‘So if the children had indeed been taken by a killer you would be right to expect to have found a body by now …’ Anna continued to think out loud. ‘But if he’s taking them with the intention of abusing them, then perhaps he hasn’t killed them yet.’
‘He would have, by now.’
‘Why?’
‘To get rid of any witnesses,’ Sean answered coldly.
‘Possibly,’ she considered.
‘Definitely,’ he insisted, McKenzie’s face and words imprinted in his mind.
‘Then there’s a simple conclusion,’ Anna told him. ‘They were neither taken by a killer nor by an abuser. They were taken by a possessor.’
‘A possessor?’ Sean questioned. ‘I don’t understand,’ he half-lied.
‘Someone who means them no harm, but who wants to possess them, keep them as their own, perhaps?’
‘Like who?’
‘Like … like a woman.’
‘A woman?’
‘Yes, one who perhaps sees these children as needing her. She may see herself as their rescuer, not their abuser. Tell me, do the families have other children?’
‘Yes,’ he answered. ‘Why?’
‘Interesting. It could be a sign of her subconscious guilt – she takes a child, but leaves the family with other children, which also explains why she secures the houses when leaving and perhaps how she can get the children from the house without them being scared enough to raise the alarm. Children are inherently less afraid of women than they are men.’
‘No,’ Sean shook his head. ‘A lot of what you’re saying makes sense, but I can’t see a woman picking the locks and entering those houses – I just can’t.’
‘We’re capable of more than you think, Sean,’ Anna told him. ‘But I take your point: house-breaking would be a highly unusual crime for a woman.’ They sat in silence for a while. ‘So perhaps there are two people working together – a man and a woman. She selects the children, possibly at random, but more likely because she knows them somehow, and he takes them for her. A childless couple who have no hope of having their own, perhaps?’
‘That’s interesting,’ Sean told her, but his unexcited eyes told her she wasn’t offering him anything new.
‘No, it’s not,’ she replied. ‘You’d already considered it.’
‘Maybe,’ he admitted with a shrug.
‘Then why don’t you tell me why you’re really here?’
Her question was met only with the piercing blue of his eyes.
‘Can I get you a drink? Tea or coffee, perhaps?’ she asked, needing some respite from Sean’s intensity.
‘No thanks,’ he answered, watching her stand and straighten her charcoal grey pencil skirt, her small, heavy breasts moving slightly under her white blouse.
‘I need a drink of water,’ she told him, walking to the small water-cooler in the corner of her office, standing with her back to him as she took her time filling the plastic cup. She heard the creaking of his chair as he rose, felt the distance between them close as he came to her, standing too close behind her, making her tremble. She pushed herself back into him when she felt his arm curl around her waist, unable to control urges she’d long been pretending to herself she didn’t have.
‘Made you feel alive, didn’t it?’ he whispered into her ear. ‘Being around me and the others – a real-life murder investigation – hardly ever sleeping or eating, your only thought to catch the bastard that took those women. Killed those women. Everything else in your life suddenly seemed trivial and futile.’
‘Maybe,’ she whispered back. ‘It was … it was …’
‘Thrilling,’ he answered for her. ‘It thrilled you. But now everything’s back to normal, just like it used to be. Only it never can be, not for you. You need more now. You always will.’
‘You’re right,’ she admitted. ‘You’re right. I need more.’
He pulled her closer so he could feel her chest rising and falling, the curves of her back pressing against his body as her buttocks fitted into his groin making his testicles curl and tense as his penis began to flush with blood – his arm tightening around her waist as the other slipped around her chest and cupped one breast releasing her sweet warm breath as she sighed and turned to face him. She gripped his face in her hands, pulling his mouth on to hers, biting softly on his lower lip while her right leg rose and curled around his thighs, locking them tighter together. His tongue entered her mouth and she imagined it exploring the place between her legs, imagined him inside her as they moved as one on the floor of her office or across her desk. But without warning her conscience betrayed her and defeated her desire. She untwined her leg and pushed against his chest with both hands, pulling her lips, swollen with passion, away from his searching mouth. ‘No,’ she told him. ‘This is wrong. We can’t do this.’
