The Silent Ones: Could You Leave A Child Behind? (Chrissy Livingstone Book 3)

by Linda Coles

  “What are we going to do?” Julie asked.

  “Find out what’s in those boxes that is so important they can only be moved in the middle of the night.”

  Wednesday

  Chapter 35

  Julie had eventually gone back to bed and, with her eye mask firmly in place, hadn’t stirred as Richard slipped into his robe. He glanced down at her. Experience had taught him that sleeping dogs should be left to lie and so he crept out and headed for the kitchen, silently. Adam was sitting with his own mug, flicking through Julie’s discarded gossip magazine as Chrissy fastened her boots in the doorway. She hadn’t gone back to bed after the night’s activities but had chosen instead to have another mug of hot chocolate and to watch the sun rise on the horizon, wrapped in a woollen throw. At 7 am, she’d headed for the shower and was now ready to go and give her prints to the Gardai. A job she wanted to do alone.

  “Why would anyone want to read this utter rubbish?” Adam asked as he tossed the magazine to one side. “Who cares who’s dating who, or who’s looking paunchy around their middle? Really?”

  Chrissy smiled at the sudden outburst and caught his eye.

  “I’ve been saying that for years,” Richard piped up as he entered the room fully. He’d obviously heard Adam’s words and agreed with them. “Maybe it’s a woman thing?” he asked Chrissy, raising a greying eyebrow at her.

  “Don’t look at me. A waste of good money, not to mention my time.”

  The men had obviously slept through peacefully since neither raised the subject of a midnight adventure.

  “Where are you off so early?” Richard asked. “You’re not dressed for a run.”

  “Giving my prints in then I’ll be back,” she said cheerily, blowing a quick kiss over her shoulder and heading out. “See you later.” Richard, Adam, and Rupert were left staring after her.

  It was only a fifteen-minute drive to the local Garda station at Ennistymon and she parked her hire car easily in the small car park. The building would have looked like a small hotel were it not for the Victorian-style blue Garda lamp stood proudly out front. She wondered again about if they had a vending machine or still used the kettle. Heading inside, she made herself known to the officer on the desk and asked if Officer Harris or Sergeant Staines were in yet. She’d come down early to give her prints.

  “Garda Harris is in, yes,” he said. “I’ll let him know you’re here.” The inside of the station looked like any other, clean and functional. They were never meant to be welcoming, not like a hotel reception, though if you were staying overnight in a cell, you wouldn’t be using the main entrance anyway. She sat down to wait and glanced around the walls for something to occupy her mind in the meantime. Various posters and information leaflets begged her to read them up close, but she stayed where she was and scanned the headlines she could from her spot. Driving drunk or drugged was to be avoided. Another urged people to call the confidential crime line and help put the bad guys away. She thought back to her early morning adventures at the castle and the suspicious movements of one barman, in two locations. A male voice broke into her thoughts. It was Drew Harris. His thinning hair wafted about in exactly the same manner as when she’d spoken to him yesterday morning. It needed some gel to tame it. Was it only that long ago she’d seen him? The kindness in his eyes was ever-present.

  “Thanks for coming in. This won’t take long,” he said, smiling, and Chrissy stood to follow him.

  “How’s the investigation going?” she asked nonchalantly. “Have you managed to locate the little one’s parents yet?”

  “I’m afraid not.”

  He wasn’t for giving much away. She tried a different tack. “Don’t you have number-plate recognition cameras in Ireland?”

  “We do, indeed. Plenty in fact.”

  It was like pulling teeth. Obviously, the cameras hadn’t shown anything. “Were they in their own car? Or since they were on holiday, maybe a hire car?” Harris let the question linger without answering. Chrissy carried on. “Poor Flynn, I bet he’s missing his mum and dad. I hope he’s all right. Do you know where he is?”

  “He’ll be well looked after in a foster home by now,” he said, holding a door open for her. Once they were inside another nondescript room, he explained the procedure to her. There was no ink, it was all done by scanner these days. She placed her hand palm down on the glass and it did its thing. It would take both finger and palm prints; both were collected as a matter of course. Realising he wasn’t going to tell her anything about the case, she changed the subject. “What happens when it’s done its scan?”

