Lost Girls Read online

  ‘Really?’ Karen asked.

  ‘No, I'm not nearly as indispensable as my husband. If I'm sick the next batch of queries simply goes to the closest paralegal. Not so for Stephen. Even a severe case of food poisoning isn't enough to stop the case queries coming through.’

  Karen pretended not to hear the edge of bitterness in Elizabeth's tone. She knew her friend had met Stephen at law school and when the relationship started to suffer as they’d both tried to attain their law degrees, she had put her own career on hold to support him. The general plan had been that she would resume her studies once Stephen became established. Then Amy had put in a surprise appearance, followed by Nicholas.

  Karen would have liked another daughter or even a son. She hadn’t yet given up hope that maybe one day she would bear Robert’s child. She had never used contraception and Robert had no need to question his virility. In his mind he had fathered Charlie.

  Karen knew Elizabeth didn't hold her career stall against her children. She was a wonderful mother but her buried animosity towards her husband was another story.

  What had started out as a casual acquaintance due to their daughters meeting at nursery had grown into a deep friendship outside of the fondness their children held for each other.

  A shared love of eighties music and Chinese food had formed the foundation of many interesting Friday nights. The relationship between their husbands was not as close, but they got on and endured each other’s company for the sake of their wives and children.

  Stephen, Elizabeth and Robert had made numerous calls to employers, colleagues and friends to explain their absence from work, meetings, social events. Their phones had tinged with constant acknowledgements, replies and get well soon wishes.

  Karen had made no calls. Her circle was a very small one. And she had no issue with that. Elizabeth had been astounded at the absence of a housekeeper for such a large property and even though Robert had suggested it many times, Karen always refused.

  ‘Have you checked on Nicholas?’

  Elizabeth nodded. ‘He's having a fabulous time. I couldn't talk for long. The temptation was too great.’

  Karen understood Elizabeth's feelings. Something within her said that the more people who knew, the better it would be. A bit like rallying the troops. That someone would be able to offer something that would get their children back.

  ‘Do you think we're doing the right thing going along with this media silence? I mean, maybe we should be getting people involved?’ Elizabeth said, echoing Karen’s thoughts.

  A part of Karen wanted to scream it to the world. She wanted hundreds of people out looking. And if she felt in her heart that it would bring her daughter back she'd do it in a heartbeat.

  But she could think of nothing worse than a trail of family, friends and colleagues in and out of her home offering well-meaning platitudes. She couldn't face the pressure of having to remain pleasant and courteous to people while Charlie was still missing. Once she was home Karen would throw a party and the whole world could come.

  Karen concentrated hard on the utensils, ensuring she cleaned every surface three times.

  ‘You know something, Kaz,’ Elizabeth said with a tremor in her voice. ‘Wherever our girls are, I hope more than anything they're together.’

  Karen felt the emotion gather in her throat. There were times when she felt she could cry no more.

  But as she looked at the tears falling from the eyes of her friend she realised there were always more tears.

  They fell into each other's arms and cried as though their lives depended on it, sharing the pain only they could understand.

  Karen whispered into her friend's shoulder. ‘I hope they are too.’

  A moment later Elizabeth pulled away and dried her eyes.

  ‘Do you trust her?’ Elizabeth asked.

  Karen nodded without hesitation, knowing Elizabeth spoke of Kim.

  Their paths had crossed a few times throughout their childhood years. Initially, Karen had been intrigued by the girl's black hair and dark features. There was something exotic about her looks.

  Kim had always been a loner, which had made her all the more interesting. Karen couldn't remember one single friend of Kim's. She had not sought close relationships and had shut down all efforts to befriend her. She didn't want to belong, or affiliate to make her life easier. She'd just wanted to survive.

  Elaine had been Karen’s best friend and had hated Kim with a passion. She had tried to recruit her into their group and it had failed. After that, she tried to manipulate Kim with hard stares and the occasional push and shove.

