Lost Girls Read online

  ‘Wife, kids?’

  He shook his head. ‘Nah, cor stand the little fuckers. Do nothing but bleed yer dry. Footloose and fancy free.’

  He winked at her and the bile actually rose in her throat.

  She covered her mouth and coughed. Her sign to Bryant she was done.

  Finally she allowed the mask to drop and every ounce of repulsion she felt showed in her eyes.

  ‘Lee, you certainly haven’t improved with age. You may not be where you expected to be but you're exactly where I expected you to be.’

  Bryant sidled up beside her. She turned and walked away.

  She had detected no deceit in the man at all. Had he been involved in an operation as complex as a double kidnapping he would have carried a more superior air. There would have been a smug self-satisfaction, a delight in his own cleverness.

  Kim felt sure he knew nothing of Charlie's existence. No shadow had passed over his face at the mention of kids.

  Yes, she could have done it the easy way and questioned him directly but to do so would have alerted him to the fact he had a daughter. A fact Lee would have no doubt tried to use to his advantage at some stage.

  Truthfully, she cared nothing for protecting the fragile barrier Karen had constructed around her family. It was a web of lies she would eventually have to confront.

  She'd done it for Charlie. Lee Darby was a father the child did not need. She had Robert. For now.

  ‘Where to, Guv?’ Bryant asked, as they stepped out into the fresh air.

  ‘Back to the house,’ she said.

  After hitting a bricked-up dead end she hoped to hell there was something in those files.

  Twenty-Nine

  ‘Kev, anything?’ Kim asked. Dawson had been recalled to the house for a catch-up before the behaviourist arrived.

  The frustration was evident on his face. ‘According to my new best friend downstairs, Inga hasn't brought anyone back to the flat in months. None of the other neighbours speak to her much and all verify that they only ever saw her alone.

  ‘Showed her picture at the local shops. She used the hairdressers for a dry cut a few times and had a couple of take-outs from the Chinese but no conversations. Ran into the team from Brierley Hill who’ve been assigned the break-in but they’re wondering why there’s no complainant.’

  Keeping the force blackout was equally as difficult as blindfolding the press.

  Tracking this girl down was proving impossible. For Inga's sake Kim hoped it was proving equally difficult for the kidnappers. The only explanation for the woman darting from the ambulance was fear. She had bottled it. Kim seriously doubted it was part of the plan. It would have made more sense for Inga to wait inside the hospital to be collected or simply leave later but to make a scene outside the hospital told Kim that Inga was now running scared.

  ‘Stace?’ she said, turning her head.

  ‘I've sent out begging emails to the phone networks. I've gor acknowledgements and they politely kept the belly laughs to a minimum. I've gor a possible address on one of the families from the last case but the other family is a bit ’arder. Probably change of address and last name.

  ‘Of the list of possibles given by the parents, there’s one with a criminal record for petty theft which Robert confirms that he knew about when he gave him a job. The rest are clear except for most of the names on Stephen's list. That's my next job.’

  ‘Anything useful about the two mobile phones used?’

  ‘Pay as you go bought from different networks with initial credit included. Both bought with a cloned credit card from Manchester and delivered to a post office box in Ealing.’

  ‘Well, that gives us …’

  ‘Eleven months ago, boss,’ Stacey clarified.

  ‘Damn it,’ Kim growled. It would have been a long shot anyway but no one was going to recall a person who had rented a post office box that long ago.

  ‘Shows how long they’ve planned to take these two girls,’ Bryant said.

  ‘Not these two girls,’ Kim said. ‘Shows how long it's been a plan but not specifically who they were going to take. There has to be a link to one or both of these families. There has to be a reason they caught the kidnapper's eye.

  ‘Okay, everyone grab a pile,’ she said as she took a stack of papers from the nearest box. ‘I want to know if there are any clues as to why the girls were chosen in the previous case.’

  Everyone nodded and reached for a portion of old case notes.

  ‘Hey Guv, imagine if this doc tries to profile you,’ Dawson said, smiling.

  Bryant snorted. ‘For that they could have my sympathies and my house.’

  ‘And a well-deserved pay rise,’ Dawson added.

  Kim smiled at them both.

  ‘Shit, Dawson, she's smiling,’ Bryant observed.

  ‘That'll be me shutting up then.’

  ‘Now there's a good idea,’ Kim said.

  She leafed through her own pile, which contained witness statements mixed with call logs, officer reports with possible sightings and the tip calls to the hotline all over the place.

  ‘Oh damn,’ Kim groaned, as a picture came into her mind.

  She darted from the room and returned two minutes later with a framed photograph from the side of Charlie’s bed.

  ‘The swimming gala,’ she said, removing the clipping from the frame.

  Kim read it quickly, her heart sinking lower with each sentence. When she'd finished she placed it on the table and pushed it towards Bryant.

  ‘Talks a lot about them being best friends. Amy's father, “the esteemed prosecutor”, is quoted, as well as “local business owner”, Robert Timmins.’

  As the article travelled around the table Kim marvelled at its revelations. The girls were passionate swimmers and they both had wealthy parents. Even without any help at all it wouldn't have taken long to track them to Old Hill Leisure Centre and the lovely picture of the two of them holding up their medals made them easy to identify.