  “It does a number of things. If I was printing you under arrest, it would bring results back in just a few minutes. So now might be a good time to mention if you’ve committed any crimes,” he said, laughing at his own joke. He’d used the line before. Chrissy wanted to wince but stayed straight-faced while the other hand was scanned. “We only need your prints for elimination, so I’m not expecting anything to pop up,” he added. When both were completed, she gave her contact details once again and was about ready to leave. Maybe her prints weren’t in the system after all. Harris paused for a moment then turned and looked her square in the eye.

  “Let me guess: I can see your prints and a file I can’t access, so I’m assuming by the questions you’ve been asking that you have an interest?”

  “Ah, yes. Though I’m a Private Investigator now.” She tried not to look sheepish.

  “And on holiday, I gather?”

  “What can I say? If there’s a case needs my help…” She shrugged as if that explained everything.

  “Then don’t go getting in the way or do something stupid with this one. Are we clear?”

  “I may be able to help, if you’ll let me.”

  “Let me suggest you leave this one to the Guards. We’ll find the boy’s parents, I’m sure.” His kind eyes had taken on a different persona, there was a warning tone in them.

  “I get the message. But can I ask you don’t mention this, my print results, to anyone in my family.”

  “You can be assured of my discretion,” he said, almost bowing.

  With nothing left to say and nothing left to find out, Chrissy kept her newly found barman knowledge to herself. Young Flynn was being looked after safely, his parents on the run. If the local Guards didn’t want her help, that wasn’t going to stop her finding the truth.

  Chapter 36

  Sergeant Staines pursed his thin lips as he watched from the staffroom as Chrissy got back into her car. Part of being an officer of the law was working with your gut as well as facts and data, and one thing he’d picked up while they’d interviewed the woman and her husband at the holiday home was a certain vibe. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he’d gone back to the station and done a little digging of his own. It seemed Chrissy Livingstone wasn’t all that she pretended to be. She had a past, a closed file, and that meant one of a couple of things.

  It was a shame what had happened to the child, to be left abandoned. That wasn’t what was meant to have happened. They had people in place to prevent that type of error, and now the boy was in the system and it would be almost impossible for them to get him out. There were often casualties, somebody invariably got hurt; it was often dangerous, but never the children. They often ended up being a pawn in a game and it sickened him. At least the boy would be looked after and they’d figure out how to get him back sometime in the future. Staines joined his colleague, Drew Harris, and made polite conversation, all the time wheedling his way around to what he really wanted to know.

  “Was that the Livingstone woman I saw leaving?” he said nonchalantly.

  “Yes, Chrissy Livingstone. Seems she has a past.”

  “Oh?”

  “Her prints are on file, a closed file,” he said.

  “Did she have much to say?”

  “She had plenty of questions, but I told her to keep her nose out. The last thing we need is someone sticking their beak in like Miss Marple.
I’ve told her to be on holiday and keep out of the investigation. Best to leave it to the Guards; we’ll see if she does.”

  Staines grunted his approval and carried on his way, satisfied that his colleague hadn’t said anything to the woman. He didn’t need anything else going wrong. He placed coins in the vending machine and waited for his Twix to drop into the tray below.

  Chapter 37

  By the time Chrissy arrived back at the house, Julie had surfaced and was making fresh coffee in the kitchen, looking as composed and well put together as ever. Since their impromptu trip to France a couple of months back, Chrissy now appreciated that her sister was a naturally beautiful woman and a genius when it came to speedily applying make-up and doing her hair just so. There wasn’t the sign of a bag under either of her eyes. Chrissy, on the other hand, was content with a daily flick of mascara, a pencil through her brows, and lip gloss, unless the occasion required more. This morning, though, she could have used some concealer. Her bags resembled the holdall she’d brought with her.

  “Perfect timing,” Julie said, turning as Chrissy entered through the back door. She busied herself pouring a mug and added warm milk to the top before handing it over. She noted Chrissy’s clean fingers. “Where’s the ink?”

  “All done by scanning now.” She took off her jacket and hung it up on a corner of the table as she flopped down. Julie frowned and hung it properly by the door.

  “Where are the men?”