  Karen recalled the day Elaine had been playing a cruel game of Shadows. She’d spent the day mimicking Kim's every movement, staying no further than two feet behind. Many of the other kids had thought it was a great game and by tea time the audience to the antics had swelled to include most of the children's home.

  Karen had gone along for the ride. Not because she was scared of Elaine but because she was captivated by Kim's steely composure as she went about her business as though she was not being mimicked by twenty stupid girls.

  Kim had waited until bedtime. She’d undressed before them all, cleaned her teeth and washed her face, impervious to the jokes taking place behind her.

  As she’d packed away her toothbrush she’d turned to Elaine and smiled pleasantly. ‘Oh, sorry, Elaine, I didn't see you there.’

  The entourage had grown silent as Kim made her way to the bathroom exit. She’d paused and turned.

  ‘Is it not a little sad that you give so much thought to someone who never thinks about you?’

  Kim had waited for five seconds for an answer before pushing her way through the crowd of silent girls and going directly to bed.

  Kim had been thirteen years old and the only person Karen had ever known who was not frightened of Elaine.

  ‘I would trust her with my life,’ Karen said, honestly.

  But as she said the words, Karen realised that it was not her own life she was entrusting to the detective.

  Twenty-Eight

  ‘So, what’s on your mind, Guv?’ Bryant asked as they passed through Dudley.

  ‘Nothing. I’m fine.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You let me drive and you only do that when you need thinking time.’

  ‘It’s nothing … I’ll sort it.’

  ‘I have no doubt about that but you might sort it quicker if you throw stuff at me.’

  ‘That’ll help?’ she asked.

  ‘Not literally. I know what you’re like so I absolutely promise to give no useful advice whatsoever. Just speak the problem out loud.’

  ‘Tracy Frost isn’t the reason Dewain Wright died,’ Kim said and actually felt a small amount of relief that the words were out there. ‘She visited the house last night – which is a whole other problem – but she insisted about Dewain so I grabbed the file from the station and took a closer look.’

  ‘But she leaked the story so how …?’

  ‘The timing was off. We … I assumed it was her because everything happened so fast. She was breaking it, don’t get me wrong, but he’d been dead ten minutes before the first newspaper hit the shops.’

  ‘Shit, so someone else let Lyron know that Dewain was still alive?’

  Kim nodded her head and then looked out the window.

  The constant stopping and starting at the countless traffic lights on the Birmingham New Road was beginning to irritate her. Bryant only needed to take one of them on amber and they’d fly through the rest.

  ‘That kid really got to you, didn’t he?’ Bryant asked.

  Kim didn’t look Bryant’s way. Yes, Dewain Wright had got to her, because he was one of the bravest young men she had ever met. He had known he was risking his life in trying to leave the gang but he had tried to do it anyway.

  ‘So, what are you gonna do?’ Bryant asked. ‘You don’t like loose ends, and with this case …’

  ‘I can’t even think about working another c
ase and not only because I promised Karen. I need to be focussed on Charlie and Amy and bringing them home.’

  Bryant nodded his understanding. ‘So, you can’t work on it.’

  ‘I know that, but I’m not going to just ignore the fact that somebody leaked out that the lad was still alive, so causing his death. He deserves better than that.’

  ‘God forbid you should allow anything to dangle loosely from one of your cases,’ he tutted. ‘But you are really tied up at the house.’

  She looked at him sideways. ‘Do they pay you extra for repeating everything I say?’

  ‘Nah, I do that by choice.’

  ‘Aah,’ she said, as the penny finally dropped. ‘I know what you’re thinking and I like it.’

  ‘I’m thinking nothing at all. Just listening, like I said I would.’

  She knew now exactly what she was going to do and would address it when they returned.

  She turned towards him as they pulled into the prison site. ‘As usual, Bryant, thank you for being absolutely no use at all.’

  ‘Any time, Guv.’

  * * *

  From a distance the scale of HMP Featherstone’s door set into the dense brick barrier reminded Kim of a cartoon, as though any entrance to the facility had been an afterthought.

