Twisted

by Lynda La Plante

  Lena nodded, but Reid could sense that she was nervous.

  DC Burrows entered with a tray of fresh coffee, two mugs, sugar, milk and a plate of biscuits. He placed one mug in front of her, picked up his own and heaped in three spoons of sugar but no milk.

  ‘DC Burrows will be taking some notes, and as I said I would like to make as much headway straight away before I come to any conclusion. Your husband is helping to try and trace Amy?’

  ‘Yes, he’s called the local hospitals and the school. He is staying at his flat in case Amy calls.’

  ‘But he has a mobile so she could contact him that way?’

  ‘Yes, we both have, and Amy also has one; we have called her numerous times but it goes straight to voicemail.’

  Reid nodded and said it would be a priority to trace the locations of Amy’s iPad and iPhone as they could contain crucial information, and he muttered quietly to Burrows to get onto it straight after the meeting with Mrs Fulford. He wondered to himself if Amy was not answering any calls because she had run away. He then turned back to Lena and drew his notebook closer, reached into his pocket and took out a felt tip pen.

  ‘Right, you do not know if she has a boyfriend or is in any kind of a relationship; have you any possible clue to Amy having a secret friend, male or for that matter female, in her life?’

  ‘What?’ Lena asked in complete disbelief.

  ‘Is she dating anyone?’ Reid asked, encouraging Lena to answer.

  ‘No, she has never mentioned it to me. She is quite young for her age, but at the same time socially very accomplished as we have travelled extensively on holidays.’

  ‘How about her schoolwork – is she about to take exams?’

  ‘Yes, her GCSEs. Amy is quiet and studious and always in the top three in her class. She’s very bright and to be honest has never had any worries regarding her schoolwork; she’s also very athletic.’ Lena was visibly less tense as she recounted her daughter’s abilities.

  ‘Is there anything, even the smallest detail, that you can think of that might help us?’

  ‘I forgot to mention that one of her drawers in her dressing table is locked and I know she used to keep a journal, so it could be in there. If it is, should I read it? Perhaps it’ll give more information that I can pass on to you?’

  ‘It would be helpful, and if you do find the journal I’d like to see it myself, not to be intrusive but something that may appear trivial can actually be very productive.’

  ‘What else are you going to be doing? I mean, should we get posters printed?’

  ‘We will deal with posters and flyers, but I will need a recent photograph as soon as possible.’

  Lena reached into her handbag and pulled out a silver-framed picture of Amy. ‘I brought one in as I thought you might need it,’ she said, holding back tears. Reid gently took it from her and looked at the lovely face of her beautiful young daughter.

  ‘Thank you,’ Reid said sympathetically; he undid the rear clips and slowly removed the photo from the frame.

  At first, Lena was offended by what she thought was a rather cavalier attitude towards her daughter’s picture.

  Reid noticed the look on her face. ‘I will take a copy of this for the report and national circulation so you can take the original home with you.’

  At once Lena felt more at ease and thanked him for his thoughtfulness as he handed the frame back to her.

  ‘From what I have gleaned so far you feel it’s out of character for Amy to have run away.’

  ‘Totally, that’s why I’m so worried something has happened to her.’

  ‘Do you know if any of her clothing, wash stuff, makeup or anything like that is missing from your house?’

  Lena told him that there didn’t appear to be on first sight and Amy would have taken some things in a cabin bag to Serena’s from school. She also informed him that Marcus had checked Amy’s room at his flat and found nothing to suggest she had run away.

  Reid picked up on the cabin bag and asked Lena if she had questioned Mrs Newman about it. She hadn’t thought to, as she’d become so worried about Amy’s disappearance. He used the bag as a subtle means of probing into Amy’s state of mind at the time.

  ‘It would be reasonable to assume that Amy took a case to Serena’s. If it’s not there now, then she must have taken it with her when she told Serena that she needed to go and see her father and if it’s not at Mr Fulford’s then . . .’

  ‘I know what you’re insinuating, but I simply cannot accept that Amy would run away.’

  ‘When did you last see your daughter, Mrs Fulford?’

  After thinking about it, Lena admitted that it was over two weeks since Amy had actually spent a weekend with her as the one before she went missing was spent with Marcus.

