‘Really?’ Cummings’ accusing gaze strayed to his. ‘Still fucked you up, though, didn’t it, DI Cain?’
‘This is crazy!’ Mark clenched his fists. ‘You’re way out of order, Cummings, and you know it!’ He was now dangerously close to exploding.
‘Getting a bit irate, DI Cain? Not thinking of getting physical again, are we?’ The perverse pleasure Cummings was taking in this was written all over his face
Mark was close, too close, to taking a swing at him, and the bastard knew it.
‘Back off, DS Cummings,’ Edwards ordered, his expression now one of complete disillusionment as he stared at Mark. ‘We found something in the car, DI Cain,’ he informed him solemnly.
‘Such as?’ Mark asked, his throat dry, his mind racing as he ran through the possibilities, blood being the most likely.
‘One of Daisy’s shoes,’ Cummings provided. ‘How did that get there, Cain? I mean, one would assume you’d never met the girl before she went missing.’
Oh, sweet fucking Jesus, no. The news hit Mark like a thunderclap. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be. Please, God, don’t let this be happening.
‘No doubt the forensics examination will yield more,’ Cummings added.
‘Do you have anything to offer in your defence, DI Cain?’ Edwards asked him, agitatedly. ‘Anything at all that might give me pause for thought before cautioning you?’
Reeling, Mark swiped at the perspiration tickling his forehead. Mel had obviously handed over his computer. Gulping back his nausea, Mark recalled the hatred in her eyes, the way she’d looked at him when she’d believed him capable of manipulating her, drugging her, kerb-crawling, for fuck’s sake. And now this. She wouldn’t alibi him. She couldn’t. He’d been sleeping on the sofa. Panic now tightening his gut like a vice, Mark closed his eyes.
‘You’ve been having a few problems at home, haven’t you, DI Cain?’ Cummings went on matter-of-factly. ‘Arguments, concerning the children? Are they yours, DI Cain? Or was your wife claiming they weren’t so you didn’t try for custody?’
Mark eyed him, completely bewildered.
‘Just wondering,’ he said, shrugging, ‘whether it might explain why your daughter’s gone missing.’
‘Where is she, DI Cain?’ Edwards asked quietly. ‘Where’s Evie?’
‘Jade,’ Mark squeezed the word past the parched lump in his throat, his emotions going into free-fall as he realised where this was leading, ‘I have to find her,’ he said throatily, turning for the door.
‘Jade. This would be the girl who says you raped her?’ said Cummings.
Feeling as if an express train had just slammed into him, Mark stopped dead in his tracks. She was framing him, knocking nails into his coffin, one by one, and he could do nothing? He didn’t have a snowball in hell’s chance of convincing anyone that he’d had no part in any of this. Christ. His baby? His family?
He needed to get out of here. A sluggish pulse beating prophetically at the base of his neck, he continued towards the door.
‘You really are a lowlife piece of scum, aren’t you, Cain?’ Cummings said disgustedly. ‘Spouting your holier than thou crap. Lording it over everyone, hiding your sick perversions—’
‘Enough!’ Edwards cut him short. ‘DI Cain, you might like to take this opportunity to call a solicitor.’
Mark sucked in a breath, knowing what was coming next.
‘Mark Cain, we are legally obliged to inform you that we are arresting you on suspicion of child abduction and offences contrary to the Sexual Offences Act 2003.’ Mark could feel Cummings’ satisfaction as he cautioned him.
‘You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you fail to mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand, DI Cain?’
Mark nodded slowly, his jaw clamped tight. ‘I need to go,’ he rasped, reaching for the door despite knowing he stood no chance of getting through it and out of the station.
Cummings was on him in a second, locking an arm tight around his neck. ‘You’re going nowhere, mate,’ he snarled in his ear.
Two officers bursting through the door to flank him either side, Mark tried to stay upright as Cummings landed a vicious blow to his side.
* * *
Mark stopped struggling as he was manhandled through the main office, the hostile glances of his supposed colleagues telling him all he needed to know. In their eyes, he really was the lowest of the low. His only hope was Lisa, who knew him almost as well as his wife did – or had. Mark prayed harder than he’d ever prayed as he was escorted past where she stood amidst the audience who’d gathered for the show, wilting with relief as he noted her expression. Not open disdain. Confusion, but not repugnance.