‘Yes we can,’ he argued, still searching for her warm breath.
‘We’re both married, Sean,’ she reminded him. ‘We can’t do this. It’s wrong.’
He detected the change in her voice – in her breathing − and knew the passion had passed. ‘Christ,’ he told her. ‘Can’t we just do something we want, instead of what people expect of us for once? Nobody needs to know.’
‘We’ll know,’ she told him. ‘We’ll know, Sean.’ She pushed him harder, increasing the distance between them until it was obvious their brief affair was already over, although their hands still rested gently on each other. ‘I want to, but I won’t,’ she continued. ‘We could do this and I’d be fine. I could go home tonight and I’d be fine. I’d wake up in the morning and I’d be fine. But you wouldn’t be, Sean – you wouldn’t be fine.’
‘You don’t know me as well as you think you do,’ he argued.
‘I know you well enough.’
‘Is that your professional opinion or your personal one?’
‘Both,’ she told him, any trace of passion gone from her voice. ‘If we were to do this it would destroy you, Sean, and everything you are.’ He looked at her blankly. ‘Don’t you understand? It’s your wife and family that anchor you. Without them you’d be lost, drifting without a purpose or belief. You betray them, you betray yourself and you’d never recover. Don’t cross a line that you can never come back from.’
Finally he untangled himself and stepped away, her words mingling with something he remembered McKenzie saying: Once you’ve crossed that line, there’s no turning back – not for anybody. Don’t cross a line that you can never come back from. Thoughts of Kate and his daughters rushed into his aching mind – the family that was growing up without him, becoming little more than strangers to him. He felt a dizzy and searched for a chair to sit in.
‘Sean?’ Anna asked. ‘Are you all right?’
‘Yes,’ he managed to lie. ‘I’ll be fine.’
Anna studied him for a moment in silence before speaking. ‘I don’t think you really wanted this to happen, no matter how much I did.’
‘Then you’d be wrong.’
‘Would I? This isn’t about me, Sean. We both know it. It’s as if you’re trying to be something you’re not. Why?’ He said nothing. ‘Is it something to do with the new case? Trying to get the scent back by putting yourself on the edge, by risking everything that’s important to you?’ Still he didn’t answer. ‘It is, isn’t it? That’s why you’re here.’
‘I’m getting nowhere with this investigation,’ he finally admitted. ‘I can’t work out his motivation. Can’t get inside his head.’
‘Sounds as if you already have,’ she contradicted him. ‘You could very well be right: maybe this one isn’t doing it to torture and kill. Something else, perhaps?’
‘Yeah, but what?’
‘As we were discussing before …’ They exchanged an awkward glance. ‘The abductor could be working with someone – a male and female working together to take the children – to take them and keep them as their own. To love them.’
‘I’d considered it,’ Sean told her.
‘But?
’
‘But how could they ever hope to get away with it – raising abducted children as their own?’
‘You’re assuming they’re rational.’
‘One delusional person acting alone I can consider, but two fantasists sharing the same obsession – an obsession as unusual as this? I don’t think so.’
Anna considered him for a minute, surprised at how dulled his instincts appeared to be. ‘I agree,’ she told him, making him look her in the eye. ‘But in a case like this I would expect to find one delusional and one rational person. The rational person no doubt knows exactly what they’re doing and that ultimately it’s doomed to failure, but they do it anyway out of a need to please or even appease the delusional one. A husband trying to satisfy a wife; a lover trying to please a more dominant partner … It could even be a dynamic between siblings or some other type of family relationship – a mother and son?’
‘Maybe,’ Sean half agreed, stretching and rubbing the back of his neck. ‘But one thing I’m sure of is that our suspect knew both families. We’ll keep cross-referencing names until we get a hit, and when we do I’ll have my prime suspect. Then they can tell us why themselves.’
