‘But why this case?’ Sheldon said, leaning across to jab the file with his finger. ‘It was an easy hit, an admitted shoplifting. Why would you want a tick in the wrong column for a case like that?’
‘I don’t know what you mean?’ Her fingers trembled.
‘Okay, try this,’ he said, his words coming out quickly. ‘Lucy’s shoplifting case was just a few weeks before Ted Kenyon was caught in a car with a young woman. You might remember that, it was all over the papers, and guess what; that was Lucy Crane as well. She made a bit of money is my guess, but I can’t help wondering whether there was something more to this, because Ted Kenyon being caught with Lucy took the public sympathy away from him. Once the stories became about him, they stopped being about how we couldn’t find his daughter’s killer.’
Dixon’s tongue kept flicking onto her lips. ‘Come on, Sheldon, spit it out.’
‘That’s the thing, ma’am. You’re not throwing me out. You are sitting there, listening, wanting to find out what I know, which means that the reason behind this is something you would rather I didn’t find out. And now I’m really curious.’
‘Don’t think you can mess with me, Sheldon.’
Sheldon laughed, but it was filled with bitterness. ‘I’m sorry, ma’am, it must be a sign of my sickness. If you remember, you put me on sick leave that I hadn’t requested, for the sake of my mental health. So what I will do is leave you alone, but trust me when I say that I will keep on looking for the reason. You noted yourself that I have a tendency towards, shall we say, obsessive behaviour.’
He stood up as if to leave. Just before he turned away, he noticed that some photographs had been taken from the wall, as all there was left was a picture hook.
Sheldon took one last look at her. She was staring at her desk, and she looked frightened.
Once the door had closed, Sheldon paused for a moment. He looked at his hands. They were shaking. He had done the right thing though, he was sure of that. He marched off down the corridor, and when he got outside the station, he ran to his car. It was time to find out more about John Abbott.
Jake sat down on the chair opposite Ted, facing each other over the dining room table. From the pictures Charlie had seen of Alice, he could see the family resemblance, although there was a sadness to him that he had never seen in photographs of Alice.
Jake sat hunched up with his knees turned inwards, his shoulders bony through his black T-shirt.
‘So what do you know?’ Charlie said.
Jake shrugged, and then said, ‘They used to talk to us when we were hanging out in town. They were into being free, so they said. I don’t know why they spoke to us. Maybe it was because of how we were dressed, as if they thought we wanted to join some kind of Goth gang. They were friendly at first, but the second time they found us, they started to talk about leaving society and having no rules, and how we had to be there on the big day.’
‘Big day?’ Charlie said.
‘The uprising, that’s what they called it.’ Jake shook his head. ‘It was rubbish, all of it.’
Charlie knew it was the same group he had seen outside his office. He thought of Christina, how she had been placed into Billy’s home and felt angry about Donia, about how she had set him up. It was obvious now that she was a plant, put into his firm just so they could find out what Billy had told Amelia. Was that why they had been outside the office, waiting for Donia to take whatever they needed to them?
‘Did they go round all the young people in the town?’ Charlie said.
‘I don’t know, because I don’t hang out with other kids. Anyway, it wasn’t really
us
they were speaking to.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘It was the girls, not the rest of us. They were just trying it on. They realised soon enough that we weren’t interested and so left us alone. We get enough shit from the local kids, all the hoodies picking on us, without the political freaks joining in.’
As Charlie thought back on how the group had watched him, Jake said, ‘A couple of them were pretty scary. Like Billy said on the video, one was a huge guy. Solid, over six feet, with a beard that was kind of twisted, with beads in it. And the smaller guy, Henry, he had long hair, and with a really intense look to him. All the girls were in awe of him, I could tell.’
‘When was this?’ Charlie said.
‘Not long before Alice died.’
Ted’s mouth opened in shock. ‘So you’ve always suspected them?’ Jake responded with another shrug. ‘How did you know?’
Jake ground his teeth and looked down.
Charlie moved closer to him. ‘Jake?’
He looked away.
Charlie banged his hand on the table. Jake jumped and stared, scared now.
