by Kerry Watts
‘Apart from my son, you mean?’ Darren yelled, his patience wearing thin. ‘You won’t find my son in there.’
‘Is this all of your son’s things?’ Dylan pointed to the almost bare wardrobe.
‘What? Yes – most of it is in the washing basket. I don’t know. Why does that matter?’
Dylan closed the wardrobe door and focused his full attention on Darren. ‘I want you to take a good look for me. Does anything look out of place in here? Even something small. Anything missing, like clothes, toys, blankets? Anything. Is there anything here that shouldn’t be here that is? Anything you don’t recognise.’
Darren stopped pacing and seemed to be trying to quell the terror that had gripped him. He inhaled a long breath, both hands covering his mouth, and scanned Finlay’s room from corner to corner, exhaling slowly and carefully as he did so.
‘I c-can’t,’ he stuttered. ‘I just… no, I don’t think so. Just Finlay. He’s the only thing missing.’
Dylan placed a hand on Darren’s shoulder and squeezed, but said nothing.
Jessie gave her DC a quick nod – he was taking control of the situation, and this was an early chance to talk to the missing child’s parents individually. She went back to the living room alone and took a seat next to Claire. Jessie noticed the chaos in their home wasn’t limited to the hallway. Here, magazines were piled high. Laundry was strewn across several of the surfaces – or had the items been taken off and simply tossed aside? A thick layer of dust covered the television and mantelpiece. Cards celebrating the birth of a new baby were still up in several places. Jessie’s eyes and nose itched with the dust particles. She sniffed and rubbed at her nose with the back of her hand, then coughed.
‘Hello, Mrs Lucas,’ she began. ‘Could you tell me what’s happened here tonight? When did you realise Finlay was missing?’
Something about Claire’s reaction to their arrival had disturbed Jessie. Darren was distraught, naturally, but Claire had seemed scarily indifferent. Shock, perhaps? Claire finally lifted her head to face Jessie. Then, suddenly, she frowned and leaped up from the sofa, startling Jessie.
‘What do mean, Finlay’s missing?’ Claire shouted. She raced down the hallway and into his room, with a visibly shocked Jessie not far behind. ‘Where is he? Where’s Finlay?’
Dylan was confused and looked to Darren, who seemed just as startled by Claire’s sudden arrival.
‘I don’t understand,’ Darren snapped, scratching at his head and leaving his hair sticking up in three different directions. He turned to Dylan. ‘Claire knows. She was here when I discovered his cot empty.’ He turned back to his wife as she screamed and began hysterically ripping their son’s cot apart. ‘What the hell? Claire, what are you doing?’
‘Finlay, where are you?’ Claire yelled. She tore open the wardrobe, pulling out every remaining item and tossing the hangers behind her, narrowly missing Jessie.
‘Claire, sweetheart,’ Jessie moved closer to the distraught woman, who was now clawing at the bedroom’s beige waffle carpet.
‘Claire,’ Darren whimpered.
Dylan gently took hold of his arm. ‘Come on, stand back a bit. Let DI Blake—’
‘Get off me,’ Darren blasted, yanking his arm free and flopping to his knees next to Claire, who responded by turning and lashing out with her fist, catching Darren’s cheek and sending him to the floor.
‘Where’s my son?’ she screamed in his face, small drops of spit erupting and landing on Darren’s chin.
Jessie moved towards the woman to intervene, but Claire turned and lashed out again, her open palm connecting with Jessie’s cheek.
‘What have you done with my son?’ Claire growled, right in Jessie’s face, her blue eyes manically wide.
‘OK, come on Claire, that’s enough,’ Dylan pulled Claire away from Jessie but her distressed state only deepened.
‘Get off me!’ she screamed, breaking free and ripping the pale blue curtains off the wall.
‘I’m calling the doctor,’ Jessie grabbed her phone while she rubbed her stinging cheek, hot from the impact of Claire’s palm. For a small woman, Claire Lucas could deliver a heavy slap. ‘Your wife is going to need help calming down before we go any further, Darren – that might mean sedation.’
