Kitabı oku: «Little Girl Gone», sayfa 3
6
Ray watched as Trent exited the patrol car and headed over to the Crime Scene Manager. Alex was staring at him from the back of the car, and although he could see the pain in her eyes, he turned away.
She needed comfort and support, but he didn’t trust himself to provide it. Maybe once upon a time it would have been easier, but not anymore. He wanted to reassure her: to tell her that he wouldn’t rest until Carol-Anne was back safe and sound. He knew if he went over there now and tried to empathize, he would allow his own anxiety and terror to seep through the cracks in his armour, and then he would be no good to anyone.
He had to remain strong for Carol-Anne, and if that was at the expense of Alex’s delicate emotions then so be it. He didn’t want to turn his back, but he didn’t have enough strength for both of them. Carol-Anne was his priority, and getting her home safe his only objective.
‘Can I have a cigarette?’ he asked, as DC Owen Hargrove approached.
Owen reached for the packet and opened the lid. ‘Thought you quit.’
Ray drew a cigarette from the packet and placed it between his lips. ‘I did.’ He leaned in as Owen held the lighter forward.
Taking a deep drag, Ray had forgotten how toxic that first inhale tasted. Like a mixture of antiseptic and faeces. He quickly exhaled and took a second pull, the endorphins beginning to bubble somewhere in his head. ‘Thanks.’
Owen squashed the lighter into the carton, and handed it to Ray. ‘Keep them. I get the impression that won’t be your last.’
Owen was giving him that look, a mixture of pity and relief that he wasn’t the one suffering the pain. Ray knew the look as he’d offered it to victims of crime on so many occasions, yet he’d never realized how tough it was to face. He could feel the lump growing in his throat, and took another drag on the cigarette. There would be a time for him to deal with the toll of the emotion and stress of the situation. Not yet.
Ray nodded his thanks. ‘Where are we with locating local security camera footage?’
‘No street cameras in the local area, and considering where the car park is – off a residential street – there are no local businesses with cameras pointed in this direction.’
‘What about that one?’ Ray asked, pointing at the tall pole directly behind the car park that he’d spotted on arrival.
Owen’s face contorted. ‘It points directly at the ticket machine, and the cars in the immediate vicinity, though that’s only about five or so of them. It was set up to capture anyone trying to steal from the machine. And the footage isn’t great. It isn’t a live stream, rather still images captured every ten seconds.’
‘Have you watched it?’
Owen nodded. ‘Alex can be seen approaching the machine, then leaving the shot, which is presumably when she turned the alarm off, and then returning to purchase her ticket.’
‘At least that proves she isn’t lying about what happened.’ He inhaled deeply, welcoming the burn in his throat. ‘And there are no cars or people seen entering or leaving the car park in that time?’
Owen shook his head. ‘It’s as good as useless, mate. It isn’t even in colour. I think the owners must have put it up more as a deterrent than to actually serve a purpose.’
‘Can I see it?’
‘Trent has instructed us not to share any information with you, unless she clears it first. You know how it is.’
Ray fixed him with a look, forcing eye contact. ‘Come on, Owen, what harm can viewing the footage do? Please?’
Owen returned the look, before finally relenting. ‘Okay, but it stays between the two of us. Trent can be a Rottweiler and I don’t want her on my arse.’
Ray remained where he was while Owen moved across to one of the SOCO team vans, returning a moment later with an iPad, holding it to his chest, and standing directly in front of Ray so nobody would see what they were doing.
Tapping the screen, Ray watched as Alex came into view, the shot captured at 14:47:20. She could be seen studying the sign above the machine, calculating how much she would need to pay. In the next image, Alex could be seen staring back at the vehicle, before disappearing in the next shot, as Owen had described, and then returning at 14:47:50. At 14:48:40, Alex was facing the car, and at 14:48:50, she was out of shot.
‘I want to watch it again,’ Ray said, discarding the cigarette and squashing it under foot.
‘Why?’ Owen asked. ‘I’ve watched it a dozen times, and there is nothing going on in the background. Just Alex and the machine.’
Ray glared until Owen tapped it again and the first shot appeared on the screen. The grainy image wasn’t ideal; and it was only because they knew the figure to be Alex that they could actually be certain it was her. Even if another figure had appeared in the background, there was no way they’d be able to identify who it was.
