by Deborah Lucy
‘Where’s your phone? Your mobile, where is it?’
She looked around her, found it by the sink and gave it to him. Looking through the grubby screen he found China’s number and rang it. There was no answer. He sent the number to his own phone.
Just then, Temple heard the front door slam shut. A Staffordshire bull terrier padded its way down the hall and came trotting into the kitchen, followed by its tall, shaven-headed owner. The rolled-up sleeves of his shirt revealed a brightly inked eagle and dragon tattoo that extended all the way to his neck. His slim but strong physique was no doubt a result of twice-weekly visits to the gym. In his hand he carried a Tesco bag containing two large bottles of cider and a cheap bottle of vodka, which he set down on the floor.
‘Who the fuck are you?’ he asked, eyeing Temple, not welcoming the sight of a stranger. He slammed a chain-link dog lead onto the only available space on a kitchen worktop to mark his displeasure. ‘I thought I fucking told you,’ he said to Barbara. ‘You don’t let anyone in here.’
‘It’s the police, Gary, and he’s just going – he’s here about your sister.’ Barbara Lewis was suddenly animated, going towards the bag.
‘I’m looking for China.’ Temple faced Gary Lewis, who continued to eye him.
‘Oh yeah?’ His features were sharp, his nose and chin protruding from his face as if they were trying to get away from it. He tipped his head back slightly so that he could look at Temple through half closed eyes.
‘When was the last time you saw her?’
‘I don’t have to talk to you.’ Gary Lewis drew his shoulders back as he spoke.
‘When, Gary? As soon as you tell me, I can get the fuck out of here.’
‘A few days ago.’
‘You see, your mother says she hasn’t been here for weeks. So which is it, Gary? Days or weeks?’
‘This silly cow’s confused. We haven’t seen her for a few days, that’s all.’
‘How come you haven’t reported her missing?’
‘Because she’s not.’ Lewis couldn’t believe his mother had let a fucking copper in the house. Stupid drunken bitch couldn’t be trusted. He wanted Temple out. More than that, he wanted this copper to stop poking around, which he would if his mother would keep her mouth shut.
‘So which of you two is telling the truth? Your sister China was last seen by a friend three days ago. Your mother says she hasn’t seen her for weeks and doesn’t want her here. Who’s she been staying with if she’s not been here?’
‘I don’t know where she’s been staying. With a friend, I suppose. I don’t know where she is. Look, she’s not fucking missing all right and that silly cow there doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She’s around; she’s probably been back here without us knowing.’
‘Where did you last see her?’ asked Temple, watching as Gary Lewis looked at him through his small, slit-like eyes. As Temple kept eye contact with Lewis, he was suddenly conscious that he could feel the dog’s snout sniffing closely at his shins.
‘Here. The little cow fucked off with some money of mine. I’ll find her, don’t worry. I’ll get her back. She’s only local, people have seen her. They’ve told me. You can stop looking for her – she’s not missing. Now get out, copper, there must be some traffic you can go and play with.’
Ignoring his offer to leave, Temple was trying to work out what to do if the dog attacked him.
‘What people? Who?’
‘Just people, people like her friends. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, she’s not missing. Now fuck off out of it.’ Lewis started to twitch his shoulders. He didn’t want any police looking for China. He could handle it himself.
‘Has she ever run away before?’ Temple persisted.
‘She’s always running. We just haven’t bothered reporting it because she always turns up. Now, I said fuck off.’ Lewis leaned in towards Temple and an eager growl sprouted from the dog, whose gaze seemed to be fixed on his calf. Temple looked down. The dog was a solid mass of muscle. He didn’t fancy its jaws clamping onto one of his legs if it was incited by Gary Lewis.
‘You need to let me know if she comes back.’ Temple left his card on top of the dog lead and left the house. Perhaps this was still two friends giving the police the runaround, but from what he’d seen, he wouldn’t be happy until he’d seen China Lewis for himself.
