‘What do you mean someone's getting at you?’
‘It's Charlotte. There's this man she knows who keeps writing to her and we thought – I thought it was a bit of a joke –’
‘Writing?’
‘Yes. Letters.’
‘Threatening letters?’
‘No, no. Nothing like that. Not exactly. He sends her slushy love letters all the time. She told me he's harmless, but –’
‘Who is he?’
‘I don't know. All I know is his name, Ted. Charlotte can tell you who he is. She's known him for years. I think they were at school together. She'll tell you.’
‘Charlotte never mentioned these letters to us.’
‘We never thought anything of it – she didn't think it was important.’
‘It seems odd he would free you from your wife if he wanted Charlotte back, but we'll find him and get to the bottom of this.’ She nodded at Peterson who was already on the phone. ‘It looks as though Lucy's gone to stay with a friend,’ Geraldine turned to Matthew Kirby again. ‘That's what she told Ben, and that means it's unlikely she's come to any harm. Now, can you tell us if anything's missing? If we know what she's taken with her, it might give us a better idea of her plans.’
The SOCO continued tapping at the keyboard while Geraldine and Matthew looked in the wardrobe. Matthew thought some of Lucy's t-shirts and her jacket were missing, but he was vague about whether she had taken any other items of clothing with her. ‘Abigail dealt with all that sort of thing,’ he explained with an awkward shrug.
‘If you can tell us what you think might be missing –’ Geraldine prompted him but he shook his head helplessly.
Ben came up to tell his father supper was ready, and was no more help than his father. ‘She always wears jeans when she's not at school,’ he said, as though that summed up Lucy's entire wardrobe.
‘Have you found anything?’ Geraldine asked her colleague when Matthew and Ben had gone downstairs.
‘There are plenty of nasty comments on her Facebook page.’
‘What sort of comments?’
‘Four eyes, skinny, pinhead, slag – there's loads, gov. It's just kids’ stuff but there's lots of it from a variety of sources. It's a pretty concerted campaign of bullying if you ask me – there are even jibes about her mother.’ He glanced at Geraldine, a frown creasing his young forehead. ‘She's such a cow she drove her mother to kill herself,’ he read aloud. ‘That's terrible. And it goes on.’
‘Who was posting these comments?’
‘I can probably find out where they came from, but it looks like a gang who knew each other.’
‘Kids from her school?’
‘Most probably. Our best bet will be to send the hard drive to Lambeth Labs and let them do the necessary.’
‘Is there anything on her Facebook page that might help us trace the friend she went to stay with?’
The SOCO shook his head. ‘There's nothing friendly here, gov. I've checked her emails and there's nothing there. She's been on instant messenger but the messages have been deleted. We'll need to restore them. I can't do that, it's too advanced for me, I'm afraid. We'll have to send the hard drive to Lambeth.’
Geraldine nodded. ‘We'll take the laptop with us. I'll check the bathroom while you're sorting it out.’
‘Yes, ma'am.’
The basin in Lucy's bathroom was bare and there was no toothbrush or toothpaste in the cabinet. Apart from that Geraldine could find nothing of interest and they left, taking Lucy's computer with them.
‘Take what you like, Inspector,’ was Matthew's response when they told him. ‘Just find Lucy.’ He looked close to tears.
‘She'll be all right, dad,’ Ben told his father, but the boy looked as distraught as his father.
‘She's just being a drama queen,’ Evie said. ‘She's run off to a friend to give you a scare, that's all. It's her age, Matthew. She'll be back.’
Geraldine had the hard drive from Lucy's computer sent straight to the Forensic Science Service lab in Lambeth, and followed up her urgent request with a call. The lab assured her they would give the case priority. After that there was nothing more to do but wait.
‘Call me as soon as you find anything,’ she insisted. ‘A teenage girl's life is in danger and we need anything you can come up with to help us trace her urgently. Phone me immediately you find anything. We're particularly interested in any Instant Messenger chats she's been having.’
The next morning a call came through. ‘We worked on it through the night,’ a voice told her, ‘and we've got everything there is. We haven't done a report yet, but your girl was messaging with a kid called Zoe and they arranged for Lucy to go and stay with her.’