‘A two-minute window,’ Ray concluded when the footage once again stopped.
‘How do you figure that?’
‘At 14:47:20 she is looking at the machine, and she isn’t heading back to the car until 14:48:50.’
‘Yeah, but she moves away to switch off the alarm at 14:47:40, and is staring at the car a minute later, leaving a fifty-second window at best.’
‘Not if the culprit was already ducking down behind the car when Alex left. Let’s say for a moment that whoever took Carol-Anne had it all planned. Somehow they knew Alex would be here and would leave Carol-Anne in the car. It’s what, a twenty to thirty second walk to the machine from where she’s parked? Which would mean she first turned her back on the car at 14:46:50. If the culprit opened the door, and pulled Carol-Anne out, they could have been well away by the time Alex first turns back to look at the car at 14:47:30. Even if they were still crouching down by the car at that point, there’s still another minute to get away.’
‘And go where? Alex didn’t see anyone.’
‘Another vehicle more than likely. She didn’t look in every car. What if the perpetrator was already in the car park waiting for Alex to arrive? He or she could have returned to their car and waited until Alex wasn’t looking again, then driven off.’
‘You’re basing this on no evidence whatsoever.’
‘It’s like a magician’s trick: smoke and mirrors. With the heavy rain, condensation on the windscreen, a car park packed full of cars, and a mother under extreme stress, it’s the only explanation that fits.’
‘It doesn’t narrow down who took her or why.’ Owen quickly apologized for the remark, having briefly forgotten how involved Ray was. ‘I’d better get the iPad back to the van before anyone realizes it’s missing.’ Owen paused and squeezed Ray’s arm. ‘We’ll get her back, mate. You have to let us do what we do best.’
Ray wasn’t listening, his imagination already working through a list of suspects who would want to see him suffer such cruelty. He’d locked up his fair share of villains over the years, but none who would devise a revenge as complex as snatching a child from an open car park. Yet what else did that leave?
For now he needed answers from the only witness at the scene. Making his way to the patrol car, he climbed into the back, unable to bring himself to meet Alex’s eyes.
‘You said you looked away for thirty seconds at most.’
The confusion on Alex’s face revealed she hadn’t been expecting this to be his opening gambit. ‘It’s true.’
Ray shook his head, hating himself, yet unable to stop the words leaving his lips. ‘Thirty seconds from the car to the machine without looking at the car. Then twenty seconds initially until the alarm sounds, and then another fifty seconds buying your ticket. Almost two minutes where you weren’t watching our daughter.’
‘No, Ray, it couldn’t have been that long—’
‘I’ve seen the security footage! How could you be so reckless, Alex?’ He still couldn’t meet her gaze as he uttered the words, feeling her pain as much as his own.
‘I-I-I,’ she began, unable to string together the words needed to explain her actions.
‘I’m going to have you driven home,’ he continued, not prepared to listen to anything more she had to say; at least not yet. The pain burned deep in his chest, and to remain in her presence would only lead him to say something he would later regret.
‘I see you’re smoking again,’ she said bitterly, as if trying to strike back.
It was like waving a red rag at a bull. Turning, he glared at her, pointing his finger just inches from her face. ‘You have no right to judge me for anything right now.’
And with that, he climbed out, wanting to hug his wife and tell her everything would be okay, and equally wanting to berate her for losing their daughter. Lighting a second cigarette, he stalked off into the darkness.
7
‘I don’t want to go home,’ Alex growled as Owen watched her from the front of the car. ‘Let me help search for her. I’m her mother, and she needs me.’
It wasn’t Owen’s fault, he’d been told to drive her home. As far as DI Trent was concerned, they’d taken and questioned Alex’s statement, and now she was just getting in the way of their investigation.
‘Someone will call as soon as there is any news,’ Owen tried to reason, but calming highly strung women clearly wasn’t one of his strengths.
‘Wherever she is, she’ll be frightened because I’m not there. She’s never spent a night without me nearby. Even when Ray puts her to bed, I still kiss her goodnight. There hasn’t been a single night when I haven’t held her close and kissed her.’ She didn’t like the look of pity shrouding the young detective’s face.
