The Mother

by Jaime Raven

  ‘We have to tell Brennan about this,’ Adam said.

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth. ‘There’s no need. You’re forgetting that they’re monitoring my calls and messages. They’ll have received it at the same time I did.’

  ‘I’m calling him anyway,’ Adam said, and I watched him take out his phone and tap at the digits. ‘He should have bloody well told us by now what’s going on.’

  He stood up and walked over to the window while waiting for his call to be answered. As he pulled back the curtain to look outside, I saw that it was still dark. But dawn could only be a few hours away and then we would have to endure another day of not knowing what to expect.

  Would more photos and video clips be sent to me? And if so, would they show Molly sleeping, eating, bathing, or just looking confused? Or would they show her being subjected to unimaginable forms of abuse?

  My bottom lip began to quiver and I felt a wave of heat roll up my back.

  I stood up and shuffled into the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. I swallowed a couple of paracetamols with it because I sensed a headache coming on. Or maybe it was a dreaded migraine.

  I could hear Adam talking in the living room, but before going back in I had a few puffs on a cigarette.

  I was still puffing away when Adam appeared at the door. The look on his face told me he did not have good news to impart.

  ‘I spoke to Brennan,’ he said. ‘He’s just seen the photo and read the text. He says he’ll be over later.’

  ‘Was that all he said?’

  His eyes flared as he swept a hand back over his hair.

  ‘He reckons Bobby Knight had definitely been plotting the abduction. It appears he was stalking you a few weeks back and he even took photographs of you with Molly. Brennan found them on a phone at his mum’s house in Peckham.’

  The breath rushed out of me. ‘Do they know where he is?’

  He shook his head. ‘Knight’s disappeared apparently. But that’s not all. His family believe he may be dead.’

  39

  DCI Brennan

  Brennan ended the conversation with Adam and rubbed his eyes, fatigue catching up with him.

  They had talked briefly about the latest text message and about how the intelligence provided by Victor Rosetti had been spot on. But Brennan hadn’t mentioned the means by which Adam had extracted it from the Romanian. He felt there was no need to since events had moved beyond that now.

  Naturally Adam had been gutted to hear that Knight was missing and they still didn’t know where Molly was. Brennan hoped he’d be able to give them some better news before the day was out.

  He was briefing the two uniforms about what was going to happen next when Mrs Knight and her son came down the stairs. She was now wearing loose black trousers and a red cardigan buttoned up to the neck. Her grey hair was fastened tightly back, exposing a heavily wrinkled forehead.

  ‘Thank you again for being so understanding,’ Brennan said. ‘I really do appreciate it.’

  ‘Well make sure your people don’t make a mess of the place. I don’t want to have to clear up after you.’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that. You won’t even know they’ve been here.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’

  ‘But before you go I need to ask you both again if you’re absolutely sure that you have no idea where Bobby could be.’

  ‘We’ve told you,’ Carter said, his face full of emotion. ‘He’s dead, and his body is probably buried where it will never be found.’

  ‘Well with respect, Mr Carter, we can’t be sure of that. So until we have concrete evidence to the contrary we have to assume that your brother is alive and that he’s holding Molly Mason in a house or flat somewhere.’

  They both looked at him, their expressions blank, and he realised that they did not want to accept that Bobby was a child snatcher. It was easier – and less shaming – to believe that he’d been murdered for harassing his former boss’s daughter.

  Brennan decided to adopt a shock tactic in an attempt to open up their minds. He took out his phone and pulled up the photo that had just been forwarded to him.

  ‘Molly’s mother just received this from the kidnapper,’ he said, holding it up so they could both see the photo. ‘I accept that it’s impossible to identify the man in the balaclava. But I believe that this is Bobby and that he’s not dead. He just wants us all to think he is.’

  The photo had the desired effect. Mrs Knight stifled a sob by putting her hand over her mouth. Carter instinctively wrapped an arm around her as he stared with undisguised revulsion at the photo.

  ‘That’s horrible,’ he said. ‘But let’s be honest, Inspector. You can’t even tell if it’s a man or a woman.’

  ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt that it’s the man who abducted the child,’ Brennan said. ‘The same man who rendered her grandmother unconscious with chloroform and tied her to a chair.’

  Mrs Knight shook her head and struggled for words.

  ‘I really don’t know what to think anymore,’ she said. ‘I’m shocked and stunned by everything that’s happened. But I really couldn’t tell you where Bobby might be if he isn’t dead. He’s kept very much to himself since his release and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t own another property that we’re not aware of.’

  ‘Has he been in touch with any of the people he was involved with while working with Tony Kemp?’

  It was Carter who chose to answer this question, saying, ‘My brother has always kept us away from that part of his life, Inspector. Most of what we knew about what he got up to we got from other people and from newspaper stories. It was how he wanted it.’

  ‘OK, now what about the day he disappeared? Was he behaving differently in any way? Did he say anything to make you think something might be going on?’

  ‘He seemed perfectly fine,’ Mrs Knight said. ‘He was in a good mood because he was going to splash out on some new clothes.’