  “In the living room, reading. I swear it’s like having our own library; I’ve never known either of them to be so absorbed in the written word.” Chrissy smiled at her description – couldn’t she just say book or paper? Julie joined her at the table and huddled in close. “So, did you glean anything from your visit?”

  “Not a sausage, actually. Officer Harris gave nothing away and all but warned me off looking into it. Like I’m really going to do that!”

  “Hmm. That doesn’t help then, does it. That’s like putting a word down on the Scrabble board that doesn’t allow for any further expansion.” Chrissy inwardly smiled at her sister’s metaphor, though she was correct. “And just as annoying actually.” The two sat silently sipping before Julie said, “Oh, I almost forgot. I went up to the shop to get Richard a paper, and guess what?”

  “Go on.”

  “Remember the woman from the sweater shop? She had a nasty car accident the night Ciara and Lorcan vanished and is in hospital. Broken leg and wrist, so she’ll not be at the shop for a while I don’t expect.”

  “Poor thing. I don’t suppose she will be. That might explain why we saw Mr Curly Blond Barman coming out of the shop last night then. Perhaps he’s helping out somehow. They might even be related. A small village like Doolin? I’d bet everyone knows everyone else. And their business.”

  “Maybe, but I can’t see how that would explain his early hours castle visit, with boxes. Can you?”

  “Permission to store stock now it’s empty? Maybe temporarily?” Chrissy was clutching for a reason. “I guess it’s possible, though unlikely, I’d say. That cellar was cold and damp, not the place for storing clothing.”

  “Have we still got the key?”

  “Rupert has, yes. Where is he by the way?”

  “In the library.”

  Chrissy knew exactly what her sister was referring to. “What are you thinking, going back inside for another look?”

  “It’s the only way we’ll find out, assuming of course those boxes are in the cellar since there were a stack of them in the van. We’d have to expect the same contents in both?” Chrissy glanced at the cooker clock; she was supposed to be going on a picnic walk to Hags Head with Adam. Had she time to slip out and back beforehand? Julie read her mind.

  “If you go now, no one would be any the wiser you’ve even come home from the Gardai yet.”

  “I’ll need the key.”

  “I’ll go and get it.”

  While Julie nipped to the other room, Chrissy noticed the folded newspaper and speed read the article on the accident. It appeared to be perfect driving conditions and no other vehicle was involved. The Guards were scratching their heads as to what had happened, and the reporter suggested perhaps the driver had been distracted. At 7 pm, it was unlikely she’d fallen asleep at the wheel. An accompanying photograph showed quite how crumpled the car had finished up. She’d been lucky to survive and end up with only moderate injuries. The Guards were appealing for any witnesses to come forward. On that stretch of road, they’d be lucky. Julie returned with the key.

  “I don’t think they even noticed I was in the room,” she said.

  Chrissy took the key. “I’ll be back soon.”

  At that moment, Adam walked in. “I thought I could hear voices. Are you ready to go? I’ve made us a picnic,” he said, bending to retrieve a couple of plastic boxes from the fridge. Before she could answer, Julie filled the space. Standing up, she said, “You lovebirds have a lovely morning and I’ll slip out for a gentle walk myself,” slipping the key from Chrissy’s hand as she spoke. “Then we can all go and enjoy Father Ted’s for afternoon tea. I’ve booked a table for 3.30 pm so there’s plenty of time.”

  It made perfect sense, though Chrissy would have preferred to be the one snooping. What if someone came back? All she could do was show her concern by contorting her face while Adam was standing behind her.

  “I’ll get my boots on,” she said resignedly as Adam placed their picnic in his backpack.

  “I’ll see if we can borrow Richard’s binoculars to take with us,” he said, leaving the room, unaware of the silent discussion the two women were having behind him.

  When he was out of earshot, Chrissy said, “Just be careful. Text me what you find out.”

  “I’ll be fine. If I can run boutique shoe shops, I’m sure I can check the contents of a box or two. I’m a grown woman, as are you.”

  She had a point, but still Chrissy would have preferred it to be herself going in. At any sign of trouble, Julie would likely fall over and faint. Adam returned with the binoculars dangling from his neck.

  “All set?”

  “All set.”