  ‘But you alternate weekends with your husband?’

  ‘As best we can, but it’s quite an informal arrangement and isn’t always strictly adhered to. She rang me from school regularly or I rang her and she seemed perfectly fine.’

  ‘Young people often don’t like to share their worries and fears when they are depressed, especially when their parents’ marriage has broken down.’

  ‘Marcus and I have lived apart for two years now. At first, yes, she was upset, but we remained on friendly terms and Amy came to accept our separation,’ she insisted.

  Reid closed his notebook and was about to stand up when he saw Burrows timidly raise her index finger, and nodded for her to go ahead.

  ‘You mentioned that Amy has an iPad and I just wondered if she uses any social or chat sites on the internet like Facebook, Bebo or anything like that?’

  Reid was impressed with Barbara’s question, as it was something he’d forgotten to ask, having never used or looked at such sites himself. He was also aware that it could be critical to the inquiry and that there was a danger Amy had arranged to meet a stranger through the internet.

  The look of worry on Lena’s face was obvious as she realized the implications behind DC Burrows’ question. The officer had raised something that was crucial to know yet frightening to contemplate.

  ‘I honestly don’t know,’ Lena said, becoming very distressed.

  Reid could hear the fear in her voice and see the redness in her eyes. ‘Don’t look so worried, Mrs Fulford – millions of people use Facebook every day of their lives and no harm comes to them.’

  ‘I want my daughter back, Inspector Reid . . . I just can’t cope not knowing what’s happened to her . . . please find her, please.’ She began sobbing and took hold of his hand as if she and Amy’s life depended on him.

  Remaining calm, he gently eased his hand free, and then gestured to Barbara to assist Lena. Barbara got some tissues out of her pocket and put her arm round Lena.

  Reid couldn’t help but be moved by the turmoil Mrs Fulford was going through, and realized how inexperienced he was in dealing with this kind of missing persons case. In the few months he had run the unit he’d only dealt with two high-risk cases and they were resolved before the homicide unit became involved. An elderly man had disappeared from a care home, and was found in woodland a few days later, having died from hypothermia. The other was a five-year-old boy who had wandered off when his mother’s back was turned and tragically drowned after falling into a neighbour’s pond. In both cases there had been some form of resolution for him and closure for the grieving families. But Amy’s case was different as there were so many unknowns about her disappearance. He wanted it to be resolved quickly for Lena Fulford’s sake, but he knew that he was playing catch-up, with three days having passed since she went missing. He wondered if he should maybe consider her case as high risk and report it to the chief superintendent, but worried that it would look as if he were panicking and jumping the gun. His mind was made up; at present Amy would remain medium risk until there was evidence to suggest that she had come to any harm. Besides, after five days, if she was not found alive and well, protocol dictated he would have to inform the DCS.


  Reid waited for Lena Fulford to regain her composure before he suggested it would be best for her to return home and get some rest. He offered to get Barbara Burrows to drive her home but Lena said that she had her car with her and would be fine.

  ‘I will try and visit you at your house later, Mrs Fulford, as I’d like to meet your husband as well. For now I need to fully brief my team and get the ball rolling in the search for Amy. I will instigate house-to-house enquiries where your husband and the Newmans live, as well as in your own area. I can assure you, Mrs Fulford, we will leave no stone unturned – every bit of available CCTV will be recovered and viewed so as to track and trace Amy’s movements and successfully find her.’

  Burrows was surprised by what DI Reid was saying. He was rattling off everything the missing persons manual advised, but the feasibility of doing everything he said was nigh-on impossible with such a small team on the Richmond mispers unit. Most of their cases were cut and dried – care home or disadvantaged kids who regularly ran away, and in most cases were located within a few days without calling in the cavalry from the murder squads. Amy Fulford didn’t fit the usual profile – she was from a wealthy family, at boarding school, and from her photograph an exceptionally beautiful young girl. Burrows hoped she would be traced quickly.

  Chapter 4

  Agnes was emptying the dishwasher when she heard the door. ‘Hello, Mrs Fulford, you were out early this morning.’

  ‘Agnes, there’s a police officer coming round, I’ve forgotten his name, but he will be here to talk to you about Amy.’