‘What about a public appeal?’ she blurted. ‘You could put her picture on the news and tell everyone in the city to look out for her. Or the radio? Maybe I could speak to the local radio and put her description out there. Maybe someone would come forward and say they’ve seen her.’
She couldn’t keep the desperation from her voice, nor could she sit idly by and wallow anymore. A time for grieving might come eventually, but while she could still feel CarolAnne’s life force, she would keep fighting.
She was fighting a losing battle as far as Owen was concerned, though. His DI had ordered him to drive Alex home and no amount of reasoning or valid arguments would deflect him from that course of action.
‘Can I get you anything?’ Owen asked, as he pulled into the driveway and killed the engine.
Alex didn’t answer, instead staring out the window at the big brick building that had never looked so alien to her. If it wasn’t for a slight recognition, she would have said he’d brought her to somebody else’s house. With no lights on, and the curtains open, the building looked unloved and abandoned. Hadn’t it been a loving home? Carol-Anne had known she was loved by both her parents, right?
‘I could pick up a takeaway for you,’ Owen continued, watching her from the mirror. ‘Or if you need me to go to the shop, then—’
‘Thanks, I’ll be fine,’ Alex replied, avoiding eye contact. She was determined not to cry in front of him. The rest of the journey home had been filled with awkward silence; awkward because she didn’t feel like engaging, and he clearly hadn’t known what to say to someone experiencing a living grief.
She clamped her eyes shut as her fingers brushed against the door handle, but they refused to coil around it, her body fighting against going in and her worst fears being realized. Even though Ray had already confirmed Carol-Anne wasn’t at home, to see it with her own eyes would be to finally admit that her daughter was gone, maybe never to return, and the weight of that would crush her soul.
‘Is there anybody I can call to be with you?’ Owen asked.
With no brothers or sisters, Alex’s circle of friends had dwindled since she’d given up work to be a full-time mum, and although her social media feeds listed dozens of ‘friends’, there was no one she would want to see now. Sophie was her closest friend these days; even so, she didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of Alex’s current emotional state.
She shook her head, forcing her fingers around the plastic handle.
‘I think DI Trent said she’s assigning a Family Liaison Officer to support you. I can wait until she arrives if you’d like?’
There was desperation in his voice, but it suited her best to decline the offer, much to Owen’s evident relief. Pushing the door open, she stepped out into the cool and damp air. The rain had stopped and the atmosphere made it clear a reprisal could be imminent at any time. Reaching into her handbag she removed her house key, grimacing at the ‘World’s Best Mum’ key ring that dangled between her fingers. It was all she could do to stop herself tearing it off and throwing it to the gutter.
Owen was still in the car, waiting for her to enter, so as she pushed the door open, she waved without looking, then pushed the door closed with her bottom before crumpling to the floor, her head in her hands.
She couldn’t have been there for more than a few minutes when there was a gentle knocking at the door. Had Owen heard her wailing and come to check on her? That was the last thing she needed: the pitying look of her husband’s colleague.
Or maybe Ray had finally come to his senses and had come home to offer the support she needed. Wiping her face with the backs of her hands, she forced herself up and took several deep breaths to compose herself, before pulling the door open.
‘Oh you are home,’ the woman on the doorstep said cheerily, clutching a bottle of white wine. ‘I wasn’t sure as your car isn’t in the drive and all the lights are off. Have you just got home?’
Alex frowned at her friend. ‘Sophie? What are you …?’
Sophie’s puzzled expression mirrored Alex’s. ‘It’s Tuesday night? You said Ray was going out to play squash and I should come over for a girly catch-up. Sorry, am I too early? You did say come after seven.’
The memory fired to the front of Alex’s mind. ‘It’s Wednesday.’
Alex studied Sophie’s face. Her elfin-like bob curled at the fringe, and despite the bright choice of eye shadow, she wore little other make-up to accentuate her high cheekbones and silky-smooth skin.