  Kim liked to think the architect built it high and built it strong, then took a look and thought, oh, damn it, forgot folks need to get in.

  Featherstone in Wolverhampton had never been the poster child for effective incarceration. It celebrated the birth of the Millennium with a survey that found thirty-four per cent of inmates admitted to taking drugs. At least a third could be added for those who didn't admit to it. In 2007 the prison had beat off competition to score the highest percentage in the UK for testing positive for opiates such as heroin.

  In recent years three new sparkly blocks had been added, branding it a super-prison and almost doubling the capacity for category C prisoners.

  They were met beyond the pixie door by a uniformed officer who looked like she was playing dress-up. Kim guessed her to be no older than twenty-one. Her frame was slight and her face innocent.

  Kim knew that looks could be deceptive but they weren't outright liars. She just prayed to God this girl didn't hold the opinion that all the prisoners were decent and misunderstood and that if she treated them with respect they would reciprocate.

  They weren't and they wouldn't.

  Bryant showed his badge and she took a good look.

  She shook her head. ‘There's no visiting today, it's Monday.’

  Kim really appreciated the weekday update. She opened her mouth but luckily Bryant was quicker.

  ‘We called earlier and spoke to—’

  ‘Everything okay, Daisy?’ asked a male, from the doorway to the rest of the prison.

  Bryant was quick to flash his badge. ‘We have permission. If you call—’

  ‘I’ve been informed,’ he said, brusquely.

  Bryant continued. ‘We need to speak to one of your inmates. It's important.’

  Kim guessed the man to be early fifties. His white shirt was crisp and open at the neck, revealing a severe shaving rash.

  ‘Step through,’ he said, pointing to the metal detector.

  They both emptied their pockets and placed keys, phones and change into the tray. Kim breezed through but a forgotten pen in Bryant's inside pocket prompted a scream from the machine.

  ‘We need to see Lee Darby,’ Kim offered, reaching for her possessions.

  ‘You'll have to leave your belongings here,’ the officer said, passing the tray to Daisy.

  Kim watched the tray disappear beneath the desk. She protested. ‘Officer …’ she looked closer at his name badge ‘…Burton. I'd like my—’

  ‘You're not getting past this point with keys, phones and warrant cards.’

  ‘Play nice, Guv,’ Bryant said, disguised in a cough.

  Begrudgingly, she accepted this was his play pen, not hers, and sighed heavily.

  He reached over the desk and handed them two visitor passes.

  ‘Finally, do you have anything sharp?’

  Bryant stepped forward. ‘Can you take out her tongue?’

  ‘Nature of the visit?’ Burton asked, ignoring Bryant's comment.

  ‘Confidential,’ Kim answered.

  Burton appraised her for a full five seconds. Kim didn't blink.

  He turned. ‘I'll show you to the visitors’ suite.’

  ‘We would prefer to go to him,’ Kim stated.

  Officer Burton stopped walking. ‘That is highly irregular.’

  ‘I understand that,’ Kim offered. This could not appear to be a planned visit. Kim’s one purpose was to establish if Lee Darby was involved in the abduction of his own daughter. First she had to find out if he even knew about Charlie. ‘But that's what we need and I cannot stress the urgency enough.’

  Kim began moving forward.

  Officer Burton maintained pace. He checked his watch and considered for a moment.

  ‘He'll be in the gym, basketball practice. There will be many other inmates.’

  ‘Don't worry about Bryant,’ Kim said. ‘I'll protect him.’

  ‘Inspector, your safety is my responsibility.’

  ‘Okay, Officer,’ she conceded. ‘I promise not to move away from you. Is that okay?’

  If her plan worked, she wouldn't need to.

  He thought for a moment then nodded his agreement.

  ‘So, what's he like?’ Bryant asked, as they walked along the corridor. Each stretch of identical hallway was interrupted by the constant locking and unlocking process.

  Somewhere in this building a small team of people maintained intelligence on every single prisoner. They knew who they spoke to, who they didn't, which of them were enemies and, more importantly, which of them were friends.