‘Jake, if you know something, say it.’ Charlie was breathing heavily, his temper rising. ‘The time for silence is gone.’
‘Jake?’ Ted said, confused.
When Jake looked up again, there were tears in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘For what?’ Ted said.
‘For not saying anything.’
‘Tell me now.’
Jake took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes. ‘One of Alice’s friends had become involved with them. Alice had gone away to university, but do you remember Marie, her friend from school? She failed her exams and she drifted, but Alice would hook up with her when she came home, except that Marie was hanging around with this group. Marie was with them when they were speaking to my mates and me. She was talking about going wild at Billy’s house, and that we should go up too, that we’d enjoy it.’
‘And so you thought that this group might have had something to do with Alice’s death?’ Ted said, his voice rising.
Jake looked at his hands for a few seconds, and then said, ‘Maybe.’
‘And you didn’t say anything?’
Jake shook his head.
‘Why not?’
Jake swallowed. He looked at his father, and then at Charlie, before he sighed and said, ‘We don’t know everything about Alice. She was all grown up, not a little girl anymore. She will have had secrets from us. It’s natural. When I was talking to Marie, she told me they were having a great time. She was smoking a spliff, and the nods and the winks hinted that it was like a group thing, you know, orgies. What does everyone think about Alice? That she was sweet and lovely and respectable – and she was, but if she had got involved with them, got out of her depth or something, well, it would all change, and I didn’t want that, because then she would be the girl who died in some drug-fuelled party. No, I preferred it how it was reported, that she was innocent, that she wasn’t part of their crowd. So I kept quiet.’
Ted took some deep breaths, and Charlie could see some anger in his eyes, that his own son knew some of the answers but had kept them from him. But Ted’s furrowed brow showed he was wrestling with his feelings, because he understood why Jake had kept quiet, because he had tried to protect Alice’s memory.
‘Who’s the girl?’ Ted said. ‘Marie?’
‘Marie Cuffy,’ Jake said. ‘She was a friend of Alice’s from the sixth form, but Marie had changed. I suppose Alice had, but all of Alice’s other friends had gone away too, and so Marie was someone to hang round with when she was home.’
‘Find me a picture.’
Jake left the room, and Charlie listened as he rummaged in what he guessed was Alice’s room. When Jake came downstairs again, he was holding a photograph. ‘That’s her,’ he said, pointing to a picture.
As Charlie looked, he saw an attractive young woman, her eyes flirty, smiling with Alice, each holding beer bottles in their hand.
‘When was the last time you saw her?’ Charlie said.
‘I haven’t seen her since Alice died.’
‘We need to find her,’ Ted said, tapping the photograph. ‘She knows something about Alice. Jake, do you know where she lives?’
Jake nodded and gave an address. ‘That’s where her parents live.’
Charlie’s thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of his phone in his pocket. He checked the number. It was Donia’s.
‘Hello?’ Charlie said, expecting to hear her voice, ready for the next stage of deceit.
‘Mr Barker,’ said a deep voice. Charlie recognised it from the hallway of Donia’s flat.
Charlie swallowed. His mouth had gone dry. ‘What do you want?’
‘You know what we want.’
‘Tell me.’
‘The videotape of Billy Privett. We’ve got the discs, but we want the original tape.’
He felt the hot flush of anger creep up his cheek, mixed in with helplessness about how it was all out of control. ‘You killed Amelia. Why should I do anything for you?’
‘Because we’ve got something you want.’
‘You’ve got nothing I want.’
‘Haven’t we?’ the voice said, and then he laughed, loud and mocking. ‘What about poor little Donia here?’
‘The work experience girl you put into my firm. Very clever, but I’m not falling for that.’
‘If you knew the truth about Donia, you would help. The tape. Bring it, and it must be you. Call me when you’ve got it. I’ll give you an hour. Then we start to kill her, slowly.’
His phone went dead, and he looked at it in disbelief. And what did he mean about Donia? The truth?
Charlie remembered that he had grabbed Donia’s CV before he left the office. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crumpled piece of paper. It looked routine, headed with her name, Donia Graham. He doubted its truth, but there was a phone number.
