THEIR LOST DAUGHTERS a gripping crime thriller with a huge twist

by Joy Ellis

  ‘Interesting, isn’t it? So far, none of them are high-profile cases or local mispers.’

  ‘Emily was local,’ said Max. ‘So obviously the killer was getting more confident.’

  ‘Then, thank God we found his lair when we did. Good work, Max.’ Marie patted him on the shoulder. ‘Anything more in the pipeline?’

  ‘Well, everything we have is now on the Police National Computer, so they could get more hits at any moment.’

  ‘Then maybe you should take the opportunity to get home?’

  ‘I’m trying to find out more about Fleur, our really old skeleton, Sarge, the one with the badly broken ankle. Because of her age I’m certainly not having as much luck as the others, but I’d like to keep at it for a while longer.’ Max typed in another search. ‘Plus I’d quite like to see if the PNC coughs up anything interesting over the next hour or so. We’ve sent out some pretty motivating enquiries.’

  ‘Okay, but don’t stay all night, kiddo.’

  As Marie went to the coffee machine she wondered about Max’s social life. Did he even have one? Despite his striking good looks, Marie got the impression that Max’s ideal night in would consist of a takeaway, a pot of coffee, and fast broadband.

  Carefully balancing three hot polystyrene beakers, Marie placed one next to Max, and took the other two back to Jackman’s office.

  Jackman was just replacing the phone as she went in. He seemed edgy all of a sudden. ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘Everything.’ On his face was a mixture of anger and mystification. ‘Elizabeth Sewell is being transferred, but I’ve just been speaking to the FMO out at Harlan Marsh, and told him it’s imperative that we interview Micah Lee. He says the man’s mind is in a state of flux. One minute he’s lucid and reasonable, the next he’s climbing the walls.’ Jackman glowered at the phone. ‘I don’t have the time to go there and sodding well sit around waiting for one of his “reasonable” moments.’

  ‘Couldn’t an officer from Harlan Marsh do it for you? Someone who is on hand to monitor Lee’s moods?’

  ‘What, you’d actually trust someone from Cade’s manor, would you?’ Jackman barked.

  ‘I trust Gary,’ she said quietly. ‘So I’d trust anyone Gary vouched for. They can’t all be bent, can they? One rotten apple won’t have contaminated the whole barrel.’

  Jackman put his head in his hands. ‘You’re right. Sorry, Marie. Ask Gary to come in, would you?’ He sat up straight. ‘In fact, get the whole team together in the CID room. We need to talk.’

  * * *

  Jackman perched on the edge of a desk in front of one of the white-boards. Down one side of the board was a list of the victims. Full names, photographs and the places where they disappeared were being added minute by minute. Already they had photos of Tessa Avery, Sophie Berry, Hebe Brock, and just a few seconds ago, Annie Crane and Lucy O’Connell had been added.

  At the top of the board was the name Windrush, and below that, Benedict Broome, Elizabeth Sewell and Micah Lee.

  Jackman stood up and pointed to the name Elizabeth. ‘This woman is a direct link to the Children’s Ward. However, we already know from Rory that some of the dead girls had been seriously assaulted using a great deal of force, and possibly raped, so that means that either she had an accomplice, or her involvement is in some way,’ he shrugged, ‘accidental.’

  ‘But she is connected to Broome, and to Lee, by virtue of his being employed by Broome.’ Marie pursed her lips. ‘So what if her employer asked her to print out some labels? She’d do it, wouldn’t she? And she’d not necessarily be aware of what they were?’

  ‘That,’ said Jackman, ‘is what I mean by accidental. And maybe she’d do it for a friend too. We need to talk to her as soon as she’s been assessed at Saltern Hall. Meanwhile, Gary, I need to find a trustworthy senior detective at Harlan Marsh, someone who would interview Lee for us, and preferably without Chief Superintendent Cade knowing. Is there such an officer?’

  ‘Only one that I know of, sir. DI Jim Salmon.’

  ‘Jim Salmon? The same guy who used to be our dog handler years back? He’s a detective now?’ Jackman’s eyes widened. ‘Perfect, I’ll ring him as soon as we’ve finished.’

