THEIR LOST DAUGHTERS a gripping crime thriller with a huge twist

by Joy Ellis

  Marie nodded. ‘I’ll see what I can organise.’ In the doorway she hesitated. ‘You will let me know as soon as Rosie and Max get back, won’t you?’

  ‘Of course I will,’ he said.

  He watched his sergeant walk out. He fully understood her concerns. Young women were the common denominator in this investigation, and Rosie was a very pretty young woman, who looked much younger than her years. But she was also an experienced and very capable police officer. There was no doubt in his mind that she was perfect for the job. Even if it was risky.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  After Marie had liaised with uniform regarding a full-scale search of Windrush, she walked back into the office to get her jacket and keys. Jackman sat on the edge of her desk, deep in thought.

  ‘Thought you were going to visit Toni Clarkson?’

  ‘I am, but I’ve been thinking. Would you come with me?’

  ‘Of course, but why the change of heart?’

  ‘Her father. If I go alone there’ll be little chance of talking to her without him sitting in on the conversation, and that’s not what I want. If you are there too, we should be able to get her alone.’

  ‘I agree. She’ll talk much more easily if her parents aren’t there.’ She looked at him. ‘Any news from Rosie?’

  ‘It’s on tonight at ten thirty. Max rang me just before you walked in.’

  ‘Where?’ asked Marie, feeling her throat constrict.

  ‘Apparently they don’t divulge the location until half an hour before it kicks off. I’m not sure what Rosie and Max said to them, but although Chloe is well pissed off, her brother Luke is singing like a bird. Max reckons he’s got the wind up about something that happened there a week or so ago, plus he has confirmed that Shauna Kelly was one of the partygoers. And he’s very keen to help us.’ Jackman gave her a tight smile. ‘He’s told Rosie that she can use his name to get in.’

  ‘She trusts him?’

  ‘Luke has been going for a while now. Not to every party, but quite a few of them. He is considered “safe” by the organisers, not that he knows much about them.’

  ‘Where’s Rosie now?’ Marie asked.

  ‘She’s gone to borrow some suitably trendy gear from her niece. She’ll be back at ten, to wait for the call.’ Jackman glanced up at the wall clock. ‘It’s only six o’clock, so we have plenty of time to go see Toni, and grab some supper and a few hours’ rest.’ Jackman stood up. ‘Ready?’

  ‘Ready.’

  * * *

  Jackman drove fast through the lonely fenland towards Harlan Marsh. The long reed-fringed drove seemed endless. He slowed down a little. From the day he began driving in this terrain, he’d learned never to underestimate these seemingly benign roads. A change in camber, a hump-back bridge, a sudden and unexpected bend or even simple complacency could have you nose down in a deep ditch in seconds.

  Tiredness overwhelmed him as he eased the car around a bend and saw Harlan Marsh town ahead of him. This visit really could have waited until the morning, but then he would need to get the search party out to the old sanatorium.

  Neil Clarkson opened the door. He was not exactly welcoming. ‘Keep it short, DI Jackman, my daughter is exhausted.’

  Maybe so, but she is alive, Jackman thought to himself, and safe, unlike poor Emily. ‘Of course, sir. Just a few minutes with her, and we’ll be out of your hair.’

  Clarkson frowned. ‘Alone?’

  ‘It’s better that way, if you have no objection. Youngsters don’t like their parents hearing their secrets.’

  Clarkson stood back reluctantly and pointed down the long hallway. ‘Third door along the right-hand side. Knock loudly, she’s probably got her headphones on.’

  Toni’s room was a real mix of childish and more teenage stuff. Two cuddly teddy bears sat in front of a poster showing some kind of night creatures locked in a bloody, pointed-fanged embrace. Jackman’s nephews loved Twilight, but this had a more sinister, erotic edge to it. Jackman was pretty sure that her parents were not particularly happy with their daughter’s choice of artwork.

  ‘What’s the music?’ he asked, as Toni took out the earpieces.

  ‘Band called Taking Back Sunday.’ She looked at Jackman patiently. ‘You won’t have heard of them.’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t have you down as an Emo.’