Chapter 5
‘Kostya, we have to inform the police. She’s been missing for four days now. No one has seen her.’ Darya Petrenko’s anguished face betrayed any attempts not to panic as she pleaded with her husband. She’d give everything she had just to have her daughter back. And that was it – it seemed he would not.
She couldn’t eat or sleep with the worry. Her daughter had never run away before, but the driver said that when he dropped her off on the last day before the half-term break, instead of going through the wrought-iron gates into the grounds of the £15,000-a-term school, she had turned and run in the opposite direction, leaving him to watch her in his rear-view mirror.
He had explained to her that the traffic of Bentleys and Porsches dropping off had prevented him from reversing and driving after Katya. Despite his anti-kidnap and hostile-environment training, by the time he had got out of the car to run after her, he couldn’t see where she had gone. It was the last thing he had thought would happen that morning.
Avoiding looking at his wife’s pale, agonised face, Kostya Petrenko paced around the plush drawing room. For the first time in his life he was unsure what to do, but he was equally aware that he shouldn’t show signs of weakness, not now, not even to Darya. He reminded himself he was a very successful businessman, a multi-millionaire. He had provided his family with every luxury and he couldn’t understand why his thirteen-year-old daughter Katya would go missing.
Kostya made sure that she had everything. He even made sure she wasn’t contaminated by the toxic London air, as he saw to it that she was ferried everywhere in an armoured black limousine. He’d tried to see to it that she was virtually hermetically sealed so that no contaminants touched her life. And now this. But the timing of it couldn’t be worse for him.
‘I cannot inform the police. You know why. I have people out looking for her. They will find her. She will quickly miss her life here with us and return, I’m certain of it.’
‘How can you put your business interests before your own flesh and blood? Your daughter went out of that door four days ago and we haven’t seen or heard from her since. What kind of man are you, Kostya?’ Darya spat back in Russian, her face wet with angry tears.
‘And just how do you think it will look to the people I have to make the deal with? They will think that I can’t even control my own family, my own daughter, so why would they do business with me? I sign the contract on Friday. If she hasn’t returned by then, I will inform the police on Saturday. More time, that’s all I ask.’
‘You are inhuman!’ she screamed at him.
He was as concerned as she was, but the last thing he wanted was to involve the police. His wealth had bought him an exclusive address and privacy, and he risked all of that by reporting Katya’s disappearance to the police. He had no intention of letting police officers through the front door of his Belgravia house to poke their noses into his world. He could imagine their questions, them searching his home, taking his laptop away, asking about his business dealings, his money. Invading their private space. The thought of it appalled him as much as thinking of Katya on the streets of London.
He decided that he would go to the Russian Embassy if Katya hadn’t returned by Friday – after he’d signed the contract on his latest business for financial consultancy services. In the meantime, his security staff would comb the streets looking for Katya. He was sure they would find her. They had to. Until then, he had to control Darya.
He walked to her and put his arm around her. She pushed him off and ran up the stairs shrieking at the top of her voice. He had secreted her mobile phone so he knew she co
uldn’t make any covert calls to the police. They just had to sit tight and wait.
When Katya came back, no doubt he would find out that she’d run away due to some imaginary slight she felt and had wanted to frighten them. But Darya was becoming hysterical and it unnerved him. He wondered if this whole thing was some kind of test to see how he’d react. But he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out in Darya’s company; she was making him nervous.
He even wondered at first if his new business partners had kidnapped Katya, but he had the evidence from the dashcam that clearly showed her running off on her own. And there’d been no ransom demand. Although not all his, he had hundreds of millions of pounds sitting in the bank. Why did that not guarantee things like this wouldn’t happen to him?
His eyes fell onto a gold photo frame of Katya. She was very slight and looked younger than her thirteen years. She had access to money; she had her own bank account where a monthly allowance was paid. It had never occurred to him that she might be exploited, but right then it did. He’d already checked it and saw that two days ago she had withdrawn £250 from an ATM at Paddington station.