  He turned back to the board. ‘So who else have we spoken to?’

  ‘Broome’s gardener, boss. Bloke named Len Curtis.’ Max looked at his notebook. ‘Funny sort. It was hard to get him to string two words together. But he has been out to Windrush a few times, with messages or deliveries for Micah Lee, and he only lives a couple of miles from Roman Creek.’

  Jackman wrote the name on the board. ‘Who else?’

  ‘Philip Groves, the vet who lives a short way from Windrush, on the edge of the marsh. And two other neighbours, a bird-watcher called Ralph Jenkins, and a couple called Ernie and Betty Coulter,’ said Rosie.

  ‘And we spoke to Bill Hickey, the farm manager where Micah Lee lodges.’

  Jackman paused. ‘But the farmer was away. What was his name, Gary?’

  ‘Toby Tanner, sir. He’s expected back from Germany tomorrow, according to Hickey.’

  ‘Is that it?’

  ‘No, sir,’ said Charlie. ‘There were several other people living in the Roman Creek area that uniform saw, but most were elderly women, apart from a couple who have a holiday let a bit further up the coast road. No one they’d pay a second visit to, and all the so-called “neighbours” are well scattered over a very large area. Windrush is quite remote.’

  Marie raised her hand. ‘Maybe we should include Asher Leyton in the list of people we’ve spoken to. It’s a very vague connection, but he did know of Shauna Kelly and she has definitely been placed at one of those parties. Plus we also know he has a penchant for talking to street girls.’

  Jackman added Asher Leyton’s name.

  ‘Okay, so we go back and talk to Benedict Broome, Elizabeth Sewell and Micah Lee. And on a different tack we hit the drinking club again.’

  As there were other officers in the room, he kept strictly to the abducted girls, Toni and Emily, and the victims of the Children’s Ward. ‘The organisers may have nothing directly to do with the abductions, but we need them brought in, questioned, and those damned parties brought to an end.’

  He looked around at the tired faces staring back at him. ‘Now, all of you who can, get yourselves home and get some rest. We start again tomorrow.’

  * * *

  ‘That guy is one serious fruitcake,’ said the Harlan Marsh custody officer as he closed the door of the interview room. ‘Well, he’s all yours, and the best of British in trying to get any sense out of him.’

  DI Jim Salmon wondered if he had been a little too quick to agree to help out DI Jackman. He’d already heard that Chief Superintendent Cade had tried to interview Mad Micah, and had had to abort the attempt almost immediately. He just prayed that Cade wouldn’t get to hear about this particular effort. At least the chief was off duty until the morning.

  Along with his sergeant, DS Terry Langer, and a social worker hastily acquired from the duty roster to safeguard the prisoner’s interests, Jim reluctantly entered the small room.

  Micah Lee sat bolt upright, his eyes wide and staring, and his nostrils flaring with anger.

  Jim Salmon looked at Micah and decided that Jackman owed him bigtime.

  With a deep sigh, he switched on the tape and made the introductions.

  ‘Mr Lee, we need to talk to you about an underground room beneath the property called Windrush at Roman Creek. That is the property belonging to Mr Benedict Broome, and where you have been working for some time.’ Jim kept his voice even and quiet. He knew that Micah would react badly to any show of assertiveness.

  ‘We are interviewing you because of your knowledge of the layout of Windrush, Mr Lee. Having worked on it for so long, we feel that you may be able to help us.’

  ‘What room? I don’t know about any underground room!’ boomed Micah.

  Jim saw a vein pulsing in the side of Micah’s head.
<
br />   ‘Surely you know that there is a tunnel leading from the back of the main house out towards the old barn and the storeroom, and that there is an underground room beneath them?’

  The big man looked like a caged animal. He chewed furiously on his bottom lip, and drummed his fingers frantically on the table top. ‘I don’t know of any tunnel. No, no tunnel.’

  Jim attempted a smile. ‘Okay, but do you know—?’

  A keening howl suddenly erupted from Micah’s lips and reverberated around the tiny room. They all leapt up, Jim’s chair fell backwards, and the social worker uttered a little scream.

