by Helen Phifer
‘Yes, they do.’ He glanced in the rear-view mirror at Emily, and Morgan shut up talking, realising this might be highly sensitive information. Ben drove back to Rydal Falls even faster than he’d driven to Penrith.
Two
After literally throwing Emily out at the end of the drive to her apartment, Ben drove to Cloisters Lane, where they were greeted by what seemed like utter chaos. There were police vans and cars strewn all over the narrow road, abandoned by officers and PCSOs who were now out on foot searching for Charlie. It was procedure to flood an area with staff when a child was reported missing, to help look for them, but if this was a crime scene – and God forbid it was – then they had just well and truly contaminated it. Jumping out of the car Ben surveyed the carnage. Sergeant Paul Madden, or Madds as he was affectionately referred to, was today’s duty patrol sergeant. He came striding towards him. Ben held his hand out, pointing to his radio. Madds unclipped it from his body armour and passed it to him.
‘This is DS Matthews, can every patrol that is currently on Cloisters Lane come to my car for a quick briefing.’
He passed it back to him. ‘Any signs of her? Has the house been searched?’
‘Nothing, the house has been searched from top to bottom and the dog has been inside.’
‘Attic, cellar?’
‘Attic has a small access to it. There are no stepladders in the house. There’s no way she could have got up there.’
‘Not voluntarily, no, but if someone has put her up there…’ His voice trailed off.
‘Shit.’
Madds shouted up for someone to find a ladder. Ben waited until everyone was gathered around; he counted six police officers and four PCSOs plus him, Morgan and Madds, and he knew Amy was inside with another officer speaking to the girl’s mother.
‘Thank you, but if there is no sign of Charlie then we have to do this by the book. I want a scene guard on either end of the street and I want CSI here to do a full sweep of the house. We’ll coordinate a search team. I want every single street occupant spoken to and asked to check any outbuildings, garden sheds, garages. We need to narrow down a last confirmed sighting of Charlie.’
He turned to Madds. ‘When did she go missing?’
‘Her mum left her alone to go to her friend’s yesterday teatime, said she was outside playing in the street before her dad was due to pick her up. When she came back a couple of hours later, she’d had a few too many glasses of wine and fell asleep on the sofa.’
‘What, without checking on her kid? How old is Charlie?’
‘Nine and no, she didn’t bother checking on her, because apparently she’s a very independent girl who looks after herself.’
Ben felt a white-hot rage fill his chest, and his fingers clenched into tight fists by his side.
‘She left her nine-year-old unattended whilst she went to her friend’s, got pissed, came home and didn’t even think to see if she was tucked up in bed? Jesus Christ, what was she thinking? So much for our golden hour. That passed at least twelve hours ago.’
Madds nodded. ‘In her defence, Charlie was supposed to be getting picked up by her father. So far, the dog hasn’t picked up anything out of the ordinary. It traced her scent along the entire street outside everyone’s house. According to neighbours, Charlie played out most days on her own and was happy to just wander up and down the street.’
Ben turned to Morgan. ‘Can you go inside, speak to Amy and see what’s going on, please?’
She nodded at him and walked towards the council house with an overgrown front garden full of discarded, broken toys. One half of the street was council houses, then suddenly a bit further down it was a tree-lined avenue of large semi-detached and detached houses.
A police van turned into the street and Cain, the officer driving it, jumped out and went around to the back, where he pulled out a pair of stepladders taken from the caretaker’s cupboard back at the station.
‘Has the house-to-house been done?’
One of the PCSOs spoke up, ‘We started at that end.’ She pointed to the opposite end of the street.
‘For now, I want a PCSO on each end of the street. Residents can come and go but no vehicles can enter the street and only residents who live here are allowed access. The rest of you start door knocking and checking gardens. We’ll take it from there. Hopefully, Charlie will turn up before we need to go back to the station for a full briefing.’
