Bad Things Happen: when a child goes missing

by K Leitch

  ‘I don’t know why she seems so familiar to me though,’ Millicent said. ‘I never met the girl, but there’s definitely something about those eyes… where have I seen them before?’

  ‘Oh she probably just reminds you of someone you met at the golf club Millicent,’ said Susan testily, ‘must you always have to try and be the centre of attention?’

  Millicent gave her an infuriated look and flounced out of the room.

  Carla went into the kitchen and raised her eyebrows at Irene, who was in there washing up cups.

  ‘Bloody hell, talk about tense; and what was all that about before I arrived?’ Carla asked, ‘You could have cut the atmosphere with a knife in there.’

  Irene shrugged, ‘Oh just the usual thing Ma’am; Millicent having a go at Susan because little Hannah is still being looked after by Susan’s mum. Seems like there’s some old bitterness there; apparently Millicent feels that she doesn’t get her fair share of the children. She seems terribly jealous of Fiona, Susan’s mum, despite the fact that the poor woman has been through two nasty bouts of cancer. Seems she can’t get over the fact that Susan stayed at her mums when she had her babies, personally I don’t know what the woman expects, it’s only natural to want to be with your mum at a time like that isn’t it?’

  ‘I suppose so,’ said Carla distractedly, ‘right I’m going to speak to this Gloria Roberts see if she can shed any light on our mystery girl, and then I’ll head on over to the coroners. Dorothy should have finished the autopsy by now…um any developments you can get me on my mobile.’

  Gloria Roberts was no help at all; she remembered Mary as a girl who had cleaned her house a couple of times, but she knew nothing more about her than her name and that she had been disappointed with her work the last time she’d used her. She’d got her name from a card in the local shop window, but she might have her phone number somewhere.

  Carla waited patiently while Ms Roberts flitted around her house hunting for the number and wasn’t at all surprised when she came back empty handed. She decided not to waste anymore of her time and left.

  The visit to the coroners was slightly more fruitful; although it could just make everything even more complicated. It seemed that some of the blood found on the victim, Terry Dobson, wasn’t his own. There was blood on his knuckles as if he had been in a fight.

  ‘Looks like he punched someone in the mouth hard enough to make it bleed profusely; there is some saliva mixed in with the blood, and we found a tooth near to where the victim lay. So if you find someone with a swollen mouth and a front tooth missing you’ll have your man, or should I say woman, as this tooth has definitely come from a woman’s mouth,’ said Dorothy with the inevitable smile. Carla smiled in return and made her way slowly back to the station. She remembered the conversation she had had with Tracy the day earlier about a man and woman in the woods arguing, oh why hadn’t she been paying attention. Could it be that Mary and Terry had fought over something? But why would Mary kill him? But surely it had to be Mary…or maybe this stranger that Duncan mentioned had it in for Mary and Terry got in his way…oh god she was getting nowhere. She needed to get her team together so that they could go over all this new evidence that they had; she called Ted.

  ‘Can you call everyone back to the station Ted; we need to go through all that we’ve got and work out where we go from here. Oh except Frank or Sam, one of them had better head back up to the gypsy camp and see if Mr Finny has emerged from his van yet, I still have to find out where he was at the time of Terry Dobson’s death. And anyone distributing photos of Mary Brown can carry on…we may still get lucky there.

  ‘Let’s hope so Carla,’ said Ted despondently, ‘that little lad’s been out there for long enough I reckon; chances of finding him healthy and whole are looking pretty slim from where I’m sitting.’

  Carla got off the phone and sat staring at the white board in front of her. She had pictures of Owen and Mary side by side at the top of the board and pictures of Terry Dobson and the murder scene underneath. They had recovered Dobson’s shoes and, as Duncan had said, they did match the ones on the CCTV footage from the high street. So at some point Dobson and Mary were together with Owen Marshall on the night he was kidnapped, which meant as far as Carla was concerned, Dobson’s death was in some way connected to the kidnapping. Now all she had to do was figure out how; but as Ted said, time was running out for little Owen so she had to figure it out soon!