Darren rubbed his jaw and watched in horror as Claire clawed at the corner of the bedroom carpet until she had managed to lift it, exposing the bare concrete floor below. Her nails dug deeper, leaving visible scratches on the surface. Several blood droplets left a trail after her nails snagged in places.
‘What do we do now?’ Darren clasped his fingers together behind his head. ‘We can’t leave her like this.’
Dylan shook his head and stood in front of him when he attempted to move closer to his wife. Her distress was clearly breaking his heart. Jessie glanced up at Dylan’s shocked expression, realising he had never seen anything like this in his life before either.
Seven
‘OK, I’ll be in touch soon,’ Dianne whispered, quickly hanging up the phone on the hall table when she heard Colin’s footsteps coming towards her. She tried to smile as she intercepted him at the kitchen door.
‘There you are,’ Colin said. ‘I’ve made a pot of tea.’
Colin handed Dianne a cup of hot, sweet tea. For the shock.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered, and wiped away the tears that dripped from her cheeks and jaw before tugging the belt of her fluffy dressing gown tighter around her waist.
Colin wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders and kissed the top of her head, wishing he could think of something constructive or helpful to say, but words weren’t Colin’s thing. He was more a man who used his hands. Give him a dilapidated shell of a house that others might demolish, and Colin could transform it into a home fit for a king. He often worked with little Finlay’s grandad on projects – he too owned a small building firm, and employed his son-in-law Darren. He felt terrible for them, and for Dianne, too. His wife seemed as devastated as if Finlay were her own child. In truth, Colin had been worried recently that she considered the little boy to be exactly that. He had grieved for their daughter for a long time after she died, but Dianne took it much harder, and now the hysterectomy on top of it meant any chance of a family was lost. He knew Dianne would have made a wonderful mother. She had been a fantastic mother to Stacey. Dianne had so much love to offer a child. Losing their daughter was the worst thing Colin had ever been through, and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone. They had talked about adoption or perhaps fostering, a while back. And then they’d got Benson, too. That was all before the cancer that had robbed Dianne completely of any chance of having her own baby. But Colin still had Dianne. She was alive, and that was what mattered most to him. He couldn’t stand the thought of living without her. Sacrificing any potential pregnancy was a price worth paying to him. Dianne was his world.
‘Why don’t you finish that and try to get some sleep, eh?’ he suggested. ‘You can go over and see Claire in the morning.’
‘How can I sleep? What a ridiculous thing to say,’ Dianne snapped. ‘Finlay has been snatched from his cot, for goodness’ sake!’
‘I know, I’m sorry.’ He held up his hands. ‘I don’t know why I said that, I’m sorry. That was stupid of me. The police are probably going to want to talk to us tonight too, aren’t they?’
Dianne tried to sniff back another burst of tears but failed, then whimpered, ‘Where is he? Who would do such a terrible thing to an innocent wee baby boy?’
‘Come here, sweetheart.’ He reached out his hands and pulled her close to his chest. ‘I don’t know. I wish I did.’
Dianne gripped him tight and sobbed into her husband’s shirt, soaking it quickly with her frightened tears. Colin spotted Finlay’s blue blanket on the counter behind them and frowned.
‘I’m going to take this into the living room.’ Dianne pulled out of his embrace then lifted her mug of tea and nodded towards the door. ‘Are you coming?’
‘I’ll be
through in a minute,’ he answered, and watched her until her back disappeared through the door, which he closed gently after her. He turned and picked up Finlay’s blanket, then lifted the kitchen curtain. He peered out and into Darren and Claire’s window, where he could see Darren’s angst-ridden expression as he was comforted by the male detective. Colin laid the blanket back down and switched off the kitchen light before heading into the lounge.
Eight
Jessie opened the front door and ushered in a man who had ‘doctor’ written all over him: brown corduroy slacks and blazer; black leather medical bag. The only thing missing was a pair of half-moon glasses perched over the edge of his nose, threatening to fall at any moment. Instead, his green eyes were unadorned, other than by the dark circles underneath them, suggesting to Jessie that his day had already been very long.
