Cold as Ice

by Lee Weeks

  ‘You’re such a good boy, Jackson. Have you got any sore bits anywhere? Does anything hurt?’ He shook his head.

  Tracy came back in, changed; she handed the bag to Ebony and had one of her sweatshirts in her hand for Jackson.

  ‘We’ll need to roll up the sleeves.’

  ‘That’s fine, thanks. Can you give me a hand to undress him?’ They stood Jackson on a towel and took off his things.

  Ebony smiled at him. ‘Look, Jackson’s wearing Nanny’s clothes.’ He didn’t look happy about it. Scruffy came into the kitchen and barged into him. Jackson held onto him, put his thumb in his mouth and rested his head on Scruffy’s back as he worked his fingers into the dog’s fur and sucked his thumb.

  They finished and Ebony closed up the kit and packed it away. Tracy took Jackson into the lounge and Carter came off the phone and went to sit with him. Tracy left him flicking through the channels. Ebony was waiting to speak to her again back in the kitchen but Tracy had something she wanted to ask first.

  ‘Do you think something awful has happened to my daughter?’ Tracy asked as she walked in and pulled the door halfway closed.

  ‘We don’t know any more than you at this stage, Mrs Collins. But we are working fast to find out. You say you’ve met her just a few times before?’ Tracy nodded. ‘What did she tell you about her life?’

  ‘She was trying to make a real go of it for her and Jackson. She was taking classes to get into teacher training.’ She looked at Ebony, her eyes hopeful. Ebony nodded encouragingly. In her head she was going through similarities to Emily Styles: one small child, going back to school to better herself. ‘She’s doing it all for Jackson really,’ said Tracy. Ebony thought how Tracy was looking shell-shocked. She seemed to be in a daze. ‘She’s a good mum. Definitely. She loves him to bits. She’s had difficult times though, I know that.’

  ‘Did she talk about anything specifically?’

  ‘She said she had problems with the couple who adopted her. Her mum Marion is dead. She told me that she died of cancer not that long ago. I think whatever relationship she had with Gerald, the father, evaporated then.’ Ebony made a note to find out more about the Fosters.

  ‘What about the little boy’s father?’

  ‘She didn’t seem very keen on him. They’d fallen out. I don’t know how much involvement he has in Jackson’s life now.’

  They could hear the television on in the other room and the high-pitched voice of a character on children’s television.

  ‘I don’t know how you’re going to find him.’

  ‘Don’t worry about things like that, Mrs Collins. I’m sure the forensic officers will find out what we need to know. What about a boyfriend? Did she talk about her private life?’

  Tracy shook her head as she spoke. ‘Not really. We’d just begun . . . as I said.’ Tracy thought for a few seconds. ‘I did get the impression there was someone – you know – there were a lot of texts. She came back quite merry the night I babysat. Seemed like she’d had a good time. I just don’t know. I’m so sorry – I know so little to help you.’ The doorbell rang.

  ‘I’ll get it,’ Carter called out, opening the door. Jeanie stood in the doorway, blowing into her hands with the cold. She smiled across at Jackson.

  ‘Thanks, Jeanie, I appreciate you coming,’ Carter said as he led Jeanie into the kitchen. ‘Come and meet Mrs Collins, Danielle Foster’s mother.’

  ‘Mrs Collins, this is Jeanie. She is a Family Liaison Officer, which means that she’ll be the one to explain things to you and help you through all this.’ Jeanie gave Carter a look that said, ‘That wasn’t what I said and you know it.’

  Tracy shook Jeanie’s hand. ‘Pleased to meet you,’ she said, her eyes going from one detective to another. ‘Everyone – please call me Tracy.’

  Jeanie smiled. ‘Hello, Tracy. I know it’s all a bit overwhelming, but we’ll take things one step at a time. What I’d like us to do now is leave the officers to find Danielle and you and I will concentrate on looking after Jackson.’ Tracy smiled, relieved. ‘I need to make a list of the practical things we need for Jackson and we’ll start putting it together for you, just in case he’s here for a couple of days. I’ve brought over some crayons and some paper for Jackson. It’s important that we get him settled and secure and, at the same time, we encourage him to open up about what he saw. Drawings are a great way for us unlock things in his head. I also picked up a pair of pyjamas and a tracksuit for him on my way over. I hope it’s the right size.’ Tracy didn’t answer. She took the packets from Jeanie and stared at the label. It didn’t mean anything to her. Jeanie took them back from her and put them on the worktop. ‘But I’m not just here for Jackson. I’m here to help you, Tracy.’