  Bryant blew out a whistle. ‘A perfectly innocent article that pretty much reveals everything.’ He looked closely at the top of the page. ‘And this was published in June.’

  Yes, she had done the sums herself. If this photograph had been the catalyst, they had taken nine months to plan.

  ‘So, what does this tell us, Guv?’ Dawson asked. ‘Are we now not concerned with enemies or family members? Has this information narrowed our search?’

  ‘No, Kev, it's blown it right open.’

  She could no longer operate under the assumption that a party known to the families was involved.

  That scenario at least held the beginning of a trail, and if it was there she would find it, but Kim also now had to face the fact that the choice of girls was random and had been prompted by a newspaper article.

  As the possibility of a family connection faded she had to hope that they were dealing with the same crew as last time. Every sentence, fact, contact or witness noted previously had to be re-examined in the hope that somewhere they had inadvertently left her a crumb.

  ‘Okay, everyone back on case notes,’ Kim instructed. It was time to dig in.

  Thirty

  Will checked the charge on mobile phone number three. The first two were placed to the far left of the table and were switched off. He didn't expect a reply. Not yet. That would come later, after the next message.

  He lined up the remaining phones, ensuring the top edges were flush with each other. Each phone had a two-inch gap between itself and its neighbour.

  Satisfied that the equipment was in order, he returned to the script. He had read this message a hundred times but it had to be perfect. Last time he hadn’t taken enough time over the wording. Hadn’t savoured it in his own mind enough.

  There had been many flaws the last time. He had thought he could do everything on his own but this time he’d had help that had taken two forms. The first had been the most unlikely and had approached him. The second he had courted.

  He had
found Symes before the couples had been chosen and from the first meeting he’d known he had his man. There were necessary stages of the process and he needed Symes at the end. The man’s cold ruthlessness left him free to enjoy his part of the job.

  He read the text message again. This time he wanted maximum impact for every word. But what he really wanted was to be there when the message was read.

  There was an almost breathless excitement within him that he'd never felt on the night before Christmas. As the middle child of seven, there had been little to anticipate. His first memory was his weary mother handing him the Argos catalogue with an instruction. Put his initials next to something that was under a tenner, she said. He did and she passed the weighty book to the next child in line.

  And then the first day at school every other kid would reel off every single present that Santa had brought. He had felt the envy grow inside him. Not only for the gifts but for the belief in a magical myth. He told every kid he could find that Father Christmas didn’t exist and explained it was all a fat lie. Girls and boys alike had cried and protested and argued and eventually accepted and then cried some more. And he had laughed, because he had mattered.

  His parents had believed in nothing. A tooth placed beneath the pillow had still been there in the morning. Easter eggs came from Asda and were three for a quid.

  He wanted the money. He wanted their money. He wanted to take something from people who had it all.

  Will tried to picture the faces of the families when he ripped apart their lives. Oh, how he wished he could see it for himself, but he couldn't. He would just have to sit here and imagine.

  Just one more hour until he sent the text that would change their lives forever.

  His thoughts travelled to his colleague. He had expected him back by now with the task complete. There was no choice about Inga's fate. She had acted foolishly and she would have to pay. She knew too much to stay alive. She was a stupid bitch who had succumbed to the nerves and he felt nothing for her fear. Her emotions had proven useful in the beginning but now threatened to derail the whole project.

  She had to die and she had to die soon.

  And he hoped Symes really took his time.

  Thirty-One

  ‘Whoever sorted these records should be taken outside for a good kicking.’

  ‘Shut up moaning, Kev, and get on with it,’ Kim snapped. But she completely agreed with him. Their first full day of investigation was nearing to a close. Charlie and Amy had been missing for almost thirty-six hours and it felt like they were getting nowhere.

  What was more worrying was that, if the investigation had been carried out with the same level of efficiency as the filing, Kim understood why it had gone so horribly wrong.

  ‘Why do you reckon only one of the girls came back?’ Bryant asked.

  ‘Don’t know – but I'm willing to bet the answer is in here somewhere.’

  A soft tap sounded on the door. Helen popped her head in but didn't step over the threshold.

  ‘Marm, there's someone here to see you: a Doctor Lowe.’

  Kim pushed back her chair and headed to the front door, passing through the haze of deliciousness wafting from the kitchen.

  The figure before her was slim and tall, dressed in a pencil skirt, high heels and a power jacket. The woman's chestnut bob was joined together by a blunt fringe.

  She turned with a fixed smile that didn't reach the cool blue eyes.

  ‘Doctor Alison Lowe,’ she said, pleasantly. ‘You're expecting me?’

  ‘The profiler?’ Kim clarified. She struggled with the term ‘doctor’ for people without white coats or scrubs.

  ‘I prefer behaviourist,’ Lowe said with a tinge of impatience in her voice.

  ‘Of course,’ Kim answered, with a smile. Woody had made it clear she was to be nice to the seconded experts, yet the expression just did not fit well on her face.

  Kim thrust out her hand. Alison appeared startled. Maybe she’d done it too quickly. Truthfully, Kim abhorred physical contact with strangers – unless she was throwing them to the ground.