  ‘You said that he was going to the job centre.’

  ‘That’s what he told me,’ she replied. ‘And after that to the shops. But when the other detectives made inquiries at the job centre they found out that he didn’t show up there.’

  ‘Tony Kemp probably had him picked up while he was on his way,’ Carter said. ‘It was me who first suspected that something was wrong because we’d arranged to have a pub lunch together and he never showed. When he still hadn’t been in contact the next day I told Mum to call the police.’

  Brennan chewed on his tongue as he mulled this over. There were too many unanswered questions. Like why did Knight choose that day to disappear? Was his disappearance part of a carefully constructed plan? Did something happen that made it necessary for him to go off somewhere without telling his family? Could it be he dropped out of sight in order to avoid being seized by Tony Kemp’s heavies?

  For now Brennan had to accept that what Mrs Knight and her youngest son were telling him was the truth and they were not holding anything back. Nevertheless, he told the uniforms to go with them to Carter’s flat to check it out.

  He then called DC Foster to check if she’d found out who in Peckham CID had looked into the disappearance. He was given a name – DI Stanley Coulson – and told that the detective had been contacted and was waiting for Brennan to call him.

  Coulson was happy to chat despite the hour. He’d been shocked to learn that Bobby Knight was now the prime suspect in Molly Mason’s abduction. He confirmed that he and a couple of other officers had only carried out a brief search of the mother’s house but was still surprised that they’d missed the phone beneath the mattress.

  ‘I can only assume we failed to check under the mattress,’ he said. ‘But we weren’t sure what we were looking for. In all honesty, we weren’t even sure how seriously to take the disappearance. For all we knew he’d gone off on a holiday somewhere.’

  He told Brennan they’d visited the job centre and checked the CCTV footage for that day, which confirmed that K
night never made an appearance.

  ‘We tried calling his mobile but it was turned off and therefore not transmitting a signal,’ he said. ‘His phone records show that he never actually used it that day and in the previous weeks most of the calls were to his brother and Tony Kemp’s daughter, Lauren. There were a few to some of his old cronies. We interviewed them but they all claimed they didn’t know where he was and what he was up to.’

  ‘What about Kemp? I take it you talked to him.’

  ‘Of course. But he had a solid alibi for the entire day and said he had nothing to do with Knight’s disappearance. He did tell us the guy had been pestering his daughter and that he’d had to warn him off. But he laughed off claims from the mother and brother that he’d killed him. Without proof there was nothing more we could do.’

  Brennan asked him to email the case file to the incident room in Wandsworth and then thanked him before hanging up.

  By then it was three in the morning. He decided to have a quick look round the house before heading back to the station. But the chilling image of the man in the balaclava with the child in the background kept forcing itself into his mind, making it difficult for him to concentrate.

  40

  Sarah

  We were trapped in an ever-worsening nightmare with no end in sight.

  The news that Bobby Knight was apparently the man who had kidnapped our baby was of course encouraging. But the fact that he had vanished two weeks ago had come as yet another terrible blow. It heightened the pain inflicted by the latest message and photograph.

  The horrific selfie he’d taken was stamped on my retinas and it appeared every time I closed my eyes.

  Sergeant Parker, our FLO, had called to say she’d be over about eight. My mother had phoned to tell me they’d been given the go-ahead to return home since the scene of crime officers had finished the forensic work in the house.

  It was almost dawn now and light was bleeding through the curtains. I’d managed to get a grip on my tears, but the cold terror was still growing inside me. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and not think about what was happening to Molly. That wasn’t an option, though. There was simply no escape from the horror that had consumed us.

  I made things worse for myself by watching the television news.

  Molly was still the top story and the hysteria surrounding it continued unabated. They put up photographs of Molly, although, thankfully, not the ones from the kidnapper, they interviewed police officers, my neighbours, our friends, and a whole range of so-called experts.

  A child psychologist spoke about how Molly’s response to what was happening to her would depend on how she was treated.

  ‘She would no doubt have been traumatised when he held her upside down and spanked her,’ he said. ‘But at that age children are able to forgive and forget relatively quickly if the person who hurts them then demonstrates extreme kindness. The inborn survival instinct teaches them to engage with and trust the person or persons they are wholly dependent upon. The psychological damage that’s done usually emerges much later in life.’

  As I listened to him speak I felt a scream twitching at the back of my throat because I could well believe what he was saying. As a police officer I’d come across children who had been severely abused, usually by their parents or other family members, and it had shocked me just how many of them had managed to carry on a seemingly happy relationship with their abusers.

  The thought that Molly would inevitably become emotionally attached to the man who was being so cruel to her filled my heart with despair.

  I was reminded of the kidnapper’s message that accompanied the photo of Molly in the bath.

  Seems my little darling has already forgotten what happened to her yesterday. I’m sure it won’t be long before she forgets you as well!

  After the child psychologist, there was an interview on Sky News with a woman whose thirteen-month-old daughter was abducted fifteen years ago. The girl was returned to her mother after police found her living with a family of travellers four years later.

