Missing Believed Dead

by Chris Longmuir

  ‘I’ll order more gloves,’ Marlene said, standing up.

  ‘I still have the gloves you ordered last time.’ Diane bent over and mopped the floor. ‘I prefer to work without them.’

  Marlene shrugged and walked away. ‘Well, if you need anything, just ask.’

  The floor was spotless but Diane continued to scrub, and the tears continued to flow. Maybe by the time she finished she would be all cried out and she could return to Emma and Ryan with the false smile on her face. The smile that said, ‘Look I’ve recovered. I’m fine now.’

  * * * *

  Ryan Carnegie stood up and stretched, flexing his legs so they wouldn’t cramp. He was past his twentieth birthday and small for a man, barely five feet two, slim and gangly, appearing to be all arms and legs. His dark brown hair was tied back in a ponytail, but sometimes he let it hang in loose waves that brushed his shoulders. The stud in his left ear glittered like a diamond, although it was only a cubic zircona.

  He walked to the window and parted the curtains to look out. It was a miserable day, tree branches whipped in the wind and the overcast sky gave the impression it was about to rain, or maybe snow. In Dundee it wasn’t unknown for there to be snow showers in March, and it was cold enough for it.

  The computer monitor blinked away at the other side of the room, reminding him he should be working. Sighing, he returned to his chair and started to key in the last of the code for Tony Palmer’s website for his night club, Teasers. It was where his mother worked as a cleaner, and his sister, Emma, was a part-time barmaid. That was probably the reason Tony had asked him to do the website. Ryan was starting to wish he hadn’t, and that he’d never come into contact with Tony. Everyone said the man was a gangster and Ryan had no reason to disbelieve this. It made him uncomfortable though.

  This was the second set of mock-up web pages he had completed for Tony. He was still smarting from the man’s reaction to the first lot, and hoped this would suit better.

  ‘That the best you can do?’ Tony had snapped. ‘I should have got a professional company to do it.’

  ‘Just because I work from home doesn’t mean I’m not professional,’ he’d retorted.

  Tony glared at him, and Ryan knew it had been a mistake to answer back. Damn, what had possessed him to agree to put up a web site for this man. He had more than enough clients on his books and didn’t need the extra work. But Tony had a reputation and was not someone you could safely say no to.

  He rose from the chair, stretched and wandered downstairs to the kitchen. Mum was at work and Emma had lectures today, it would be hours before they came back, and he was restless.

  Holding the kettle under the tap, he filled it and switched it on. But he didn’t really want tea or coffee.

  Turning his back on the hissing kettle he walked upstairs to Emma’s bedroom, the one she had shared with Jade, and quietly let himself in. He could feel the spirit of Jade in here. It was where he felt closest to her. If he closed his eyes he could see her, sitting in the corner at her computer. ‘Come here,’ she’d demand. ‘Come and help me think of something smart to say to this geek.’

  ‘You shouldn’t be talking to anyone on the computer,’ he’d say. ‘It could be a weirdo.’

  Her laughter was as fresh in his mind as if she were sitting there. ‘I’m not daft. I’m just stringing him along, having a bit of fun with him.’

  Jade’s side of the room had not changed. Her computer, an antique beige monstrosity, sat on the corner desk at the other side of her bed – the bed that was still there, waiting for her return. But she would never return. She was dead, he was sure of it. He blinked hard.

  ‘I wish you’d listened to me,’ he whispered. ‘I miss you.’

  Walking over to the bed, he fingered the tiny teddy bears pinned to her headboard. She had collected them and he could remember her excitement when she found one she did not already have. ‘Buy it for me,’ she’d say, and he always would, even though he didn’t get much more pocket money than she did. It was worth it to see the expression on her face and watch her jumping up and down with excitement.

  Unclipping one, he held it to his cheek. It still held a faint smell of perfume mingled with dust. He smiled, remembering how she used to nick Mum’s perfume, ‘Shh, don’t tell,’ she’d say, as she squirted it all over her neck. Funny how the smell lingered when only a memory of Jade remained.

