Stolen

by Rebecca Muddiman

  Chapter Seventy-Six

  Simon drove towards the beach, his heart hammering in his chest. He hadn’t realised it was raining until he’d been driving for a few minutes but as he pulled up and looked out over the sea he couldn’t ignore the rain anymore. It thundered down onto the roof of the car and he closed his eyes trying to use the sound to blank out his thoughts.

  He sat with his head against the window, listening to the rain. Paul was Abby’s ex. Her responsibility. How could she not have realised something was wrong?

  Opening his eyes, Simon wiped at the steamed-up window. The rain was coming down hard and he realised he’d been crying. He should go back and talk to Abby, talk to Gardner like a grown up, find out where Paul was and bring Beth back. It hurt him to think it was someone so close who’d taken their daughter, God only knew how Abby felt. But it was another step forward. He had to think of it that way. Another step closer to getting Beth back. And Paul would be punished for what he did. He’d go to prison.

  Simon slammed his hand against the steering wheel. He didn’t want him to go to prison. He wanted to hurt him. Make Paul feel everything that he’d felt, that Abby had felt, over the past five years. He felt his throat close up, choked with tears, and punched the wheel again and again. He just wanted to hurt Paul. For Beth, for Abby, for himself.

  He wished he’d brought his cigarettes; he could really do with one. Or ten. He went to put the car in reverse when his phone rang. Jen.

  ‘Why were you at Paul’s?’ he said before she could speak.

  ‘How did you know?’ Jen said.

  ‘Just tell me. Why were you there?’

  ‘I needed to see him,’ she said. ‘I wanted to prove to Abby I wasn’t lying about seeing him hanging around.’

  Simon sighed. What had he been expecting her to say? That she’d been in on it all along? That she was going to warn him they were onto him?

  ‘And alright, I wanted to see him about this website he’s got too - which I know is selfish of me but he might be able to help me,’ she said. ‘But I did want to prove it to Abby. I know she’s angry with me. But he wouldn’t talk to me.’

  ‘He’s there? Now?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Why? What’s going on?’

  ‘I need the address,’ Simon said. He scribbled it down on an old parking ticket and hung up before Jen could ask any more questions. The address was less than thirty minutes from where he was. In half an hour he’d have his hands on Paul Henshaw.

  The tyres screeched as he pulled away.

  Chapter Seventy-Seven

  Gardner was on the way to Paul Henshaw’s when the call came.

  They’d found her.

  He pulled over to the side of the road and closed his eyes, feeling his heart sink, wishing he could be there. ‘Where?’ he asked.

  ‘At Louise Cotton’s house,’ Harrington told him.

  Gardner opened his eyes. ‘Jill Hoffman’s mate?’ He could feel Lawton’s eyes on him.

  ‘Yes. She-’

  ‘Is she..?’ Gardner asked, gripping the steering wheel. ‘Is she alive?’

  ‘Yes. She’s alive. She was in the loft. She seems fine but she’s been taken to the hospital to get checked over.’

  Gardner let go of the breath he’d been holding in. She was alive. He let out a little laugh and felt relief wash over him. He turned to Lawton.

  ‘Chelsea Davies. She’s alive,’ he said and Lawton smiled.

  Of course it wasn’t over yet. The investigation was really just beginning but the girl, the girl was safe. At least there was that.

  Gardner took some more details and asked Harrington to keep him informed. He leant forward, resting his head on the steering wheel.

  ‘Her friend had her?’ Lawton said. ‘Was her mother involved?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he sighed. ‘Maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time.’

  ‘Why now? We searched Cotton’s house. We searched everywhere.’

  ‘Harrington said police saw her entering the property but she refused to answer the door, which aroused suspicion. She got Chelsea to climb into the loft, pretending to play hide and seek. When they found her, Cotton swore that Chelsea had just turned up and she was about to call the police. Maybe she was partly telling the truth, she could’ve just moved her from somewhere else. I don’t know,’ he said, rubbing his eyes.

  Lawton shook her head. ‘I should’ve seen it. I spent more time with them than anyone.’

