S. J. Bolton

by Blood Harvest

  ‘I’ll have to rush you.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘We tee off at noon.’ There was a book open on his desk. He closed it and reached to put it on the windowsill behind him. He hadn’t looked her in the eyes for more than a couple of seconds.

  ‘There is a woman in this area who suffers from congenital hypothyroidism,’ said Evi. ‘I need to find her. I think it could be relevant to Joe Fletcher’s abduction.’

  Dr Warrington reached over and switched off his computer. ‘Sorry, Dr Oliver,’ he said. ‘You know the rules.’

  ‘What about up here?’ asked Harry, feeling the smoke of Rushton’s cigarette fill his lungs.

  ‘Well, the dog handlers went through the church like a dose of salts,’ replied Rushton. ‘Twice. They’ve done the cellars and the churchyard. A couple of times we thought they might have picked something up, but it didn’t lead anywhere.’

  ‘The boys come into the church quite often,’ said Harry. ‘They were here last Sunday for the service.’

  ‘Yes, well, that could explain it. We had a bit more luck with the CCTV footage in Blackburn. I’ve just had a call through.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Aye. I haven’t had chance to tell his parents yet, so keep it to yourself, but the couple we picked up at King George’s were spotted again, getting on a bus in the direction of Witton Park. We spoke to the driver just over an hour ago.’

  ‘Does he remember them?’

  ‘Vaguely. He thinks they must have got off somewhere along King Street because they definitely weren’t on board when he approached the park. The bus was just about empty by then.’

  ‘Any trace of them after that?’

  ‘Nope. And not likely to be. They could have had a car parked anywhere along that road. The important thing is, this couple haven’t come forward. In spite of their picture being on the news last night and this morning and in today’s Telegraph, nothing.’

  ‘So you haven’t been able to rule them out?’

  ‘Quite the contrary. We managed to enhance the image until we could see some sort of sticker on the heel of the child’s shoe. Tom tells us Joe had Spiderman stickers on his trainers. We’ve also been able to pin down the clothes the two of them were wearing. Remember, both were in baseball caps, both wearing oversized coats?’

  ‘I remember,’ said Harry.

  ‘Clothes exactly like them can be found in British Home Stores, not half a mile from King George’s. We’ve been through the till receipts and found a transaction of just those four items, almost exactly an hour before Joe was last seen.’

  ‘Clothes bought specially for the abduction,’ said Harry.

  ‘It was a cash transaction, sadly, so we’ve no hope of tracing the credit card, but we’re pretty certain now that the couple on camera are Joe and his abductor,’ said Rushton. ‘We’ve got people working on the image, to see if it can be enhanced any more, but we’re not hopeful. Small man, tall woman, could be either.’

  ‘The footprint you found in the Fletchers’ house on the night of Millie’s abduction could have come from a small man or a tall woman,’ said Harry.

  ‘Aye, it could. And given that the film footage showed no sign of Joe struggling, it’s likely he went with someone he knew.’

  ‘So he could be here after all?’

  ‘Aye, he could. And I’m happy to be proved wrong as long as we find him in time. I’ve got a team doing a house-to-house search. We’re asking people for permission to take the dogs round their homes. We can’t force anyone, obviously, but so far everyone we’ve asked is cooperating.’

  ‘How long will it take to get round every house in Heptonclough?’

  Rushton sighed. He stubbed out his cigarette on the gravestone and then dropped it on the grass. ‘We won’t manage it today,’ he said. ‘But I’ve put a couple of cars on both roads out of town. Everyone leaving is being stopped and questioned. We’re asking permission to search the boots.’

  ‘Are people agreeing to that?’

  ‘If they don’t, we want to know why.’

  No, it was not going to end like this. ‘Yes, I know the rules,’ Evi said, trying not to snap. ‘I’ve read them three times in the last twenty-four hours, Dr Warrington, so don’t try quoting them at me. It seems to me that in situations where serious harm may occur to a third party, the doctor isn’t just able to pass on information, he’s obliged to.’

  Warrington leaned towards her, locking his fingers together in front of his chin. ‘That refers to passing information to the police,’ he said. ‘Get the officer in charge of the case to come and see me and I’ll see what I can do.’ He was bending down, picking up his bag.

