Twisted

by Lynda La Plante

  Lena busied herself ejecting one tape and inserting the other, then came and sat close to him. ‘I have to be honest – you know, we used to takes reels and reels of videos, and I don’t even recall sitting watching these latest ones, and Amy never asked to watch them. I am not making excuses, but this one was taken when Marcus and I were not getting along, although at no time did we ever make it obvious to Amy.’ She pointed the remote at the television and pressed play.

  Reid found it slightly uncomfortable to be sitting so close to her, not that she appeared to notice. Leaning forward with her attention on the screen, she fast-forwarded, stopped and gestured towards the TV set. Reid watched the footage of Amy, who was wearing another floppy straw sunhat, big round dark glasses, and a white bikini. She was tall and lithe, bordering on skinny, but somewhat surprisingly for a thirteen-year-old, there was a definite sexual quality to her as she walked towards a sun lounger. She was carrying a bottle of water and a book.

  ‘This was when we were in Antigua; we had a cabana opening onto the private beach,’ Lena said quietly. Amy bent to a small side table by the lounger and put down her bottle of water and book. She then picked up a folded yellow beach towel and carefully shook it out to fold over the cushions. She removed her sunglasses, holding them laconically in her left hand and with her right she snatched off her sunhat and threw it angrily towards the camera.

  ‘Turn that fucking thing off!’

  It was quite shocking to hear her swearing. Her thick blonde hair fell loose to her shoulders and she was stunningly pretty, but her face was contorted with anger. The camera angle moved to the side and then it shut off. There were a few seconds of close-up on sand as the film started again and Lena could be seen using the sun lounger next to Amy’s; she was deeply tanned, her body oiled, and she was wearing the same sunhat. The sea was only ten feet or so away; palm trees swayed gently beside their cabana and now Amy was filmed coming out of the water, her wet hair plastered back from her perfect face as she moved closer towards the sun loungers. She bent to pick up her towel and then realized she was being filmed. This time she twisted the towel and began to flick it towards the camera, shouting for it to be turned off.

  ‘Who’s doing the filming?’ Reid asked.

  ‘Marcus. That’s him laughing.’

  Reid sneaked a look at his wristwatch as Lena began to fast-forward the footage. He couldn’t understand what point she was trying to make, but didn’t want to appear uninterested or upset her by asking. She showed another scene of Amy sitting reading her book, and then Amy curled in a foetal position at the edge of the water as it gently lapped around her. Reid was becoming impatient as he really had more pressing issues to deal with and although he appreciated being shown the footage, he decided that he should get on with his job.

  ‘Thank you, Mrs Fulford,’ he said, about to stand.

  ‘Please, I’m not finished. You may not realize it, but she is never smiling, not on any of the footage, and I have been trying to recall exactly when this was filmed, because what you have just seen is not like Amy, and there is one section that has really disturbed me.’

  Reid thought to himself that it was just a growing teenager with angst who didn’t like being filmed. But being polite he waited as she fast-forwarded through what appeared to be candlelit dinners, beach volleyball games, and then she turned to him.

  ‘This section, and before you ask, I actually filmed this because I remember going into her room; we were going to have dinner on the beach.’

  The interior of the cabana was very simple – white muslin drapes, white duvet and sheets, and a mosquito net surrounding the double bed. Numerous flickering candles gave the room a shadowy yellowish glow. The slatted door was open and through it could be seen the soft yellow beach beyond the veranda and the glistening dark sea, like a picture postcard of tropical calm. Amy was naked on the bed, her blonde hair splayed out across the pillow. There was just a few seconds of the film before Amy swiped away the mosquito net and her face distorted with rage as she shouted, ‘Get out and leave me alone!’

  The camera was switched off, and Lena turned to Reid. ‘You want to see it again?’

  ‘I can’t really see the point, Mrs Fulford.’

  ‘Then you didn’t see what she was doing, and nor did I until I replayed it. She was masturbating and she was only thirteen years old,’ Lena said, distressed.

