by Jaime Raven
I paused, swallowed, let my arms drop to my sides.
‘You claim that I’ve wronged you in some way and that this is how you intend to punish me,’ I continued, speaking directly to the kidnapper. ‘But surely you must know that making my daughter suffer is cruel beyond words. Please, please find it in your heart to return her to me. She doesn’t …’
An image of Molly being smacked resurfaced in my mind suddenly and it made me catch my breath. I felt the heat in my eyes and I struggled to hold back the tears.
‘Are you saying that the man who abducted your daughter has been in touch?’ a reporter at the back of the crowd called out.
I nodded. ‘He’s sent text messages to me along with photos and a video.’
I realised I was giving away more than I’d intended, but now I wanted to let it all out, get it off my chest. I wanted people to know what was happening so that they could look out for Molly and call the police if they suspected someone they knew of being the kidnapper.
Sergeant Palmer stepped in front of me and tried to steer me back into the block, but I pushed her away.
‘I want the man who took Molly to know I genuinely have no idea what I’m supposed to have done to him,’ I said. ‘I’ve racked my brain, but I just don’t understand why this is happening. I am not a bad person and I wouldn’t knowingly hurt anyone.’
I turned slightly to the right and stared into the lens of a TV camera.
‘Whoever you are, I beg you not to hurt my Molly again. You say your aim is to make me suffer. Well you’ve done that by sending me the video. I can’t describe the effect it’s had on Molly’s father and me. We’re both crushed. So please, please let us have our little girl back.’
I didn’t know what else to say so I just stood there, my ears buzzing from the adrenaline rush.
There were several seconds during which no one spoke and the only sound was the distant rumble of thunder. All eyes were on me and I could tell from the expressions on the faces of some of the reporters that what I had said had come as a shock to them. This convinced me that I’d been right to speak out now and not wait until the formal press conference tomorrow. Surely it would have a much greater impact.
‘Can you tell us exactly what the kidnapper wrote in the text messages?’ someone asked.
Before I could respond, other questions were lobbed at me and it quickly descended into a raucous free-for-all.
‘Tell us about the video, Sarah. What’s on it?’
‘Why did the police get us to pull the photo of your daughter on the sofa?’
‘Do you think this has something to do with your job as a detective?’
‘Is it true that the man who snatched Molly might not be working alone?’
Sergeant Palmer seized control of the situation then and it was a relief because the noise and the pressure was suddenly making me dizzy and disoriented. She grabbed my arm and pulled me back, then nudged me towards where Adam stood.
‘That’s all for now,’ she shouted. ‘As you can see, Miss Mason is distressed and she needs to return to her flat.’
But as Adam led me back towards the entrance to my block, one female reporter raised her voice above all the others and asked a question that shut everyone else up and halted me in my tracks.
‘Are you aware, Miss Mason, that in the last few minutes your colleagues have made an arrest in connection with Molly’s abduction?’
I spun round and sought her out in the crowd. She was standing at the front, not ten yards away, a woman somewhere in her thirties with long brown hair and thick-framed glasses.
‘Is that true?’ I burst out.
She nodded. ‘I just received a call from my news editor. A man has been detained after officers raided a house here in London. According to our contact, he’s apparently someone who is known to you.’
20
DCI Brennan
The raid on Edwin Sharp’s poky ground-floor flat in Tooting had gone without a hitch. The tactical team hadn’t even had to batter down the front door because Sharp just happened to arrive home only seconds before they swooped.
That was an hour ago and the flat was still filled with bodies in padded vests and uniforms.
But there was no sign of Molly Mason, which had come as a huge disappointment. Sharp was insisting that he had no idea where she was. So far they hadn’t come across any evidence to prove he was lying.
The sofa in the living room was brown, not white, and there was no cot in any of the bedrooms. Plus, they hadn’t found a balaclava or a hoody like the one worn by the man in the street camera footage.
