Authors: Michelle Davies
She closed her eyes and tried to picture her daughter the last time she saw her at the breakfast table.
‘She might have been wearing blue nail varnish on her toenails. She knows she’s not allowed to wear it on her fingernails. It’s a very bright shade, like kingfisher blue.
It’s her favourite colour. Why are you . . . ?’ She tailed off, too terrified to finish her own sentence.
‘Someone we believe could be the crayon writer called the incident room five minutes ago. He specifically mentioned the fact Rosie was wearing blue varnish on her toenails when she went
missing.’
Lesley swayed violently on the spot, just as Maggie bowled through the front door. She saw what was going on and raced over to Lesley, who clawed at her like a drowning woman trying to reach
shore.
‘No, no, no . . .’ she moaned.
The room spun around her. Maggie gripped her tighter as Belmar gave a quick rundown of what had happened.
‘We should move you to a safe house,’ Umpire’s disembodied voice announced. He spoke with an urgency that accelerated Lesley’s own panic.
‘Why?’ croaked Mack, by now ashen.
‘The caller made a specific threat against Rosie. He’s asking for money and is obsessed with the idea that Mrs Kinnock somehow stole from him. I want to move you for your
safety.’
‘You think he might come after us here?’ asked Lesley.
‘I’m not prepared to risk finding out. I’m going to arrange for you to stay at one of our safe houses; we have a number in and around the area we can use. I know you
don’t want to be too far from home in case there’s any news about Rosie, but hopefully it won’t be for long. DC Neville and DC Small will go with you.’
‘No,’ said Mack. ‘We’re not going anywhere.’
‘Mr Kinnock—’ Umpire began.
‘No, you listen to me. We live in a gated road, the house is completely secure now and if you do the job you’re meant to, the bastard won’t be able to get us. I am not running
away.’
‘He’s right,’ said Lesley. ‘What if Rosie comes home and finds the place empty? What will she think?’
‘We’d have officers stationed here all the time,’ said Umpire. ‘They would bring her to where you are.’
Lesley looked at Mack. His mouth was set in a firm line.
‘They can’t make us go, love.’
For the first time since she’d read the texts from Suzy Breed, Lesley felt a rush of love for her husband. Nothing would bend him, not even this.
Umpire decided the Kinnocks should hear the recording themselves, in case they recognized the crayon writer’s voice. He told Belmar he’d be at the house in fifteen minutes then hung
up.
Maggie asked Mack and Lesley to excuse them and motioned for Belmar to step outside onto the driveway so they could talk privately.
‘When did Lesley get back?’ she asked.
‘About five minutes before you did.’
‘Did she say where she went?’
‘She didn’t have the chance. After I rang you to say she was on her way back, I was straight on the phone to Umpire and then he wanted to speak to her about the nail
varnish.’
The previous evening Maggie had called Belmar at home to brief him about the diary Rosie had typed out on her old laptop and about GS.
‘I just bumped into Kathryn and Lily. I asked them if they knew who GS was and both said they’d never heard Rosie refer to anyone like that, but I’m convinced they
weren’t telling the truth. I’m pretty sure Lily would’ve admitted it if Kathryn hadn’t been there to interrupt her every word. They still seem convinced the blood found in
the garden was caused by her self-harming though.’
‘What did Ballboy say about the laptop?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘He wasn’t around yesterday so I had to brief Steve Berry. You know what it’s like – once we pass the info on, it can be ages
before we find out what’s going on.’
‘Always the last to know,’ said Belmar resignedly.
The DCI looked uncomfortable perched on the sofa next to Mack and Lesley. The seat was quite low down and his long legs were bent at an awkward angle. He was exasperated by Mack’s refusal
to leave Angel’s Reach.
‘We’re certain the person who called the incident room is the crayon writer because he’s made another specific reference to Rosie and talked about sending you letters after
your EuroMillions win. He seems particularly angry at you, Lesley, presumably because you bought the winning ticket.’
‘We’re safe here,’ said Mack firmly. ‘So unless you have some kind of court order to move us, forget it. This is our home and we’re staying put.’
‘Fine,’ Umpire snapped. ‘But you’re staying against my wishes.’
‘Duly noted,’ Mack replied sarcastically. ‘Now, can we listen to the call or not?’
