Crossing the Line (Kerry Wilkinson) (25 page)

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Rebecca Hambleton sat at the kitchen table in her house, still shaking. A support officer was at her

side, trusty cups of tea at the ready. Even with all of their training, there was still little that ranked above being able to make a good cuppa. Rebecca’s long dark hair was covered with a small bandage

courtesy of the paramedics but Jessica could still see strands stuck together. Despite the head wound,

she had refused to leave the house and go to hospital, even though the paramedics said she was

concussed. DCI Cole was with Niall in the living room, talking to his son, Brendan.

Jessica tried to take things slowly with Niall’s daughter-in-law, aware of her injuries, but it was

Rebecca who kept pushing things, wanting them to take her seriously and ‘get out there and look for

them’. Jessica tried to explain that the best thing Rebecca could do was tell them as calmly as

possible what had happened.

‘I need you to go back to the start of the day,’ Jessica said. ‘What time did you get up?’

‘How’s that going to get my kids back?’

‘Please can you trust me? The more information you can give us, the better it will be. Sometimes

the things you think might be innocuous end up being important.’

Rebecca breathed noisily through her nose and then replied: ‘The alarm went off at five to seven,

the same as always.’

‘What then?’

‘Brendan went to have a shower and get ready for work. He does it every day.’

Jessica already knew that Niall’s son worked in a bank in Manchester city centre. Rebecca was a

housewife and they shared a large-ish semi-detached in a nice area of the city. They clearly weren’t

struggling financially but there was little extravagance. Brendan was a mid-level manager but had no

access to money outside of the branch. If you were kidnapping children because you wanted a ransom,

there would have been so many more viable targets.

Niall hadn’t mentioned it again but Jessica couldn’t help remembering the way he’d said it in the

car: ‘
Slasher
’.

‘What’s the rest of your morning routine?’ she asked.

‘We eat breakfast together at around half past seven and then Brendan goes to work. I take the kids

to school at around ten past eight. They usually watch a bit of television.’

‘Do they go to the same school?’

‘Yes. Poppy’s seven and Zac’s five – they’re at the same primary.’

They already had the details – a cosy little building attached to a church hall a couple of miles

away. Solid results, a respected headteacher, nothing unusual. Officers had gone to talk to the teachers who hadn’t already gone home for the day.

‘Was there anything unusual about your journey?’

Rebecca shook her head. The tears and shattered expression weren’t enough to hide how pretty she

was. ‘There are those roadworks over by the roundabout but they’ve been there for weeks. You get

stuck in the traffic lights but I started leaving a couple of minutes earlier.’

‘What about when you get to the school? Do you hang around for a chat with the other mums? Come

straight home?’

‘Zac and Poppy usually go off to run around with their friends in the playground if it’s dry but it’s

been so cold. Today they went straight into the school. I was talking to one of my friends close to the

gates, another mum, but it was freezing. We might have gone for a coffee on another day but I had a

class today.’

She nodded towards the corner where there was a gym bag propped up against the wall, a yoga mat

rolled up behind it. A calendar was stuck to the fridge by a magnet, exercise class times written on for Monday to Friday. If it had been in front of Jessica, she wouldn’t have been able to read it without her glasses; across the room it was clear. Rebecca obviously looked after herself.

‘What class was it?’

‘Rumba. I did that and then half an hour on the bike, before driving home.’

‘What time did you get back?’

‘Quarter past eleven? I’m not really sure. I left the gym at eleven.’

‘What did you do then?’

‘Just things around the house: cleaning up, washing clothes, watched a bit of television, paid a few

bills online. Normal things.’

‘But you didn’t leave the house?’

‘No.’

‘Did anyone visit?’

‘No . . . Oh, I suppose the postman. There was a bill or two – they’re still on the side.’

‘He didn’t knock though?’

‘No.’ The support officer handed Rebecca a tissue as she began to sob quietly again. ‘Can you

please just get out there and look for them?’

‘We do have officers doing their best. We’ve almost finished here. Everything you’ve said has been

really helpful.’

‘But I’ve not said anything.’

‘You have – we know what times the house was empty. We know you stuck to a routine – if anyone

had been watching you over a period of time, they might have noted that. It’s all important, which is

why we need to know these things. What time did you go to pick your children up?’

Now she understood, Rebecca stopped hesitating and ploughed on. ‘Three fifteen. They finish at

half past and I was there a couple of minutes before. I had a quick chat to a couple of the other mums

again but it was cold, so as soon as the kids came out, we set off.’

‘Do you remember anyone suspicious there? Anything unusual?’

‘Nothing, I wasn’t really paying attention.’

‘What about the journey home?’

‘Same as usual, perhaps a bit less traffic.’

‘What happened when you got home?’

‘I parked on the drive – then I came in here. The kids had gone to put their things away upstairs in

their bedrooms and then they were watching TV in the living room.’

‘What were you doing in here?’

‘Making their tea. On Wednesdays, I always let them choose what they want as long as they can

agree. It was Brendan’s idea – teaching them young that if they can negotiate with each other and

come to an agreement, then they can get what they want. They usually squabble a little bit but I was

doing them sausage, beans and chips. Not exactly gourmet, I know . . .’

‘It was one of my favourites when I was a kid.’

‘I’d barely even started. I’d got the beans open and then the doorbell went. Sometimes you get

parcels late in the afternoon around here, so I thought it was either that or one of those charity

collector types. I should have put the chain on, or looked through the fisheye, but you don’t even think, do you? It’s second nature – the doorbell rings, so you open it.’