  ‘Oh my God, there hasn’t been an accident, has there?’

  ‘No, but she’s been missing since Saturday afternoon.’

  Agnes shook her head in shock, but Lena had already hurried up the stairs. She threw her coat over the bed and pulled off the polo-neck sweater; she needed a shower as her nerves had made her sweat. Hurrying into her bathroom she turned on the shower as she took off her jeans and kicked her shoes aside. She physically jumped when Agnes tapped on the door.

  ‘Is there anything you’d like me to get you, Mrs Fulford?’

  ‘No, I’m going to get changed quickly and, Agnes, there’s a drawer in Amy’s dressing table that’s locked – have you any idea where the key would be?’

  ‘No, I’ve never even seen the drawer open,’ Agnes said quickly in a defensive tone.

  ‘I’m not accusing you of anything; I’m simply trying to find the key. Do you know where it is?’

  ‘Not a clue. Maybe Amy keeps it with her?’

  ‘Yes. Well, have a look around, I’d like to open the drawer; and Agnes, can you prepare a tray of coffee and sandwiches? Marcus is also coming over and I haven’t had lunch.’

  Agnes went back to the kitchen, thinking that if her daughter Natalie was missing she wouldn’t be ordering coffee and sandwiches, she’d be out searching for her. She never had much to do with Amy, as she was off at the weekends, and always stayed with her daughter in Milton Keynes. By the time she came to work on the Monday, Amy was already back at school. She opened a packet of fresh honey-baked ham and selected some tomatoes and lettuce. Making up the sandwiches, she wondered whether or not Mrs Fulford would prefer the best china, but knowing how particular she was, she decided to wait until she came down.

  Lena closed her eyes; the warm shower was relaxing her. She washed her hair at the same time, soaping up the frothing foam and then using the residue to wash her armpits and then gritted her teeth to turn on the cold water to rinse. As the warm water had relaxed her, the icy cold made her body tingle and she then gave herself a really hard rubdown with a snow-white towel. Naked, she went into the bedroom and turned on the hair dryer, not bothering to carefully style her thick hair, but simply running her fingers through it to dry it as quickly as possible. She gave her still damp hair a few brush strokes and chose underwear, a silk blouse and suede trousers with high-heeled leather boots. Staring at her face in the magnifying mirror on her dressing table, she saw she looked paler than ever, but her skin was fresh and glowing from the icy-cold shower. She brushed on a light powder foundation, soft brown eye shadow and then some mascara to darken her eyelashes. She was very adept at making it appear she wore no makeup, but of late the telltale lines had started showing between her eyes and at their corners, and from her nose to mouth. The only sign that Lena, beneath her carefully created image of fresh innocence, was quite a tough woman were her eyes. They often gave off a steely cold expression, and her mouth frequently turned down into not exactly a grimace but a tight thin-lipped line.

  The doorbell ringing made her hurry out of the bedroom, but by the time she had reached the bottom stair Agnes had let Marcus in. He still had his own key, but Lena had asked him never to use it and threatened she would change the locks if he did.

  Marcus looked dreadful; he needed a shave, his jeans were crumpled, as was his shirt, and he wore an old leather bomber jacket. She didn’t waste time on any pleasantries, but asked him to come with her into Amy’s bedroom.

  ‘Have you found something?’ he asked.

  ‘I don’t know yet; there’s a locked drawer in the dressing table and maybe Amy’s diaries and journal are inside it,’ she said as he followed her up the stairs.

  ‘What had happened at the police station?’

  ‘I gave every detail that I could think of to a policewoman, and spoke with an Inspector Reid who was the detective in charge. He’s starting house-to-house enquiries and was very positive about finding Amy.’

  Marcus gave a cursory look around as he followed Lena up the stairs and onto the first-floor landing. The house looked more or less the same as he had left it. Always the fresh flowers in large bowls, a profusion of plants, and the pictures that they had bought together over the years. The fitted carpet was new, but in the same deep moss-green as it had always been, but there were new brass stair rods, and walking along the landing he also saw there was a new chandelier.

  ‘You’ve done some redecorating,’ he said quietly.

  ‘Yes, mostly to freshen up the place. I have a decorator that comes in over the holidays.’

