He woke with a start as tepid beer pooled in his lap. ‘Shit,’ he muttered and stood up, leaving the almost empty bottle on the table. Heading for the bathroom he stripped off his clothes and left them in a heap outside the door. He climbed into the shower and stood under the warm water for a long time.
Chapter Fifty-Nine
Helen opened the door to the Yellow Sands Bed and Breakfast. The place was barely still standing but it would do. As long as she had Casey nothing else mattered. She approached the desk and rang the bell. An elderly man shuffled through the door, smiling as if she was the first visitor he’d had in years. Maybe this wasn’t the best place to be.
‘I’d like a room, please,’ Helen said. ‘For a week.’ She wasn’t sure she’d be there that long, but it was best to keep her options open. The less she had to deal with anyone, the better.
‘Just for yourself?’ the old man asked.
‘Yes. But have you got a double room?’
‘Of course,’ he said and turned the guest book around for her to sign in.
Helen filled it in and paid in cash. The old man handed her a key and told her to give him a shout if she needed anything. She waited until he’d disappeared before going outside to the car and bringing Casey in.
Casey stood in the doorway of the room holding her mouse bag close to her chest. She looked up at Helen. ‘I thought we were going to Daddy’s house,’ she said.
‘We are, honey,’ Helen said and led her inside.
‘When?’ Casey asked.
‘Maybe tomorrow. I’m not sure yet.’
Casey yawned. ‘I’m tired,’ she said and Helen nodded. She took Casey’s hand and sat her on the double bed.
‘You’ll have to sleep in here with me tonight, honey,’ she said to Casey. ‘Is that okay?’
‘Will Daddy come and stay here with us?’
‘I don’t know, honey,’ Helen said and pulled Casey’s shoes off. ‘But we’ll go and visit him soon. Why don’t you put your pyjamas on and brush your teeth?’
After Casey was asleep, Helen sat staring out across the harbour watching the ships far out at sea, dim lights on a black landscape, thinking about what to do next. She wanted to feel settled, wanted to be at home. But how could she when that woman was after her daughter? She liked it in Whitby, she’d spent a lot of time there as a child, but she’d moved back to Redcar for a reason. It’s what she knew. What her family knew. This was just a place for holidaying, not for living. But she had no choice now. She couldn’t go back. Not ever.
Chapter Sixty
Opening his eyes, Gardner looked at the clock. Five thirty a.m. He rolled over and pulled the sheet across his body.
He stared out into the dark room, sleep escaping him, thinking he’d let Abby down. He felt as though he was letting everyone down at the moment – Abby, Chelsea, his boss. Maybe it was him. He was the weak link. The newspapers were right. He shoved the pillow behind his head. Perhaps he should stop feeling sorry for himself and just get on with it. Get on with speaking to Helen Deal again.
He knew that it may come to nothing but still, something was nagging him. And what if it came to something? Then what? What if the girl was Beth Henshaw and it was over? He tried to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that told him he’d probably never see Abby again. So what? That was irrelevant. He turned over and faced the other wall as if it would help.
Eventually he got up and went into the living room. He could start flicking through Abby’s files. Maybe something would click.
The sun was just coming up as he scanned each page, unsure what he was looking for. Memories formed, inspired by the notes, some his own, some from other officers. He kept turning the pages.
And then he saw it.
‘Shit,’ he said.
Helen Deal. One of the witnesses from the doctor’s surgery.
Helen Deal had been there. Why hadn’t he remembered this before? He read through the page again. PC Cartwright had interviewed her. She’d known nothing. End of.
‘Shit,’ he said again and walked into his room to get dressed.
And then a jolt. His heart was thumping against his chest.
Her daughter died.
Gardner paced up and down the small patch of floor in his room.
Her daughter died.
He sat down on the end of the bed and rested his head in his hands, focusing on what Abby had said. Simon had taken her picture a few months before Beth disappeared. Helen told him that her daughter had died. When? Had she said?
He stood up again. What had Helen told him? Casey was born on the eleventh of November 2004, two months before Beth. Helen had told Simon her baby had died shortly before Beth was born. That must’ve been Casey. If she’d had another kid by then she would’ve mentioned it to Simon, wouldn’t she? So even if she’d had another baby, even if she’d called her Casey too, it would’ve been after Beth was born. So the birth certificate Helen showed him couldn’t belong to the little girl he’d seen. It wasn’t possible. There was nothing in Cartwright’s notes about a baby either.
‘Shit,’ he said and scrambled around on the floor for his clothes. In less than two minutes he was out of the front door and on his way.