He dialled the number and waited as it rang out. When the phone was answered, a timid voice said, ‘Hello?’
Charlie put the phone against his chest for a moment, just to think about what to say, and then, ‘Mrs Graham?’
‘Miss,’ she said. ‘Miss Graham.’ Her flat Yorkshire vowels were given some lift by the lilt of the Caribbean.
He took a deep breath. ‘Is it Donia’s mother?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Charlie Barker,’ he said. He expected Donia’s plan to unravel now, because he doubted she was the real Donia.
Instead, he heard just a gasp. He waited for her to say something, anything that would kick-start the conversation, but she said nothing.
‘Miss Graham?’
‘It’s Wilma, you know that,’ she said, her voice stronger now. Then she sighed. ‘I’m sorry to hear about your business partner.’
‘She told you?’
‘Yes, she was quite shaken by it.’ There was a pause, and then, ‘Has she told you?’
Charlie was confused. ‘I’m sorry, told me what?’
‘About her. And me.’
‘I don’t understand.’
Another pause. ‘You don’t remember me?’
Charlie was getting exasperated now. ‘I’m not calling about you. It’s about Donia.’ And then he realised what she had said. ‘What do you mean, why don’t I remember
you
?’
‘Hasn’t Donia said anything to you?’
Charlie closed his eyes. She sounded genuine, and so the possibilities started to race through his head. The scene at the flat, the members of the group there, and now the phone call, the demand for the videotape and the threat to kill Donia. He had it wrong, and she wasn’t a plant. She was just a young law student getting some experience, which meant that the threat was real. He felt nauseous.
‘Do you know anything about an anarchist group near Oulton?’ Charlie said.
‘No. Why should I?’ Her voice started to crack. ‘Why, what’s happened?’
Charlie wanted to put off the moment, knowing what he was about to say would wreck her, but he knew that he couldn’t.
‘The same people who killed my business partner have got Donia,’ he said quietly.
Wilma let out a whimper. ‘
Got?
What do you mean?’
‘Just that,’ he said. ‘They called me and told me they have her.’
‘And they’re going to hurt her?’
He paused again, wished that he could end the call and not say it, but he knew that he couldn’t. ‘Yes, that’s what they told me.’
Wilma’s voice turned into a scream. He moved the phone away from his ear and put his head in his hand. He let her shout, and she was shouting at him, saying that he was supposed to look after her.
‘Call the police, Wilma, please.’
‘I told her to stay away from you, Charlie Barker! I tried to tell her not to, that it wouldn’t end well, but she wouldn’t listen, and now she’s in danger.’
Charlie thought about telling her that it wasn’t his fault, but it wasn’t the right time to talk about blame.
He tried to speak calmly. ‘The person who spoke to me said that there was something about Donia that would make me help them. What did they mean?’
Wilma went quiet for a few seconds, and then she said something that sent everything into background noise, blurred, out of focus, the words burning into him like a slap.
‘Charlie,’ she said. ‘Donia is your daughter.’
John was outside the old man’s room. There were screams and sobs from upstairs, the sounds of Henry with Dawn, and people digging outside. Arni was on the telephone, and he heard what he said about the girl they had brought back with them, that her name was Donia.
He pushed at the door so that it swung open gently. The old man didn’t look up, but the girl did.
Donia was fastened to a metal strut on the bedstead, a chain wrapped around her wrist and made tight with a padlock. As John went over to her, she shrank back, her feet pushing against the floor, as if that would somehow help.
‘What are you going to do to me?’ she said, the words coming out as a wail.
‘I don’t think anyone knows yet,’ he said.
Her breaths came in gulps. She tried to speak in a whisper. ‘Why don’t you let me go? I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I just want to go home.’
‘Henry has brought you here for a reason. I can’t stop that.’
The old man moaned, but John ignored it. He had learned to do that.
John knelt down to her level. ‘Just be patient, Donia. It will be all right.’
‘I haven’t done anything wrong to you,’ she said. ‘You can’t let them keep me. I’m scared. Let me go.’
John shook his head. ‘I can’t do that. I have to wait for Henry.’
There were footsteps behind him, and when he looked round, it was Gemma and Lucy.