THEIR LOST DAUGHTERS a gripping crime thriller with a huge twist

by Joy Ellis

  ‘You’re going to clone us?’

  ‘I don’t think I could cope with two Charlie Buttons, could you?’

  ‘Bless him. He does try.’ Her smile faded. ‘So what do you have in mind regarding Kenya Black?’

  ‘I think we should ring the mother, Grace Black, and go and see her — right now, if she’s in.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m going to throw myself on her mercy, tell her that we are reopening the case, but that there are other girls missing. I’m going to try to get her to see our problem, and promise to give our full attention to Kenya the moment we have a breakthrough on our present case.’

  Marie thought for a moment. ‘I think you’re right. If we at least make contact, it will give her something to hold on to, and keep the super off our backs.’

  ‘Then I’ll get Clive to telephone her.’ He lowered his voice. ‘We have to tread very warily with Grace Black. From what I’ve read in the files, she has never given up on finding her daughter. And as you’ve probably heard, she never misses any opportunity to criticise the police. And frankly, I don’t blame her.’

  Marie nodded. ‘I’ve read the reports too, sir. We need to do everything by the book where Grace Black is concerned.’

  ‘Right. So what are the others up to while we’re away?’

  ‘Don’t worry about them, they are all gainfully employed, including Gary Pritchard. He’s down in the dark room with Charlie, staring at the CCTV screens.’

  ‘Ah, Nicholas Barley’s info.’

  ‘Yes, they are looking for Nick and the guy who was the parties’ main man.’

  ‘Excellent,’ said Jackman. ‘Then I’ll see what we can arrange for this visit.’

  * * *

  Grace Black had said that she would be at home for another two hours, so Jackman and Marie left immediately.

  They were shown into a large lounge that looked more like a city trader’s office than a comfortable living area. Cardboard document boxes were stacked along one wall, and reams of printouts, letters, desk diaries, and newspaper cuttings littered every surface. Video and CD cases, all with spidery writing on the spines, were balanced in untidy towers beside the television. Marie spotted a computer, a laptop, and at least three telephones.

  Marie knew that Grace was in her early forties. She had a thin, wiry body, piercing brown eyes and short dark hair, cropped, Marie assumed, for ease of care. From her rather creased appearance, it looked as though Grace Black spent little time on herself.

  They were not given a drink, merely an impatient command to sit, not an easy task amid the clutter.

  Marie carefully removed a copy of the Yellow Pages and a local phone book from a hard-backed chair, and perched herself uncomfortably on the edge. Jackman eased his tall frame in between a heap of box-files and an open gym bag full of dirty rugby kit.

  ‘Throw that on the floor. It’s only there so I don’t forget to sort it out before tomorrow night.’ She made an irritated huffing sound. ‘Not enough hours in the bloody day.’

  Jackman smiled. ‘We won’t keep you long, Mrs Black, but there is something that we would like you to know.’ He launched into his semi-prepared speech, and then waited.

  Marie waited too. They were both expecting an angry tirade but to their surprise, she remained silent. Then she said, very softly, ‘I’ve heard all this before, you know.’

  ‘Not from me, you haven’t,’ said Jackman, sincerely. ‘We have one case to tie up first, and then, I promise you, we will not let this go again until we have found out what happened to your daughter.’

  ‘I want to believe you, but—’

  ‘You can. You have my word.’

  ‘Frankly, I don’t think you are in a position to give it. If the powers that be pull the plug on you, you’ll do what all the others did and give up, making the same old excuses. And believe me, I’ve heard them all. Manpower, budget, priorities, you name it.’

  ‘This time it’s different, Mrs Black. I have their assurance that I can stay with this case until its conclusion. And I will use every tool and every officer available to me.’

  ‘Forgive my scepticism, but this sounds as if your top brass need this nasty little mess swept away. They’ve probably got wind of the fact that I intend to start making serious waves again. They don’t really care about me or my family’s grief, DI Jackman. I’m just an embarrassment and an inconvenience and they want to shut me up.’

  Marie felt that she was probably right. ‘Does it actually matter about their reasons or their politics, Mrs Black? The main thing is that the case is going to be re-investigated from the very beginning, and they’ve chosen the best detective in the whole of the region to deal with it.’