‘Yes, it’s Wednesday, silly! Oh, and before you ask I had a text from Noemi, and – surprise, surprise – she can’t make it. That woman is such a flake. For someone who works in IT, she is so disorganized.’ Sophie continued into the house, oblivious to the pained expression on Alex’s face. ‘I would understand if she had children or a man in her life, but once again she’s bailed at the last minute.’ Sophie paused when she saw Alex was still by the door. ‘Don’t tell me you forgot! Have you made other plans?’
‘No, not exactly, it’s just …’
Sophie was already through to the living room, turning on the main light and looking around, pausing when her eyes fell on Alex’s swollen face still sheltered by the front door. ‘Oh gosh, what’s happened? Are you all right?’
How could Alex begin to explain the magnitude of what had happened that afternoon? They’d been friends for two years, since Alex and Ray had moved in next door to her. As a single woman with little responsibility other than her lease, how would Sophie understand the torment?
‘Is it Ray?’ she pressed. ‘Has something happened? You can tell me, sweetie. You know I’m discreet.’
Alex allowed Sophie to lead her through to the living room; it didn’t feel like home as she sank into the armchair. Carol-Anne’s scent still filled the room, and for a moment Alex allowed herself to pretend none of the last few hours had occurred.
Sophie reappeared a moment later with two large glasses and the bottle of wine she’d brought over. Pouring a generous measure into each, she handed one of the glasses to Alex. ‘Take your time, sweetie, I’m not going anywhere.’
Alex took a sip from her glass, before taking a much larger gulp, almost draining the contents. It tasted crisp and dry, and for the first time that evening, the weight of events lifted a fraction as the alcohol numbed the pain.
‘Someone’s taken Carol-Anne,’ she said, in one quick breath, hoping that admitting the truth would be less painful if spoken quickly, like removing a plaster.
Sophie’s mouth dropped, as deep crevices sank in her forehead. ‘I … what do you mean? Ray’s taken Carol-Anne?’
Alex took a deep breath. ‘I was parked in town; one minute she was strapped into my car, and the next …’
Sophie gasped, her eyes widening, the shock of the words hitting home. ‘Oh, sweetie, I don’t know what to say.’
Alex lowered her near empty glass to the table. Alcohol wasn’t the answer. She needed to keep her wits about her, and if the police needed to speak to her urgently, she didn’t want her breath smelling of wine.
Sophie took a nervous sip of her own drink. ‘I’m so sorry, Alex. What have the police said? I’m sure they’ll find her. Whatever you need in the meantime just say.’
This was precisely why Alex hadn’t wanted to inform her. Sophie was a sweet girl, and not the sort of person you’d rely on in a crisis. She was younger, and a free spirit, not someone who worried about a career, a family, the trappings of a regular life. They were polar opposites in terms of aspirations, and that was probably why they got on so well. That, and the fact that Alex had supported Sophie when a previous relationship had turned sour.
Sophie was perching awkwardly on the edge of the sofa, not knowing where to look or what to say. It would have been kinder to allow her to slip away, and although originally Alex had wanted to be left alone, the presence of someone – anyone – in her home would distract her from the silent reminder that Carol-Anne wasn’t home.
She didn’t expect to see Ray anytime soon. He would stay at the crime scene until he was forced to leave. Either that or he would be seeking solace in someone else’s company. Although she had no proof that he had been seeing someone behind her back, the distance between them was too vast to ignore.
‘What’s with the suit?’ Sophie suddenly asked, her attempt at small talk showing again how ill-equipped she was to deal with such an awful situation.
Alex stared down at the damp clothing, which she’d picked out especially for today’s interview. She’d woken with such high hopes this morning; it now felt like a lifetime away.
‘I should probably get changed,’ she admitted.
And that was Sophie’s trigger to spring into action. ‘You sit still, and I’ll grab your pyjamas and dressing gown.’
Alex didn’t argue, knowing Sophie would have done anything to escape the tension in the room. And as silence once again returned to the house, Alex found herself staring at the large print of Carol-Anne on the wall above the television. The photo shoot had been a present from Ray’s sister and husband. The photographer had done such a good job of capturing CarolAnne’s sweet, glowing innocence. And as Alex studied each line of her daughter’s face, she made a silent vow that she would get her back, whatever it took.