* * *
Temple sat in the head teacher’s office at the Park Academy. It was the first day back from the autumn half-term break and the school was buzzing with the noise of 300 pupils.
Approaching him through the door in kitten heels was Amy Davidson, the best friend of China Lewis who had reported her missing. She was medium height and slim, wearing a too-short blue school skirt, a tight white shirt, blue blazer and school tie that hung in a lazy knot more like a necklace. In contravention of the school no make-up policy, she was wearing lots of near-orange foundation and under strongly defined eyebrows were heavily lashed eyes. She had a tiny diamond nose piercing and pale lipstick. The handles of a large pink handbag nestled in the crook of her arm.
‘Have you found her yet?’ She barked the question, aiming it straight at Temple without waiting for introductions.
Her voice was loaded with attitude and had little of the strong West Country twang of the other pupils. Amy had made slavish efforts to eradicate it to sound more like the people she followed on social media, more Estuary. She hoped it would make her sound as if she meant business, particularly in this scenario surrounded by adults.
She shot a look of barely disguised loathing at an accompanying teacher who had followed behind her. Sitting in a chair opposite Temple, she crossed her legs, which had her skirt rising further up her thighs. She couldn’t care less. All she wanted was to find China.
Temple introduced himself. The teacher stood in the open doorway, as if to bar Amy’s escape.
‘No. I’ve been to speak to her mother and to see if she’d returned home,’ Temple explained. He knew he had to get her onside somehow as she could be a valuable source of information.
‘That’s a waste of fucking time,’ Amy spat. Her association with China had given her confidence and she’d taken on board some of her best friend’s attitude. The teacher nevertheless admonished her for swearing. Amy took advantage of Temple’s presence and flashed her a look of contempt.
‘Tell me what you know, Amy. When did you last see China? I want to find your friend. I’m very interested in what you have to say.’
She pulled a face at the teacher. ‘I’m glad someone is.’ Amy warmed to being taken seriously and Temple made sure she had his full attention. He knew he could be dealing with a heap of teenage hormones, jealousies and petty arguments, but given what he had witnessed at Barbara Lewis’s house, he was ready to hear what Amy had to say.
She focused on Temple. ‘I last saw her three days ago and I’ve heard nothing from her since.’ As he questioned her, he wrote in his small notebook.
‘Where did you see her?’
‘Round at my house. She stays with me, sleeps over.’
‘How frequently would you say she stays over, Amy?’
‘Oh loads. All the time. And we’re always on the phone, texting, FaceTiming, Snapchat and now nothing. It’s like she’s not there.’
‘So you’re very close, you and China?’
‘Yes, we’re more like sisters than friends.’ It was true; they shared most things in the confines of their private world in Amy’s bedroom. Clothes, shoes, make-up, secrets. But Amy felt that lately China seemed to be holding back.
‘What time did you see her? When exactly did she leave yours?’
‘She went about seven-thirty last Friday, in the evening. Said she was going into town – only that, “going into town”. Said she’d be back.’
‘So what did you take that to mean?’
‘That she was going into Swindon.’
‘So you were expecting her to stay at yours last Friday, three nights ago?’
‘Yeah. She didn’t come back that night and I haven’t seen or heard from her since. When she didn’t turn up for school this morning, I called you lot. ’Cos someone’s gotta care about her, for fuck’s sake.’ Amy shot another look at the teacher standing in the doorway listening, daring her to admonish her again for swearing.
‘Could she be staying somewhere else? With another friend? Her mother says she hasn’t seen her but her brother Gary says that people have seen her and he is looking for her,’ said Temple. Amy was put out by the suggestion that China would have another friend that she could stay with.
‘We’re best mates, she only stays at mine. And she wouldn’t go back home. She’s run away from there. That’s the last place she’d go.’
‘Why’s that, Amy? Why doesn’t China want to go home?’