  Sighing, he walked over to the dressing table and sat on the stool. The silk scarf draped over the mirror, hid the framed photograph he knew was there. Gently he removed the scarf. It smelled of flowers. He held it to his face, feeling the silk caress his skin. Then he draped it round his neck.

  He had seen the photo many times before but he never tired looking at it – Jade and Emma with their arms around each other, twins, identical in dress and face, but with two very different personalities. Jade always had a sparkle in her eyes. She was bouncy and full of life, while Emma was the opposite, such a serious and quiet child. Even now, he did not know what Emma had felt at the time. She had gone into a catatonic phase and had not cried or shown much emotion. But Mum had done enough crying for all of them.

  After Jade’s disappearance, it took him a long time to face going into her room, and he found it perplexing Emma would still want to use it. But she refused to sleep anywhere else. ‘It’s my room too,’ she’d said, setting her jaw in that unmistakable stubborn way that was so familiar.

  He cradled the tiny bear against his cheek, thinking, not for the first time, it was a pity it had been Jade who had gone. Emma would not have been such a loss.

  * * * *

  Emma Carnegie switched off from Mandy’s voice shortly after she entered the library. She had no interest in Mandy’s latest love affair. Last week it had been Steven who was enrolled in the new Ethical Hacking course. The week before it was Mark studying Computer Games Technology. Who on earth would want to get tied up with someone who was into games playing as a career? Not that Mandy was in any danger of getting tied up with one guy, when there were so many to choose from.

  ‘Next!’ The librarian sounded as weary as Emma felt. Maybe she didn’t want to be here either.

  She handed over her library card and books, while Mandy’s voice continued to rattle on behind her. Emma wondered whether she’d made a mistake enrolling for the Computing and Networks undergraduate course. She didn’t seem to fit in with the student life going on all around her.

  The librarian date-stamped and slid the books across the counter. Emma pushed her blonde hair back from her eyes, gathered the books up and stuffed them into her haversack. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she said to Mandy, cutting her off in mid-stream, ‘I’m off home to study.’

  ‘A bunch of us are going for lunch. You sure you don’t want to tag along?’

  Emma paused in the doorway and shook her head. She couldn’t put up with any more of the chatter. ‘I’ll give it a miss. I wouldn’t have come in at all this morning if I’d known the prof’s lecture was going to be cancelled.’ Lectures were the part of her course she liked the least. She had thought a computer science course would have been more hands-on. At least at home she would have access to a computer and she would not have to wait for a library one to come free.

  Outside she shivered in the biting March wind, buried her chin in her scarf, pulled the zip of her jacket as high as it would go, and hurried to the bus stop.

  The house was quiet when she let herself in. Mum would still be at work, and she never knew what Ryan was up to. She slung her jacket over the banister and went into the kitchen. The kettle was hot. She flipped the switch, waited until the water boiled, and made a cup of coffee.

  Cradling the cup in her hands, she headed for her study at the back of the house, switched on the computer and waited for it to fire up. That was when she heard the footsteps in the room overhead – her bedroom.

  She stared at the ceiling for a moment. Then, setting her cup down, she tiptoed out of the study and up the stairs.

&
nbsp; * * * *

  Ryan dashed tears from his eyes with the back of his hand. The movement sent the fragrance of flowers wafting up from the silk scarf round his neck. Holding it to his face, he breathed in the smell and luxuriated in the softness of the fabric against his skin.

  It aroused him. The urge to cover his body with silk was irresistible. He slid open a drawer, plunged his hands inside and closed his eyes, enjoying the sensuous feel of silk running through his fingers.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Emma’s voice, harsh with annoyance, cut into his reverie.

  He snatched his hands out of the drawer and slammed it shut. ‘I was thinking about Jade and wanted to see her photo again.’ She was not convinced. He could see it in her eyes.

  ‘You were rummaging in my undie drawer,’ she spat. ‘You had no right.’