  ‘There isn’t time for that,’ said Evi. ‘Look, I know I’ve sprung this on you and I’m sorry, but I’ve been up half the night working on this.’

  He opened his mouth. She wasn’t giving him a chance.

  ‘I have neither the time nor the energy to be polite, so here’s the bottom line,’ she hurried on. ‘If you don’t help me and Joe Fletcher dies, I will make certain everyone – the police, the General Medical Council, the media, absolutely everyone – knows about this conversation and that you put rules, not to mention golf, before a little boy’s life.’

  Silence in the room. Evi was trembling. For a second, she thought it wasn’t going to work, that he would order her out of the room and make an official complaint to the GMC even before twelve noon tee-off. Then he reached out and switched the computer back on.

  ‘Right,’ he said, not meeting her eyes. ‘What exactly are we looking for?’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I need to find a patient, most likely under thirty years old, suffering from congenital hypothyroidism.’

  Rushton’s phone was ringing. He’d stood up, walking quickly away from Harry, his phone pressed against his right ear. Then he turned back, switching it off as he came back. ‘We’ve had a sighting in Great Harwood,’ he said. ‘Walk with me to the car, Harry.’

  They set off, drawing curious glances as they made their way along the churchyard path. ‘A lad answering Joe’s description has been seen going into a house,’ continued Rushton. ‘No children are known to live there and the owner is someone we’ve had our eye on for a while. We’re sure he’s a nonce but we can’t prove it. He’s clever.’

  ‘And you think he’s got Joe?’ asked Harry, in dismay.

  ‘I hope so, lad. I bloody well hope so. Because this call came within the hour. If it’s Joe, he’s still alive.’

  ‘Will you tell Gareth and Alice?’

  ‘Not till we know anything for certain. We should have a car there in ten minutes. They won’t wait for me.’

  They’d reached Rushton’s car. The waiting journalists, spotting the detective chief superintendent and sensing the urgency in his manner, came striding towards them. Rushton jumped into his car before turning back to Harry. ‘If I were you, lad,’ he said, ‘I’d get back into that church and do what you do best.’ The car set off, disappearing from sight as it turned the corner.

  Knowing he couldn’t cope with journalists, Harry turned and walked quickly back up the hill. People were starting to leave the church and he realized he hadn’t heard the helicopter for several minutes.

  Sinclair and Tobias Renshaw, both dressed for the outdoors, had followed Harry and Rushton out of the church grounds. Standing a little behind them, her eyes flicking up to Harry and then back down again, was Gillian.

  ‘Any news, Vicar?’ asked Sinclair, as Harry drew close.

  Harry shook his head. ‘Nothing yet,’ he said. Had Joe spent the night with a known paedophile? What state would he be in, even if he was alive? No, he simply couldn’t start thinking like that.

  Alice and Millie had appeared directly in front of him. Hovering at their side was Jenny Pickup.

  ‘How are you holding up, Alice?’ asked Sinclair, in a voice that surprised Harry with its gentleness. Alice looked up at the tall man as though he’d spoken to her in a foreign language.

 
; ‘Has anyone seen Gareth and Tom?’ she asked.

  ‘They were on Lower Bank Road about half an hour ago,’ said Gillian, stepping closer. ‘They went on to the old railway line with me and a few others. We wanted to check the Collingway tunnel.’

  ‘They would have come back when the helicopter began its search, though,’ said Tobias. ‘Alice, I wish you’d come back to our house and rest. It’s too cold for the little one to be out.’

  ‘You should, Alice,’ said Jenny, taking a step closer to her grandfather. ‘Or at least leave Millie there. Dad’s housekeeper will keep an eye on her. You can’t carry her round on your back all day.’

  Alice’s eyes were drifting. ‘Thank you,’ she said, to the nearby lamppost. ‘I need to keep her with me. I have to find Gareth now.’

  She turned away. More and more people were coming out of the church now. The search was back on.

  ‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid there’s nothing else to try.’

  Wondering how she was going to find the energy to get out of her chair, Evi nodded her head. ‘I know,’ she admitted.