  Then, before anyone could move, Micah took a series of ragged, gasping breaths and pitched forward onto the floor.

  Jim hit the panic button. ‘Get help!’ he yelled, and threw himself to his knees beside the unconscious Micah. ‘We need an ambulance.’

  ‘The duty doctor is in the building,’ called Langer. ‘He was dealing with a junkie as we came in.’ He ran for the door. ‘I’ll get him.’

  The doctor was at Micah’s side in minutes.

  ‘It’s probably some kind of panic attack. He’s sweaty and tachycardic. He may well have hyperventilated, causing him to faint, but,’ the doctor checked Micah’s pulse again, ‘we need to get him to the hospital to be checked out properly. I’m not just covering our backs, Detective Inspector Salmon, I’m not at all happy with his condition. There could well be a neurological reason for this and we can’t risk leaving it.’

  ‘Ambulance is on its way, boss.’ The sergeant leant around the door. ‘And uniform are organising an escort.’ He stared down at Micah. ‘I can’t say I’ll be sad to see that one go. He’s one scary guy!’

  As the stretcher was hoisted into the back of the ambulance, Jim wondered how he was going to tell DI Jackman that he’d inadvertently hospitalised his prisoner. And even worse, how would Chief Cade react when he found out?

  * * *

  It was very late by the time Jackman and Marie concluded Benedict Broome’s second interview. He had politely but vehemently denied any knowledge of work ever having been carried out from an underground tunnel. He told them he knew nothing of any such tunnel. He also denied any knowledge of the name cards allegedly written by his housekeeper.

  In the end, they called it a day. Jackman had decided to keep quiet about the killer’s singing. He agreed with Marie that it would be best to keep that piece of information to themselves until they could use it more effectively.

  ‘I wonder if Broome was a choirboy,’ mused Marie as they left the interview room. ‘But he didn’t grow up around here, so it would be hard to find out.’

  ‘Worth a try though.’ Jackman punched in the security number and flung the door open. ‘But right now, we all need sleep. Go check the team, Marie, and pack whoever is left off to their homes and their beds. Then I suggest you gather up your new lodger and get home yourself.’ He smiled at her. ‘And how is your new role as landlady going?’

  ‘Brilliantly! Gary actually does a cooked breakfast before he goes to work! He’s perfectly house-trained, a wizard in the kitchen, and frankly I’m thinking of keeping him on.’

  ‘Ah, then my Mrs M. had better watch out. Even I don’t get breakfasts.’

  Marie grinned, and was about to say more when Jackman’s mobile sounded.

  ‘Ah, Jim! What have you got for me?’

  Marie saw Jackman’s expression drop.

  ‘Shit! How the hell . . . ? Oh well, not your fault, Jim. I’m just sorry to have put you through it. They’ve taken him to the Pilgrim Hospital in Boston? Yeah, but make sure he’s watched twenty-four/seven, and two officers at all times. Have you got the manpower for that, or shall I get you some back-up? Right, well, thanks for trying. Night, Jim. Oh, and any aggro from your chief, refer him to me, okay?’

  He closed the phone and stared grimly at Marie. ‘Micah Lee categorically denied knowing about any tunnels or underground rooms, and then he collapsed. He’s been taken in for neurological evaluation. That puts two of our three suspects out of our direct supervision, and I don’t like that one bit.’

  Marie agreed, but right now, she could barely think straight. She was exhausted. ‘I’ll go sort out the others, then I’ll see you in the morning, sir. Let’s see what tomorrow brings, shall we?’

  ‘And speaking of the morning, Benedict Broome is supposed to either be released or charged at eight a.m., so I’d better get someone round to the magistrate for an extension. And considering what’s beneath that man’s property, I’ll go on getting bloody extensions until we have the truth.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  After a restless night, Jackman rose early and, taking a leaf out of Gary’s book, cooked himself a proper breakfast. He was locking the door to Mill Corner when his mobile rang.

  ‘Marie? Surely you’re not at work already?’

  ‘I am. I’m sorry to start your day like this, but we’ve got a problem.’