  Realizing how upset she was, he didn’t think it wise to view the tape again.

  ‘I’m sorry, I missed it, but I don’t doubt what you saw, Mrs Fulford. There could be an innocent explanation . . .’

  ‘Innocent? She’s only fifteen – why would she behave like that? I’m worried that she may have been abused.’

  Reid himself was more open-minded and wondered if it was just the actions of a young girl who was discovering her body when her mother walked in unannounced. He wanted to try and change the subject and end the matter for now.

  ‘I will seek the opinion of a child protection expert back at the station,’ he said quietly, without elaborating on what she perceived to be the shocking content of the home movie.

  She started walking back and forth, wringing her hands, reiterating that she should have been more aware and how guilty she felt that she had not seen the video before now. Suddenly she stopped. ‘Oh God, it was shortly after we returned from the holiday that Marcus suggested the separation. I remember now.’

  Reid wondered if she was trying to cast aspersions on her ex-husband, or was suspicious about Marcus’s relationship with Amy, but he didn’t want to press her in case he was wrong and she became even more upset than she already was. He decided to approach his predicament from a different angle.

  ‘Has Mr Fulford seen the video you just showed me?’

  ‘No, no, not yet, but you see when she came home she showed no signs that anything was wrong but there had to be. I feel wretched about it.’

  ‘Well, maybe you should discuss it with him as well and let me know what he says about it. Amy’s behaviour may be related to something that happened in Antigua, so it will help if you make a list of everyone you can recall who came into contact with Amy during that holiday.’

  ‘Yes, yes, I’ll do that.’

  Reid still didn’t know for certain if Amy had been sexually abused, and with Lena in this nervous state he felt that it was not the right time to start questioning her on the possibility.

  As he opened the door into the hall, Harry Dunn entered via the garden doors. Lena turned to demand of Harry in a high-pitched voice why he was there, as she had not asked for him. Harry apologized as he had been told to vacate the garage by a dog handler.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ she cried, becoming even more agitated. ‘Inspector, just why are you bringing dogs into my house?’

  ‘It’s a cadaver dog, Mrs Fulford,’ Harry said, and then wished he’d kept his mouth shut as Lena had to grip hold of the back of a dining chair.

  ‘Why? Why have you got them here – is there something you haven’t told me?’ she asked accusingly. Reid explained it was just a precaution as there had been a lot of movement seen in and around the garage.

  ‘You think her body was in there?’

  Reid, increasingly exasperated, again repeated that it was a precaution, and they had no evidence that anything untoward had happened to her daughter. Lena seemed to calm down, and Reid finally managed to excuse himself and went out to the garden. He crossed the wide lawn and made his way to the rear of the garage, where the dog handler was working with a small spaniel. The dog was wagging its tail as his handler made a fuss of him. ‘Good boy, that’s a good boy.’ The dog handler looked towards Reid. ‘Nothing, he’s been all over the garage with no reaction, I even moved the boxes left on the side there, but it’s all clear.’

  In the kitchen Harry hovered at the door, listening as DC Burrows continued fending calls. Agnes joined Harry and jerked her head for him to move further away.

  ‘They brought in a cadaver dog,’ she
said.

  ‘I know, they’re still out there; it’s just a little black and white spaniel.’

  ‘It’s because of us packing up the bloody boxes and they obviously think Amy’s dead.’

  ‘Oh Christ,’ Harry said.

  At this point the two forensics officers came down the stairs from Amy’s bedroom carrying plastic boxes. They had removed clothing, bed linen, and a few items from which, with luck, they could lift Amy’s fingerprints. Both men had been taken aback by the immaculate orderliness of the room, and they had found it difficult to find sets of prints, which was unusual. They had been warned about the broken drawer, but every surface had been wiped clean and in the en-suite bathroom they had found no prints at all, although they had removed a toothbrush. Even the hairbrush had been recently cleaned and no stray hairs were caught between the bristles.