However, Brennan was convinced that Sharp was hiding something, which was why he hadn’t whisked him straight off to the nick. Officers were in the other room checking his phone and laptop and Brennan wanted to question him in situ rather than waste valuable time going through the formal process.
He’d made it clear to Sharp that he was their prime suspect but had so far ignored his pleas to speak to a solicitor.
‘Five years ago you told Detective Mason that you would see to her when you got out of prison,’ Brennan said to him. ‘And it seems like too much of a coincidence that only weeks after you’re released her daughter is abducted.’
Sharp was sitting across from Brennan at the table in the small, cluttered kitchen. He was wearing a tight, black T-shirt and baggy jeans. His skin was pale, eyes sunken, and he looked slightly undernourished. He was smoking a rolled-up cigarette and before responding to Brennan he sucked on it so hard it made his cheeks bulge.
‘I’ve told you it’s got nothing to do with me,’ he said, his tone desperate. ‘I can’t even remember making any threats against that copper. And even if I did, she shouldn’t have taken it seriously.’
‘I don’t believe you,’ Brennan said. ‘I’m willing to bet that you’ve stewed on it for five years and snatching Detective Mason’s daughter is your way of punishing her for bringing you down.’
Sharp’s face tightened. He exhaled a ribbon of smoke and said, ‘That’s not true.’
Brennan’s mouth twisted into a cynical smile. ‘Oh come off it. You’re a fucking rapist. You like having power over women, and the fact that it was a woman who collared you must have been a hard thing to swallow.’
Sharp took another drag on his cigarette, then twisted it out in an ashtray on the table. Grey smoke spiralled towards the ceiling.
Brennan stared at him, examining every feature of his face, which was a mixture of fear and fury. He had smoker’s lines around his mouth and tiny spidery veins in his cheeks.
He might have been good-looking once, but now he was gaunt and pasty, as though something vital had been sucked out of him.
‘Look, you’ve got the wrong man,’ Sharp said after a long pause. ‘I’ve seen the news so I know all about what’s happened. But it’s got nothing to do with me and I’m not even that interested in it. As I’ve already told you, I wasn’t anywhere near Streatham this morning when the kid was taken.’
Brennan nodded. ‘But you can’t prove that can you, Mr Sharp? You say you were in bed, but no one can corroborate that so it’s hardly a cast-iron alibi.’
‘But it’s the truth. I didn’t get up until eleven. I haven’t got a job yet so there’s no need to.’
Brennan clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and sighed.
‘The problem is that you don’t sound very convincing, Mr Sharp. You’re coming across like someone who’s been caught out because you didn’t expect us to make the connection between you and Detective Mason.’
Sharp’s eyes peeled wide. ‘This is bollocks and you know it. You’ve seen for yourself that there’s no kid here. And you haven’t found a shred of evidence that links me to her or her mother.’
‘Except that it was Detective Mason who was responsible for getting you banged up in spite of the fact that you claimed you were innocent.’
‘I was innocent, but that doesn’t mean I set out to get my own back on her. And even if th
at had been my intention, I wouldn’t have snatched her baby. That’s fucking sick.’
‘So is rape, Mr Sharp. And yet you were convicted of that.’
Sharp jerked back in his chair, as though recoiling from a punch.
‘If you’re going to arrest me then do it,’ he said. ‘Otherwise go away and leave me in peace.’
‘I have no intention of leaving here until you tell me what you’ve done with that little girl,’ Brennan said. ‘I’m assuming you’ve just come from wherever it is you’re holding her. Maybe it’s the home of an accomplice.’
Sharp shook his head. ‘You’re not listening to what I’ve been telling you. I am not a child snatcher. I went out for a walk earlier this evening and then before coming home I visited the all-night supermarket in the High Street. I’ve shown you the receipt to prove it.’
Brennan plucked a sealed plastic evidence bag from his inside pocket and held it up. It contained a wrinkled supermarket receipt.