  ‘She didn’t remember me or her father,’ the mother said as she sniffed back tears. ‘We were complete strangers to her. It broke our hearts.’

  My own heart crashed to the floor then and I could feel my whole body beginning to quake.

  Adam was suddenly at my side, touching my chin, lifting my eyes to his and telling me that we’d get through this and that I had to stay strong.

  But his words brought me no comfort, and before I knew it the dam had burst again and I was crying uncontrollably.

  I had always regarded myself as a person who could cope and show unlimited resolve in any situation. After all, I’d earned a reputation as a tough and resourceful copper. But this ordeal made me realise that I was far more fragile than I thought I was. I felt like I was being dismantled bit by bit, exposing a core that was soft and weak and vulnerable.

  I wanted the tears to stop flowing and my heart to stop beating so ferociously, but I knew it wasn’t going to happen. I’d lost control of my emotions and there was nothing I could do about it.

  Adam made me a cup of tea and I was drinking it when Sergeant Palmer arrived. She was wearing a dark blue trouser suit today and her long hair was swept back in a severe ponytail. There were dark crescents under her eyes which made me think that she hadn’t had much sleep.

  She told us she was across everything that had happened and that DCI Brennan would shortly be addressing his team at the morning briefing.

  ‘But he’s already launched a nationwide appeal for information on Bobby Knight,’ she said. ‘The news channels will be running it any time now.’

  A few minutes later Knight’s photo appeared on Sky News and my stomach tensed when I saw it.

  The reporter did not mince her words. She described Knight as a convicted drugs trafficker and South London gangster and said he was wanted in connection with Molly Mason’s abduction.

  ‘He was recently released from prison after serving four years of an eight-year sentence for possession of drugs and a firearm,’ she said. ‘Throughout his trial he maintained he was innocent and accused the police of planting evidence to get a conviction. The two arresting officers were detectives Sarah Mason and Adam Boyd, Molly’s parents. Police believe he’s kidnapped their daughter as an act of revenge.’

  They then cut to Brennan making a statement outside Wandsworth police station.

  ‘Bobby Knight dropped out of sight two weeks ago,’ he said. ‘We know for a fact that he’d been stalking Molly’s mother. We believe that having abducted Molly he’s now hiding out in a house or flat somewhere. I’m appealing for anyone who knows where he is or thinks they may have seen him to contact us without delay. It could be that he’s moved into a property close to you. Or perhaps you’ve heard a child crying next door and you’re suspicious because you didn’t realise there were any children living there.’

  It was a powerful appeal and I felt sure it would have a huge impact on the public.

  After Brennan’s little speech the report cut back to Knight’s photo and there was more from the reporter, but she made no mention of the claim that Knight was dead, having been murdered by gang boss Tony Kemp. However, it did say he’d been part of a South London criminal empire allegedly run by Kemp.

  I recalled how during the formal interview process I’d tried to get Knight to place on record the fact that he worked for Kemp. I even told him that if he dished the dirt we’d pitch for a lighter sentence. But he refused and at the time I didn’t blame him because grassing on Kemp would have put his family in peril.

  Adam was also glued to the television. He was standing close to me, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his face still and grim.

  I guessed he was wrestling with his conscience, wondering whether to own up to what he’d done and if it would do any good if he did.

  I was now firmly of the belief that if he confessed at this time to planting the evidence it wouldn’t make any difference and
might actually prove counter-productive.

  ‘There’s something I want you to know, Adam,’ I said and my voice seemed to snap him out of a trance.

  I got up, gripped his elbow and steered him over to the window so that Sergeant Palmer wouldn’t be able to hear what I was going to say. The sky outside was filled with clouds and a light drizzle fell like muslin over the estate.

  ‘At some point you are going to have to answer for what you did to Bobby Knight,’ I said. ‘But now is not the time. I won’t tell anyone and I don’t want you to either.’

  It wasn’t that I forgave him. I just didn’t want to be burdened by the prospect that it would almost certainly shift sympathy and police resources away from us, which wouldn’t help Molly.

  Adam rolled out his bottom lip.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said. ‘I know I don’t deserve it and I promise I’ll do everything I can to get our daughter back.’

  Despite all the trouble he had caused I knew that he meant what he said and I found a small crumb of comfort in his words.

  41

  DCI Brennan

  Brennan delayed the start of the morning briefing until ten to give him and his team time to carry out some checks and make a few inquiries.

  More than forty officers and civilian staff were assembled in the incident room. Some of them had worked through the night, others had managed only a few hours’ sleep. But the room was buzzing with a sense of optimism. They were confident the kidnapper had been identified. Bobby Knight was the prime suspect and that was real progress. They were hopeful that the resulting publicity – including the appeal that had already gone out – would trigger further developments.

  Brennan started by walking them through the events that had unfolded during the night. He said that Detective Adam Boyd had taken it upon himself to go and see Victor Rosetti and had persuaded him to tell the truth. The Romanian had then pointed the finger at Bobby Knight. Brennan didn’t mention Rosetti’s bloodied mouth or the fake gun that Adam might or might not have used to threaten him with.