  CHAPTER 28

  She ran until her lungs were bursting; tripping a few times on hidden tree roots in her haste. Half way home she had got rid of the gun; throwing it deep into the undergrowth where she was sure it wouldn’t be found for a while…at least not until she was long gone anyway.

  Once safe inside the house she was able to check her face; she hadn’t expected him to hit her.

  He had left her a message in the usual spot; and Mary had rushed to meet him. Full of hope that he had had a change of heart and would now be travelling to Ireland with her and the boy as they had planned. Only to find that he wanted nothing more to do with her and her “fucking stupid ideas”; in fact he said that if she didn’t get the hell out of the area immediately he was going to the police. She had done her best to try and persuade him; reminding him of all his promises, how they were going to be a proper little family in Ireland.

  He had money; Terry had said when they had first got together, enough for them to buy a little small holding in Ireland and live a simple, but happy, life. He had gone along with all her plans; encouraging her, agreeing that it was only fair and right. Feck it, the man had even helped her that night, only to dump her when the going got tough. Mary had shouted and begged, but he had remained unmoved until she had started hitting him. At first he had just laughed at her; after all he was considerably bigger than she was, but then he got angry and he punched her square in the jaw, knocking her off her feet. She had lain there, spitting blood and teeth, head spinning as he continued ranting at her to, ‘fucking well leave me alone you stupid fucking bint, or I will be telling the coppers,’ and something inside her had snapped.

  His shotgun had been leaning against a tree near to where she lay, and in the blink of an eye she had grabbed the gun and blown half his head off. It was all over in the matter of a few seconds, one minute Terry was shouting and swearing at her, the next he was on the floor next to her twitching. Mary ran! But not before she had searched every pocket in Terry’s blood soaked coat, and taken any money she could find. She would need every penny to make it back to Ireland.

  In the cool of the kitchen, she held a cold flannel to her face and thought through her plans. She had met her friend Maya yesterday evening and Maya had given her some money, not much but with what she had taken from Terry’s pockets today she had about £575. It wasn’t much; but it was enough to buy a couple of ferry tickets and pay for a cheap boarding house, which would have to do until she could find work. She had hated asking Maya for money, she counted her as one of the few real friends she had made since coming to England.

  She had met Maya when she had first come over from Ireland. They had both ended up boarding in the same house; both doing pretty much anything to survive, and had hit it off immediately. Maya was one of the few people that Mary had told about her past, and her reasons for leaving Ireland. They had cried together, and in a way they had saved each other. She had been really upset when circumstances meant that they had to go their separate ways. So it had been an amazing coincidence that they had both ended up in the tiny village of Kenley. Mary had hardly believed her eyes when she had seen Maya coming out of the village stores one morning. They had swapped numbers promising to keep in touch. That would never happen now...she had killed a man…she was a murderer; life for her would never be the same again.

  She slumped down on the floor; shaking from head to toe, how had she come to this? This was not how it was meant to be, surely if there was any justice in the world…ha! She shook her head, what are you thinking Mary…justice, not in
this lifetime…and definitely not for you.

  It took all of her resolve not to get her tin and open her veins for good this time; but she had her angel to think of now, and she needed to keep calm. She began packing her meagre belongings into a bag; including the few bits of clothing that she had bought for the boy. She carefully prepared a syringe of the sedative that Terry had procured for her, to enable her to keep the child quiet and calm on their long journey. She had her train tickets to Liverpool and from there she would get the overnight ferry to Ireland and home.

  She started to prepare a meal for her angel…nothing too heavy, she didn’t know how he would deal with a sea crossing, when a shadow fell across the back window and the door was flung open.

  For a couple of seconds Mary thought it was Terry who had come back to life, out to get his revenge. She let out a terrified scream and then, when she realised who it actually was, she started to back away in disbelief and horror as the tall man filled the space in the tiny room.

