by Helen Phifer
This made her smile. ‘I’m an adult. I get to decide who I fraternise with. Same again?’ She needed a drink and pointed to the empty San Miguel glass. ‘Let me get them; I asked you here remember. And I’m capable of going to the bar and ordering drinks.’
He didn’t argue with her. ‘Then, yes, please.’
She returned with a large glass of rosé filled with ice, a pint of lager and two bags of Quavers.
‘I’m starving, do they do food here?’
Fin shook his head. ‘I have it on good authority that Friday is burger night, but the rest of the week it’s crisps and pork scratchings.’
This set her off laughing, and she pushed a bag of crisps towards him.
‘No, thank you. I’m good. I couldn’t deprive you of your tea. If you want we can go somewhere and grab something to eat.’
‘You’ll be lucky; October in Rydal Falls isn’t tourist season, so there aren’t a lot of places open. I’m okay, these will put me on until I can go home and make a bowl of cornflakes.’
It was Fin who laughed. ‘You’re joking right?’
She shrugged.
‘Look, let’s drink these and go back to my flat. I’m not the best cook but I can manage something a bit more substantial than a bowl of cereal.’
‘We’ll see, that’s a bit much when we were only meeting for a drink. I don’t want to put you out or anything.’
Morgan was waiting for him to ask about today, about Charlie, but he didn’t and she wasn’t sure whether he was purposely being polite or had some ulterior motive. His phone beeped and he took it off the table where it was face down.
‘Oh brilliant, that’s fantastic news. Well done, you found the missing kid. I bet you’re relieved.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Official press release from Cumbria Constabulary.’ He glanced back down and let out a loud, ‘Oh, I didn’t read it properly; they’ve found a child’s body.’ He turned his phone to face her, and she nodded, trying to blink away the tears that were forming.
‘We did.’
‘Oh that’s tragic and so sad, I’m sorry. No wonder you were working so late.’
She couldn’t answer him without her bottom lip quivering, so she didn’t. He took a drink from his pint.
‘So, what’s there to do around here in October then, because if there aren’t many places to eat I doubt there isn’t much else to do.’
He completely threw her; she’d expected a deluge of questions about Charlie that she couldn’t answer. Picking up her wine glass she took a large gulp. The icy cold wine tasted like liquid heaven as she swallowed it.
‘Well we have lots of lovely walks, the Co-op is open till ten and the best place of all is the library.’
He laughed. ‘That’s it, seriously?’
‘I’m afraid you’ve come to the wrong place if it was excitement you’re after.’
Technically, the last twelve months for her had held more excitement than she would ever want to face in an entire lifetime, but that was the nature of her job and she didn’t want to get into any of that with him. She sipped the wine, savouring the taste and the warm, tingling feeling it gave her cold, tense body. She glanced at him, he was cute. His faded jeans and checked shirt were smart yet casual and sitting this close to him he smelt really good. She wondered what he’d made of her rolled-up, ripped jeans, oversize black jumper and Dr Martens. Her copper hair hung down over her shoulders, and she’d gone for the minimal amount of make-up: mascara, winged eyeliner and nude lips. This wasn’t a date, at least she hadn’t taken it as a serious one. It was more of a get-to-know-each-other-and-consume-alcohol meeting of sorts. She was also aware it was a big F you to Ben and his keeping secrets by dating Emily behind her back. It really upset her that he hadn’t just had the balls to say they were seeing each other. What did it matter to her? They were colleagues and she’d thought they were friends and that was why it mattered so much; friends didn’t sneak around behind each other’s backs.
‘Actually, I’m not after excitement. I had enough of that in my last job. I wanted a bit of solitude, some peace and quiet, so Rydal Falls is pretty perfect for me.’
‘You put yourself on a time out from life?’
He laughed. ‘Yeah, I guess I did. What about you, why are you here? A bright, young, motivated detective like yourself, surely the world is your oyster.’