  She tried not to look at Jackman. ‘Plus, if DI Jackman gives you his word, then accept it. If anyone can find out what happened to your little girl, he’s right here.’

  Grace was silent for a moment or two.

  ‘My! Maybe things will be different this time.’

  ‘Then can we rely on your support?’ Jackman asked quickly. ‘Even if it means dragging up all the old pain again?’

  ‘Do you think it ever went away?’ Grace replied.

  ‘No, I’m sure it didn’t. But I will want to go over every report, every statement, every move of every person involved — times, dates and what they had for breakfast. We might ask questions that seem irrelevant or very painful, but I’ll want answers to all of them. Can you cope with that?’

  Grace Black straightened her spine, and pulled her shoulders back. Her whole demeanour altered. ‘Yes! Yes, I can, and what’s left of my family will too. Just how long will this other case take? The one you have to tie up first.’

  Marie wished Grace hadn’t asked that question. They were making such good progress.

  ‘You should know that it’s a missing person case, Mrs Black,’ said Jackman. ‘Not a child, but a teenage girl, and under the circumstances I’m sure you will bear with us for a short time. Initially there were three missing girls, but we have found two already. One is safely back with her family, but the other, sadly . . . she is back with her family but not the way we hoped. I’m sure we will be able to find the third girl very soon. We do have leads that we are following.’

  Grace shook her head sadly. ‘Then I wish you all the luck in the world, for the missing girl and her family’s sake, and for ours too.’

  Jackman stood up. Marie felt an overwhelming urge to run from the room. There were just too many children torn from their homes, too many daughters lost to their mothers, too many heartbroken families looking for answers.

  As they moved towards the door, Jackman paused and said, ‘We do appreciate your time, Mrs Black. You’ll be hearing from us just as soon as possible.’

  Grace Black stood and tilted her head to one side. Marie was reminded of a bird. Then she gave them a sad smile and said, ‘Do you know? For once, I believe I will.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Charlie Button, Max Cohen and Gary Pritchard sat in the flickering darkness of the monitor room, their eyes trained on the CCTV footage that flashed across the screens.

  ‘I hope you three are working and not hiding down here eating Big Macs and fries.’

  Jackman flopped into a spare chair and Marie looked over Max’s shoulder at the monitor.

  ‘No such luck,’ said Max, eyes on his screen. ‘We are still looking for Nick Barley’s meeting with the leader of the Sicko Society.’

  ‘Well, while you look, I have a bit of good news for PC Pritchard here.’

  Gary paused the footage and swung around to face him. ‘Sir?’

  ‘As from ten minutes ago, you are on our team.’

  Gary face creased into a smile. ‘That’s great, sir! I just hope I can be of help.’

  ‘I’m sure you will, Constable. Now are you happy to commute, or can we organise somewhere temporary for you in Saltern?’

  ‘He can have my guest room, boss.’ Marie turned to Gary. ‘If you want it?’

  ‘That w
ould be perfect, as long as I’m not putting you out, Sarge?’

  Marie smiled. ‘No problem. It’ll be good to have someone else around, other than the cat.’ And she meant it. Since her husband’s death, she had preferred to be on her own, but having only old memories for company was sometimes depressing. She liked Gary and believed that he was lonely, and that it also stemmed from tragic loss.

  ‘That’s settled then,’ said Jackman.

  Gary was grinning from ear to ear. ‘When I get home tonight I’ll sort out a few things and get some clothes together. I can move in tomorrow, if that’s okay? It’ll be much better to be on hand if I’m needed.’

  ‘My thoughts precisely,’ said Marie. ‘Although perhaps I should fill you in on some of my eccentric habits before you commit yourself to becoming my lodger.’

  Gary raised an eyebrow. ‘Sounds intriguing, but I’ll take my chances, Sarge. When you’ve lived out on Harlan Marsh you’ve seen it all. That place has characters that make eccentric look normal!’

  Marie laughed. ‘Well, I don’t think I’m that bad!’

  ‘Don’t you believe it,’ said Max. ‘I’ve heard the rumours in the mess room.’

  Marie cuffed him across the back of the head, suddenly feeling very pleased with her new domestic arrangement. She’d been on her own for too long.