  ‘You find anything interesting?’ Reid asked quietly, appearing in the hallway to meet them. He was not terribly surprised to hear that they had never come across such a well-cleaned room, especially as it belonged to a teenager. In a bathroom cabinet they had found bottles of window spray, bathroom tile cleaner, marble polish and sets of surgical gloves similar to the ones they themselves used.

  Reid told them they should get back to the lab, and to get a move on with testing not only the items removed that morning, but everything from Marcus Fulford’s flat. He had also ensured that forensics has been given Amy’s overnight cabin bag. He then went to have a word with Agnes, who was dusting along a wooden cabinet that looked as if it was already polished to within an inch of its life.

  ‘Do you clean Amy’s bedroom?’

  ‘Well, I give it a hoover and obviously change the sheets, but she is very particular about keeping it spotless herself. I mean, I have a daughter, a lot older than her, but she’s never been so obsessive about her bedroom. She sprays the shower in there after every use; she can be in there for hours polishing and dusting, and that includes her perfume bottles and moisturizer and she has a place for everything.’

  ‘That’s very unusual in a young girl,’ he remarked, encouraging the woman to continue.

  ‘Yes, I know. The reason I know just how obsessive, and I am using the right word, she can be is because once I’d moved something or other and she knew, gave me a right ticking off, saying that I was not to touch her personal things. From then on I’ve never touched anything because she is a right little madam, she can get this nasty tone to her voice, looking down at me as if I’m beneath her. I mean, I don’t want to say anything bad about her, but she is a very arrogant young woman.’

  This was a somewhat different picture of Amy to her previous description. It was obvious Agnes didn’t like her – in fact he was getting used to realizing that the portrait they’d all painted of her was cracking.

  ‘Will you take care of Mrs Fulford?’

  ‘Yes of course. Will Barbara be staying on? If she is, I’ll prepare some lunch.’

  ‘That would be very kind.’

  In the kitchen, DC Burrows was still answering the phones, but they had quietened down somewhat. Glancing up as he came in, she asked if he would like to look at the names of the callers, which she had divided into two lists, personal and press.

  Reid skimmed the list of private calls, remarking that a Gail Summers had rung frequently.

  ‘What’s the connection?’

  ‘She runs Mrs Fulford’s children’s party business and seems desperate to talk to her; she appears genuinely very concerned. The other frequent caller is a Marjory Jordan – she said she was Mrs Fulford’s therapist and again was obviously very concerned about the missing girl.’

  Reid passed the notebook back, asking DC Burrows to make a copy for him and to remain at the house. ‘And look, if Marcus Fulford calls or makes an appearance, then let me know. I’m going to have to head back.’

  ‘Of course.’ Barbara Burrows smiled as confidently as she could, hoping that this was all making a good impression on her boss.

  Back at the incident room, DS James Lane was waiting as they had received a call from the television station to say they could do a three-minute slot on their new crime show, Crime Night. They were semi-interested in broadcasting a reconstruction, but it would take a few days to set up and would be used the following week – obviously, only if the girl was still missing.

  ‘How did it go at the house?’ Lane enquired and Reid sighed, taking his seat behind his desk.

  ‘As you can imagine, there was a highly charged atmosphere.’

  ‘About the cadaver dog?’

  Reid smiled. ‘A bit, but the dog didn’t react to a thing, not even a bloody yelp out of it. Mrs Fulford’s got herself all worked up that Amy was sexually abused because she was masturbating in a video.’

  ‘What?’ a startled-looking Lane remarked.

  ‘It may be something or nothing, and if you blinked you’d miss it. Thing is, I think she suspects her husband as the abuser.’

  ‘You think it’s the father?’ Lane asked and Reid shrugged, reluctant to admit that was what he suspected, as he was also loath to cast aspersions until he knew for sure.

  Lane pressed him. ‘Did she say as much?’

  ‘No, and part of me was worried, in case I was wrong, that if I asked her she’d bite my head off. There’s a good deal of dysfunction in the family and to be honest the quiet innocent teenager everyone has described Amy to be is now appearing to be something of a Lolita.’