  ‘Well, well, well Mary girl, you’ve been fecking busy haven’t you?’

  Her eyes darted round the small room looking for anywhere that she could run, but he crowded her back into the room blocking off any chance for escape. He towered over her and she crumpled to the floor feeling the familiar helplessness and despair wash over her…he had found her…she’d been so close to getting away for good…she began to pray now…pray that he didn’t find the boy.

  ‘What were thinking you stupid fecking cow…did you think you could just leave, did you think I wouldn’t find you?’

  Mary began shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  ‘Where is he Mary…the boy, where is he…do you know how much trouble you might have caused you fecking moron. If they find out about the kids I stand to lose everything…do you understand me bitch EVERYTHING!’ He was shouting right in front of her now, she could see the fury and madness in his eyes as he spat all over her face, he held her cheeks pulling her face round to his, she cried out in pain and he squeezed her injured jaw even tighter.

  ‘Well you know what happens now don’t you?’ he said quietly. Mary shook her head again and let out a desperate wail.

  ‘Noooo…please… don’t take me back…just walk away, you don’t have to do this…NOOOO!’

  She screamed in agony as he squeezed her jaw again, he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her up to her feet, then punched her full in the face. Mary fell down banging her head on the side of the sink as she did, just missing her eye. She rolled herself into a ball in an attempt to protect herself from the beating that she knew was coming. His boot slammed into her side forcing the air out of her chest, over and over again he kicked her, then grabbing a handful of hair he pulled her up and started to slam his fist into her stomach. Mary felt blood filling her mouth, she began to choke on it, spitting blood all over him, which just fuelled his anger. ‘Oh you fecking disgusting cow!’ he shouted and punched her again in the face knocking her to the floor again. Mary’s last thought before she blacked out, was that she must stay alive no matter how much he beat her, she must stay alive!

  She felt herself slowly coming back to consciousness; her vision was blurred but she was pretty sure that she was alone in the kitchen now. A new panic took hold of her…she didn’t know how long she had been unconscious….she couldn’t let him find the boy and she was sure that if he had left her here he was probably searching the house. She lay quietly and tried to hear any noise coming from the rooms upstairs…there was somebody banging around up there.

  She tried moving, the pain was excruciating, her shoulder felt like it had been dislocated and she was bleeding heavily from her nose, but with great difficulty she managed to get to her feet. The room seemed to be spinning round her and trying to walk in a straight line was almost impossible but she had to stop him before he found the boy, she grabbed a kitchen knife from the drawer as she went.

  Slowly, painfully she moved towards the stairs and dragged herself up them. As she got near the top she heard him; he was in the front bedroom, tearing it apart by the sounds of it. She flattened herself against the landing wall and crept along to the bedroom door. She waited there for a moment, firstly to get her strength back but also to muster up the courage of what she was about to do. Her hands were shaking with fear, her heart was racing and her breathing was laboured but she knew there was no other way. She held the knife firmly in her hands and crept up behind him.

  He heard her before she even had time to lift the knife to strike. With a roar of rage; he grabbed her hand and turned the knife towards her. Face to face they struggled, brother and sister equal in their determination, but he was the stronger and Mary saw his smile of triumph as she felt the cold steel enter her chest, he pushed her away and once again she was on the floor. Her blood started to pool around her, she could feel it sticky under her outstretched hand. He seemed to have had enough and without a backward glance he left, running down the stairs and out of the house.

  Mary felt her life slipping away, but she still had one thing left to do. She dragged herself, coughing up blood as she went and leaving a trail of blood from the gaping wound in her chest, slowly… little bit by little bit… to the wall by the chimney. Her eyes were dimming and her body was screaming out for release from the agony that she was in. She prayed as she went, over and over to a god that she had so despised before, ‘Please give me the strength… just enough…please.’ Craig always was a stupid fucker, all brawn and spite and no actual brains, he had completely missed the little panel that was half hidden by the curtain on this wall. Once she reached the wall Mary felt with her hands along the edge until she found the bolt. It was stiff but at last, God had heard her prayer and with her dying breath she was able to pull it free.