Gardner checked his watch. Only just gone six forty-five. He parked across the street from Helen Deal’s house and debated whether he should make a move yet.
At seven he got out and went and knocked on the front door. There was no answer. The street was empty, as you’d expect at that time of the morning. As he looked along at the surrounding houses, he noticed that each was identical. Curtains drawn upstairs and down. No lights. Even the street lights were virtually all out.
Gardner knocked again and looked at the upstairs windows of Helen’s house. No signs of twitching curtains. No one checking who was calling so early in the morning.
He turned around and went back to his car and headed for the station, file in hand. Lawton was at her desk when he got there. She probably had less of a social life than he did. She looked up as he rushed through the office.
‘Sir?’
‘Is Cartwright in today?’
‘I think so,’ she said. ‘What’s going on?’
‘I need you to do something for me,’ Gardner said. If he was going to do this he should at least have concrete evidence that the little girl wasn’t Casey Deal. ‘I need you to contact the registry office and find out about Casey Deal. Her date of birth was 11 November 2004. I need to know when she died. It’s urgent.’ He started to walk away but then turned. ‘And if you see Cartwright, let me know.’
Gardner pushed through the doors and started searching for Cartwright. He should’ve known he’d be loitering around the canteen, talking shit. He shouted him from across the room. Cartwright stood up and took his time walking over.
‘Sir?’ he said. ‘I was just–’
‘The Beth Henshaw case,’ Gardner said, not caring what excuses Cartwright had for not actually doing any work. ‘You interviewed Helen Deal. You remember that?’
Cartwright looked blank so Gardner thrust the file at him. ‘She was in the doctor’s surgery when Abby Henshaw was there. You interviewed her afterwards to eliminate her. Ringing any bells?’
‘Yes,’ Cartwright said, eventually. He glanced at the notes. ‘Why?’
‘Did she have a baby? Helen Deal?’
Cartwright shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You can’t remember or you didn’t check?’
‘I don’t know.’ He looked at the notes again. ‘I asked if she’d seen anything, if she’d seen the van, if she knew Abby Henshaw. But she didn’t so that was it.’
Gardner was losing patience. ‘But did she have a baby? Was there a baby in the house when you questioned her?’
‘I don’t know. I didn’t see a baby. We were sat in the kitchen, I didn’t see-’
‘You didn’t check?’
‘No, I... There was a baby’s car seat in the hallway. I didn’t think–’ He stopped and looked at Gardner who was breathing heavily. ‘What’s going on?’
Gardner walked away, too angry to speak. He was furious at Cartwright. How could he have been so stupid, so incompetent? But why hadn’t he checked too? Why hadn’t he gone over every single witness himself?
He could’ve found Beth Henshaw five years ago.
Chapter Sixty-One
A few phone calls later Lawton informed Gardner that Casey Deal died on the 15th of December 2004. Helen Deal had never had another child; at least she hadn’t registered another birth.
That girl couldn’t be her daughter. Abby had been right. And he’d ignored her.
Gardner sat in his car, watching Helen Deal’s house. He hadn’t told anyone yet. Not even Lawton. He couldn’t. Not yet. He couldn’t face that he’d made such a huge mistake. He needed to find Helen Deal and make things right.
Just after eight, a young blonde woman approached the house and climbed the steps. She rummaged in her bag and pulled out a set of keys. Letting herself in she closed the door behind her. Gardner climbed out of the car, his legs stiff. He crossed the street and knocked at the door. A few moments later the woman answered it.
‘Yes?’ she said.
‘I’m DI Gardner,’ he said, showing her his warrant card. ‘I’d like to speak to Helen Deal, please.’ He suddenly realised how much of a mess he must look in his clothes scraped up off the floor.
The woman looked startled. ‘She’s not here. What’s wrong?’
‘You are?’ he asked.
‘Sara Walters. I’m her nanny.’
‘Do you know where she is?’
‘She’s on holiday.’
Gardner felt his heart sink. He tried not to show the panic he was feeling. ‘When did she go?’
‘Yesterday.’
Gardner nodded. ‘Do you know when she’ll be back?’
Sara shrugged. ‘She said next week. She wasn’t exactly sure.’
Gardner sighed. ‘Has Casey gone with her?’
‘Of course.’ Sara looked past Gardner, up and down the street. ‘Is something wrong? Has something happened to Casey?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Can I come in?’ Sara paused and then stepped back. ‘Do you know where they went?’
‘Devon,’ she said. ‘Somewhere in Devon. She has relatives there.’