  Chapter 16

  Marcus attempted yet another call to Lena, but the landline had been engaged for hours and Lena’s mobile went to voicemail. Frustrated and extremely anxious, he decided he would drive over to the house.

  Marcus found Lena holed up in her bedroom. ‘What the hell is going on, Lena? I’ve been trying to contact you all morning.’

  ‘The phones have been ringing here since eight o’clock and I’m at breaking point!’ she shouted.

  He sat her down on the bed. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realize, and I shouldn’t have had a go at you. Tell me everything that’s happened, but slowly and calmly please.’

  Lena told him about the search in the house, the cadaver dog and the video she’d discovered of Amy masturbating. Visibly shocked, he protested that she should have shown it to him the previous evening. Again she became angry, insisting that at first she had not really taken in what Amy was doing but had shown it to Detective Reid as she felt it was important he should know. Marcus was totally taken aback and almost in tears.

  ‘How could you do that without first consulting me about it?’

  ‘Consulting you? What the hell is the matter with you? Amy was naked and masturbating!’

  ‘I never filmed that – dear God, that bloody detective is bound to think it was me.’

  ‘I told him it was me filming and it was accidental.’

  ‘What fucking else did you tell him that I don’t know about?’

  She clenched her fists. ‘Maybe if you would just think about it for a second you’d see what I mean. For Amy to behave like that, someone must have been abusing her while we were on holiday.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous; you’re jumping to conclusions, and besides, she’s a teenager who wasn’t expecting you to walk in with a camera.’

  ‘Stop making excuses, Marcus.’

  ‘Excuses for what – your wild imagination?’

  Lena paused and stared at him accusingly. ‘Was it you abusing her?’

  He had to stop himself from slapping her face and shaking some sense into her. He stood up and moved away, knowing he had already been unable to control himself once before, and he didn’t want to hit her again as it was so against his nature.

  ‘Was it you, Marcus?’ she asked in a distressed voice.

  ‘No, I have never touched Amy improperly in my life. Even the suggestion makes me feel sick,’ he said, sinking into a wing-back chair by the window.

  ‘Reid has asked me to make a list of everyone from the Antigua holiday. Last night we both agreed
that her behaviour in the Antigua video was different – she’s aggressive, and not like her normal self. I even tried to talk to you about it after the holiday, but when we returned you said you needed to have some bloody space, and moved out.’

  ‘Don’t try and put the blame onto me, Lena. You know full well that before we even went to Antigua we were hardly speaking. Maybe that was why Amy was different and looked so miserable – because of us.’

  She put her head in her hands and started to cry. He sat there watching her, at a loss not only as to how to comfort her, but how to face the fact that their daughter might have been sexually abused and neither of them had been aware of it owing to their own emotional problems. At last he got up and went to her side, putting his arms around her.

  ‘Come on, sweetheart, let’s think this through together. Even if we come up with someone, the reality is Amy’s gone missing two years later and it might have nothing to do with Antigua, but we need to really think long and hard about whose names we should give to the police.’

  He rocked her gently in his arms as he looked over to her bedside cabinet. ‘Are you taking your medication?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He reached across to look at the label on the sleeping tablets.

  ‘You shouldn’t take these on a regular basis.’

  ‘I need them to get some sleep.’

  ‘Are you still seeing your therapist?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He stroked her hair. ‘Do you want me to ask her to come over?’

  ‘No, I don’t want to see anyone.’

  There was a light tap on the door; it was DC Burrows, asking if Marcus would ring the station if he intended leaving.

  ‘Is there some news?’ he asked anxiously.

  ‘I’m afraid not, but DI Reid wants to see you. He may be coming back to the house later or perhaps you would call him. Mrs Fulford, I have made a list of all your personal calls in case you want to ring back, and your answer machine for your business line is full, so I think you should perhaps check those messages and delete some, because when they can’t get through they call on your private line.’