  Tracy smiled and nodded but she continued to look overwhelmed. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Does he sleep in a normal bed or one with a side to it?’

  ‘I know he sleeps in a bed not a cot. I don’t know much about his routine, what he eats or what he likes doing really.’ She held up her hands in an it’s hopeless gesture. ‘I can bath him. That’s about it. I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s no problem, Tracy. Maybe he can sleep with you tonight?’ She nodded. ‘We’ll see what tomorrow brings. Maybe then we’ll know what we’re faced with.’

  ‘You must think this is serious to be all here like this? Taking tests and talking about unlocking things in Jackson’s head?’ Her eyes settled on Carter as the man in charge.

  ‘We are concerned,’ he said. ‘I won’t lie to you. She left without locking the Chubb. She left with her phone, but not her bag. And most of all she left her little boy behind. Do you think she’s the kind to leave Jackson and go willingly like that?’

  Tracy shook her head slowly. ‘No. I really don’t think so. She’s very protective of him. It’s her and Jackson against the world really. If she left him then she must have thought he was safer that way. Oh God . . .’ Her eyes went from one officer to the other.

  ‘When did you last speak to her, Tracy?’

  ‘I was here at home, it was Thursday evening.’

  ‘Did you speak about anything in particular?’ Carter asked. He was trying to stop Scruffy from covering his legs in dog hairs as Scruffy clearly saw Carter as a potential playmate and kept jumping up on him.

  ‘She called to sort of apologize, I suppose, for the other night when I babysat? She said she was ringing to ask me to come to the fête. That’s where I was supposed to see her and Jackson today.’

  ‘Did she seem anxious? Did she say something was bothering her?’

  ‘No. She seemed fine – sounded good. I could hear it in her voice. She was upbeat.’

  Tracy’s phone lit up on the worktop. She looked at the caller ID.

  ‘It’s my husband Steve. Do you mind?’

  ‘Go ahead,’ said Carter and the three officers left her to talk in the kitchen. Jeanie went in to sit on the sofa next to Jackson. Carter called Ebony over to him out of Tracy’s earshot.

  ‘We’ll leave Jeanie to take Tracy’s statement and we’ll go back to the flat now and see what Sandford’s found. By that time we might know something about Manson and about the three men who paid Danielle’s flat a visit the other night.’

  Tracy came off the phone. She hadn’t told Steve about Danielle. She was hoping she wouldn’t have to; hoping that Danielle would be back. Luckily Steve had just said he wasn’t coming home that night anyway.

  ‘My husband’s staying at work tonight,’ she told Carter. ‘He sometimes does when he has a lot on. He’s got a camp bed there and a telly. He won’t mind for one night and then I can concentrate on Jackson.’

  Carter nodded. ‘We’ll leave you and Jeanie to settle Jackson in and Jeanie will take your statement as well.’

  ‘I thought I’d done that already.’

  ‘We need it written down if you don’t mind, Tracy.’ Carter called Jeanie outside the front door to speak with her.

  ‘You think this is linked to Emily Styles’ d
eath?’

  ‘My gut instinct says it. She even phoned the helpline. Maybe someone didn’t want her to talk. Yeah. I think we have to assume it until we know otherwise. If she turns out to have nipped out to buy an Elastoplast after cutting herself then I’ll be pleased as punch but somehow it’s all a bit wrong. If Hawk has her, Emily was held over a period of months. That means that if it is our man, we have time to find her.’

  Carter left Jeanie to go back inside and Ebony came out and closed the door behind her.

  Her breath came out in a white cloud as their feet crunched across the frozen pavement. It was five p.m.

  Ebony paused by the car and looked across the car roof at Carter. She could see by his face that he’d had enough of Tracy’s house. He was a doer rather than a thinker. He’d only stayed long enough to know what action should come next. There was another reason he had had enough of Tracy’s home. Ebony understood it. He pulled hard on the frozen handle, wrenched open the door. Once inside, he leant over to push Ebony’s door open from the inside.

  Ebony kept silent for a few minutes, busying herself with pulling on her seat belt and getting out her notebook. Jeanie had the effect of making Carter unsettled, claustrophobic. Ebony waited for him to relax again.