  ‘Pleased to meet you,’ Kim said in unison with a brief touching of palms.

  ‘And you are the senior investigating officer?’

  She preferred detective inspector, but she’d let it go.

  Kim appraised the woman’s attire and smiled. ‘Thank you for coming straight here but if you'd like to go and book into a hotel, get sorted and come back …’

  ‘I already did, Officer.’

  ‘Oh, no problem,’ Kim said, wondering who dressed like this at six thirty in the evening. ‘Follow me and I'll introduce you to the team. They’re all dying to meet you.’

  As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Kim realised that may have been overkill. But she felt her natural disposition was unlikely to endear her to the woman.

  ‘Guys, this is Doctor Alison Lowe, our consultant behaviourist.’

  Doctor Lowe used only her toes to navigate her way to the head of the table.

  ‘Please, call me Alison,’ she said, offering a perfect public speaking voice and a smile that was equally allocated around the room. She placed the briefcase onto the dining table, nudging a coffee mug that Stacey caught just in time.

  ‘This is my curriculum vitae, just to give you a little background on my credentials.’

  She handed them around the table.

  Kim glanced at the CV and idly wondered if Alison had been a child prodigy; one of those kids who finished medical school by the time they were twelve. A degree in sociology, another one in psychology and an impressive amount of capital letters.

  What she couldn't see clearly was testimony of practical work.

  ‘So, if you'd like to ask me anything, please do.’

  Bryant coughed. ‘Can you give us some idea on the type of cases you've worked in the past?’

  Trust him to know what she was thinking and to have the skill to phrase the question infinitely better than she would have.

  Alison smiled at Bryant as though she had anticipated the question.

  ‘I assisted on a triple murder investigation in Edinburgh and I assisted on the case of a multiple rapist in Hertfordshire.’

  Kim was unsure as to what level 'assisted' denoted her involvement but this was not a job interview so she chose not to press it. Woody clearly trusted Alison’s judgement and Kim trusted his.

  ‘So, where would you like to start?’ Kim asked.

  Alison moved away from the easy chair and sat at the table.

  ‘I’d like to get an outline of the case so far. I understand there was a similar incident last year.’

  ‘That's correct,’ Kim confirmed.

  ‘If I could have those case notes, also.’

  Kim indicated the numerous piles of paperwork. ‘Please, feel free.’

  Alison looked around the table. ‘No methodical order, I assume.’

  Kim was prevented from answering by a knock on the door. Dawson was closest and rose to answer it.

  Kim leaned back in her chair and saw Karen.

  Karen looked past Dawson to Kim. ‘Dinner is ready if you have the time.’

  Her three team members looked at her longingly.

  ‘Go ahead,’ she said, rolling her eyes. She made a mental note to speak to Karen. It was not the woman's job to feed the investigative team and, although she could understand it gave her a purpose, it had to stop. Eating together produced an intimacy, like family gathering at the table for the evening meal to discuss the day. Her team could not be lulled into discussing anything.

  ‘Feel free,’ Kim said to Alison.

  ‘I've already eaten, thank you. I'd prefer to get started.’

  Kim waited until the door closed. ‘Okay, two nine-year-old girls taken from a local sports facility. The collecting mother's car was tampered with to prevent her arriving on time. Our first kidnapper was dressed as a police officer and was spoken to by a member of the facility staff who was murdered last night.

&
nbsp; ‘Chosen form of communication is by text. Two messages received so far. The content of which is written on the board.

  ‘The girls are best friends and both appeared in a news article a few months ago, where the careers of both fathers were mentioned. And to answer what I’m sure will be your first question there has been no ransom demand as yet.’

  Alison stared at the board and rubbed her chin.

  As Kim outlined what they had so far she realised just how little it was.

  She continued. ‘At this point we're working through lists of potential enemies to the two families but we have to consider that they were chosen due to the article.’

  ‘Hmm … that last text message is a little concerning.’

  Kim nodded her agreement. ‘Yep, looks like we've got ourselves a psychopath.’

  Thirty-Two

  Symes necked his second beer, which did nothing to improve his mood.

  All day he'd been chasing after this slag and he'd not got one sniff.

  He held up his hand for another pint. If there wasn't work to do he'd be downing the spirits but he just wanted to relieve a bit of his anger. Just take the edge off.

  He'd argued against involving her in the first place. They hadn't needed the stupid cow and he'd been right. But fucking Will had insisted on it.

  One thought did amuse him briefly. He tapped his pocket. She wasn't going anywhere without her passport.

  Some of the damage he'd done to her place had been a by-product of his efforts to find the document that would keep her close by. The rest had been to give her an idea of what she'd be getting when he caught her. And he would.

  The thing was, Will's assessment of his intelligence had been seriously underestimated. He wouldn't have seen off two tours of Helmand if he was as stupid as he looked.

  Symes had researched Inga first. His natural distrust of every living being dictated that you had to know who you were dealing with.

  He knew where she went for coffee, where she had her hair done and did her shopping. He knew everything about her. He also knew that human nature dictated that in times of high stress people returned to their places of safety.