‘Good luck,’ Anna told him as he stood to leave.
‘Thanks,’ he answered. ‘I’ve got a feeling I’m going to need it. And I’m sorry if I … if I did anything to make you feel … uncomfortable. I wouldn’t want you to ever feel that way around me.’
‘I never could,’ she replied without smiling. ‘Just don’t cross that line. You’ll lose yourself if you do.’
‘I won’t,’ he promised, knowing that if he couldn’t with her he wouldn’t with anyone.
‘Sean,’ she stopped him as he headed for the door. ‘If you ever need anything, just call me – OK?’
‘I will,’ he assured her. ‘I’ll keep you posted,’ he promised and was gone, leaving her standing in front of her desk imagining what could have been – imagining them together, instead of watching him walking away.
Forty-five minutes later Sean had completed the tortuous journey across Central London that had taken him past Marble Arch and Hyde Park Corner and along the rear garden walls of Buckingham Palace before battling his way past Victoria station and finally into Victoria Street and down to Broadway and the Yard. He’d cursed being moved to Central London from Peckham more than once and was in a less than joyous mood as he swept into the main office, pictures of Anna swirling in his mind, the smell of her perfume still on his clothes and face, her taste still on his lips. He was unsure about why he’d really gone to see her – whether it he’d been driven by simple, natural desire or she’d been right and he’d merely gone to her to feel danger again – to risk losing everything just to put himself on some sort of edge that might kick-start his instincts. He caught sight of the photographs of the missing children staring at him from the whiteboards – innocent children snatched from their warm beds and safe homes by some nutjob. Whether whoever was responsible intentionally meant to harm the children or not, they were still insane as far as he was concerned. He wasn’t in the mood to sympathize.
He ignored everyone he passed as he made his way to his office, slumping into the chair behind his desk. He stared back out into the office at the photographs, the children’s eyes seeming to follow him, their smiling faces, immaculate hair and perfect school uniforms mocking his own miserable childhood. He spoke quietly to himself. ‘Why didn’t anyone come and take me? Why didn’t you come and take me? I would have gone with you.’ His own question made him sit bolt upright. ‘Is that it? Were they being abused – is that why you took them away?’ But the eyes in the photographs told him differently – Bailey’s more than George’s, but even the boy’s were content enough. Not like the few pictures of himself as a child – haunted and defeated. And the parents too, none seemed like the type of animal he knew so well – like his father. He slumped back in his chair. Something else then. The vibrating phone in his pocket broke his daydreaming. He pulled it free and looked at the caller ID. His cheeks puffed before he answered.
‘Sean – it’s Superintendent Featherstone. Got any updates for me?’
‘No. Not really.’
‘What about this second missing kid?’
‘Too early to say much,’ Sean lied, unwilling to explain his early theories.
‘Bad news, all the same,’ Featherstone told him, ‘another kid being taken. Are you sure they’re connected?’
‘They’re connected. Same suspects.’
‘Suspects?’ Featherstone seized on Sean’s tired mistake.
‘I’m keeping an open mind,’ Sean tried to deflect him.
‘You think it could be a paedophile ring?’
‘Like I said, I’m keeping an open mind.’
‘Well that’s fine by me,’ Featherstone began. ‘I understand the score, but Addis won’t be so forgiving. He’ll want something solid on the hurry-up, get my drift?’
‘I’ll do the best I can.’
‘I know you will,’ Featherstone told him. ‘There’s something else you need to know.’
‘Such as?’ Sean asked, sitting forward in his chair.
‘Addis is going back on the telly tonight – to do another appeal for assistance.’
‘Probably can’t hurt.’
‘Unfortunately he’s going to publically apologize as well.’
‘For what?’ Sean asked, sitting ever more upright.
‘The investigation’s failings.’
‘Failings?’ Sean responded. ‘The investigation’s failings? You mean my failings?’
‘I’m sure you’re doing all you can,’ Featherstone weakly reassured him, but Sean wasn’t listening.