Morgan walked inside. It was much better than she’d imagined. It was clean for a start; the laminate flooring almost sparkled it was so smear free. The walls were all painted white: no grubby fingermarks to betray there was a nine-year-old kid living here, and it was surprisingly clutter free. She paused at the bottom of the stairs, inhaling deeply, then went into the living room, where a pale-faced woman with black circles under her eyes, who looked a little older than Morgan, was nursing a mug of tea. Her legs were tucked underneath her on a huge corner sofa. Ben, who had followed her inside carrying the stepladders, leant them against the wall. Amy stood up.
‘Boss, Morgan, this is Charlie’s mum, Amanda Standish.’
Ben crossed towards her, holding out his hand. She stared up at him then slowly took it. Morgan copied, reaching out to shake the woman’s hand. Amanda’s fingers were like blocks of ice.
‘Detective Constable Morgan Brookes and this is my superior, Detective Sergeant Ben Matthews.’
She realised she didn’t actually know what to say to her. What she wanted to say was What the bloody hell were you thinking leaving your kid alone all that time? but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to get off on the wrong foot; all those questions and more would be asked when she was interviewed back at the station.
‘I know you’ve already told officers what happened, but please, can you tell me?’
Amanda looked to Amy, who nodded encouragingly at her.
‘I, I had a bit of a falling out with my ex, who was supposed to pick Charlie up and take her to his. He’s moved in with his posh girlfriend, so he keeps cancelling and I saw red with him. I told him he better come get her because I was going to my friend’s and she was going to be here on her own if he didn’t.’
She kept her head low and didn’t make eye contact with her. Morgan looked at Amy. Ben had taken a back seat, letting her do the questioning.
‘Have we got his details? Did he pick Charlie up?’
‘Yes, Brett Mosley and he’s been spoken to. He didn’t pick Charlie up because he went out for a meal with his girlfriend, Phillipa Summers. Both of them have been spoken to separately and neither of them have seen Charlie since last weekend.’
‘Do you believe them, Amanda? Would Brett take Charlie and not tell you, to make you feel bad?’
She shook her head. ‘No, he’s an idiot but he wouldn’t do that.’
Morgan made a note she wanted Brett’s house searched and his alibi checked out.
‘So, what happened after your argument with Brett?’
‘Charlie was playing outside; she loves being out there even in the rain. I was fuming because I love her so much, but it’s not easy being on my own with her, and I look forward to a bit of a break when she goes to her dad’s. She’s a little bit slower than most kids, and she is very stubborn. She likes to wear the same things; she has a wardrobe full of lovely clothes and a brand-new school uniform, but insists on wearing her old one, which is too small and grubby; she says it doesn’t scratch her like the new ones do. We argue over it; she looks as if she’s a dosser with no one to care for her, but it’s not true. The neighbours have phoned the social on me a few times because she’s outside in all weathers, wearing those scruffy clothes and never a coat. They think I don’t look after her, but I do. I try my best.’
‘But you left her alone yesterday?’
‘I thought he’d come and pick her up. I asked her when she came home from school if she wanted to come to Julie’s with me and she said no. She doesn’t like Julie much.’
‘Where does Julie li
ve?’
‘Around the corner, not far away; three Bay Fell Grove. Julie could see I was upset so she opened a bottle of wine. I only meant to have one or two glasses.’ Her voice broke then and she let out a sob. Amy passed her a tissue. Morgan saw movement from the corner of her eye and realised Ben had taken the ladders upstairs to check the attic.
‘I’m not a bad person. I made a big mistake last night.’
‘I’m not judging you, Amanda. We just need the facts right now so we can try and figure out where Charlie is and get her home safe. We also need a photo of Charlie to circulate to all officers. Have you got one?’
She nodded. Standing up she crossed to the sideboard and opened the drawer. Pulling out a plastic-wrapped packet of school photos and removing a smaller one, she passed it to Morgan, who looked down at it. Charlie looked sullen; her eyes were downcast and the small upturn of her lips looked more like a grimace than a smile; her blonde hair, freshly plaited especially for her photograph, was fraying at the ends and coming loose where it looked as if she’d been playing with it, nervous maybe about having her picture taken. Morgan felt her heart tear a little bit more for this girl.