Umpire had the recording downloaded on his phone. Maggie saw Lesley shudder as the room was filled with two voices, one of the caller and the other of the police officer who spoke to him. Mack
wrapped his arm round her shoulders as the crayon writer finished by issuing his threat to return Rosie home to them in pieces.
‘Why the fuck is he tormenting us?’ said Mack as Umpire shut the recording off. ‘Look, just give him what he wants. Tell him he can have the money.’
‘I know that seems like the easiest solution but what we have to bear in mind is that giving him the money is no guarantee of Rosie’s safe return,’ said Umpire, shifting
awkwardly in his seat again. ‘He hasn’t issued any instructions about being paid, either, so I think he hasn’t properly thought it out. It sounds like the call was a knee-jerk
response because he’s panicking.’
Mack was furious. ‘For fuck’s sake. So we just wait until he panics a bit more then starts chopping our daughter up?’
‘Don’t,’ wailed Lesley, ‘don’t say that.’
‘No, Mr Kinnock, we find him first,’ said Umpire emphatically. ‘Now, is there anything about his voice that rings a bell? Anything at all?’
‘What’s the point? It sounded like he was trying to disguise it,’ said Mack. He flopped back down on the sofa like a sullen teenager.
‘Not at the very end he’s not. Listen again.’ Umpire replayed the recording. ‘See? Whatever was covering his mouth must’ve slipped. Does he sound
familiar?’
Lesley and Mack both shook their heads.
‘I’m having the tape analysed for background noise, to see if there are any clues as to where the call was made. Once we’ve done that, I might consider releasing part of the
tape to the press in the hope a member of the public recognizes his voice.’
‘Can’t you just trace the number?’ said Lesley.
‘It was a pay-as-you-go phone with an unregistered SIM card. It’s impossible to trace.’
‘It doesn’t feel like we’re getting anywhere,’ she fretted. ‘Just give him the money so we can get our little girl back.’ She turned to Mack, who had tears in
his eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. I wish I’d never bought that bloody ticket.’
Maggie had a sudden blinding flash of inspiration.
‘Actually, do you remember when you bought it?’ she asked excitedly.
‘It was a year ago,’ said Lesley.
‘I know that, but is there anything you can remember about actually buying the ticket?’
‘Only that I was in a rush. It was a Friday morning and I was late for work. But I needed petrol so I stopped at the first petrol station on my route, the Texaco garage on Middle Lane. I
filled up, and then I went inside to pay. Like I told you yesterday, I wasn’t planning to buy a EuroMillions ticket but I saw a couple of other people holding the slips you have to fill in so
I changed my mind at the last minute.’
‘There was a queue in the garage?’ said Umpire.
Maggie beamed at him. He’d worked out where she was going with her questions.
‘I guess there must have been four or five people ahead of me. I remember thinking it was going to make me even later, but one man let me go ahead of him.’
‘Do you remember anything about him?’ said Belmar, who’d also cottoned on.
Lesley shook her head. ‘I wasn’t paying attention.’
Maggie could barely contain herself. ‘Sir, do you think we should check the CCTV footage from that day?’
The tiredness had vanished from Umpire’s face.
‘Yes, we should. Well done, DC Neville.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Lesley helplessly. ‘Why do you need to see me buying the ticket?’
‘The crayon writer seems to think you stole the money from under his nose,’ said Umpire. ‘What DC Neville is suggesting is that he might have actually
been
there when
you bought it. We need the CCTV from that moment to see who else was in the queue with you.’
Lesley gasped. ‘Oh my God. You mean . . .’
Mack jumped up. He, too, looked more invigorated than he’d done in days.
‘Hang on, there’s no need to get the CCTV. The
Mansell Echo
already published a picture of Lesley in the queue. The garage gave it to them.’
He whipped out his BlackBerry Passport and called up a story on the newspaper’s website headlined,
LUCKY MUM’S £15-MILLION MOMENT!
Accompanying the report was a grainy
image of Lesley waiting to pay inside the garage. The image was taken from above and Lesley was partially side on to the camera, as was everyone else in the queue, including three men behind her.
Maggie shivered. Was one of them the crayon writer?
‘Fantastic,’ said Umpire, giving the phone back to Mack. ‘We can start trying to trace everyone who was in the garage that day.’
‘Let me have a look at that,’ said Lesley, taking the handset from her husband. She lifted it up to her face so the screen was almost touching her nose. She peered at the screen
closely for a few moments then lowered the BlackBerry into her lap. Then she raised the handset to study the screen again, her face flushed.