‘Did she leave a contact number or an address?’ Gardner said, looking around.
‘No. I mean, I have her mobile number.’
‘Okay, I need you to give it to me.’
‘I don’t understand. Is she in trouble? Is it about that woman? The one who followed me and Casey? Has she done something?’ Sara asked, her face creased with concern.
‘Sara?’ She stopped and took a breath. ‘Casey’s okay but I need to get hold Ms Deal as soon as possible.’
Sara nodded and bent to get her phone out of her bag. Gardner walked into the first room at the top of the stairs. It looked like a guest room. He quickly scanned the drawers and cupboard and then moved on. The next room was Casey’s. It was bursting at the seams with toys and games. They hadn’t cleared out when they left. He checked the wardrobe; there were a lot of empty hangers. He looked around at the rest of the room. It would be impossible to tell how much had been taken. It appeared that Casey had at least one of everything.
He moved on to what was obviously Helen’s room. There were a couple of photos, possibly of her parents, but nothing compared to what he’d seen in the living room. He checked the drawers and wardrobe. Like Casey’s there were a lot of spaces. Of course he couldn’t know how many clothes Helen had to start with, but she obviously had money and kept up appearances. He was willing to bet that she had taken more than was necessary for a week’s holiday.
He went back down the stairs and found Sara with the phone to her ear. As he approached her she held it out to him.
‘It’s not ringing,’ she said.
Gardner took the phone and listened. He hung up and then found Helen’s number in Sara’s contact list and tried again himself. He rubbed his eyes and wondered what to do next. He looked up; about to tell Sara to call him if she heard from Helen, when something caught his eye. Or rather the lack of something caught his eye.
He walked past Sara into the living room. The mantelpiece and tables were completely empty.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Gardner sat outside the house and tried to rehearse his words. After several failed attempts he gave up. It didn’t matter how he said it, it would sound the same in the end. He’d made a huge mistake. Abby had been right and instead of helping get her daughter back, he’d let her slip through his fingers. Abby trusted him. She put all of her hope and faith in him and he had let her down, utterly and completely.
When he could put it off no longer, he took a deep breath and walked up to the front door. Knocking three times, he prepared himself to break Abby Henshaw’s heart once more.
Simon led him through to the kitchen, calling out to Abby as they approached. Abby turned around from the dishes and smiled at Gardner. The smile quickly faded as she noted the seriousness of his expression and she wiped her hands on her jeans and went over to the table. He could see her hands shaking. Simon put an arm around her shoulders and they both waited for Gardner to speak.
Clearing his throat he pulled out a chair. ‘Why don’t we sit down?’ he said. Abby and Simon looked at each other and then sat, their legs touching.
‘Did you get my message?’ Abby asked. Gardner just nodded. ‘Her name’s Helen, right? Helen Deal?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
The room was quiet except for an insistent dripping tap and the white noise of normal life continuing on the street outside. Gardner wished he was anywhere but here. He wished he had something else to tell them. At least if Beth was dead it would be an ending; some closure for them. But this, it just re-opened the wounds that had never really closed, and this time poured a good helping of salt on them.
‘Michael, please,’ Abby said. The sound of his first name was jarring. He rarely heard it at all these days but coming from Abby it was painful. She’d only ever used it once or twice before and now he knew why. It was too personal. The barrier that his profession allowed him meant he could remain at a distance. He hadn’t always achieved that but it gave him the option all the same. Now he was completely part of this family’s hell and he had no choice but to see it through.
Gardner swallowed. ‘I decided to go back to speak to her after I got your message. I thought maybe she remembered you too,’ he said, looking at Simon. He could see Abby’s hands twisting on her lap. He didn’t want to tell her about Helen, about her being there that day. Not yet anyway. ‘I stopped by last night but there was no answer. Then later I thought about what you’d said in your message. About her daughter dying.’
Abby and Simon looked at each other. ‘And?’ Simon said.
‘She told me that Casey had been born in November 2004. The birth certificate verified it. Casey Deal was born then. And you were right; she died on the fifteenth of December that year. She was five weeks old. I thought maybe she’d had another kid, like you said, that if she got pregnant again straight away, if she named her Casey too...’
‘But she didn’t though, did she?’ Abby said.
Gardner shook his head. ‘There’s no record of her having another baby.’ Abby gripped Simon’s hand. ‘I went back this morning,’ Gardner continued. He could see Abby’s chest rise and fall in rapid breaths. ‘She’s gone. Helen and Casey. They’re gone.’