‘I ended up staying and between us we drank three bottles of cheap white wine. I was so drunk, I stumbled home. Charlie wasn’t in the street and there were no lights on, so I assumed Brett had picked her up.’
‘When did you realise that he hadn’t?’
‘When the school rang to ask why Charlie wasn’t there. I told them she was at her dad’s but I would ring and find out. I phoned Brett and his girlfriend answered. She said they hadn’t picked her up because they’d gone out.’
‘Then what did you do?’
‘I panicked. I got up and ran into her bedroom but it was empty, then I checked the house and there was no sign of her. Then I rang you lot.’
Tears were flowing freely now, and Amanda was sobbing loud, hitching breaths as she struggled to control the fear inside her. Morgan glanced at Amy. She didn’t get the impression that Amanda was hiding anything; she’d made a bad parenting choice that might affect the rest of her life.
‘What about grandparents, friends, neighbours, are any of them likely to have taken her in?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t speak to my parents; they live in Morecambe. I would think that if the neighbours took her in they would have phoned you themselves, and then social services. The only friend I have who lives around here is Julie. Oh God, where is she? What if she’s hurt, or someone’s taken her?’
‘We’ll find her, I promise you we will find her. Can I take a look around?’
‘Help yourself, everyone else has.’
Morgan nodded. She went upstairs to find Ben balanced on the top of the ladder as he began to hoist himself up into the attic. His phone in one hand he turned on the torch and swept it around. Morgan grabbed hold of the ladders to keep them steady.
‘Anything?’
‘No, there’s a couple of cardboard boxes. Hang on, I’ll check them.’
His legs disappeared into the hatch and she thought about telling him to be careful, but he’d already gone. She heard him walking around and the sound of boxes being opened. He came back to the hatch and lowered himself back onto the ladders.
‘Nothing, some Christmas decorations that’s it.’
She whispered, ‘There’s nowhere to hide a body?’
‘No, it’s been boarded out but it’s covered in dust. There’s no smear marks where the dust has been disturbed.’
‘Good.’
Ben stepped down onto the carpet. ‘What do you think?’
‘I think someone has seen Charlie playing out on her own, maybe realised that her mother wasn’t in and has taken her.’
Ben nodded. ‘Poor kid, she must be terrified. We need to find her.’
Morgan didn’t add that she hoped she was still alive. She was praying that she was because the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
Three
They went back downstairs, where Ben excused himself to go outside and speak to the dog handler. Morgan sat down across from Amanda.
‘You didn’t find her then?’ She spat the words out.
‘No, unfortunately she’s not here, or hiding anywhere.’
‘Why would she be hiding all this time we’ve been looking for her?’ Another loud sob.
‘We have to check, Amanda. You wouldn’t want her to have somehow climbed up there and hurt herself. You know what kids are like, they get themselves into all sorts of mischief. We can’t rule anything out and it’s far better to be safe.’ She stopped herself from saying ‘than sorry,’ changing the subject. ‘Which school does Charlie go to?’
‘Priory Grove, just round the corner.’
‘Does she like it there? How does she get on with the other kids and teachers?’
Amanda shrugged. ‘Not really, does any kid like school? They’re pretty good with her, she can be a bit of a’ – she paused as if searching for the right words to describe her daughter without sounding harsh – ‘a bit of a madam; she knows her own mind and if she decides she isn’t doing something, well then she isn’t.’
‘So, do you think she would go with a stranger then? How good is she at stranger danger? Does she understand it and the consequences if she did?’
‘She’s clever, she’s not stupid. Just because she’s stubborn and has funny quirks about her it doesn’t mean she’s an idiot. She did a stranger danger course the last two summer holidays on the trot with some of your lot. Keeping Safe, I think it’s called. She loved it, even got certificates for it; so yes, she knows the dangers. I wouldn’t let her out on her own if she didn’t.’