8
The area immediately surrounding Alex’s grey hatchback had now been covered with a tent to keep it out of sight of curious bystanders, but more importantly to protect the evidence it contained from being washed away by the elements. A large mobile generator whirred away in the background, powering the temporary brilliant white lights that had been erected and pointed at the scene as the technicians continued to examine and collect samples from the surrounding area.
The sky overhead was pitch-black, the moon hidden somewhere behind the thick blanket of clouds. At least the rain was holding off for now.
Ray finished the last of the cigarettes Owen had given him and scrunched up the packet, tempted to throw it into the gutter, but conscious that an eagle-eyed technician would probably take it back to the lab for later examination.
He was standing between the inner and outer cordoned areas. An area of ten cars either side of where the tent was stretched over the hatchback marked the width of the inner cordon – the area where the technicians’ focus was – while the depth stretched almost to the edge of the car park. The residential street where the car park’s entrance and exit stood had been taped off, with a uniformed officer standing guard at both ends, allowing access only to residents who could provide documentation showing they lived there. Several residents had been watching the scene unfold from the safety of their windows; free entertainment for the curious mind.
Ray hated waiting for news – he felt so useless since DI Trent had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want him anywhere near her investigation. It wasn’t personal discrimination – he understood the rules – but who better to have on the team than someone who knew the victim so well?
His phone vibrated, and he allowed himself the briefest smile when he saw who it was from, before the guilt took over. He deleted the message – as he always did – and this time didn’t reply. It was important to keep his mind focused on the job at hand.
‘What are you still doing here, Ray?’ Trent called out, ducking beneath the inner cordon and heading over to him. ‘I asked you to go home and wait for our call. I can’t have you anywhere near the crime scene. Please don’t make me have you escorted from here.’
He pulled the overcoat tighter around his midriff. ‘Please, ma’am, I don’t want to interfere or slow you down, I just want to stay close by to react when there’s a break. I swear you won’t even know I’m here.’
‘The rules are there for good reason, Ray, as well you know.’ She softened her tone. ‘I understand that you want to help, and if it wasn’t for your close involvement there’s nobody I’d rather have by my side, but it isn’t possible. I have assigned a Family Liaison Officer who’ll help keep you informed. Please just go home and await my call.’
‘I could be useful, ma’am. I’ll go out of my mind with worry if I go home. Let me chase down some leads. Anything? I don’t care how mundane it is, I’ll do it. What about searching for any possible dashcams that might have captured something? Please?’
She reached out and rubbed his arm. ‘You know I can’t. We have all available resources searching the properties near to your home, canvassing for witnesses, and searching for Carol-Anne.’ She sighed. ‘I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through and how you’re feeling, and you know we’re good at what we do. And because you’re so well-liked in the team, you know everyone will give a hundred per cent to get little Carol-Anne back to you and Alex.’
She steered him towards the outer cordon, and gave the uniformed officer there strict instructions not to allow him back within the area.
‘I’ll call as soon as we have something,’ she called after him, but he was no longer listening, stalking off to a nearby off-licence to buy more cigarettes and a small bottle of vodka.
If he had to go home and try not to think about his daughter’s peril, then he couldn’t do it sober. As he unscrewed the cap, though, and moved to put it against his lips, he had a fresh idea, and quickly resealed and pocketed the bottle.
Any detective worth his salt knows who the key figures in the city are: the people who exercise control over large-scale criminal enterprises. One such figure in Southampton was Gianni Demetrios, the product of a Greek father and Italian mother, raised in the UK but with strong family connections in his parents’ countries of birth. A self-professed crime lord, he made it his business to know everybody else’s; no major activities occurred in Southampton without his prior approval.
Like most men in his position, Demetrios liked to create the impression that he was just an honest businessman trying to scrape together a living. And among his less-than-savoury businesses, he did indeed run several above-the-counter companies, paying his taxes and providing pension benefits to his employees. The rumours about Demetrios’s wider interests were well known to every detective in Hampshire Constabulary. The trouble with rumours is they’re worth nothing in court. Which is why Demetrios continued to run his operation from the comfort of the outside world, rather than behind bars.