  An hour after John Warrington had agreed to help her search for the mysterious Ebba, they’d been forced to give up. They’d run every search through patient records that they’d been able to think of. Only the records of the last thirty years had been computerized, but Warrington had gone into the practice basement and found several boxes of older records. They’d gone back forty years, knowing the chances of Ebba being older than that were almost non-existent, but although they’d found several people suffering from the condition, all had died. In thirty-four years, no one with congenital hypothyroidism, not even anyone with a goitre, had been registered as a patient. They’d racked their brains trying to think of similar conditions and had run several other searches. At last, they’d been compelled to give up.

  ‘How sure are you that she lives in this area?’ asked Warrington.

  ‘She must do,’ said Evi. ‘Someone with that condition couldn’t drive.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ agreed the GP.

  ‘How can someone like that slip so completely off the grid?’ asked Evi, almost trembling with frustration. ‘Why wasn’t she diagnosed as a baby? Why wasn’t she treated? And why, given all her medical needs, do the local doctors know nothing about her?’

  Warrington didn’t reply and Evi pushed herself to her feet. ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry you missed your game.’

  ‘I’ll phone our receptionists at home,’ the doctor offered. ‘And a couple who’ve since retired. It’s possible they can remember something, think of something. If anything comes up, I’ll let you know.’

  ‘I’m sinking, Harry,’ said Alice. They’d got as far as the corner of the churchyard and then Alice stumbled. He’d had to reach out to catch her, to stop her and Millie from tumbling to the ground.

  ‘You’re doing incredibly well,’ said Harry. He put an arm round her shoulders and led her to the wall. Her breathing was too fast. ‘You’re calm, you’re functioning and you’re taking care of your other two children,’ he went on. ‘I can’t imagine what strength that takes.’

  ‘It’s the worst feeling in the world,’ said Alice. ‘Not knowing where your child is. Nobody can feel like this and stay sane.’

  ‘You can,’ said Harry, although the truth was he wasn’t sure. He really didn’t like the way Alice seemed unable to focus on anything.

  ‘I’ll tell you what it’s like,’ she went on, leaning so close to him it felt uncomfortable. ‘It’s like Joe never really existed, that I just imagined him. And now, I really need to see Tom and Gareth because I’ve got this feeling that they’ve gone too. Then I’ll look round and Millie will have disappeared. It’s like someone’s rubbing us out, bit by bit.’

  ‘Millie is asleep on your shoulder,’ Harry said quickly, realizing that if he stopped talking he might start sobbing. ‘Tom and Gareth are close by, looking for Joe. Alice, look at me.’

  She raised her head. He thought perhaps he could have fallen in love with those pale turquoise eyes, had he not already …‘We will find Joe,’ he said. ‘Some time very soon, we’ll find him. I wish I could promise you we’ll find him safe and well, but you know I can’t do that. But one way or another, we will find him. You’ll be able to see clearly again, you’ll be able to grieve, if you have to, and you’ll be able to move on. You’ll never be alone.’

  ‘Harry, I…’ Turquoise eyes filling with tears. A second pair was staring at him. Millie had woken and was looking at Harry as though she understood every word.

  ‘You have incredible strength,’ he said. ‘Your family will survive because they have you. You’re its heart. You’re its soul.’

  ‘I can see why you became a priest,’ said Alice, reaching out to touch his arm. ‘But it isn’t real, is it?’

  He thought perhaps the tears were in his eyes, after all. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, although he knew.

  ‘There’s no faith shoring you up right now,’ said Alice. ‘No direct line to the man upstairs. It’s just you, isn’t it?’

  ‘Come on,’ said Harry. ‘Let’s get you both inside.’

  82

  EVI WAS IN HEPTONCLOUGH. THE STREETS WERE QUIET again. She pulled her car up to the kerb and got out. If she’d ever been more tired in her life before, she really couldn’t remember. She crossed the pavement and walked up the short path to the terraced house. As she stood on the doorstep waiting, something white floated down and settled on her coat sleeve. The snow that had been predicted all day had arrived.

  ‘I can’t get an answer from Gillian’s flat,’ she said, when the door opened. ‘I’m worried about her.’