‘Thank goodness for that. Now all we have to do is find Zoe.’
‘In the most recent exchange Zoe said her father would bring her over to pick Lucy up, and they had a code word so they'd recognise each other.’
Geraldine felt a lurch of anxiety. ‘You mean Zoe wasn't anyone Lucy knew? They met online?’
‘It looks that way.’
‘Can you trace Zoe?’
‘We should be able to, but it might take a while. There's something not quite right here. It's probably just a glitch. Leave it with us and we'll get back to you as soon as we have something.’
Geraldine called Matthew Kirby straightaway, but neither he nor Ben had ever heard Lucy talking about her friend called Zoe.
‘She hasn't got any friends,’ was Ben's firm response.
Matthew was predictably vague. ‘Abigail used to deal with Lucy.’
‘It's lucky Lucy's friend was using her real name,’ Peterson said when Geraldine told him. ‘That's all we need, really. Now let's see if we can find Zoe.’
Geraldine nodded. ‘We'll see what we can find out. In the meantime, the FSS are working on it so if we can't find Zoe, hopefully it shouldn't take them too long to find out where she was sending her messages from.’
55
CONCEALMENT
That evening Geraldine called Lucy's form tutor who agreed to see her straightaway. Miss Abingdon had a low voice and a gentle manner, just the sort of teacher Geraldine would have expected Lucy to turn to in her distress.
‘I'm afraid Lucy never opened up to me, Inspector,’ the form tutor said sadly. ‘She was isolated, even before she lost her mother. It's hard for pupils to join an established social group, but Lucy really made no effort to fit in and the other girls – well, they didn't like her to begin with, and then with the loss of her mother she became even more withdrawn. There isn't really anything more I can tell you. I do my best to get to know all the pupils in my tutor group. We're very strong on pastoral care, but Lucy wasn't receptive to the support we offer here. We did try to help her and, in time, I think she would have come round, but her mother dying obviously disturbed any progress she was making socially.’
‘Was she friendly with a girl called Zoe?’
‘Zoe Mason? I don't think they were friends. I don't think Lucy had any friends. She was –’
‘Zoe Mason?’ Geraldine seized on the name. ‘Is she in Lucy's class?’
‘Yes.’
‘How can I contact her?’
Miss Abingdon shook her head. ‘She's not in my group, I'm afraid,’ she explained.
First thing next morning Geraldine went to school to speak to Zoe Mason only to learn the girl wasn't in school that day. Geraldine felt her breath quicken. She made a note of Zoe's address and took an IT trained officer with her.
Zoe Mason lived in a neat little house about ten minutes walk from the school. A clematis grew up a trellis at one side of the door, which must have looked attractive when it was in flower although at this time of year it was little more than a long withered twig.
A tubby woman came to the door, wiping her hands on a tea towel. ‘Yes?’ She scowled apprehensively when Geraldine held out her warrant card, taking a step backwards, her hand on the door. ‘Well? What do you want? What's this about?’
‘Mrs Mason, your daughter, Zoe –’
‘Zoe's feeling poorly. I was just about to call the school to let them know. There's no way she can go to school, the state she's in. I'll give her a letter when she goes back.’ She started to close the door.
‘Mrs Mason, I'm not here to talk about Zoe's absence from school. I want to ask to her about one of her class mates. Has she mentioned a girl called Lucy?’
‘No. She doesn't know anyone called Lucy, and it's got nothing to do with Zoe if some girl from the school is in trouble with you lot.’ She sniffed. ‘It doesn't surprise me, the way some of them carry on, but Zoe's never been in any trouble and whatever this girl's got herself into, I'm telling you it's nothing to do with Zoe.’
‘No one's in trouble with the police, Mrs Mason. One of the girls in Zoe's class has gone missing –’
‘Missing?’
‘A girl in Zoe's class, Lucy, has gone missing from home and we want to ask Zoe if she can help us to find her.’
‘Well, she can't. She doesn't have any friends called Lucy. I'd know if she had.’
‘Mrs Mason, Lucy has been in regular contact with a girl called Zoe. They've been sending messages to each other online every day recently. It's quite likely Zoe might have some idea where Lucy's gone, so I'd really like to speak to her. May we come in?’