  ‘He's one of our aspirationals,’ Burton offered.

  ‘A what?’ Kim asked.

  ‘We give ’em personality types. Our Lee likes to try and mix above his station.’

  ‘How so?’ Bryant asked.

  ‘Like everywhere else, there's a hierarchy, a tier system in prison. The bottom layer, the biggest, is made up of petty crime: prisoners in for repeated shop theft, car theft, stuff like that. They're with us for a relatively short period each stretch. They tend to stick together and stay away from the prison politics. Mainly because they're not here long enough.

  ‘Next tier up you've got the career thieves, GBH inmates in for a medium stretch. Our boy likes to try and mix with the big boys. The conversations aren't what you'd call lengthy. Probably just long enough to be told to piss off.’

  ‘Not popular then?’

  Burton shrugged. ‘He might be if he stopped trying to get in with the hardest guys. Knocking your missus about is never going to do it. Especially not with him.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because she testified in court and got him banged up, so even his woman isn't scared of him. He's not as low as the paedos, but he isn’t far off.’

  ‘And he keeps on trying?’

  Burton nodded. ‘Gives him something to do.’

  ‘Any other trouble?’ Kim asked.

  ‘Few fights but nothing serious. He's added a few months to his sentence and his first stab at parole comes the end of this year.’

  Burton keyed them into a lobby that housed the door to the gym hall. Kim knew the prison offered many sporting activities, including badminton, bowls, volleyball and football. She also knew that prisoners at Featherstone had approximately ten hours’ out-of-cell time each day.

  Oh, if only she ruled the world.

  Burton turned to her. ‘Umm … is there no way you could stay out of sight and let your colleague …?’

  ‘Bryant, go talk to that short guy over there. Pretend to know him,’ she said, poking her head into the doorway.

  Bryant offered her a strange look but did as she asked.

  Kim stepped inside the room and stood against the
wall looking nowhere in particular. Burton sighed deeply but stood next to her.

  The scent of a new woman was like cocaine to a drugs dog. She half expected them all to run to her and sit. As anticipated, every pair of eyes in the room turned towards her.

  It took approximately four seconds for the men to identify her as a police officer, which killed their interest. All except for one.

  Kim didn't look in his direction but peripherally saw him tilt his head and saunter towards her. It appeared that he'd adopted his Sunday-best gangster walk on her account. A slight bounce and then leg drag. It was the funniest thing she'd seen in days.

  Burton moved closer.

  Lee held up his hands. ‘’S all right, dude. I know this bitch.’

  ‘Hey, watch your—’

  ‘Kim?’ he said, finally standing in front of her. ‘It is, ain’t it; Kim Stone?’

  She allowed her gaze to fall on him. It remained blank.

  ‘It's me … Lee … Lee Darby. We grew up together. We was mates.’

  Jesus, he was talking to her as though he actually believed the crap coming out of his decay-ridden mouth. Her recollection was a little different.

  Kim tipped her head and frowned. A slight smile hovered over her lips. Oh, go on then, she'd play his game for a little bit.

  ‘Oh yeah, I remember you. We were at Goodhampton together.’

  He smiled widely. It did his mean face no favours. ‘That's it. Yeah, I heard yer was a pig but I gorra be honest, I day really believe it.’

  Kim looked around at her environment as though only just realising where they were having this conversation.

  ‘How'd you end up here? I thought you had it all worked out,’ she said, shortly.

  ‘Just a blip. Your lot always gerrin’ the wrong bloke for shit. I never did nothing. Just wrong place wrong time.’

  Aah, so it was some kind of mistake that he happened to be on the end of the fist that was pummelling his girlfriend all the way to intensive care. How very unfortunate for him.

  ‘So, what are you doing with yourself when you're in the right place at the right time?’

  ‘A bit of buying, a bit of selling.’

  Kim nodded her understanding. Anyone who believed him should come see her. She had a nice bridge in London to sell.