‘Why doesn’t he take me off the case then – give it someone from SCG north-west – see if they fare any better?’
‘Because he knows you’re the best man, the best team, for the job – no matter what else he says. So let’s just try not to piss him off too much and get this one solved. If it’s too late to save the missing kids, we’ll have to manage that as best we can, but at least if we have a suspect in custody who’s going to stay there we can put a positive spin on things for the media and the public.’
‘It’s not too late,’ Sean snapped back without thinking.
‘Not too late for what?’ Featherstone asked, confused.
‘Nothing,’ Sean tried to cover his slip.
‘Whatever. Just remember, Sean, if push comes to shove, it won’t be Addis who takes the fall – no chance of that. And just for the record, it won’t be me either. Be careful, Sean.’ The line went dead.
‘Fuck,’ he swore loudly enough to be heard in the main office. His phone began to chirp and vibrate again, the caller ID telling him it was Kate calling from her mobile. ‘Jesus,’ he muttered more quietly, deciding to let it ring out before changing his mind and answering, images of Anna tormenting him as he tried to sound normal, his betrayal and guilt burning in his chest.
‘Hi. It’s me,’ Kate replied cheerfully. ‘Where are you?’
‘At work – where else? What about you?’
‘Work too.’
‘Busy?’
‘Not really. Not at this time of day, unless we’re really unlucky. How’s it going?’
‘Badly,’ he told her.
‘Something happened?’
‘Another kid’s gone missing, a little girl this time – taken by the same person.’
‘Oh,’ Kate answered, trying to hide the tell-tale sounds of selfish disappointment in her voice. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I mean, I’m sorry for the girl and her parents.’
‘I know you are.’ They listened to each other silently down the phone for a few seconds, his guilt and regret growing in the silence.
‘I suppose that means we won’t be seeing much of you – anything of you for a while?’
‘What can I do?’ he asked.
‘We need to get away from this,’ she told him, making him sink back in his chair. ‘This is no
way to live – to raise kids.’
‘Not now,’ he pleaded. ‘Let’s not do this now. Not right now.’
‘OK,’ she agreed, her voice soft and reconciliatory, ‘but have you thought about New Zealand any more? It has to be better than this.’
‘I’ve looked into it,’ he reminded her. ‘My shoulder’s fucked – I’d never pass the medical, not without more surgery.’
‘If you went to your physiotherapy sessions, that would help.’
‘I’m too busy for physiotherapy,’ he told her before realizing his mistake.
‘Exactly.’ She seized on it. ‘You owe your job no loyalty,’ she told him. ‘You’ve given them everything and they’ve taken it all without giving a damn thing back. It’s time to look after yourself … and your family.’
He considered her words for a second. ‘OK. I promise to keep the physio appointments.’
‘And?’
‘And to check out New Zealand again, providing the shoulder improves.’
‘Good,’ she told him, the relief obvious in her voice. ‘And try to get home at some point, even if it’s just for a little while.’
‘I will,’ he promised.
‘OK. I’ll see you later. Be careful.’
‘I miss you,’ he suddenly found himself saying, ‘and the kids – tell them I miss them too.’
‘Then you know what to do,’ she told him and hung up, leaving him with his mobile still pressed to his ear as he stared into space.
Donnelly entered without being asked, waving a fistful of thin files in the air.
‘Busy?’ he asked, looking at the phone against Sean’s face.
‘No,’ sighed Sean, tossing it on to his desk. ‘Got something for me?’
‘Aye – the names of the families’ nannies and au pairs and employment records for the teachers from both nurseries used by them. There’s a few dozen names to go through there, but it’s not too bad.’
‘What about the removal companies, estate agents, etc?’ Sean asked impatiently.
‘Still working on them, but they’re going to take a bit of time.’
‘Time’s something we haven’t got,’ Sean reminded him.
‘Aye,’ Donnelly agreed. ‘D’you want me to load these names on to the system – put them on a spreadsheet?’
The Toy Taker Page 23