Zoe's mother led them into a narrow hallway with yellowing wallpaper and a grey carpet. There was a faint musty smell of damp and stale cigarette smoke. Mrs Mason stopped at the foot of a steep staircase and leaned forwards, holding onto the banister.
‘Zoe!’ she shrieked, her voice suddenly shrill. ‘Get down here!’ There was no answer. ‘She's listening to her music. You'll have to go up.’
A pink sign was displayed on one of the doors: ‘Zoe's Room’. There was no response when Geraldine knocked. She banged more loudly on the door. Still no answer. Gingerly she pushed the door open. A strong sweet aroma of joss sticks hit her as she picked her way through piles of magazines which lay inside the door like a barrier: Heat, Closer, Star. In the dim light of a lava lamp she saw an open wardrobe stuffed with clothes, most of which seemed to be black. A girl was lying on the bed, her eyes closed, feet tapping, listening through headphones.
‘Zoe,’ Geraldine called. The girl didn't move. ‘Zoe!’ she shouted. The girl's eyes flickered open and she turned her head. Seeing Geraldine in the doorway, she sat up suddenly, yanking her headphones off. ‘May we come in and talk to you for a moment?’
‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’ She was pretty, with dyed blonde hair and blue eyes which looked unnaturally large, outlined in black eyeliner.
Geraldine stepped into the room. ‘Hello, Zoe, my name's Geraldine. I'm a police officer and I would like to ask you a couple of questions. This is Roger, and he'd like to take a look at your computer.’
Zoe looked away and fiddled with the headphones that were lying beside her on the bed. ‘I'm sick. I can't go to school. Ask my mum. She'll tell you.’ She gave an unconvincing cough.
Geraldine reassured her that they hadn't come round to find out why she wasn't at school. ‘It's about a girl we think you may know who's gone missing.’
Zoe looked up with sudden interest. ‘Missing? What, you mean like run away? Who is it? Who's missing?’
‘Lucy Kirby.’
‘Lucy?’ Zoe pulled a face. She seemed disappointed. ‘Like who's going to notice?’
‘Zoe, this is very important. I need you to tell me where Lucy is.’
‘How would I know?’
Geraldine took a step nearer. ‘We found messages on Lucy's computer –’
‘You looked at her computer?’ Zoe picked up her headphones again and fiddled with them as she spoke. ‘You shouldn't do that. Did you look at her Facebook page?’
‘We looked at everything.’
‘It wasn't me,’ Zoe burst out, suddenly apprehensive.
Geraldine spoke as gently as she could. ‘What wasn't you, Zoe?’
‘Well, maybe I did join in a bit. But it was mainly the other girls.’
‘What other girls?’
‘I don't know. I can't remember.’
‘What were the other girls doing?’ Zoe didn't answer.
Geraldine thought about the comments on Facebook. ‘Were they bullying Lucy online?’ Zoe shrugged and stared at her legs stretched out in front of her on the bed. ‘It's very important you tell me the truth, Zoe.’
‘We only did it for a laugh,’ Zoe said. ‘It was only a few things we said. It was just a joke, you know. We all do it, lark about with each other. Only some people have got no sense of humour. She's a dork.’
‘Zoe, tell me where Lucy is.’
‘I can't.’
‘Why not?’
‘Because I've got no idea where she is. Why would I? Ask her dad.’
‘Zoe,’ Geraldine spoke very slowly. ‘We know Lucy was sending messages to a friend called Zoe shortly before she left home, and we know she made arrangements to stay with Zoe.’
‘Well it wasn't me. My God, she wasn't my friend. She never sent me any messages and I never emailed her. Why would I want to do that? She was weird.’
‘How was she weird?’
‘You know, weird. No one liked her.’
‘And you're sure she never sent you any messages?’
‘I told you.’
‘Zoe,’ Geraldine took a step further into the room. ‘Would you allow us to take a look at your computer?’
The girl sat up and glared at Geraldine across the dimly lit room. ‘What do you want to do that for? I'm telling you, I never emailed Lucy Kirby. She's so sad.’
Geraldine glanced around. ‘May we?’ She nodded at a flat screen desktop on a small table. It was switched on.