  ‘What’s wrong now?’

  ‘Micah Lee has done a runner from the hospital.’

  ‘What! How the hell did that happen?’

  ‘It was no one’s fault really, sir, apart perhaps from underestimating his strength.’

  Jackman jumped into his car and slammed the door. It was always someone’s fault when a prisoner got away. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, it was after they’d got themselves into hospital. ‘Okay, tell me. Just don’t say someone left their post to go to the sodding toilet or blood may flow.’

  ‘No, nothing like that. They thought he was unconscious when they took him down to radiology for a scan. There were two constables and two nurses with him, but as he came out of the scanner and they went to replace the restraints, he went ballistic. He’s badly hurt one of the Boston men, concussed the other, and laid out both nurses.’

  ‘No!’ Jackman’s anger turned to concern. ‘How badly hurt?’

  ‘Suspected fractured skull, sir. Apparently he smashed their heads together. PC Bladon came off worst. PC Smythe is mildly concussed.’

  ‘And the hospital staff?’

  ‘Shaken up and bruised, but no serious injury.’

  ‘So where did he go? Was CCTV operational?’

  ‘Yes. He was seen at the rear of the hospital where he accosted a porter, took his clothes and his wallet, then went over the hospital wall and made off through residential gardens and fields towards the West Fen Catchwater Drain.’

  ‘So we’ve lost him?’

  Jackman heard an intake of breath, then a sigh. ‘We lost him.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll be there in fifteen. Get me a very strong black coffee and we’ll re-group.’

  Jackman hung up and gave a bitter laugh. For a while there, he’d actually been thinking today might go better!

  * * *

  When Jackman reached the murder room, his anger had dissipated, and he was left with a feeling of things slipping away from him.

  Marie was the only person in the big room, and she looked about as cheerful as he felt.

  She held out a coffee and said, ‘Max left a note to say that two more victims have been unofficially identified via the PNC. We need the lab results to be certain, but their first names and DOBs match. One is a youngster from Bristol called Corrie Anderson, and the other girl, Charlotte King, is from Hull.’

  ‘And neither rings a bell. Our killer always took low-profile missing persons from different locations, didn’t he? No one who was ever plastered across the tabloids or made the media in a big way.’

  ‘Jackman,’ Marie stared at him with a perplexed expression. ‘I’m thinking about those dates of birth. What is it about being born on a Wednesday that made them a candidate for death?’

  Jackman’s head shook slowly from side to side. ‘We’ll only know that when the case is over. And right now, I think we’d better concentrate on trying to capture Mad Micah, don’t you?’ He drew in a deep breath. ‘And while we wait for the others to get in, will you ring the psychiatric hospital for me and see if
Elizabeth is fit enough to interview?’

  Marie went to get the number. As she flicked through her file, she said, ‘So where do you think Micah will have gone?’

  The million-dollar question. ‘If Benedict Broome were free, I would have laid good money on Micah going to him, but . . .’

  ‘Would he go home, do you think? If he’s mentally unstable maybe he needs a familiar place?’

  ‘But surely he knows we’ll be watching? There are already uniformed officers at the farm. And Windrush is crawling with police and forensics.’

  Jackman could still see the anger in Micah’s craggy, ugly face when they arrived to search Windrush. Maybe his anguish had been because he had known, even then, that it was the beginning of the end for the Children’s Ward.

  Marie hung up. ‘You have a green light, sir. They are a bit iffy, but it’s okay as long as her doctor sits in, and we keep the interview short.’

  Jackman thought for a moment. ‘I’m wondering if it might be prudent if you went, and took Rosie with you. If this woman is so fragile, perhaps having a man asking the questions is not the best strategy.’

  ‘You could be right, sir, and as I just saw Rosie coming in, we’ll get off before the doctors change their minds.’

  * * *

  Marie and Rosie hurried from the car park and up to the heavy glass doors of Saltern Hall Psychiatric Hospital. Marie pushed the intercom button and announced their names. The door hummed and the catch released.

  There were no rattling key chains, metal locks or clanging iron doors, just pass cards and security number pads.