‘I’m Dr David Lambert, a senior partner of the practice in the village. I know the family well. Ouch, that looks painful,’ he added, sucking air in through his teeth as he spotted the hot, red mark on Jessie’s cheek.
‘Yes, watch yourself. She’s got a pretty good right hook.’ Jessie’s attempt at humour didn’t go unnoticed, as Dr Lambert smiled kindly. She found herself tidying her hair then smoothing it back down to flatten the bumps.
‘Will do, detective.’ He grinned again and wiped his feet on the doormat before following her inside.
‘Claire is in that back bedroom and Darren is in the kitchen with my colleague. I’m DI Blake, by the way.’ Jessie held out her hand to shake his, pleasantly impressed by his firm grip. He looked like he could handle this situation. ‘Go straight through.’
Darren appeared from the kitchen. ‘Dr Lambert, thanks for coming so quickly. She’s just flipped. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Darren, it might be better if you wait out here until I’ve examined your wife. Is that OK?’ Dr Lambert suggested.
‘I dunno, maybe I should come with you?’ Darren seemed unsure, until Dylan stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.
‘Come on, let him do his job.’ The DC spoke quietly, and Darren went back into the kitchen with more ease than he seemed to have anticipated.
Jessie scrunched up her nose and nodded her thanks, and Dylan answered her gesture with a wink of one of his brown eyes before he pulled the kitchen door behind them. She turned her attention to the doctor, who she could see was listening at the closed bedroom door. All Jessie could hear now was a series of whimpers, accompanied by occasional bangs and cracks on what she figured must be the bare floor.
‘Wish me luck,’ Dr Lambert said, his hand gently pulling on the door handle.
Once he was inside, Jessie rested her head on the door and listened for a moment, long enough to be immensely impressed with Dr Lambert’s calm manner.
* * *
David Lambert smiled as he popped his head round the kitchen door.
‘That’s me off now, Darren,’ he announced. ‘I’ve given Claire some diazepam, and here are a few more, just in case she needs them. They’re fine to take with her other medication, don’t worry. How are you holding up?’
Other medication? Jessie mused, her interest piqued instantly.
Darren shrugged as his fingers curled around the tablets. He sipped on the coffee Dylan had made. ‘Thanks for coming.’
‘I’ll be back in the morning to see her.’ Lambert’s hand dropped onto Darren’s shoulder and he squeezed.
Jessie nodded to him before he closed the front door behind him, eager to quiz Darren on the other medication the doctor had referred to.
‘What other medicines does Claire take?’ Jessie asked Darren directly. ‘What are they for?’
‘Erm, she takes anti-epileptics, although she hasn’t had seizures in years, and antidepressants for post-natal depression. It’s been hard for her since Finlay was born. She’s found it tougher than she imagined, becoming a mum.’ He flopped down onto one of the kitchen chairs and grabbed his head in his hands. ‘Oh my God, what’s happening? Where is he? He can’t have just vanished, for goodness’ sake. Babies don’t just disappear.’
Could Claire’s depression have something to do with Finlay’s disappearance? Jessie struggled to get her head around it. The young mum’s behaviour was strange. Was it the shock, or was something more sinister going on here?
‘I know this is hard for you. I understand—’ Jessie began. It proved a poor choice of words.
‘You understand?’ Darren scoffed. ‘Exactly how many of your children have been stolen, Detective? How can you possibly say you understand?’
Nine
The bed creaked as Calum McBride dropped his six-foot-two, muscular body down next to his wife. His job as a personal trainer kept him in great shape. Maggie was flicking through her running magazine; not really reading it but trying to distract herself from the thoughts spinning around inside her head.
‘I am so ready for bed.’ Calum yawned and tugged the duvet around his shoulders. ‘Come here and warm me up,’ he teased, and reached his cold hands out to hug her.
‘Calum, stop it,’ Maggie shot him a glare and slapped his arm away. ‘Your hands are freezing.’