‘So you bought three things,’ he said. ‘A pint of milk, a book of stamps and an envelope.’
‘That’s right.’
‘And you say that you used the envelope and a stamp for a letter which you posted while there.’
‘Correct.’
‘So how long were you out before you arrived at the supermarket?’
He shrugged. ‘I’m not sure. Three, four hours maybe.’
‘That sounds more like a hike than a leisurely walk.’
‘It’s my way of beating the boredom. Sitting in all day does my head in.’
‘Then I’ll ask you again. Where did you actually go on this marathon walk?’
‘I can’t remember exactly. The High Street, the heath. I dropped in at the Rose and Crown on Brompton Road about eight. But the rest of the time I just wandered aimlessly like I always do.’
‘We’ll be checking CCTV,’ Brennan said.
‘Good. It’ll show that I’m not lying.’
Brennan began to experience the first inkling of doubt. Could it be that he was reading this wrong? Was he clutching at straws because he so wanted Sharp to be the kidnapper, despite the lack of evidence?
‘Have you got a minute, guv?’
Brennan turned to see DS Fleming standing in the doorway, an anxious look on his face.
‘What is it?’ he asked.
Fleming lifted his brow. ‘There’s something you need to see.’
Brennan told Sharp to stay put, got up and followed Fleming along the hall and into the living room where two other officers were leaning over Sharp’s laptop which was resting on the coffee table.
‘We’ve found some interesting stuff,’ Fleming said. ‘Seems Mr Sharp has spent a good deal of time trawling the news sites for stories about the abduction. It started soon after the story broke. For some reason, he also printed off the photo of Molly on the sofa, although it doesn’t appear to be here in the flat.’
Brennan stared down at the computer screen as one of the officers clicked through the sites that Sharp had been visiting.
‘I agree it’s interesting,’ he said. ‘But it still doesn’t prove that he’s the one who grabbed her. Only that he’s been following the story.’
‘But it’s not all we’ve found,’ Fleming said. ‘The idiot hasn’t bothered to delete the contents of his history file since he started using this laptop a few days after he got out. It’s full of some rather incriminating stuff, much of which he’s downloaded onto a file that he’s neglected to conceal.’
Brennan was shown the various websites that Sharp had been visiting and also the contents of a file labelled: Private.
What he saw caused his breath to lurch in his chest and the blood to boil in his veins.
Back in the kitchen, Brennan had to fight to control the anger that was balled inside him like a fist.
‘So it turns out you’ve told us at least one big fat lie, Mr Sharp,’ he said.
Sharp’s eyes flashed like shards of glass caught in the sunlight. He started to speak but Brennan talked over him.
‘You told us you weren’t interested in the abduction story and yet you’ve been following it religiously online. You even printed off that photo of Molly Mason and I’d love to know why.’
A sudden panic flamed on Sharp’s face and his teeth played nervously against his bottom lip.
‘I don’t see what difference it makes,’ he said, with false bravado. ‘I was just a bit curious, like most people probably are. It’s not as if I’ve committed a crime.’
‘Oh, but you have,’ Brennan said. ‘You’ve been downloading child porn and that’s a serious offence. It’s going to put you right back behind bars where you belong.’
Sharp was speechless. He cast a desperate look at the other people in the room and then dropped his head into his hands.
‘You’re under arrest,’ Brennan said. ‘And we now have even more reason to believe that you are involved in the abduction of Molly Mason.’
Brennan read him his rights and got one of the uniformed officers to cuff him.
To the others in the room, he said, ‘I want a forensic team to tear this flat apart. And gather as much CCTV footage as you can. We need to know exactly where this pervert has been today, and God willing, the trail will lead us to Detective Mason’s daughter.’
21
Adam
Brennan finally returned Adam’s call just after midnight. He confirmed what the reporter had said outside, that a man had been arrested during a raid on a house in Tooting.