‘Her brother. Gary fucking Lewis. She hates him. I hate him.’
‘And why would that be?’ he asked gently.
She looked from Temple to the teacher still in the doorway. ‘He controls her. He’s a nasty bastard. She’s missing because of him.’
‘Does he hurt her? Is that what you’re saying?’
‘Oh, he hurts her all right. I’m not saying any more in front of her.’ She gestured at the teacher. Then she looked back at Temple. Suddenly, pricks of angry tears sprang in her eyes, betraying her hard facade. Quickly blinking them away, she leaned forward, pointing her finger at him.
‘Now – you find my mate.’
Temple told Amy he would arrange for a video statement to be recorded from her that afternoon at Gable Cross police station with female officers. Satisfied, Amy stood up and walked away, pushing past the teacher standing in the doorway. Temple heard her kitten heels clack on the wooden floor as she left. He was a little frustrated Amy had clammed up – he needed to know what she knew about Gary Lewis.
Having spoken to the head teacher, he established that China was a frequent truant, with letters to her mother going unanswered. The school had no direct means of contacting Barbara Lewis other than by letter and so another was already in the post to her, asking her to explain where her daughter was after not showing up after the half-term break.
Academically, China was described as bright but lazy, not showing the slightest interest in lessons. School was a means of meeting up with her friends and socialising through the day. She had little time for teachers and the school in general, and it seemed they had little time for her.
Temple still couldn’t be sure he wasn’t being given the runaround. But Amy hadn’t flinched when he invited her back to the station for a video interview. Between her mother, brother and teachers, Amy seemed to be the only one who cared about China’s whereabouts right now. And what was Gary Lewis’s part in this, insisting that China wasn’t missing? Missing or not, he had to find out.
Chapter 6
Back in the office he shared, Temple set about emailing and texting a photo of China that Amy had sent to him to the PCSOs and police mobile units, telling them to circulate her image, ask around for information and look out for her during patrol. The photo showed China with short bleached-blonde hair, her long fringe swept to one side, wearing a bright pink jumper. She was pouting a moody pose for the camera. As h
e looked at her, he was reminded that she didn’t look too much older than his own daughter, Daisy. He’d seen many such attempts by Daisy on her phone to emulate the same pose that China had seemingly perfected.
He was suddenly conscious of the time and looking up at the clock, he knew he had to keep his appointment with Deputy Chief Constable Buller regarding the outcome of his disciplinary investigation, before he could watch Amy’s video interview. He wasn’t looking forward to it; he hated exchanges with senior officers at the best of times. He wasn’t good at fawning, as was generally expected by the higher ranks. ‘Just play the game’ colleagues often told him, but he couldn’t.
The general consensus was that chief officers were a different breed. Their well-honed sense of self- and pension-preservation seemed to take priority above all else. The so-called College of Policing Strategic Command Course had a lot to answer for in churning out these clones, but whatever else took place to train chief officers, one thing he knew for sure: it included a form of yoga that was so far advanced that no matter what their size or shape, it showed them how to shove their heads right up their own arses.
Temple was sick of being under investigation and being kept away from detective duties. It would have been a senior officer decision by someone somewhere to put him back into uniform duties. That, he felt, had been punitive, particularly as there was a shortage of detective officers in the force.
And as much as it rankled with him, he knew he now relied on a positive outcome from his meeting with the DCC if he was ever going to get back to CID duties. He was hoping Buller would tell him the investigation was over and that he would receive ‘management advice’. That was what his Police Federation Rep had advised might happen. But Temple’s paranoia was rampant and the reality was chief officers were a capricious bunch. As he went along to Buller’s office, he didn’t know what outcome to expect. Perhaps now was the time for him to ‘play the game’ if he wanted his job back in CID.
From behind the computer screen on his desk, Buller indicated with his head for Temple to take a seat at the round meeting table in the corner of his office. Recently promoted, Buller assumed the superior demeanour of a man who was comfortable and confident in his new position.