  ‘Sarge! Boss!’ Gary stopped his machine and ran it back a few frames. ‘Got them!’

  Marie stared at two dark figures, both staying well back in the shadows, while young Nick Barley, blissfully unaware, stood right in front of the security camera.

  ‘Damn! They could be anyone,’ she cursed.

  ‘Hang fire, Sarge. The one on the left turns in a minute. Look, just there.’ Gary pointed to the screen.

  ‘That taller one, he’s familiar. I think we know him,’ murmured Jackman.

  ‘Maybe, but . . .’ Marie squinted as she tried to make out any recognisable features.

  ‘The quality is crap. Even if he were the biggest villain in town, we’d never get an ID from that.’

  ‘I’ll get some stills printed off. Maybe they’ll show something more.’ Gary went to talk to the IT operator and returned in a few minutes with a batch of printouts.

  Jackman sighed. ‘These are no better. Max? Can you clean them up, make them clearer?

  ‘No, sir. I can tell that the IT operator has done his best with them. Young Barley’s face is clear as crystal, as you can see. But the head honcho and his side-kick keep close to the buildings and in deep shadow.’

  ‘If they’re local, they probably know the exact positioning of the cameras,’ Jackman muttered. ‘Is this all we have?’

  ‘We just need to check out the last of the meeting places that Nicholas Barley told us about.’ Charlie threw them a tired smile. ‘You never know, we may get lucky.’

  ‘Okay. You guys were here at the crack of dawn, so finish those and get home. There’s little more we can do now.’

  ‘Are you getting away too, sir?’ Marie noted the dark patches beneath Jackman’s eyes.

  ‘I need to talk to this Benedict Broome guy first, and then I thought I’d go see Toni Clarkson at her home, and try to find something, anything, that might give us a clearer idea of the identity of Emily.’

  ‘I’ll go with you,’ said Marie.

  ‘No, you finish up here, and then for God’s sake take the opportunity to get some rest. I get the feeling that things are about to hot up.’ He stabbed a finger at the grainy photographs. ‘It’s all about these sick bloody parties, isn’t it? Nick Barley helped to organise one of the venues, Toni went willingly to one, Emily too, and Asher Leyton told us that Shauna Kelly said she had been to a weird party and was going to another. We have to find a way to stop them before more kids disappear, or get killed!’

  Marie thought about Emily. Time might be running out for her, wherever she was. Whoever she was. ‘If only we could get someone inside one of these parties,’ she murmured.

  ‘You find me a venue, and I’ll get in.’ Rosie McElderry stood in the doorway, a determined look in her eyes.

  ‘The problem is finding the next venue,’ said Gary flatly. ‘Don’t forget, we’ve been one step behind these guys for months and we’re no nearer catching them.’

  ‘But you didn’t have Nick Barley, did you?’ Rosie looked down at the photographs of the boy. ‘As long as no one knows that he’s helping us, he could be our way in.’

  Jackman puffed out his cheeks. ‘He told us he did a runner when he found out he was dealing with a load of pervs. He may not find it easy to get in again.’

  ‘Maybe not, but I’m willing to bet he knows some of the kids that do go,’ Rosie said doggedly. ‘At least let’s talk to him.’

  Max frowned. ‘Well, if we do manage to get a location and a time, why don’t we just raid the place? Avoid any risk to Rosie and lock the bastards up, job done!’

  Rosie smiled. ‘So sweet of you to care. But think it through, Max. It may not be job-done if a vanload of flatfoots charges in. What if the bosses aren’t there? I doubt the organisers attend every rave. Or what if they leg it and we lose them? I’m one hundred per cent certain they have an escape route worked out. And the place could be full of minors. It’s too iffy. We need more intelligence before we can hit them.’

  ‘Rosie is right,’ said Jackman quietly. ‘We do need to infiltrate one of these damned parties.’

  ‘Maybe I can help you, sir.’

  Marie saw a tall figure standing behind Rosie. A stony-faced Danny Page, the desk sergeant, stepped into the dimly lit monitor room. ‘Sorry to butt in, but I think you ought to hear what a new witness has to say about your parties.’

  Jackman stood up. ‘Someone has finally come forward?’