Morgan lifted the glass to her lips and was shocked to see it was almost empty; she’d drunk that fast.
‘I was born and brought up around here. I don’t know if I’d want to work in a busy city. Rydal Falls has been crazy enough the last year, though I can’t imagine what working in a busy place would be like. Do you want another?’
‘How about we go to my place? I’ll make some supper and we can grab a bottle of wine at the Co-op on the way before it shuts.’
Morgan didn’t know if this was wise. She didn’t really know him, though she couldn’t deny how attractive she found him.
‘Why not? I’m starving and a bottle of wine sounds good. Do you want me to call for a taxi?’
He shook his head. ‘No need, I only live a few streets away. Right in between the pub and the shop, pretty perfect really. I don’t need to stumble too far in either direction.’
He stood up and she followed him, wondering if she should be quite so reckless with someone she barely knew and decided that she needed to let her hair down. Fin had come along at the right time. He didn’t look like a homicidal maniac, and Ben knew who he was. She’d seen his credentials, and if he started acting all weird when they got to his flat, she’d be out of there before he could do anything and she’d never see him again.
They went into the shop, and Morgan picked up a bottle of rosé. She could drink a couple of bottles and still function the next day, or at least she used to be able to. Fin threw in a family size bag of salt and vinegar crisps and a huge bar of chocolate, which lifted him up to an almost godly level of appreciation in her eyes. He also insisted on paying for it all. Carrying their items, because neither of them said yes to a carrier, they walked the short distance to his flat. It was in a semi-detached house: three storey and half the size of her spacious apartment. They went inside and she followed him to the top floor. It reminded her of her dad, Stan’s, flat and she felt a wave of crushing grief squeeze her heart so tight it was difficult to breathe. Fin noticed her reaction, but she couldn’t stop herself from closing her eyes to blink away tears.
‘Are you okay? I know it’s not the nicest place in town but I promise it’s clean and tidy.’
She looked at him. ‘I’m fine, thanks. I was thinking about a similar flat in another time and place, sorry. I’m sure yours is perfect.’
‘I guess you see some pretty distressing stuff, it can’t be easy.’ He opened the door and she followed him inside. It was far more spacious than Stan’s flat; in fact you could have put five of Stan’s inside it. It was, however, painted in a multitude of different shades of grey.
‘I guess whoever lived here really liked muted greys.’
Fin chuckled. ‘Yeah, you could say that. I keep imagining this is what it would be like to live on a battleship.’
This set Morgan off into fits of giggles. She followed him into the kitchen which was also grey.
‘Thank God the cupboards are white, or you’d never find anything.’
He passed her a wine glass. ‘Yes, I’m grateful for that small mercy.’
‘Are you not having a glass?’
‘I don’t really drink wine. I don’t mind champagne now and again.’
‘Oh, me either, darling, I’m quite partial to a glass of the old champagne.’
Opening the fridge, he pulled out a bottle of beer and unscrewed the cap. Morgan poured herself a glass of wine and they turned to each other, clinking glasses.
‘Cheers.’
Before she could take a sip, her phone began to ring in her pocket. No one rang her except Ben or work. She let out a sigh; Fin smiled at he
r.
‘It’s okay, you can answer.’
For the first time since she’d joined Ben’s team, she found that she didn’t want to, that she’d like to just have a couple of hours to herself, but she couldn’t ignore it.
‘Hello.’
‘Sorry, I hope I’m not disturbing you.’
‘Yes and no.’
‘We have a problem, a huge problem, can you come back to work?’
Her heart sank as she realised by the tone of Ben’s voice that something was terribly wrong.
‘Yes, but what’s up?’
‘A call came in fifteen minutes ago, we have another missing child.’
Morgan felt every hair on the back of her neck stand on end as a cold shiver ran through her.
Fin was watching her. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘I’m sorry, I have to go. Thank you though, I’ve enjoyed myself.’