‘What is it?’ asked Maggie.
‘This man, the one standing right behind me in the tracksuit bottoms, I’m sure I’ve seen him before.’
Maggie held her breath and she imagined Umpire, Belmar and Mack were doing the same. Then, to her dismay, Lesley burst into tears.
‘I know I’ve seen him, I just can’t remember where.’
Mack demanded that he and Lesley be left alone for a while. Despite the potential breakthrough with the CCTV image, he was still shell-shocked after listening to the incident
room recording, as was his wife.
Maggie and Belmar trailed Umpire into the entrance hall. To her astonishment, once the lounge door was shut to cut them off from the Kinnocks, he turned round and gave her arm a quick
squeeze.
‘That was inspired, Maggie, well done.’
She was lost for words. Then Belmar caught her eye and winked, embarrassing her even more. She glared back at him. The rumours that she and the DCI had had an affair would never peter out if
Belmar spread it around that Umpire was being affectionate towards her.
‘If Lesley can remember where she’s seen the man behind her in the queue, even better,’ Umpire added, seemingly oblivious to the looks Maggie and Belmar were shooting each
other.
‘I just hope it’s not her mind playing tricks on her,’ said Maggie, recovering her composure. ‘She could be convincing herself there’s something familiar about him
because she’s desperate to do something constructive.’
‘Even if that proves to be the case, tracking down those customers might still give us a breakthrough. If none of them are the crayon writer it could be someone they know, a partner or a
brother, who’s angry on their behalf that they missed out.’
‘What would be amazing was if one of them has the initials GS and turns out to be the person Rosie wrote about on her laptop.’
‘GS?’ Umpire looked puzzled. Maggie got a horrible sinking feeling.
‘Didn’t DC Berry pass on my message last night?’
‘He said you’d found some kind of diary in which Rosie mentioned being bullied and that the laptop had gone to HTCU but he didn’t give me specifics,’ said Umpire
tightly.
‘You’re kidding me?’ she shot back furiously. ‘Steve didn’t fully brief you last night? But I made it clear to him that it could be really important. What if GS is
the crayon writer and we’ve just been sitting on the lead for a whole day while poor Rosie’s still bloody missing?’ Maggie flushed red, upset that Steve’s sloppiness
reflected badly on her just as she and Umpire were getting on. ‘I am so sorry you’re only hearing about this now, sir.’
‘So am I, and I’ll be dealing with DC Berry later,’ said Umpire, looking as furious as she felt. ‘Tell me everything.’
‘I found the laptop Rosie emailed Cassie from and she’s also been using it as a diary. She wrote in a series of Word documents about being bullied and about being pestered by someone
with the initials GS.’ She gave him a quick outline of what Rosie had said about girls she knew being promiscuous and pressuring her to be the same. ‘On Monday, the day before she went
missing, the last thing Rosie wrote was that GS would tell her parents if she didn’t do it – presumably have sex – again.’
‘For fuck’s sake, why didn’t I know any of this last night?’ Umpire snapped at her. ‘Right, come with me.’
‘Where to, sir?’
‘To see Kathryn Stockton again. DC Small, you stay here in case the Kinnocks need anything.’
He stormed out of the front door and Maggie had to walk fast to keep up. The look on his face told her Steve was going to be in a lot of trouble for not passing on her message and even though he
was her friend, deservedly so. She couldn’t believe he hadn’t taken her seriously when she said GS could be an important lead. Why hadn’t he passed it on? The delay could make all
the difference to them finding Rosie alive.
‘Sir, I’ve done some digging of my own about GS. I’ve already asked Kathryn if she knows anyone with those initials and she said no. But I’m not convinced she was being
straight with me.’
‘So we ask her again,’ said Umpire abruptly. She couldn’t tell if he was angry with her as well as Steve and mentally she kicked herself for not thinking to call him again last
night.
‘She might have seen GS hanging around the house on Tuesday, sir,’ Maggie suggested, almost breaking into a jog to keep up with him.
‘Kathryn wasn’t in the area when Rosie disappeared, though. She was seen leaving the house at ten fifteen a.m. and then we have a witness who saw her on the other side of Haxton
fifteen minutes after that.’ He gave her a sideways glance. ‘Yes, I double-checked her alibi.’