  He squirmed. ‘I thought there might be more photos in there.’

  ‘Likely story.’

  ‘It’s the honest truth.’

  She strode towards him and grabbed the silk scarf from his neck. ‘You’ll be wearing my panties next.’

  Heat rose from his neck to burn his cheeks. ‘Don’t talk crap!’

  ‘Weirdo!’

  ‘I’m not a weirdo. I miss Jade.’

  ‘And you think I don’t?’

  ‘You’re a cold fish. You don’t miss her the way I do.’

  He held his breath. Emma’s eyes widened, and he found the look on her face difficult to decipher. Getting up he pushed past her and rushed from the room.

  She staggered, pulled herself together and ran after him. He reached his own room and tried to slam the door, but he was too late. Emma pushed in after him. Anger suffused her face and he backed away from her. He had never seen her like this before and he was suddenly afraid of what she might do to him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he stammered, hoping to appease her.

  ‘You’re sorry,’ she blazed. ‘Damn well stay out of my room and keep your hands off my things.’ She raised a hand to strike him.

  The doorbell rang, and her hand dropped to her side. Breathing heavily, she muttered, ‘Don’t think I’m going to forget this,’ before backing out of the room.

  Chapter Seven

  After the super left, Kate took stock of her office. It was smaller than the one she had at Forfar, but the desk and chair were nowhere near as dilapidated as she was accustomed to. It reflected the priority level the Tayside force gave to Eastern division, which came lower in the pecking order than Central.

  She sank into the leather swivel chair and twirled back and forth. This definitely was a lot more comfortable than her saggy old one. Pulling out the top right desk drawer, she frowned when she saw it was full of reports. Security evidently had not been a priority with the previous DI, and if he was sloppy about security it would reflect back on the team. Things here would have to change.

  She lifted the reports out of the desk drawer and riffled through them. Nothing seemed to be urgent or pending so she got up to lock them safely away in the filing cabinet, snorting softly to herself when she discovered the cabinet wasn’t even locked. She pulled out the top drawer. It was full. She tried the rest of them until she found space in the bottom one. Placing the reports in it she slammed the drawer shut with her foot.

  A wave of despondency overtook her and she slumped back into the chair. What had she got herself into? It would take forever to sort out this mess of paperwork, never mind whip the team into shape. She stared at the closed Venetian blinds on the window separating her room from the main office and willed herself to get up and open them. If the team thought she was watching them maybe they would buck themselves up.

  She was halfway across the room when her mobile rang. Fishing it out of her pocket she flipped it open and frowned. Her finger hovered on the accept button for a moment but then she closed the screen and rammed the phone back into her pocket. It was probably another of those silent phone calls she’d been getting lately. She should report it and get a trace put on it but that would send out the wrong signal to whoever was making the calls, and she didn’t want to give them the pleasure of knowing they irritated her. Better to ignore them and the caller would eventually give up.

  Pulling the cord to open the venetians she stared with angry eyes into the team room. DS Rogers, the auburn-haired woman, was rummaging in a filing cabinet drawer. The desk next to her was now empty. DC Cartwright was hunched over a computer, while the other DC, whose name she couldn’t remember, had his head down studying a file.

  Her lips tightened when she noted no sign of DS Murphy. The venetians swung when she let go of the cord to open the office door. Marching into the main office she approached DS Rogers who was now shrugging her coat on.

  ‘I’d like a word about procedures.’ Kate found it difficult to suppress her annoyance, but Rogers had done nothing to warrant it.

  Sue smiled apologetically. ‘Can it wait, ma’am. The super asked me to represent him at a meeting at Tayside House and I don’t want to be late.’

  ‘See me when you get back.’ Kate turned away in an attempt to hide her anger. The super knew she would be starting today. Why hadn’t he asked her?

  She took several deep breaths until she felt calmer, walked over to the water cooler where she filled a paper cup and gulped its contents. That was better, her heart had stopped racing and she felt more in charge of her emotions.

  ‘Ma’am!’