Most evenings Demetrios could be found sitting behind three feet of mahogany, watching as the hard-working residents of Southampton gambled their wages in his casino. If anyone could provide alternative insight into what might have happened to Carol-Anne, it was Demetrios; which is why Ray was now sitting behind the wheel of his car staring up at the brightly fronted building that welcomed gamblers of all varieties to bet against the house.
Two large bouncers with shaved heads – one black with thick arms, and the other EasternEuropean-looking – were checking memberships at the main door as Ray approached.
‘It’s a members-only club, pal,’ the larger of the men said, sticking out an arm to block Ray’s approach to the door.
Ray eyed him cautiously. With a good six inches height advantage, it didn’t look like he’d have too much trouble flattening Ray.
‘I’m here to see your boss,’ Ray said, as he pulled out his police identification and held it aloft for both to see.
‘You got a warrant?’ the bouncer fired back, not even bothering to look at the credentials.
‘It’s not official business,’ Ray countered, puffing out his chest as much as he could and pushing himself up on his toes to reduce the height difference. ‘I don’t want any trouble. Can you just ask Mr Demetrios whether he will see me? It won’t take long.’
The black guard nodded for his colleague to make the call, and peeling away, the call was placed, leaving Ray and the larger man where they were.
He eventually returned and led Ray in through the doors, past the cloakroom and past the well-dressed members squealing in equal measures of despair and excitement as they won and lost their bets.
The lift carriage deposited them on the top floor of the building, where Ray was led through two solid oak doors with gilded door handles.
‘Mr Demetrios said you should wait here and he will be along shortly,’ the bouncer said, indicating the large leather sofa against the far wall. ‘I’ll be just outside in case there’s any trouble.’
A moment later, two other doors opened and in walked the olive-skinned, dark-haired businessman, resembling a young Al Pacino in The Godfather.
‘It’s Detective Sergeant Granger, isn’t it?’ Demetrios asked, extending a wary hand as he joined Ray by the sofa.
Ray looked at the hand, before reluctantly shaking it. Ray wasn’t the sort to go cap in hand to anyone, let alone an individual with Demetrios’s shady background, but formalities had to be observed in such quarters. ‘Thank you for seeing me.’
‘I’m always happy to make time for the upstanding law enforcers of our fair city,’ Demetrios purred, his coal-coloured curls slicked back. ‘What is it I can do for you?’
Ray was taking a huge risk being anywhere near Demetrios’s casino; desperate times called for desperate measures. He would worry about the fallout once Carol-Anne was back home and safe.
‘I need information,’ Ray began carefully, conscious that Demetrios was the sort of snake who would probably be recording every word of their exchange. ‘You know people, and I need to know the name of the person or persons who have abducted my daughter.’ The words cut his heart to ribbons; it was all he could do to keep himself upright as his knees buckled under the weight of expectation.
It was hard to tell if the look of confusion on Demetrios’s face was as a result of Ray’s appearance or the words he’d spoken. ‘I’m sorry about your loss, but I’m afraid I really have no idea—’
‘Cut the crap!’ Ray barked before he could stop himself. ‘Nobody would sanction something like this around here without your say-so. Was it someone I locked up? Someone looking for revenge? Going after me is one thing, but to snatch my daughter, it’s … give me a name!’
Demetrios took off quickly, moving back through the doors he’d emerged from, ushering Ray to follow him. Lifting a framed photograph from the corner of the desk, he showed it to Ray. ‘This is my daughter Gabriella. She’s ten now, and lives with her mother and grandparents in Sicily. I miss her every day. I swear on her life, I have no idea who would make a move against you. I would never be involved in something so cruel.’
Ray examined his face, looking for any twitch or hint of deceit. Finding none, his heart sank. ‘Then can you find out who would do it? She’s only two and I’m terrified that …’ He couldn’t finish the sentence, as he struggled to keep his composure. ‘I will do anything to get her back. Any amount of money, I’ll pay it. I just want my daughter back.’
And in that moment, their conflicting backgrounds were forgotten about as they shared the pain and joy of paternity.
‘Leave it with me, detective. I will see what I can find out. And then maybe one day in the future, you can return the favour.’ There was a momentary glint in his eyes as he spoke, but it was gone seconds later. He pressed a buzzer somewhere beneath his desk, and the bouncer returned and led Ray away by the arm.