‘It’s Edwin Sharp,’ the DCI said, before going on to crash Adam’s hopes by revealing that Molly hadn’t been with him. ‘He’s denying any involvement in the abduction, but we have reason to believe that he could be lying. We’re about to question him formally and at the same time we’re checking on his movements today.’
‘Has he got an alibi?’ Adam asked.
‘Not as such. He claims he was at home in bed when Molly was kidnapped. But there’s no one to back it up.’
‘So what makes you think he might have something to do with it? And please don’t keep us in the dark. That will only make us more anxious.’
Brennan hesitated a moment, then said, ‘Look, you need to keep this to yourselves, OK?’
‘Of course,’ he said and felt his heart miss a beat.
‘Well we found some child porn on his laptop, and he can’t really account for his whereabouts this afternoon and this evening. He claims he’s been walking around town, so we’re having to check CCTV cameras.’
Adam’s jaw clenched involuntarily at the mention of child pornography and he had to force himself to remain calm.
‘Have you had a look at his phone?’ he asked.
‘We have, and it wasn’t the one used to send the text messages and email to Sarah. Or to take the photos and video of Molly.’
A beat of silence passed, then Adam said, ‘So there’s every chance that he’s telling the truth?’
‘It’s possible,’ Brennan conceded. ‘But it’s early days. We can’t—’
Adam abruptly severed the connection. He’d heard enough. A crushing disappointment flooded through his system and the breath rushed out of him.
For a short time they had been given a frisson of hope, but now it was gone and he was drowning again in a cauldron of despair.
He should have known it was too good to be true. Edwin Sharp had been put in the frame only because Sarah remembered something he’d said to her over five years ago; and because they were scratching around for potential suspects. No way was he a solid, credible lead, even though he was into child porn.
Adam padded into the living room to give Sarah the bad news. She was sitting next to Sergeant Palmer on the sofa. She looked exhausted, drained of energy and emotion. Her haunted eyes were blackened with mascara and her hair was limp and greasy.
Adam’s heart was up in his throat as he told her what Brennan had said.
‘If Sharp does know where Molly is then you can be sure that Brennan will get
it out of him,’ Adam said, forcing calm into his voice.
Disbelief crossed her face like a shadow and she got to her feet.
‘I’m going upstairs,’ she said through the tears. ‘I need to be alone for a while.’
She hurried out of the room and Adam resisted the urge to go after her. Instead he stood there, fisting his hands as the sudden, heavy silence pressed against his eardrums.
‘Perhaps she needs to be prescribed something stronger by the doctor,’ Sergeant Palmer said.
Adam nodded. ‘You’re probably right. I dread to think what it will do to her if Molly isn’t found soon.’
‘You look in a bad way yourself, sir,’ Palmer said. ‘Are you planning to stay here for the rest of the night?’
‘I am. I’ll crash in the spare room. I don’t think I should leave her. I can go home and freshen up in the morning before the press conference.’
‘Well I’ll be here if either of you need me.’
‘I appreciate it.’
Just then he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket with an incoming text message. He took it out and felt a stab of guilt when he saw who had sent it.
‘I have to make a call,’ he said to Sergeant Palmer. ‘I’ll go outside on the landing . Feel free to stretch out on the sofa. I won’t disturb you unless I have to.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ she said. ‘But I don’t suppose any of us will get to sleep tonight.’
Adam stepped out onto the internal landing and walked to the far end, past two other flats, to a window that was slightly ajar and overlooked the parking area below. He stood close to it and hauled in a deep slice of evening air before opening the text message to read it again.
Hope you’re bearing up. Call me again if you can. Please. H xx
Her name was Helen Casey and he’d been dating her for six weeks. She was a financial adviser who he’d met through an online dating agency. He enjoyed her company and even more so the sex. On Saturday they had spent the night at the hotel in Windsor before she flew off on a business trip to the States on Sunday. And that was when she’d revealed that she had fallen for him big time and wanted a full-on, monogamous relationship.