  She had been deep in thought and had not heard the constable approaching. ‘Yes?’ She smiled. ‘It’s DC Cartwright, isn’t it?’ The girl seemed hardly old enough to be a constable let alone a detective.

  ‘Yes, ma’am. I’ve found some interesting chat room stuff on the computer and we need to check it out with Mrs Fraser.’

  Kate frowned, concentrating on what the super had told her about ongoing cases. ‘Is that the family whose daughter is missing?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘You’ve met the family?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am. I went with Bill – I mean DS Murphy, on the initial investigation.’

  ‘I see. I suppose we could wait for DS Murphy to come back. Do we know when that will be?’

  ‘No, ma’am.’ The young woman seemed embarrassed. ‘Should I wait for him?’

  ‘No, no!’ Kate nodded towards the detective constable at the other desk. ‘Take him with you.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  A few minutes later Kate prowled round the empty room, thinking it was amazing what you could deduce from a person’s desk and working space. When she came to DS Murphy’s, she tutted with exasperation and lifted the three files sitting on his desk. He needed a lesson on data security. She would make sure his name was put forward for the next training course.

  The phone in her office rang, breaking the silence. She walked briskly there, dropped the files on her desk, and lifted the receiver. ‘DI Rawlings!’

  She listened with rising excitement, scribbling the details on a writing pad. Replacing the pencil on the desk, she said, ‘Find DS Murphy, wherever he is, and instruct him to meet me at the Overgate multi-storey car park.’ She listened for a moment. ‘I don’t care what he’s involved in. This is a suspicious death and I’ll accept no excuses from him.’

  * * * *

  Bill drew into the kerb in front of the house in Johnston Avenue. It was one of a row of two-storey, semi-detached villas set back from the street with a small area of garden in front. He sat for a moment thinking what he was going to say, but when he finally got out of the car he was still undecided.

  The iron gate hung open and he strolled up the garden path and rang the bell.

  The sound of raised voices coming from inside the house stopped. He stood back to get a better view of the windows, waited a moment and rang the bell again. When there was no response he pressed it yet again and this time he kept his finger on it.

  Muted voices, the sound of scuffling and someone running downstairs, preceded the door opening.

  ‘OK, OK
.’

  The slight young man who opened it looked flustered. A strand of hair had escaped his ponytail and flopped over his face.

  ‘You must be Ryan,’ Bill said, doing mental arithmetic. The boy was fifteen at the time of the initial investigation. He must be twenty now, although he looked younger – maybe because he was small.

  ‘Yeah!’ He frowned as if trying to remember who Bill was.

  ‘You don’t remember me?’ Bill rummaged in his wallet for his ID card. Finding it he held it up. ‘I was involved in the investigation of your sister’s disappearance.’

  ‘That was a long time ago.’

  ‘Yes,’ Bill said, ‘we’re having another look at it. D’you think I could talk to your parents?’

  ‘Mum’s at work. She won’t be back until after four.’

  ‘What about your father?’

  ‘He’s not here anymore.’ Ryan shuffled his feet and looked away.

  ‘And good riddance too – he was a waste of space.’ The girl coming down the stairs was slim with the same honey blonde hair he remembered her mother having, although hers was shorter and worn in a straight style that covered her ears and partly hung over her face almost masking one eye.

  ‘You must be Emma?’ Bill reckoned she would be eighteen now, although her unsmiling face, which reflected a mixture of maturity and vulnerability, made it difficult to tell.

  ‘Must I?’ she mocked, looking at him with serious eyes.

  He changed his mind about the vulnerability. This was a girl who would be able to hold her own.

  Bill considered for a moment before saying, ‘Can I come in and talk to you?’

  ‘What’s there to talk about? You weren’t able to help at the time. What’s different now?’ Emma tilted her chin and glared her defiance. ‘Besides it’ll upset Mum all over again. She’ll think you’ve found her.’

  Ryan fingered the earring in his left ear. ‘Maybe we should listen to what he has to say. It can’t hurt.’