Mark didn’t speak. He doubted he could get the words past the fractured pieces of his heart, which were now wedged like shards of glass in his windpipe. He prayed again instead, that Lisa would read the desperation in his eyes.
Lisa nodded. ‘I’m on it, sir,’ she said simply.
Seventy-Three
JADE
Jade had to work at maintaining her façade as she assured the family liaison officer at the door that Melissa was fine, that she was sleeping and that she would be here for her when she woke. A thought had occurred to her: Mark might well have been charged by now, in which case it was possible police would soon be crawling all over the house like flies over dog shit, searching for evidence. Something else was worrying her, too: her conversation with drippy Dylan. She hadn’t been able to properly concentrate, what with the brat peering at her through the crack in the door. He’d said something about taking Angel to his house. He’d also said ‘as well’. What had he meant? God, the man was a liability. If he’d got it into his thick skull to do anything off his own bat, she’d boil his balls and make him eat them.
The officer finally handed her a card and told her she’d call back. Jade smiled sweetly, closed the door calmly and then turned to the stairs spitting with rage.
Everything had been going nicely to plan, albeit an alternative plan, and now she was under pressure. She needed to get this done. She needed to get out of here and get to Dylan, who infuriatingly wasn’t answering his phone, before the moron messed everything up.
Mounting the stairs, her eyes fixed upwards, her mind on the woman who’d stolen her life, Jade didn’t notice the dog until it emitted a low growl behind her. Would the stupid beast not just lie down and die? Seething, Jade carefully back-stepped. And then laughed. The pathetic animal’s attempt at a snarl was more a drool, disgusting creature. She noted the whites of its eyes as the dog’s eyes rolled, the distinctly wobbly legs. ‘Awww, what’s the matter, Hercules? Did the drugs make you feel poorly, hmm? Can’t you make it upstairs? Tough shit!’
Lunging forward, Jade caught hold of the dog by the collar and heaved it through the kitchen to the back door. She might have been impressed by its loyalty, its heroic attempts to dig its claws in, if it hadn’t snapped its head around and bitten her.
Now she was annoyed. Very. Assisting the animal out with a vicious kick, Jade slammed the back door and returned to the stairs, blood popping through the teeth marks on her wrist.
Flinging the bedroom door open, Jade locked eyes with the brat, who immediately scurried closer to her mother, as if the woman was capable of doing anything other than lie slumped on the bed. She was still attempting to keep her eyes open, Jade noted, her fuse fizzling steadily. She was obviously fighting the drugs. Silly bitch. Could she not just get it into her head that it was time to give up? This was her bed. It was her man the slut had been sleeping next to. It was time Melissa learned a few home truths, since she was insisting on being so bloody obstinate.
‘Out!’ Jade glared at Poppy, enough fire in her eyes to let the brat know she meant business. ‘Now, or there’ll be trouble.’ Eyeballing the girl meaningfully, she waited while, sniffling irritatingly, Poppy shuffled off the bed to sidle to the do
or, where she paused to look pleadingly back at her.
Heartbreaking, it really was. Jade smiled nastily, and then tipped her head back, raised her hand and made swallowing goldfish gestures that had the brat scuttling out in a flash.
Turning back, Jade walked across to the bed, her brow furrowed in concern. ‘Oh dear, you haven’t drunk your medicine,’ she said, looking down at the cold tea on the bedside table.
Melissa tried to raise herself.
She was a fighter, Jade conceded wearily, pushing her back down. ‘Not to worry,’ she said, leaning down to peer into Melissa’s pretty green eyes, noting the hugely dilated pupils with satisfaction, ‘you’ve had enough to ensure you sleep soundly. I’d give in to it, if I were you. The alternative might not be very pleasant. Still, on the bright side, at least you won’t have any more nightmares.’
Clearly as stubborn as her brat child, the woman stirred again, attempting to lift her rusty-haired head from the pillow. ‘Mark. Where’s Mark?’ she mumbled, wiping the smile from Jade’s face in an instant.