  Craig left the house through the patio doors and slumped down in the garden against the wall. He was breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon; he rested his head back and tried to collect his thoughts. ‘What the feck was going on, that stupid little cow trying to come at him with a knife…she fecking deserved everything she had got…stupid bint. Although he hadn’t meant to kill her for Christ’s sake…he would have to answer for that when he went back home.’ He looked down at himself, ‘Fecking hell he was covered in blood, and he still hadn’t done what he came here for.’ He needed to get changed before anyone spotted him. He got up slowly and started making his way to the end of the garden. Better to stick to the woods as much as he could, keep out of sight. He had just got to the fence and had started climbing over when a wild springer spaniel came running at him, snarling and barking. It jumped up and sank its teeth into his ankle. Craig screamed in pain and kicked at the dog with his other leg, but the dog held on tight. Blood was running down onto his foot now and Craig was in serious pain. He jumped back down into the garden again knocking the dog off his leg as he did so. The dog came for him again all teeth and growls, Craig pulled back his arm and punched it full in the mouth. With a yelp the dog fell to the ground, Craig didn’t hang around, he jumped back up onto then fence and over into the woods, running as fast as his torn ankle would allow him. He ran until he was sure the mad dog wasn’t following him and then at last he stopped and rested against a tree. His ankle was burning and throbbing like the very devil, he had just killed his fecking sister…he was raging with frustration. Someone was going to have to pay for all of this, oh yes he would make sure of that.

  Hattie the springer spaniel licked her wounds. She felt scared and disorientated; her master had fallen down and hadn’t got up again. Her head was hurting and she was hungry. She spotted an open door and went inside.

  CHAPTER 29

  Duncan watched the door of the blue van for the rest of the day; waiting for the moment when Gabe would finally show his face. He completely understood why his friend had locked himself away, Gabe had loved Terry like a brother and would be completely devastated by his death, that and the fact that he’d been the one that had found the body…oh god poor bloke it didn’t
bear thinking about. But Duncan also knew that the police were only going to be understanding for so long and he needed to speak to Gabe before the police did. Gabe had a temper on him and he might get himself into some serious trouble if he didn’t talk it through with Duncan first. He noticed some movement late in the afternoon and sure enough Gabe’s door opened and the man himself emerged looking frail and tired. He started to walk to the woods, heading in the direction of where Terry had been found earlier, Duncan followed him catching him up before he had got very far.

  ‘How are you doing mate,’ he said flinging a huge arm round Gabe’s shoulders, ‘um…do you think this is a good idea coming out this way, we could go for a walk…um on the common maybe, have a chat, help you to clear you head…what do you think?’

  Gabe just turned and looked at him expressionlessly, ‘Got to find the dog,’ he said and carried on walking.

  ‘What dog?’ said Duncan mystified for a moment. ‘Oh you mean Terry’s dog…right ok then I’ll help.’

  They walked further into the woods; as they approached the spot where Gabe had made his gruesome discovery earlier in the day, they both slowed down and stood in respect for a moment. Whatever his faults Terry had always been a good friend to Duncan and his grandparents, Duncan wished he knew why Terry had got himself mixed up in the kidnapping of a little kid, it didn’t make any sense, he said as much to Gabe who just shrugged.

  ‘It were that girl…made ‘im stupid she did. I warned ‘im about getting mixed up wiv it, but ‘e said ‘e could ‘andle it. Fucking stupid bastard look where it’s got ‘im…stupid fucker…’ Gabe’s shoulders began to shake and Duncan went to put an arm round him, but he shrugged him off and walked on ahead.

  They made their way through the woods calling for the dog as they did so, but without any success. After a couple of hours they decided to call it a day and head back to camp. Gabe was terribly upset that he hadn’t found Terry’s dog.