  Carter switched on the engine. He sat thinking whilst it warmed up and de-misted the windscreen. Ebony began writing up the last few minutes of their time in Tracy’s flat and recorded the actual time of leaving. She wrote: DI Jeanie Vincent to begin questioning the victim’s son, Jackson. Returning to Fletcher House with samples of clothing. Includes bloodstained child’s pyjamas.

  When she’d finished, Carter flicked off the light switch.

  ‘What do you think, Ebb?’

  She looked back at the house. The security light above the door was still on.

  ‘I think that if she doesn’t show up in the next twenty-four hours, Guv, then Tracy’s and Jackson’s lives are never going to be the same.’

  He sighed. ‘Yeah. Twenty-four hours and then we’ll know for sure. This is what we asked for, Ebb. We were supposed to flush him out when we revealed her identity.’ Carter put the car into gear and pulled away. ‘Not make him do it again.’

  Chapter 16

  After Jeanie had finished taking Tracy’s statement she packed it away in her bag and took out some things she’d brought especially for Jackson’s interview. She laid out paper and crayons onto Tracy’s kitchen table. She placed a bag on the table.

  Jackson was watching the children’s programmes on television in the lounge.

  ‘Do you think Jackson saw what happened?’ asked Tracy. She sighed; suddenly she looked exhausted.

  ‘I don’t know; but the quicker we question him about the event the more chance we have of getting all the small details. I’d like to make a start now if that’s okay? I would like to establish who was in the flat at the time his mum left. Can you start with drawing me a rough plan of Danielle’s flat? It’s mainly for me to use.’

  ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘The main thing is that you put in the things you think Jackson will remember in his flat – anything distinctive that you think he’ll relate to, like where the telly is, what colour his front door is, that kind of thing.’

  Tracy nodded. She sat at the table and sketched an outline of the flat, then handed it to Jeanie.

  ‘It’s pretty good. You have a good memory for detail.’ Jeanie smiled. ‘Okay, you ready?’

  Tracy nodded. ‘I’ll get Jackson.’ She went into the lounge to fetch him.

  ‘Sit on Nanny’s lap, Jackson,’ Tracy said as she led him to the table and helped him climb up.

  ‘Jackson. Shall we do some drawing?’

  He looked interested when he saw the crayons.

  ‘Jackson?’ Jeanie got his attention. ‘Shall we draw your house? Tell me about your house.’

  Jackson began drawing a front door and a window next to it.

  ‘What colour is your front door, Jackson? Choose a crayon that colour.’

  ‘Pink.’ Jackson was colouring, concentrating with his tongue sticking out. He coloured inside the lines of the door he’d drawn.

  ‘How many bedrooms are there, Jackson?’

  ‘Mummy’s room and Jackson’s.’

  ‘How many is that?’

  He held up a thumb and finger. ‘Two.’

  ‘What’s Jackson’s room like? Can you draw it?’ Jeanie gave him a new piece of paper.

  Jackson chose a blue and a yellow crayon. ‘Fireman Sam bed.’ He scribbled slashes of blue and yellow.

  ‘Anything else?’ Jeanie was writing notes. He slowly shook his head. ‘What about Mummy’s room?’

  ‘Photos of Jackson and Mummy in the park.’

  ‘Are there? Did you have a nice time?’

  Jackson nodded. ‘We give bread to the ducks.’

  Jeanie looked around the room. Jackson did the same. ‘Whose house is this, Jackson?’

  He answered: ‘Nanny’s house.’

  ‘Yes that’s right, this is where Nanny lives, isn’t it? Can you draw Nanny for me?’ She gave him a fresh piece of paper.

  Jackson drew a round head and inside he drew eyes.

  ‘What a clever boy. What about Nanny’s hair, Jackson?’ He chose a yellow crayon and scribbled a yellow streak on the top of the circle. Jeanie smiled at him. ‘I can see Nanny’s arms and legs and she’s got eyes. Lovely blonde hair. Can you draw Mummy and Jackson?’ Jackson drew a small face with legs and the tallest figure with long dark hair. ‘Is that Mummy?’ He nodded.

  ‘When you saw Mummy last, what was she doing, Jackson?’

  Jackson’s eyes moved around as he thought hard. He began moving his head from side to side.

  ‘Was Mummy happy? Did she have a happy face, Jackson?’ He continued shaking his head.