‘Go on then, if it'll make everyone go away and leave me alone. But you won't find any messages from Lucy Kirby there, I can promise you that.’
The SOCO perched on Zoe's chair and began tapping at the keys.
Zoe slipped off the bed and crossed the room to stand at his shoulder. ‘My mum got it for me.’
‘You don't mind if I take a look then?’
‘You can look. You can fix it for me as well while you're at it. It doesn't work properly. It's rubbish.’
‘What's wrong with it?’
‘I don't know, do I?’
‘When did it stop working?’
Zoe shrugged. ‘I told my mum to get it fixed but she says we can't afford it. She says there's computers at school I can use, but what use are they to me here? They're crap anyway. Most sites are blocked. It would be different if it was her computer. She'd get it fixed straightaway if it was hers.’
‘So you haven't been chatting with Lucy on instant messenger?’ Geraldine insisted patiently.
‘With that weirdo? Are you joking?’
The SOCO checked and shook his head. ‘Nothing here, ma'am. We could send it off to be looked at but I don't think she uses Instant Messenger.’
‘I already told you that, didn't I?’ Zoe snapped. ‘And there's no way you're taking my computer away.’
‘Is there another Zoe at school?’ Geraldine asked.
‘No.’ The girl went and lay down on the bed again and picked up her headphones. ‘I've no idea where Lucy is, she wasn't my friend, and I never had any messages from her.’ She turned her head away and lay staring up at the wall.
Geraldine went back downstairs and found Zoe's mother in the kitchen. After some resistance, she agreed to allow Geraldine and her colleague to look around. They searched every room in the tiny house, the attic and the garden but there was no sign of Lucy Kirby. It seemed Zoe Mason had been telling the truth. Ignoring Zoe's foul mouthed objections, Geraldine instructed the SOCO to take the computer away to be checked, just in case, although she was convinced Zoe was telling her the truth. She had been so sure they had discovered Lucy's friend, Zoe, and now it seemed they were no closer to tracking down the missing girl.
While Geraldine had b
een away from the station, a report had been received from the Lambeth Labs, and an emergency meeting was convened on her return to bring everyone up to speed.
‘I wonder if Lucy's brother knows of any other friends she had called Zoe. Perhaps someone from York?’ the DCI suggested, when Geraldine had told them briefly about the futile visit to Zoe Mason.
‘Unlikely,’ Peterson said. He had been on the phone to Lambeth Labs discussing their report. ‘According to the messages from Zoe, she wasn't far from Faversham. And there's more. The Lab said Zoe's location was too carefully and consistently hidden for it to be accidental.’
‘What do you mean?’ Geraldine asked, her own anxiety reflected in the DCI's face.
The sergeant looked down at the notes he was holding. ‘Zoe's messages to Lucy were sent from a laptop with wireless internet access. The Lab traced the computer but it was bought for cash so there's no way of discovering the identity of the purchaser. The internet connection was pay as you go, so there was no contract, just an initial payment and one subsequent top up of fifty pounds, made with a voucher. We've checked the CCTV in the shop where it was purchased but there's nothing.’
‘Keep studying the film. Go through it frame by frame,’ the DCI said.
‘We have, ma'am.’
‘Well go through it again. There must be something. Start checking CCTV records of all recent voucher purchases.’
They all knew it was hopeless.
‘What about the location?’ Geraldine asked Peterson. ‘Haven't they got anywhere with that? Surely the Labs can give us the address the messages were sent from, or at least pin down the area?’
‘In theory, yes, but whoever was sending messages to Lucy Kirby was moving around.’
‘Moving around? What the hell do you mean?’ The DCI sounded angry.
‘Unless they catch the user online on the laptop, pinpoint the geographical location and move in straightaway, before the user moves on, they have no way of finding out where the messages are being sent from. They think Zoe – whoever that is – must have been sending messages from a car, driving around to make sure the laptop's whereabouts couldn't be identified while it was in use.’ There was a pause while the team registered the implications of what they had just heard. Zoe wasn't a child. ‘The chances are Zoe has disposed of the laptop by now,’ Peterson added. ‘In the final message Zoe told Lucy her father would pick her up.’
Dead End Page 24