  Gwen Bannister sighed. ‘Come in, love,’ she said. ‘You look fit to drop.’

  Evi followed Gwen along the floral-patterned hall carpet and into a small living room. The carpet was worn in places, the room hadn’t been decorated in a long time. A television in the corner of the room was switched on.

  ‘Have you seen her today?’ asked Evi, glancing at the television, wondering if Gwen would turn it off.

  ‘Sit down, love. I’ll put the kettle on.’

  The last thing Evi wanted to do was drink tea, but she sank gratefully on to the sofa. ‘I’m not sure we should hang around,’ she said. ‘I’m really quite worried. When did you last see her?’

  ‘About two hours ago,’ replied Gwen, after a moment. ‘She’s been helping with the search all day. Then, about five o’clock, when it was just too dark to go on, I saw her chatting to the vicar.’

  The television was too loud. Evi flinched as the TV audience started applauding. ‘And did she seem OK?’ she asked.

  Gwen shrugged. ‘Well, I think he might have said something she didn’t much like, because she spun on her heels the way she does and flounced off down the hill. Is she definitely not at home?’

  ‘There are lights on but she won’t answer the phone or the door.’ Evi had waited outside Gillian’s house for fifteen minutes, getting colder and stiffer. In the end, she’d had to try something else.

  ‘I’ll walk down and check on her,’ Gwen was saying. ‘Will it wait till I’ve had my tea?’

  ‘Probably,’ said Evi, although she really would have preferred Gwen to go immediately. ‘If you’re at all concerned about her, especially if she isn’t there, I need you to phone me,’ she went on. ‘If she seems basically OK, could you tell her that someone will call her in the morning? A colleague of mine from the hospital. She’s going to be taking over Gillian’s case.’

  Gwen frowned. ‘I thought you and she were doing quite well.’

  ‘We were. I’m sorry, I can’t really go into it. Thank you for your help and please phone me if you need to.’ Evi pushed herself to her feet.

  ‘I will,’ said Gwen, as she did the same. ‘There’s been no more news on the little lad, then?’

  Evi shook her head.

  ‘His poor mother. Makes you wonder what’s going on
up here, doesn’t it? And in church too. I hear they’ve left a constable in the vestry overnight, just in case … well, it doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?’

  Evi moved towards the door. Gwen was standing in her path but there really was no time for chatting. Evi made a show of looking at her watch and Gwen stepped aside.

  ‘I should be more sympathetic to Gillian, I know,’ Gwen began, as she followed Evi down the hall. ‘She lost her daughter and two other little girls she was fond of. Course, nobody thought it was anything other than coincidence, what with all the time in between each one. Four years in between Lucy and Megan, then another three before we lost Hayley. And what happened was so different. One fell, one disappeared, one died in a fire. How could we have known they were all linked?’

  ‘You couldn’t,’ said Evi. ‘Nobody should feel to blame.’ She stopped, three feet from the front door. All linked? ‘Gillian was fond of Lucy and Megan?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh aye. She did some nannying for Lucy when she was alive. Can you manage that door, love?’

  ‘I think she told me that,’ said Evi. ‘I didn’t realize she knew Megan as well.’

  ‘Used to babysit for her. Sweet little lass, she was. The family moved away. You don’t get over something like that, do you? I should have more sympathy with Gillian, I know that. Look, let me.’

  Evi watched Gwen reach past her to open the door. She made herself step forward and over the threshold. ‘Thanks, Gwen,’ she said. ‘Keep me posted.’

  Outside, Evi leaned against her car. Already a fine dusting of snow was covering the windscreen. She couldn’t lose her head now. Find the link, Steve had said: the victims were not selected at random, there is a link between them. Had she found it? Did she have enough to go to the police?

  She drove down the hill, noticing Harry’s car outside the Fletchers’ house. A few seconds later she parked. Ignoring Gillian’s flat, she went to the door of the newsagent’s beneath it. The shop was in darkness. She banged on the door. Was there a bell? Yes, up there in the top left corner. She pressed it for five seconds, waited a second, then pressed it again. At the back of the shop, a door opened. Lights flickered on and someone was coming towards her. Let it be – yes, it was the woman she’d spoken to yesterday.