‘Bitch!’ Jade spat, bringing her hand back to slap the slut’s face hard. ‘He doesn’t want you! Haven’t you seen what’s been going on right under your nose? Stupid cow! It’s me he wants.’ Placing a hand the other side of Melissa, she glared down at her, almost eyeball to eyeball with her. ‘Me he’s been fucking, for months. Right here, in this bed.’
Her chest heaving with anger, Jade jabbed a finger into the pillow right next to the woman’s face. ‘Anywhere and everywhere, and every which way. In the nursery, Poppy’s room, the kitchen, the lounge, even your precious fucking workshop,’ she snarled, making sure to paint a graphic picture for the useless cow to contemplate as she drifted off.
Melissa attempted to focus on her, but couldn’t, finally closing her eyes as the truth sank in.
Satisfied, but not finished, Jade straightened up. ‘He needs a real woman, a proper mother for his kids,’ she went on, driving Melissa’s failures home, ‘not some whingeing, weak, pot-making freak.’
Jade curled her lip in contempt as Melissa made a last valiant attempt to sit up, groping sideways as she did, presumably in search of her phone. Sadly, it was just out of reach. Calmly, Jade nudged it away.
‘Useless.’ She sighed, and then turned away, humming. Hush, little baby, don’t you cry… She headed to the dressing table, extracting a piece of paper from her pocket as she went. It was a nice touch, Jade thought. A goodbye note addressed to Poppy, showing the poor little mite her mother’s last thoughts were with her.
Jade smoothed it out carefully, and then, smiling at her own thoughtfulness, she turned back to help Melissa finish her tea.
Seventy-Four
LISA
Instinct telling her to proceed with caution, Lisa peered through the lounge window. Poppy was standing in the middle of the room, one hand twisting her hair into tight ringlets, her thumb plugged in her mouth. Lisa tapped lightly on the glass. Finally managing to attract the little girl’s attention, she smiled encouragingly and gestured towards the front door.
Peering through the letter flap, Lisa mentally crossed her fingers as Poppy cautiously approached. The girl looked traumatised. She desperately didn’t want to scare her. ‘Hello, Poppet,’ she whispered, hoping to put her at her ease. ‘Where’s Mummy, sweetheart?’
‘Sleeping,’ Poppy said, around the thumb she was still sucking nervously on.
Leaving her daughter wandering around on her own? Whatever shit Mel had been through, however depressed she was supposed to be, the Mel Lisa knew would never do that.
‘I need to see her, Poppy, urgently. Do you understand?’
Poppy nodded. Her eyes were full of trepidation. Picturing her own daughter at that age, feeling how she was feeling, Lisa prayed inwardly. ‘Do you think you could be a big girl, Poppy, and help me?’
Again, Poppy nodded.
‘Good girl,’ Lisa said. ‘I need you to open the door, Poppy. Can you reach it?’
Poppy gave another short nod, before she promptly turned around and scooted towards the kitchen.
Not sure where she’d gone, or whose unwanted attention she might attract, Lisa prayed harder, and then blew out a sigh of relief as Poppy reappeared, dragging a chair slowly but determinedly behind her. ‘I have to do the bolt.’ she said.
Minutes later, Lisa was in, immediately crouching to pull Poppy into a hug. ‘Well done. Daddy will be so proud of you,’ she said, close to her ear. ‘Now, I need you to do something else for me, Poppy.’
Taking her personal mobile from her pocket, Lisa eased back, holding the little girl’s gaze with a reassuring one of her own. ‘I want you to go to the lounge and stay there. If you hear or see anything that worries you, I want you to press nine three times on my phone, and then the green call button. Can you do that?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Poppy’s nod was resolute.
‘Show me where the nine is, honey.’ Lisa held the phone up and Poppy duly pointed.
‘Good girl,’ Lisa said, a wave of relief washing through her. ‘Tell them who you are and don’t end the call until Daddy’s friends get here. Promise?’
‘Promise.’ Poppy crossed her heart.
Hoping to God she would be safer there than wandering about outside on her own, Lisa steered her gently in the direction of the lounge, quickly checked the other downstairs rooms – the kitchen, downstairs cloakroom and study – and then made her way quietly upwards. Poppy’s bedroom door was open; the nursery door too. That room was empty, obviously. Lisa’s heart constricted.
