clock.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Matilda turned to leave the tent. As she reached the exit, she stopped, turned to Lucy and said, ‘By the way, Adele was once thrown off a ride in Blackpool for having too much fun with her … what shall we call him? … companion.’

  Lucy laughed as Adele gasped.

  ‘Matilda! I told you that in strictest confidence.’

  ‘Oh sod off, it made the local paper.’

  ‘That’s so funny,’ Lucy said.

  Matilda left the tent with the sound of laughter in the background. It might seem insensitive laughing and joking at a crime scene, especially over the body of a murder victim, but Matilda, Adele, and their teams saw the worst of human behaviour on a daily basis. They came into contact with evil and depravity as regularly as the sun rose. If they took everything to heart, allowed it to weigh them down, and took the death, murder, rape, and assault home with them, they’d be raging alcoholics queuing outside a therapist’s office.

  Nobody ever made fun of a murder victim. They were always respected, no matter who they were, but, from time to time, the lightness had to break through the darkness.

  ‘Rory, give Ellen a call. I want you to find out if Craig has been at the house all day today. If so, has he made any phone calls or has anyone been round to visit?’

  ‘You think he may have done this?’

  ‘I don’t know. It seems strange that a girl is killed and then the brother of her teacher, who happens to be a child rapist, is found dead within twenty-four hours. Also, bring Sebastian Page back in for questioning too.’

  ‘Tonight?’

  ‘No. First thing in the morning. I’ve had my head bitten off about overtime spending lately. If the Chief Constable only wants to pay us for office hours, he can only expect us to work office hours too.’ She began peeling off the forensic suit. ‘Go home, Rory. Have an early night.’

  ‘I was planning on seeing Natasha, actually.’

  Matilda turned back and saw the smirk on his face. ‘Oh. Well, I’m sure you’ll still be having an early night.’

  Once behind the wheel of her Range Rover, Matilda took her phone out of her pocket. She had two missed calls from her mother, a missed call and a voicemail from Pat, a text from her sister and two texts from Daniel. She paused, not knowing who to respond to first. Her mother could definitely wait until last.

  She decided she didn’t want to see Daniel tonight. She liked Daniel a great deal and wanted him in her life, yet she didn’t want a second husband. She didn’t want a replacement for James. She enjoyed being by herself. Yes, she did get lonely occasionally, but didn’t everyone? Matilda decided that she and Daniel needed to have a succinct chat about where they were going. She wanted to be more than friends but didn’t want him moving in or leaving a toothbrush in her bathroom. Unfortunately, she wasn’t in the mood for such a conversation tonight and ran off a quick text telling him a body had been found and she’d be at the crime scene until the small hours. A little white lie was harmless.

  ***

  Ellen Devonport couldn’t wait to leave the Armitage house. She’d received a long text from Christian bringing her up to speed on the finding of Calvin Page’s body and the possibility of Craig Armitage sexually abusing his youngest daughter. She knew she should question the family more, but she had stayed well past her time and wanted to go home, sink into a hot, deep bath with a bottle of wine and fall asleep watching Fleabag on iPlayer.

  The problem, and the cause of her headache, was that her feelings towards the family were conflicted. She admired Craig and Linda for everything they did for their kids, especially Craig. He worked all hours every day for his kids, to give them the best they could afford. They had been dealt a rotten hand with Riley’s illness, now Keeley’s murder, and facing questions about sexual abuse had the potential to destroy the family completely. However, she couldn’t hide away from the fact that the majority of children murdered were killed by a parent or family member. She really wanted Craig to be innocent.

  As she was leaving, she gave Craig a hug which had lasted longer than she intended. When she stepped back, she noticed Jodie was watching them from the kitchen. She said her goodbyes and quickly left, telling them to call her anytime. She was on call twenty-four hours but hoped she wouldn’t be needed. She felt physically drained after spending a whole day in that house among the grief and despair.

  Outside the house, bunches of flowers had been arriving all day. By now, most of the front garden was awash with colour. Ellen glanced at them; the waft of various scents tickled her nostrils. The local florists would be having a bumper month.