  ‘After a fashion.’ He ushered a blonde teenage girl into the room. ‘Detective Inspector Jackman, meet my daughter, Jasmine. I think you’ll find she has quite a lot to tell you.’

  * * *

  Half an hour later Sergeant Page, arm around her shoulder, escorted his daughter from the station. Jackman and the others discussed their next move.

  ‘So, all we need is Jasmine’s friend Chloe’s mobile phone, and as soon as the text comes through, we’ll have the location of the next venue. We’re in! We’ve got her address. Shall Max and I go pick it up, sir?’ Rosie sounded excited.

  Jackman nodded. ‘Yes. From what Jasmine heard, there are sometimes several parties a week, which could make the next one anytime, tonight even!’ He looked at Rosie. ‘Go! And I don’t have to tell you how to handle Chloe and her brother, do I? There are lives at stake. You can scare the shit out of them for all I care, just make sure they co-operate and keep their mouths shut, okay?’

  Jackman and Marie walked back upstairs, leaving Gary and Charlie to check the last of the CCTV films.

  ‘I guess you’d better hang on now until Rosie and Max get back. I want us all to be in close proximity to that party, wherever it is, if our flower is going in undercover.’

  ‘I’m not sure I’m happy about her doing this alone,’ said Marie.

  ‘Well, sorry to say this, but I hardly think any of the rest of us would pass for teenagers anymore.’

  ‘Why not send Max in with her?’ asked Marie. ‘He seemed pretty worried about her taking this on.’

  ‘Max isn’t very good at getting down and dirty.’ Jackman gave a little laugh. ‘Remember the last time we tried to rough him up a bit? He still looked as if he’d walked off the cover of GQ. He’s a trendy young man alright, but certainly not the kind to attend a party of this nature. He’d stand out like a sore thumb. And anyway, I think Rosie will attract less attention if she plays this one solo.’

  ‘What about a wire?’ asked Marie.

  ‘Don’t worry. I wouldn’t let her do it without one. We need to know what’s going on every step of the way. She’ll be fine, Marie. You know Rosie. This is all part of the job, it’s what we do. She’s a tough cookie when she needs to be, and she can take care of herself, so stop
fretting.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’m going to ring Benedict Broome. And I’m still hoping to visit Toni Clarkson, but I guess that rather depends on whether one of our nasty parties will be taking place. Perhaps you’d see if PC Andy English has had any luck with Broome’s planning permission?’

  Jackman went into the office, picked up the tattered card that Kevin Stoner had given him and dialled the number.

  Benedict Broome answered in a deep voice, the words clearly enunciated.

  Jackman introduced himself, and briefly told him of the missing girl and the earlier visit to his property on Roman Creek.

  ‘Mr Lee did tell me,’ said Broome, with a slight hint of amusement in his voice. ‘I hope his rather overwhelming appearance didn’t upset your officers? And I hope that he was accommodating. Sometimes he can be a little overprotective of the old place.’

  ‘My men did mention his size, sir, but I can assure you that he was obliging enough to show them around.’ He went on to say that considering the size of Windrush, they would need to make an extended search, and asked his permission to go ahead.

  ‘Of course you must, Detective Inspector. I’ll notify Mr Lee immediately, and tell him you have my full permission.’

  After a few words of thanks, Jackman hung up. The man had been charming, and his concern for the missing girl had sounded genuine. Jackman stared at the phone. So why did he feel so uneasy?

  With a light tap at the door, Marie entered. ‘Andy’s off duty, but he left you this.’

  Jackman took the memo and read it aloud:

  ‘Sir, regarding planning permission for Benedict Broome’s project at Windrush. Will know more after I’ve spoken to a senior council official tomorrow, but I suspect things are not straightforward. I’m certain it warrants taking another look. PC Andy English.’

  Something in Jackman wanted to jump up, grab a van full of uniforms, and chase out to Windrush immediately. They would need to search the place under their terms, not those of the giant caretaker, Mr Micah Lee.

  ‘I’m sorry to say it’s too late to move on this today. There aren’t enough hours of daylight left. We’ll go tomorrow. Why don’t you go downstairs and see how much support uniform can offer us? We’ll need a pretty big team for a place that size.’