The main bedroom door was closed. Beyond that was Jade’s room, she assumed. The door was ajar, too tempting an invitation for a detective. Praying a floorboard wouldn’t squeak at the crucial moment, Lisa headed that way, aiming to have covered all bases before going into Mel’s bedroom.
Jade’s things were still there, everything neat and tidy. Way too tidy. Lisa noted the lipsticks on the dresser, lined up like soldiers on parade, the bed made up to hospital standards. Bypassing the dresser in favour of the wardrobe, Lisa flicked through the few clothes hanging there; Mel’s mostly, apart from the skimpy babysitting gear the girl was fond of wearing.
Lisa glanced upwards. Seeing a shoebox on the top shelf, she checked over her shoulder and then lifted it quietly out. It was stuffed full of memorabilia – pieces of jewellery, odd bits of make-up, a few old photographs. Lisa wasn’t surprised, until she came across one photograph in particular: a little girl, aged around four. A little girl Lisa wasn’t likely to forget. But she was very much alive in this picture, giggling as she posed with her older sister, a one-eyed Pooh Bear clutched close to her chest.
Lisa dug deeper, finding a stash of what she recognised as antipsychotic drugs. Her blood ran cold.
A sick feeling in her gut, in her soul, Lisa turned, charging towards the main bedroom. Pausing only long enough to register Melissa lying unmoving on the bed, she sprinted across the room, fumbling to call it in as she went. Shaking Melissa with one hand, she’d got as far as telling the police operator they needed to check out the babysitter when an almighty crack to the back of the skull cut her call short.
Seventy-Five
JADE
Maybe those crappy sculptures weren’t so useless, after all. Jade watched fascinatedly as the blood oozed from the copper’s wound, staining the cream carpet a deep crimson. Served her right, interfering cow. Jade had no doubt DI Moyes, with her suspicious eyes, had fancied shagging Mark. She wouldn’t be shagging him now, would she?
Jade gave the hopeless policewoman a prod with her foot and then, satisfied she wouldn’t be causing any more trouble, she turned towards the door. Some women really were complete bitches, happy to hop into bed with a man knowing full well he was already taken.
Time to clean up, she supposed. Get rid of the whole sorry mess.
Seventy-Six
MARK
Mark had had enough of being questioned, cross-questioned and clearly disbelieved. ‘Charge me or let me go,’
he demanded, challenging Edwards as he came back into the interview room.
‘Sit down, DI Cain,’ Edwards said, glancing down at the table, ostensibly to pick up his papers. ‘Your claims will be investigated, along with everything else. Meanwhile, try to stay calm.’
Mark stared incredulously at him. ‘My daughter’s missing!’ he shouted, his anger way off the scale. ‘I’m stuck here, about to be remanded into custody for serious offences I didn’t commit, while I believe my family to be in danger, and you want me to sit down and stay calm?’
Edwards turned to walk back out without uttering another word. Had he despatched anyone to his house yet? Even forensics pulling the place apart would be better than Mel and Poppy there on their own. Was he doing anything? Mark dragged a hand furiously over his neck. Fuck it, he thought, heading towards the door after Edwards, only to find Cummings blocking his way.
‘Move.’ Mark eyed him levelly.
Cummings smiled flatly. ‘You’re under arrest, Cain. You know how this works. You’re going nowhere.’ He grabbed hold of Mark’s arm and attempted to shove him towards the seat. That did it. Blind fury driving him, Mark shoved him, hard.
Caught off guard, Cummings stumbled, crashing heavily to the floor. ‘You prat,’ he growled, heaving himself upright.
Mark clenched his fist at his side, itching to punch the bastard’s lights out as Cummings advanced on him. ‘Don’t,’ he warned him.
‘And who’s going to stop me? You?’ Cummings taunted. ‘Finally lost it, haven’t we, Cain? Knew you would, eventually. Didn’t have to do much other than wait around, did I?’
Mark looked him over, making no attempt to hide the contempt in his eyes. ‘Like falsify evidence, you mean? You’re a fucking disgrace, Cummings.’
The Babysitter: A gripping psychological thriller with edge-of-your-seat suspense Page 29