Morgan nodded; she’d never heard of Keeping Safe and wondered who delivered it. She had a gut feeling that despite Charlie’s awareness of strangers it somehow hadn’t made a blind bit of difference last night. Or, perhaps it meant that whoever had her wasn’t a stranger? This brought her back to the list of who she could be with.
‘Can you tell me the names and addresses of anyone who visits here, who Charlie knows, even if it’s just a familiar face? Do you have milk delivered; is it the same postman or woman; can you think of anyone who she would know enough to think they weren’t strangers? Does she have a best friend or someone from school that she might go and see?’
Amanda sat forward, her head shaking. ‘No, no, bloody no. I can’t afford to have milk delivered; the post is delivered by someone different every day; and she has no best friend at school or out of it. I told you and the other woman, she likes to be on her own.’
Morgan knew she was making Amanda angry but she didn’t care. Her kid, her nine-year-old kid, who she hadn’t seen since teatime yesterday, was God knows where with God knows whom and she had an awful feeling that something terrible had happened to her, so it was tough: the woman was going to have to answer whether she wanted to or not.
‘Is there anyone in the street she knows or speaks to? Could she have run away?’
‘Christ! How many times? She barely speaks to me on a good day, and where the hell would she run away to? There’s nowhere to go. Stop wasting time and go find her.’
Standing up, Morgan had to get out of there before she said something that wasn’t very professional. Charlie sounded pretty similar to herself as a kid; she had been quiet and had had no real best friends until she was a teenager and spent a lot of time on her own. She wondered if this was because subconsciously she knew about her mum and what had happened to her. Had it changed her childhood on some deeper level? Whatever it had been, it had been a pretty rubbish, lonely childhood and she found herself rooting for Charlie more than ever.
Please be okay, kid. Let us find you locked in someone’s shed or garage, because us strange kids grow up into pretty amazing adults and you have your whole life ahead of you. It won’t always be this way. I promise you it gets better.
Four
PCSOs were deployed to knock on all the doors in the street and surrounding streets. Meg
an and Cathy were doing the odd numbers; Rob and Paul were doing the even. Megan started door knocking at the end of the street with the private houses, Cathy had gone to the opposite end to start with the council houses and they would meet up in the middle. The first two houses had nothing to report and both occupants checked the sheds and garages, coming back to inform her they were empty. She knocked loudly on number eleven with no reply, marking it down in her notebook to revisit. It was a long, slow job but one that needed doing and thoroughly. She carried on along the street. The next house was a little unloved, scruffy compared to the rest of the houses on this part of the street, and the front lawn was overgrown. The gate was broken and she had to squeeze through the gap between the gate and the wall to get inside. Megan figured it must belong to an older person, maybe a widow or widower. It was a shame they’d let it go so much because it was bigger than most of the other houses. She knocked loudly on the door, not really expecting to get an answer, so she was surprised to hear a voice shout, ‘Won’t be a moment.’
Megan stepped back, not wanting to be too close to whoever was about to open the door. She glanced up and down the street. Her stomach was a mess, churning with worry for the kid. Had someone snatched Charlie away? She had a seven-year-old son who liked to play out in the front garden and she felt sick at the thought of someone taking him away. There was the sound of a key turning in a lock, and the paint-chipped wooden door opened with a loud groan.
‘Good morning, officer, how can I help you?’
She jumped, not expecting to see him living here in such a large house. He was an odd but friendly man who always stopped to chat whenever he saw her out on patrol. She liked him a lot despite his terrible taste in clothes. Today he was dressed in a pink and purple tracksuit with a flowery apron on top.
She shouted, ‘Oh, hello, how are you?’
‘Shh, my mother is asleep. She hasn’t been very well. Hello, Morgan, how are you? Please excuse the state of me. I’m in the middle of baking some cakes. Mother has a bit of a sweet tooth and it’s the only thing that cheers her up lately.’