  She opened Amy’s bedroom door, and he walked past her. ‘Did you tidy it up?’

  ‘No, this is how she left it. The locked drawer is the smaller one, top right.’

  As Marcus crossed the bedroom, he stared at himself in the wide mirror. ‘Christ, I look a wreck, but I didn’t have the time to shave this morning and I had a fair bit to drink yesterday after the divorce meeting.’

  She turned towards him, and suggested that the less they discussed the meeting with their lawyers the better it would appear to the police. ‘I have said we have an amicable separation, and to be honest I almost believed we had, until you appeared with that despicable toad of a man, but I won’t discuss it until we know about Amy.’

  ‘Whatever,’ he said as he bent down to try and open the drawer.

  ‘I should have brought a screwdriver up. I mean, under the circumstances we should just break the lock open.’

  ‘Do you want me to go down and fetch one?’ he asked impatiently and she sighed, nodding her head. He paused at the door. ‘It’s strange coming back here – I’d forgotten how big the place is. Do you know how long it’s been?’

  ‘Yes, I am aware,’ she snapped and he looked at her and then walked out.

  The gates to the large house had been left open and DI Reid was able to pass straight through to the wide drive before parking between Lena’s Lexus and a convertible Mini. The Lexus was highly polished, but the Mini was mud-splattered and looked as if it had not been cleaned for some time. He peered inside it, noticing old parking tickets, newspapers and a pair of jogging shoes, and jumped in surprise when Harry Dunn, Lena’s driver, asked what he was doing. He explained who he was and Harry apologized, and said he was just about to give a quick dust to the Lexus.

  Reid went up the three pristine white steps, past two huge pillars, to the blue-painted front door with its magnificent carved brass lion’s
head on a big looped knocker. Noticing there was also a doorbell, he pressed that. From his former career as an estate agent, he appreciated the value of upmarket property, and this one he reckoned was worth at least four million pounds. It was truly impressive.

  Agnes introduced herself as she led Reid into a sitting room. If he had been impressed with the exterior of the property this vast room was stunning. It had huge white sofas with decorative cushions placed in front of a stone fireplace, wooden logs stacked in the grate. The many windows looked out over a spacious manicured garden; on the York stone paved terrace stood carved tables and chairs. He took off his raincoat and folded it over the side of the sofa arm, but did not sit down; instead he walked around, gazing at all the many collectible items – snuffboxes and a profusion of scented candles which were grouped on side tables; over the mantel there were silver-framed photographs. He was about to take a closer look at these when Marcus walked in.

  ‘I’m Marcus Fulford, Amy’s father,’ he said, and indicated the screwdriver in his hand. ‘I was about to try and unlock a drawer in my daughter’s dressing table – Lena thinks her diary might be inside.’

  DI Reid handed him his card and was introducing himself as Lena walked in.

  ‘I’ve had some sandwiches made, and there’s coffee.’

  ‘Thank you, that’s very kind.’

  Lena called to Agnes to bring in the tray and gestured for Reid to sit on one of the sofas. ‘This is Agnes Moors, my housekeeper.’

  Agnes gave a polite nod, putting down the tray, wondering whether or not Lena wanted her to pour the coffee.

  ‘Thank you, Agnes, I’ll serve. Marcus, do you want to sit down?’

  ‘Sure, unless – do you want me to try and prise the drawer lock?’

  Lena looked to Reid, and he shrugged, but then added that perhaps Mr Fulford could have a chat first as he had already had a lengthy conversation with his wife. Lena poured the coffee and recalled that Reid took it black with sugar; it was all very civilized, yet very tense. Marcus perched on an arm of a sofa and began to tap the screwdriver in the palm of his hand. Reid would have liked to take a sandwich but felt it was perhaps not a good idea as he needed to get started questioning them both, especially Marcus. He had already taken in the man’s untidy appearance, and thought that although he was undoubtedly good-looking, he seemed more agitated than his wife and overall as a couple they didn’t quite fit together. Reid noticed that she had changed her clothes, and appeared even more attractive than before. She passed her husband a coffee, and then lastly poured herself one. She also took a sandwich and nibbled at it, with a napkin balanced precisely on her knee. Marcus refused one, but started to drink his coffee.