  ‘Mummy said Leave me alone.’

  ‘Was Mummy cross?’ He nodded. Where were you standing then, Jackson?’ Jeanie had the plan that Tracy had drawn in her hands. ‘Were you in the kitchen?’ He shook his head. ‘Were you standing next to anything, Jackson?’

  ‘My buggy fell bang on the floor.’

  Tracy had drawn the buggy resting against the wall in the hallway.

  ‘Were you standing next to your buggy when it fell over?’

  He nodded.

  ‘Did Mummy say anything to you, Jackson?’

  He looked at Tracy as he answered. ‘Mummy said go back in your bedroom.’

  ‘Was there anyone else in Jackson’s house?’ He nodded again.

  ‘Jackson, how many other people were in the flat with you and Mummy and Scruffy?’

  Jeanie pulled out some puppets from the bag. The first one was a woman. ‘Was there someone like this? A lady there in the flat?’ He thought hard and shook his head. ‘A man?’ asked Jeanie as she pulled a male puppet from the bag. Jackson nodded his head. He was concentrating hard. ‘Show me how you can count, Jackson. Where are your fingers?’ Tracy smiled encouragement. Jackson lifted both his hands in the air. ‘How many fingers have you got on your hand, Jackson?’

  Tracy touched each finger as he counted them. ‘One, two, three, four, five.’

  ‘Good boy. Very good.’

  Jeanie took out two more male puppets. ‘Was there more than one man, Jackson? How many men were there in the flat, Jackson?’ He held up one finger in the air.

  ‘Where is Mummy now, do you know?’ He shook his head; his eyes focused ahead, his face confused and sad. ‘When you last saw Mummy, where was she standing Jackson?’

  He didn’t reply. His face was clouded with thought.

  ‘Was there someone else there with Mummy?’

  He nodded. ‘Mummy said don’t hurt my son. Mummy said you bastard. Poor Mummy . . .’ Jackson looked at his hands; he turned the palms over and shook his head. ‘Poor Mummy hurt her hand. Get out. Get out.’ Jackson looked up and shouted across the room towards the lounge door. ‘Bastard!’

  Jeanie reached out and soothed him.

  ‘Can
you draw that other person for me, Jackson?’

  Jackson picked up a brown crayon and begun to draw a head but he stopped and picked up a red crayon and began to scribble.

  ‘Mummy loves Jackson.’ Jackson tore the paper as he held the crayon in his fist and scoured the paper. ‘Leave Mummy alone. Get out. Get out.’

  Jeanie reached inside a bag she’d brought with her and pulled out another doll. ‘Does this look like Nanny?’ He nodded. ‘Hello, Nanny.’ Jeanie talked to the puppet and set it down on the table.

  ‘Who is this one do you think, Jackson?’ Jeanie handed a dog puppet to Jackson. He held it in both hands and wiped his nose on it.

  ‘Doggy.’

  ‘Yes. Do you think this doggy is like Scruffy?’

  ‘Yes. Scruffy.’

  ‘And who is this then?’ Jeanie held up a little boy doll with short blond hair. Jackson shook his head.

  ‘This is Jackson.’ Jeanie galloped along with a toy in each hand. She pretended to have the dog jump all over the little boy and lick him furiously. Jackson laughed and said:

  ‘No, Scruffy. Don’t even think about it.’

  Jeanie smiled at him.

  ‘Is that what Mummy says to Scruffy? “Don’t even think about it?”’ Jackson nodded. Jackson picked up the dog toy and galloped across the table with it in the same way Jeanie had.

  ‘Clever boy. That’s right. Now, Jackson . . .’ Jeanie pulled out another doll from the bag and she held it up. ‘Who do you think this is?’

  He looked at the blue-eyed doll with its brown hair: ‘Mummy.’

  ‘So this is Jackson and Mummy and Scruffy.’ Jeanie held the three puppets and placed them on the table in front of Jackson.

  Jeanie pulled out two different puppets. One was black, one was white.

  ‘Which one of these looks like the man with Mummy, Jackson?’ He took a good look at the puppets and touched the white one.

  ‘What colour hair has this man got?’ She took out a bald puppet, one with black, one with brown and one with blond hair and held them out one by one and then laid them in a row on the table. Jackson picked up the brown-haired puppet. Then he picked up the puppet representing himself and held it up to show it to Tracy.