  For a moment her eyes widened, there was a hint of amusement but she didn’t comment. And that was fine, because it was total luck that he’d recently listened to an interview about the Emo subculture on Radio 4.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about Emily,’ said Toni slowly. ‘Did I tell you she spoke funny?’

  ‘What, like a speech impediment?’ Marie said.

  ‘No, like an accent. I think she’s from Eastern Europe.’ Toni’s fingers idly brushed the screen of her phone and brilliant-coloured pictures flashed across it.

  ‘I’m not sure, but I can remember something about grandparents who wouldn’t leave their village, even though it was really gross. You know? Like bombed out?’

  Jackman puffed out his cheeks and exhaled slowly. That could be why they had no missing person report. There was a large migrant worker community of EU nationals living in Greenborough, but they stuck together and didn’t trust the police.

  ‘And her name’s not really Emily.’ Toni stared down at a photo of a moody-looking youth with an oily, tanned torso and bleached teeth. ‘She said the English couldn’t pronounce her real name properly, so she called herself Emily because she liked it.’

  Jackman rubbed his forehead and tried to think. This was getting more problematic by the second.

  ‘And that really is all I can remember.’ Toni swiped the beautiful boy from her screen and replaced it with a Pokemon character.

  ‘You’ve done well, Toni.’ Marie’s voice was soft.

  ‘Do you think she’s dead?’

  The bluntness of the question made Jackman shudder. ‘We are doing our best to get to her before anything like that can happen.’

  ‘I think she’s dead. The men at that place . . .’ Toni gave an involuntary shiver. ‘I saw their eyes. Especially one of them, the one that hurt me. He had horrible eyes.’

  ‘How do you mean?’ Marie asked gently.

  ‘Like blank. Like, yeah, he was all excited about the day that she was born and all that, but even then his eyes were still blank. Like in a zombie film, but I’ve never seen a human being really look that way.’

  Jackman felt a chill descend around them when Toni spoke about the man who had taken her. He had really terrified her, and Jackman was sure that it would take more than a little time to make those horrible memories fade.

  Marie looked at him, and he knew that she was thinking the same thing.

  Marie moved the conversation away from dead eyes. ‘Toni, when we spoke to you at the hospital, you said that somebody was singing. Do you remember that? Could you explain what you meant?’

  Toni screwed her face up in concentration. ‘I’d forgotten that. It seemed so weird! I mean totally creepy. In that stinking cellar with the candles and the wine and funky music playing, this one guy starts to sing, and his voice was . . .’ She lifted her hands in a little gesture of amazement. ‘Like some choir boy! But better, stronger. I mean, like really powerful, like he had no control over the volume. It was kind of awesome.’

  Marie glanced across at Jackman and shrugged.

  Jackman frowned. He was certain that this information was hugely significant.

  ‘Thanks for that, Toni. We are going to go now. I think it’s time you got some rest, okay?’ He took a card from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘Maybe you could write down anything else that comes to you. Anything, no matter how small — and ring me?’

  The girl took the card, and her cold fingers touched Jackman’s as she did so. ‘I keep seeing her. I see her face as they dragged her away.’

  She placed the card on her bedside cabinet and slowly turned towards them. Tears filled her eyes.

  Ma
rie took the girl’s hand in hers.

  With one hand to her ribs, Toni slipped a thin arm around Marie and held on tightly, burying her head in Marie’s chest. ‘All because of her birthday,’ she sobbed. ‘If it had been different, it could have been me they took, couldn’t it?’

  The gobby little pain in the arse had vanished.

  Marie stroked the girl’s hair and made soothing noises. ‘But it wasn’t you was it, sweetheart? You are safe home where you belong. Now all you need to do to help Emily is write down any new memories, anything that comes to you, okay? And then, when we find her, and we will find her, Toni, you can put all this behind you and get on with your life.’

  The girl cried for a little longer, and Jackman became conscious of her father waiting anxiously outside her door. At least he had the good sense not to enter.

  They left some ten minutes later, convinced that there really was another young victim out there somewhere, waiting for them to find her. But would they find her alive?

  * * *

  As the car sped back towards the station, Jackman said, ‘I hope I’m right, but my housekeeper generally leaves me some hot food when we are busy. Want to share?’