‘Sorry, babe,’ Calum laughed, his deep-set blue eyes dancing. He rolled over to face the other way. ‘My first client isn’t until ten tomorrow, so we could maybe have a long lie? We haven’t done that for ages, have we?’
Right then Maggie could think of nothing worse than a romantic lie-in with Calum. Lying to him was troubling her more every day. Her increasing guilt made the sight of him irritate her, as if in some twisted way he was to blame for her feelings. She slid out of bed without answering and stepped into her slippers.
‘I can’t sleep. I’m going to make myself some hot chocolate,’ she said, without looking at him.
Maggie found herself staring out of her kitchen window at the frozen ground. The car would take some scraping in the morning, she feared. Probably be quicker to get the bus to the gym rather than drive. The pavements around their street could be treacherous in winter – the gritter wasn’t really able to get to the minor roads and paths up here. Maggie decided she would pull on her good hiking boots and walk to the bus stop instead tomorrow. The sound of the kettle clicking off startled her out of her daydreams. As she made her hot chocolate, her hand drifted over her stomach.
‘Hey, you, I’ll have one as well.’
‘Shit, Calum, you scared me.’ Maggie put a hand to her chest then turned back to the kettle.
She switched it on again, not turning to face him. Instead she continued to sip her drink as she stared out of the window. Then it just happened. She didn’t know the tears were there until the first one burst out and trickled down her cheek, then dripped off her chin. Her emotions were all over the place recently, thanks to her hormones.
‘Maggie?’ Calum moved forward and spun her round to face him. He tilted her head towards him and wiped her tears away with his thumb. ‘What’s wrong? Has something happened?’
Maggie nestled her face into his chest and he held her close while she sobbed, soaking his bare skin. She listened to the increased rhythm of his heart. She had clearly worried him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, unsure whether he had heard.
‘It can’t be that bad. Tell me, babe.’ Calum kissed the top of her head.
Maggie sniffed and rubbed her face with the back of her hand and stared up into her husband’s soft blue eyes. She swallowed back a tear and smiled. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Ten
Jessie pushed Claire’s bedroom door open with caution. She didn’t fancy getting a matching red-hot cheek. She needn’t have worried. The diazepam had taken effect very quickly and Claire was now sleeping deeply, curled into the foetal position on her bed. Darren tapped Jessie’s shoulder.
‘Can I go in now?’ he asked.
Jessie scrunched up her nose and shook her head, then allowed the door to close softly behind her. ‘Let’s you and I go and have a seat and a wee chat, yes?’
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Jessie was relieved to see Darren nod, and he followed her into the living room without question before offering both detectives a seat. He blew out a huge breath and sat with his body tipped forward, his head in his hands.
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ he exclaimed, then sat bolt upright. ‘I should have been here. I shouldn’t have left him, them. But I’ve got to work.’
Darren’s words tugged at Jessie’s heart, but she couldn’t afford to be swayed by emotion. She sat on an armchair opposite him. Dylan turned to face the door when he heard more vehicles arrive outside.
‘That will be more uniforms arriving. I’ll go.’ Dylan said before heading out.
‘What’s happening?’ Darren asked as he stood to peer out the window. There was a police van with its back doors open, and a flurry of uniformed activity. ‘Where is he going?’
‘Sit down, Darren. There are some more officers arriving to help with a door-to-door search, that’s all.’
‘My God, there’s a dog.’ Darren panicked and began to pace back and forth. ‘Why is there a dog here?’
Jessie moved towards him and rested her hand on his arm. ‘Come on, sit down. A dog is part of any search team. It’s procedure.’
Darren’s eyes searched Jessie’s for answers as he sat back down. He tried to swallow back the terror that was rising in his chest. ‘OK,’ he murmured under his breath. His nerves were still fragile, and likely to spin out of control at the slightest provocation.
Jessie coughed to clear her throat and opened her notebook. ‘You mentioned that Claire has been finding things tough since Finlay was born. What did you mean by that?’
Darren narrowed his eyes at her. There it was. ‘Are you serious?’