She didn’t give him time to answer as she rushed out of the flat and ran down the stairs, cursing because she’d left her car at home. She rang Ben back, who answered straight away.
‘I need a lift; I haven’t got my car.’
‘Where are you?’
She didn’t want to tell him she was at Fin’s flat, not that it was any of his business.
‘I’m at the Co-op.’
‘On my way.’
The line went dead, and she tried to stop the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach. She reached the main street and huddled in the doorway of a shop. The earlier rain had subsided and there was now a cold chill in the air. What did this mean? Surely another child hadn’t been taken. And if they had, did it mean they just had twenty-four hours before another body would be dumped? A car sped into the main street and stopped on the opposite side. She recognised Ben’s number plate and hurried across the road. Opening the car door she was hit by a blast of warm air and slid inside. He glanced at her and nodded.
‘Sorry.’
‘For what?’
‘Spoiling your night.’
‘It was just a few drinks, well actually it was just one drink; I never got to have another.’
‘Just as well, all hell has broken loose and I couldn’t get hold of Amy or I wouldn’t have rung you.’
Morgan sank back into the soft leather seat, glad that he had. As much as she’d wanted some time to let her hair down, she wouldn’t have forgiven him if he hadn’t called her out.
‘So, what’s happened, have we really got another missing kid?’
‘It seems so. Ten-year-old Macy Wallace from Bay Fell Grove. Her mum came home from work to find the dog with its lead still attached sitting on the front doorstep and no sign of Macy.’
‘Shit, that’s just around the corner from Charlie’s house.’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘What are we going to do?’
‘Find her; this time she hasn’t been missing long. Someone should have seen her walking the dog. Officers and PCSOs have flooded the area. We’re going to pay a visit to Vincent and see what he’s been up to; this is too much of a coincidence. Two girls, similar age, in the same area. The dog handler will be here shortly. Hopefully, there’s more of a lead this time and we can get her back before…’
He didn’t finish his sentence. Neither of them wanted to think of the outcome if they didn’t find Macy. They couldn’t afford to have two young girls in the mortuary. Morgan prayed that whoever had killed Charlie didn’t have another girl so soon. That she would turn up any minute and be fine, because the alternative was too horrific to think about. And what had happened to Eleanor Fleming? Had she met a similar fate?
Eighteen
Ben and Morgan rushed to Vincent’s house which was all in darkness. There were two uniformed police officers waiting outside for them. Ben had told them to hang back until they arrived. He got out of the car and nodded at them. He didn’t care if there was a warrant or not, he was going inside that house to search and no one was stopping him. There was a quiet fury bubbling inside his chest, making it hard to breathe, but he didn’t care. Even if he had a heart attack on the doorstep he was going in – he’d drag himself inside. Before Morgan had closed the car door, he was hammering on the front door with his curled fist.
Morgan looked at the two officers and rushed up the path to where Ben was shouting through the letter box.
‘You have twenty seconds to get this door open, Vincent, or we’re coming in.’
He listened but there was no noise from inside. He hammered even louder, then crossed to the window and hammered on that. A light came on in the upstairs bedroom window. Morgan nudged Ben, who looked up. He opened the letter box again; no one was coming down the stairs.
‘Twenty, nineteen, eighteen.’ Ben stood up and beckoned to the officer holding the big, red metal battering ram. ‘Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen. Put the door through.’
‘Are you sure? Someone is upstairs; the light came on.’
‘Yes, I’m bloody sure. They must have heard the racket. We don’t know what he’s doing up there. Do it.’
Ben stepped away, Morgan followed. The officer swung his arm back and with an almighty crack the wood around the door handle and lock splintered. He did this a couple more times until the door was in pieces and he was able to put his arm through and open the Yale lock on the inside. The door had come off one of its hinges and wouldn’t open wide. Ben shoved it hard with his shoulder, just enough so they could get into the house. He ran inside shouting, ‘Police.’