  She pulled the collar up on her coat and put her head down. She tried not to make eye contact with any of the journalists parked up on the pavement.

  After the storm last night, there was a distinct coolness to the air. A stiff breeze was blowing, and the sky was darkening with a swirl of angry clouds over Sheffield. She lifted the collar on her thin jacket and headed for her car.

  ‘Excuse me? Hello? Can I have a word?’

  Ellen looked up and saw a woman trotting towards her. She was in her late fifties and wearing black trousers, a white jumper and a cream coloured cardigan which she held in place with her arms firmly crossed over her chest.

  ‘Are you with the police?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I was wondering if I could have a quick word with you.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘The thing is,’ she said, looking around her. ‘I want to do this anonymously. It’s been weighing on my mind for a long time, and, well, since Keeley went missing, I suppose it’s brought it back.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t—’

  ‘No. I’m waffling, aren’t I?’ the woman interrupted. She was shorter than Ellen. Her dull blue eyes were starry and flittered from side to side. ‘It’s just … I really don’t know how to say this.’

  ‘If you think you have information about this case, or any case, you have a duty to report it, no matter how difficult it may seem.’

  ‘I’m aware of all that. Oh God, this is hard,’ she licked her lips and swallowed hard a few times. ‘If I tell you something, will you promise that my name won’t come up?’

  ‘Well, as you haven’t told me your name, it won’t be able to come up.’ Ellen smiled. She looked over the woman’s shoulder and saw the front door of a house three doors down from the Armitage family was open. It wouldn’t be difficult to find out her name.

  ‘That’s true. Good. Well, I think you need to be looking closer at the family. I’ve read the story in the local paper tonight about how loving and caring they are. The thing is, people are always made out to be saints when they’re involved in a tragedy, aren’t they? The Armitages, they’re not all they’re cracked up to be.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Look into Riley’s illness. Find out how he came to be brain damaged.’

  ‘We know about his seizures.’

  ‘But what caused his seizures?’

  ‘He has epilepsy.’

  ‘Does he?’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘You can get access to medical records. Talk to his GP. Who witnessed his seizures? I’m not telling you how I know this as I’ll get them into trouble and I swore I’d never repeat w
hat I heard, but with Keeley dying, I can’t keep quiet, and this isn’t me being a gossip, this is me being concerned for the people in that house. Find out who witnessed Riley’s seizures.’ She turned and walked away.

  ‘Wait,’ Ellen called out.

  The woman didn’t wait. She took long strides back to her home and slammed the front door behind her.

  Ellen remained standing in the middle of Acorn Drive with the wind whipping up around her. She looked to the Armitage house. What the hell was happening with this family?

  Chapter 36

  With another murder and the prospect of interviewing Linda and Craig tomorrow about their daughter being sexually abused, Matilda had hoped for a night to herself. She was going to open a bottle of wine, read the transcript of the interview with the supposed Carl Meagan in France, and then have an early night with a good thriller.

  The house soon warmed up once the wood burner was lit, and while the microwave was heating up a bowl of soup she changed into comfortable pyjama bottoms and an old sweater. She could smell the chicken and vegetable soup as she came down the stairs and her grumbling stomach told her just how hungry she was.

  With her bowl of steaming soup, a couple of crusty breadcakes and the emailed transcript of the interview, she settled on the sofa and began reading.

  Transcription of the interview between Detective Patrick Platini (PP) and Detective Eric Desailly (ED) with “Carl Meagan” (CM). From child protection, Detective Suzanne Beltrame (SB), acted as appropriate adult.

  Detective Patrick Platini: Can you tell us what you’re doing here in France?

  Carl Meagan: I’m on holiday.

  PP: Alone?

  CM: No.

  PP: Who are you with?’

  CM: I’m supposed to call them my mum and dad.

  PP: What are their names?

  CM: I don’t know. They only speak English when they talk to me. When they talk to each other they speak in a different language.

  PP: What language do they speak in?

  CM: I don’t know.