  Marie had heard about Mrs Maynard’s legendary home-cooked dishes, and her stomach grumbled. ‘I’d love to, if you’re sure.’

  ‘Excellent.’ He gave her a little smile, ‘Although it’ll probably be the first time she’s forgotten. But no worry, M&S is lurking in my freezer waiting for emergencies.’

  He turned the car off the main road and headed towards Cartoft. ‘It will give us a chance to plan tonight and talk over what we’ve just heard from Toni.’

  ‘And in nicer surroundings than the nick.’

  Marie loved Jackman’s windmill home, it felt so welcoming. She would give her eye teeth for a place like that. Bill would have loved it. She could imagine him out in the old store, working patiently on some ancient motorcycle engine. She gave an inadvertent sigh.

  ‘You okay? Not worrying about Rosie again, are you?’

  ‘No, just a little nudge from the past. Sometimes things creep up on you when you least expect it.’

  ‘Bill?’

  She nodded. ‘I know it’s pointless, but when someone dies too soon, when they are still young, you can’t help wondering how they would have turned out.’ She rubbed her hands together thoughtfully. ‘I try to imagine what he would have made of things — modern policing, all the new technology, like cars that park themselves and phones that operate your central heating.’ She laughed softly. ‘He was a bit of a technophobe really. I think that’s why he loved old motor bikes so much. He liked things that smelled of oil that you could tinker with and coax back to life. Plugging your car into a computerised diagnostic reader didn’t do it for him at all. And I really don’t think he would approve of having your parcels delivered by drone.’

  Jackman nodded. ‘I feel a bit the same. I mean I love how science has given us ways to solve crimes so much quicker, and the advances in medical science are undeniable, but I think my heart is happiest with the simpler things.’

  Marie brushed away her thoughts of the past when she realised that they were turning into the lane leading to his home.

  ‘Fingers crossed that Mrs M. has worked some magic in my kitchen.’ He grinned at her. ‘And I don’t think a small restorative glass of wine would go amiss either.’

  He pulled up under the car port, turned the engine off and flung open the door. ‘Can you smell cooking?’

  Marie stepped out and inhaled. ‘I’m getting a distinct whiff of curry. Is there an Indian restaurant in Cartoft?’

  ‘There is nothing in Cartoft, and I mean nothing, other than the church and the village hall, so that bodes very well.’

  Together they hurried over to the mill.

  The smell of aromatic spices greeted them at the door.

  ‘Oh yes!’ Jackman’s eyes lit up. ‘It won’t be like anything you’d find in a curry house. Mrs M. doesn’t use recipes, she just does her own thing.’ He led the way through to the kitchen, picked up a note from the table and read it out.

  “Chicken curry keeping hot in the small oven, and there’s some of that foreign bread stuff that you like in a tray under foil. Heat it for a few minutes. Don’t forget the gardener’s coming on Thursday to do the hedges. Hetty.”

  Marie smiled. ‘I’d like a Mrs M. Do you rent her out?’

  ‘She’s worth her weight in gold, believe me.’ Jackman took off his jacket and threw it over the back of a chair. ‘Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get the wine while the naan bread is warming.’ He opened the fridge and took out a bottle of Chardonnay. ‘I have no idea why, but for some reason it’s perfect with chicken curry.’

  ‘It better not be too nice, or we’ll have to call off tonight’s sortie.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I’m rationing it.’ He splashed wine into two glasses, replaced the top and returned the bottle to the fridge.

  A few minutes later, he was dishing the food into two large bowls and putting the hot bread on a plate between them. ‘Dig in and enjoy.’

  As they ate they talked about Toni and the worrying things she had said. If Emily was a migrant worker, tracing her would be difficult given the tight knit community that she would live in. After a while, Marie added, ‘I know we have the Windrush search to contend with tomorrow, but we mustn’t forget that we have to go and talk to the residents of Allenby Creek.’ She finished the last mouthful then said, ‘Surely someone must have seen something? It’s such an out of the way spot, you’d think a strange car or someone you don’t recognise would stand out.’