Rebecca stopped herself, crossing to the sink and running the water into a glass, sipping it at first

and then taking a large gulp. She looked a little better afterwards, her eyes slightly more focused. She leant on the sink, peering across to Jessica. ‘Anyway, when I opened the door I wasn’t really looking

because Zac had cried out from the other room. I had one hand on the door handle and was facing

away as I opened it. There was this sort of grunt and I turned back to see this shape there – a man,

something dark, I’m not sure. I just remember something coming towards me, like a bat or a paddle,

something flat. It was only a fraction of a second and then—’

‘You called us at exactly eighteen minutes past four. Do you remember what time the doorbell

went?’

‘No, I wasn’t paying attention.’

‘But a little under a fifteen-minute journey from the school to here, so you would have been in by

quarter to four, ten to at the latest. The kids had put their things down and you’d sorted out what they wanted for tea, so what time do you think you might have started thinking about cooking? Four

o’clock? Five past?

‘It was definitely after four. Five past at the latest.’

‘So you were likely unconscious for around ten minutes – fifteen at the absolute most. That gives us

a window where whoever attacked you escaped. Do you see why that’s helpful?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay, so tell me what happened when you woke up.’

‘I remember feeling cold. My hands were chilly and something was tickling my nose. I thought I

was dreaming for a few seconds and then I realised I was lying in the hallway and the door was open.

It was just the breeze that was making me cold. I had a headache from where I’d been hit. I was

running through the house calling for Zac and Poppy, panicking, crying. As soon as I knew they were

gone, I called you – then I called Brendan. I think Brendan called his dad and then there were police

everywhere . . .’

‘I know this is going to sound like an obvious question but can you think of anyone who could

possibly be involved? Someone you might have fallen out with . . . ?’

Rebecca’s voice cracked completely, tears running down her face onto the floor. ‘I’ve been trying

to think but we’re not like that. We say hello to the neighbours, I’ve got the gym, Brendan goes circuit training at the rugby club, then we visit Brendan’s dad once a week or so. Other than that, we keep

ourselves to ourselves.’

The story was terrifying because it was so simple. It was the type of thing they would say was

every parent’s worst nightmare but it went beyond that because there was no sophistication. If

someone could come to your house and walk away with your kids in broad daylight then what

couldn’t they do?

‘What about the message?’ Jessica asked, half-turning towards the front of the house.

Rebecca shrugged. ‘I have no idea what it means.’

Jessica thanked Rebecca for her time and left her with the support officer, before heading into the

hallway. There was a patch of blood dried into the light brown carpet but no other signs of a struggle.

Whoever attacked her had stolen her car but the single spray-painted word on the wall was altogether

more worrying.

Jessica popped her head around the door into the living room and gave Cole the nod to say she was

ready. He joined her outside on the front step. It was staying lighter this evening but only because the cloud was so high, making it significantly colder than it had been during the day.

‘What was she like?’ Cole asked.

‘More or less as you’d expect, slightly calmer. Everything she told me is the same as from the

emergency call plus the first quick statement. What about Brendan?’

‘He’s all over the place – got home from work to find his kids gone, wife covered in blood with

the paramedics and police here.’

‘Niall?’

‘Not said a word – he just sat and listened. He’s taking it badly.’

‘Did Brendan have any potential suspects?’

‘No, he said they don’t have a large field of friends.’

‘Exactly like her. She didn’t have a description of the attacker either. What about the message in the

hallway?’

‘Brendan says he doesn’t know anything.’

‘Rebecca says the same. Have you told them the rest?’

‘Not yet, I had to nip out to take the call. ANPR picked up their car but we lost it heading away

from the city. We sent patrol cars out that way and they found it dumped in a field on fire.’

‘I suppose we at least know this was planned – someone would have had a separate car there

waiting. She says she kept to a similar routine most days, so it’s either someone who knows her or

someone who’s been watching. Izzy texted me from the station to say that she found their full address

in under a minute on the Internet – they’re on the electoral roll and in the phone book. Uniform say one of the neighbours across the road saw the front door open but thought it was just the kids playing. No

one seemed to notice the car pulling away, let alone see who was driving. Do we have any shots of

the driver on camera?’

‘Not that we’ve had verified but we might. I’m waiting on the call.’

‘I’m going back to the station if you don’t mind – Izzy’s staying late, so we can plough through

things before the morning.’

Cole nodded. ‘I’m going to remain here for a while. We’ll talk later.’

Jessica turned to head to her car but Cole called her back. His voice was even lower this time. ‘I

had the thought coming over and I can’t be the only one. The Slasher died just under two weeks ago.

Brendan and Rebecca share Niall’s last name – anyone could have found that out . . .’

Jessica wondered if she should tell him about Niall’s single hushed word in the car but figured he

didn’t need to know, at least not yet. At some point, she needed to talk to the former DSI himself.

Before she left, Jessica glanced back through the open door of the house. The single word had been

sprayed in green capital letters on the hallway wall, clear and simple against the light purple

wallpaper.

‘CONFESS’.

Back at the station and Izzy wasn’t the only one still hanging around. At least a quarter of the day shift were overlapping with the evening crew, frantically doing everything they could to find out what had

happened to Poppy and Zac Hambleton. It would have been busy anyway but Jessica couldn’t help but

think some of the attention was due to the fact that Niall was one of them.

Izzy and DS Cornish had already compiled an incredible amount of information in the almost three

hours since the children had gone missing. Brendan was never really under suspicion but his alibi had

been cleared with people at the bank and they had his car on camera making the rapid journey home.

Reports from the neighbours had been compiled, although aside from the homeowner who lived

opposite, they didn’t have anything. Two of the fellow parents from the school had been spoken to,

confirming the time that Rebecca left.

The other concern was that it could have something to do with their three other random attacks but