  Chapter 38

  Once the pair had left for their cliff walk, Julie sat for a moment or two until they’d driven well away. It would have been just like Chrissy to have changed her mind and found some excuse to stay behind, but after a good ten minutes, Julie was content that they were staying away. Now all she had to do was explain to Richard why she wanted to do something so out of the ordinary for her: go for a walk by herself – for no apparent reason. Unless there was something at the end of it like a morning paper, she could count on one hand how many times in their marriage she’d done so. She popped her head around the living room door and watched for a moment or two as he sat, head bent, glasses on, totally engrossed in what he was reading. The hardback in his hands must have already been in the house since it wasn’t something she recognised from home. The books on their shelves were purely for show. He turned the page slowly, unaware of her presence until she spoke.

  “Would you mind if I went out for a walk myself? Only I’d hate to leave you on your own if you’re going to be bored, hence my question.”

  Richard looked up and refocused his eyes as he removed his glasses and smiled. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it.

  “You go, I’m happy here reading,” he said, showing her the front cover. There was a tear in the jacket; it was an ageing Agatha Christie book. How apt, she thought, given what she was about to do. Equally surprised at him not being surprised, she replied, “I won’t be too long,” and headed back to get her jacket and boots. Rupert trotted towards her, expectant.

  “Come on then,” she said as she clipped his leash on and opened the back door. She felt like Anne, one of Enid Blyton’s Famous Five, along with Timmy the dog, as she set out on an adventure all her own. Chrissy could have been the other female of the crew, Georgina, or George, as she’d preferred to be called, a bit of a tomboy. A rush of cold sea
air hit her square in the face, and she pulled her hood up to keep the wind out of her ears.

  The journey across the fields was somewhat easier than it had been only a few hours ago in the pitch-black night, and with jeans covering her legs, she was a good deal warmer than she’d been when she was wearing her nightdress. It had taken her ages to defrost once they’d got back to the house and she’d lain in bed trying not to shiver and wake Richard. Thank goodness for the couple of pints of Guinness he’d drunk in the pub, and the same for Adam. They’d not heard a sound as the two women had returned and made hot chocolate while chatting in the kitchen.

  Gulls and other equally noisy seabirds gathered overhead and they squawked and squabbled as they flew, some heading to the sheer, slate cliff face, others in search of food and whatever else birds did with their time each day. Rupert strolled easily alongside her and she chatted to the dog as if he were a human. No answers to her questions were required.

  All was quiet as she approached the stone perimeter wall again, the bright blue sky all around making the property look all the more like a picture postcard. She wondered whether many couples had been married out by the castle, the photos with the backdrop of the ocean would be dramatic to say the least. There were no vehicles present. She checked over her shoulder as she neared the door and slipped the key in the lock. If anyone was inside, they’d have gone on foot as she had, though she wasn’t expecting to see anyone sitting at the kitchen table or asleep on the sofa. Entering, she was relieved to see the kitchen was empty, naturally, and she breathed a sigh of relief and closed the door. Rupert had opted to stay outdoors and inspect the grass instead. The room felt eerily quiet and unlived in, and even with the sun shining outside, it was cold. Having never been inside the castle before, she was tempted to climb the stairs and look at the view she knew she’d find at the top, but that would have to wait. What she’d set out to do came first. The rug lay neatly across the floor and she pushed it to one side. Last night’s visitor must have put everything back in place before he took off. She lifted the trapdoor and peered into the darkness, letting her eyes adjust. Chrissy had mentioned the overhead light and she felt around blindly until she found the smooth plastic plate with the switch. Bright light illuminated the space and she was glad she’d remembered to close the front door in case anyone noticed it. She picked her way slowly down the steps towards a pile of boxes stacked neatly two-high in the centre of the room. There was nothing written on them, they were just plain brown cardboard. She reached up at one randomly and nudged it lightly to see if it moved. While it wasn’t particularly heavy, there was definitely something inside. She picked it up and rested it on the floor beside her before picking carefully at the tape to open it. She hadn’t thought about that aspect, that whoever they belonged to would realise someone had looked inside, but it was too late now. Why hadn’t they simply tucked the flaps in to secure the top? That would have been more convenient for her and her nails. As carefully as she could she pulled the brown tape back and tentatively opened the lid.