  ‘Let’s hope we find someone who uniform missed on their house-to-house.’ Jackman stood up and collected the plates,‘ Oh dear, how time flies. Thanks, Mrs M. Much appreciated.’

  ‘I’ll second that.’ Marie smiled at him. ‘About tonight, I feel quite . . .’ She paused.

  ‘Excited? Apprehensive?’

  ‘Bit of each, I suppose. This mission of Rosie’s could provide a lot of information, but at the same time, men who do that sort of thing make me feel almost homicidal, as well as sick to my stomach.’ Marie made a disgusted face.

  ‘I empathise with that, believe me. That’s why we have to nail them, as soon as we can.’

  Marie nodded. ‘Yes, I know. I just hope that we are not sending Rosie into a situation that’s too dangerous.’

  ‘We’ll all be close by. If she has the slightest trouble, that club won’t know what hit it.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘But I get the feeling that she will just test the waters tonight. She’ll gather as much intelligence as she can without blowing her cover, and leave with an option to return, should it be necessary.’ He smiled at Marie. ‘For once, I don’t share your concerns. I think Rosie will be ace at this. She’s done undercover before and apparently very well.’

  Perhaps it was their two genders that was the cause of this rare difference of opinion between her and Jackman. Marie fervently hoped she was wrong, and it would be Jackman saying, “I told you so!”

  ‘Now, would you like a coffee before we plan tonight’s strategy?’

  ‘Perfect, thank you.’ Marie took a deep breath and decided that as the evening was going to go ahead anyway, she might as well be prepared. ‘Let’s get it sorted.’

  * * *

  As ten o’clock approached, Jackman began to feel the same mix of apprehension and excitement. The arrangement was far from perfect. As they had no idea where they were going, they couldn’t plan a suitable recce, or back-up. They were going to have to wing it.

  Rosie, wearing an outfit that would have scandalised Jackman on any other occasion, stared unblinking at Chloe’s phone, willing it to ring.

  Marie paced the CID room, as did Max Cohen. In fact, Jackman thought, Max was even more worried than Marie, which was not like him. Usually he loved this sort of thing.

  ‘Bingo!’ whispered Rosie and grabbed the mobile.

  Everyone held their collective breaths.


  ‘Jubilee Lane, the old rowing club near the mill.’ Rosie snapped the phone shut and jumped up. ‘Anyone know it? Because I don’t.’

  ‘Relax, flower,’ said Max, feeding the data into his computer. ‘It’s only about twenty minutes away, on the road to Harlan Marsh. I used to go fishing near there with a mate of mine. The mill is derelict and all sealed up. I’m getting a satellite picture of the area now.’

  ‘As far as I remember, the clubhouse is closed too. There was a fire there a few years back and they moved the rowing club to new premises.’ Jackman nodded to himself. ‘There are no residences in the lane, and everything else is abandoned, so it’s the perfect place for a party.’ He turned to Gary. ‘Go and give uniform the exact location. I want a unit well out of the way, but close enough should we need them. And softly, softly, please. No blues and twos under any circumstances.’

  ‘Here we go.’ Max brought up an aerial view of the rundown clubhouse, and scanned the surroundings. ‘If we drop Rosie here,’ he pointed to a narrow lane, ‘she could walk through and tie up with the main path to the venue. I should think most of the partygoers will come from this direction, from the main road.’ He traced his finger further along the river edge. ‘I think we could find some pretty good cover along the towpath and around the mill. We need to be as close as possible.’

  Jackman straightened up. ‘I agree. Everyone ready? So let’s get out there. Rosie? Still up for it?’

  ‘Am I ever! Bring it on.’

  Jackman smiled at those bright intelligent eyes looking out from behind false eyelashes. Rosie’s choice of clothing and clever make-up made her look about sixteen. The only one of them who wasn’t all revved up was Marie. She had said pretty well nothing since they’d arrived. It worried Jackman, but he knew that she would be behind them all the way if the shit were to hit the fan.

  ‘Check her wire, Max. We can’t afford to lose contact.’

  ‘Already done, guv. And it’s not standard issue. I’ve adapted it myself. It’s top of the range. She has the best signal and range available.’