The landing light came on, and then he stopped in his tracks to see the grey-haired woman standing at the top of the stairs, her eyes wide with terror.
‘Who are you? What’s that noise?’
Morgan, who was standing behind Ben, heard him whisper, ‘Shit.’
‘It’s the police. We’re looking for Vincent.’
She folded her arms, crossing them over her chest. ‘Christ, what has he done now?’
Ben had glanced at Morgan, hoping she’d take the job of explaining, when they heard an angry voice behind them.
‘What have you done to my door, you arseholes?’ Vincent squeezed himself through the gap and came rushing towards Ben.
‘There’s another missing girl, Vince. Care to tell us where you’ve been? Are you even allowed out this late? Don’t you have licence conditions?’
Vince’s mother came down the stairs. She was glaring at her son with so much disgust he withered in front of them, and he backed down, his anger subsiding.
‘I didn’t do anything, Mum, I swear.’
She reached him, slapped his face hard with the palm of her hand and whispered, ‘You never bloody do. You’ve always been a bad lad. It was only yesterday I told your father you weren’t right in the head.’
Vince glared at his mother. ‘Dad’s been dead twenty-five years, Mother.’
‘We need to search the house.’
She nodded. ‘You can search wherever you want. Don’t forget to search his car.’
Ben couldn’t help the smirk which appeared on his face as he motioned for the officers to search downstairs. He and Morgan went upstairs, his heart in his mouth. If they found Macy Wallace in the bedroom he hadn’t bothered to check earlier, he would be devastated and beyond furious with himself. He almost didn’t want to look, but knew he had little choice. That little girl could be in there. Morgan busied herself searching another bedroom, and he walked towards it, a part of him hoping to find her inside safe and not hurt. The other part was hoping she wasn’t anywhere in this house and never had been, if only to save himself the guilt. He was going to blame himself over Charlie if she was. He pushed open the door, and an overpowering smell of lavender filled his nostrils. The light was on, the double bed was empty, the covers thrown back where Mrs Jackson had clearly hastily left her bed. He let out a heavy sigh, relieved that Vince had been telling the truth earlier: this was his mother’s bedroom. Ben crossed to the bed. Lifting the covers he checked underneath it, then inside the wardrobes and every sp
ace he could find. The room was empty: no missing girl in here.
As he left the room, Morgan was coming out of the bathroom.
‘Anything?’
She shook her head. He looked up to see if there was a hatch which would give access to the loft and spotted one at the far end of the hallway. He pointed to it, ‘We need some ladders.’
‘There’s some in the garage.’
They turned around to see Vince flagged either side by the officers.
‘I didn’t take either of them. Why don’t you believe me?’
‘Because you live smack bang in the middle of the pair of them, and right now you’re as good a suspect as anyone. No one else has recently been let out of prison for liking young girls, do I need to continue?’
Vince shook his head. ‘I’ll go get the ladders.’
‘Go with him. Did you already check the garage?’
‘Not yet.’
All three of them went downstairs. Morgan whispered, ‘She’s not here but we definitely need to check his car.’
Vincent came back carrying a pair of stepladders which he set under the hatch. Ben didn’t want anyone else to do this, just in case.
‘Have you got a torch?’
One of the officers pulled one from his body armour and passed it to him. The ladders groaned under Ben’s weight, but they held as he climbed up them and pushed the piece of wood to one side. Standing on the very top step he poked his head through the hole and shone the torch around; it was empty. There weren’t even any boxes filled with junk up there like everyone else’s attics.
‘I told you.’
‘Where do you keep all your junk?’
‘Until I went to prison, up there. When I was inside she got some house clearance bloke with a white van to come around and dispose of everything.’
‘Why?’
‘She decided she didn’t need any of it. I couldn’t believe it when I came back. I mean there were family photograph albums and boxes of records and stuff from when I was younger. I bet they made a small fortune off it all.’