  Gardner turned to her. ‘No one saw it, Dawn. You can’t blame yourself.’

  Lawton stared out of the window. ‘But-’

  ‘Look where we’re going now. I had no idea Paul Henshaw was involved. Not a fucking clue.’ He sighed. Maybe the papers were right about him.

  Lawton wiped her nose. ‘Should I get back there? I’m the liaison.’

  Gardner looked at his watch. Lawton was right. She should be there. But they were halfway to Paul Henshaw’s and he wanted more than anything to have him in custody. He started the car and pulled away.

  ‘We’ll get Henshaw first. It won’t take long.’

  Chapter Seventy-Eight

  Simon drowned out the voice of the sat-nav directing him to the address he’d been given, instead thinking about the first time he had seen Beth. She had been nineteen days old. It had been torture waiting that long but he’d made an agreement with Abby and he had to abide by it. It was no surprise that Paul stuck to Abby and Beth like glue for those first few weeks. He would’ve too, given half the chance. But each hour that passed when he didn’t see his little girl was agony. He wondered what little landmarks would’ve happened in the time before he’d even clapped eyes on her. Abby called him a couple of times, teary and overjoyed, and she sent a picture to his mobile but the image was blurry; it could never do his girl justice. Phone calls and pictures were fine, but not what he really wanted. Not the real thing.

  Eventually Abby called and said he could see her. Paul had gone to meet someone, a business thing that couldn’t be avoided, and would be gone all day. When he’d come off the phone he’d panicked. He was going to see his daughter. He’d spent an inordinate amount of time choosing something to wear and then picking a gift to take from the mountain of toys he’d been stockpiling in the spare room for months. He’d finally chosen a soft pink toy that was either a cow or a dog; it was kind of hard to tell. When he was finally ready, he’d gone to Abby’s house and knocked at the door.

  It was the first time he’d ever been inside her house. They’d always met at his place or somewhere neutral. It felt wrong to be there but when Abby led him through to the living room and he peered down into the bassinet at his beautiful little girl, he forgot about all that. Nothing else mattered in that moment. He didn’t care if Paul came home and saw him. Then as if she had sensed he was there, Beth woke and Abby picked her up. Settling himself on the settee, he reached out for Beth and as he held her in his arms for the first time, he cried. He cried at the simple joy of Beth; at the thought of him being a father; at the way Abby looked at him and their daughter; and at the foolish decision he’d made to let them go.

  If only he had spoken up back then. If only he had never let her go then none of this would have ever happened. He and Abby and Beth would still be together; a family.

  As he got further and further off the main roads, his speed increased. He’d probably be stopped by the police before he could get to Paul. He’d miss his chance.

  The mix of anger and excitement he’d felt earlier was beginning to wane. Why hadn’t he told Abby or Gardner he’d got the address?

  Because they’d stop you. Because you wouldn’t get your chance to hurt him.

  Chapter Seventy-Nine

  Abby paced up and down trying Simon’s phone over and over. Where was he? Maybe he needed time alone to process what they�
��d heard about Paul. But how much processing did he need to do? It was her ex-husband. Surely she should be the one having trouble with it.

  Maybe that was it. It was her ex-husband. But how could Simon blame her?

  Easily, she thought. Easily. Because she blamed him when she found out he’d talked to Helen Deal about Beth. That was the first thing that came to mind. This was your fault.

  Only it wasn’t.

  She collapsed onto the settee and tried his phone again. It kept on ringing but there was no answer. She hung up and held the phone to her chest. She could try Gardner. She didn’t even know where he was going so couldn’t be sure if he’d be there yet. She hadn’t thought to ask where Paul was. She blinked away the tears. He promised to call when he got there. He couldn’t be there yet.

  She stopped pacing and closed her eyes. Why had Jen been looking for Paul? She tried Jen’s number.

  ‘Hello?’ Jen said.

  ‘Why were you looking for Paul?’ Abby said.

  Jen sighed. ‘I already told Simon. I was trying to prove to you that he was there. That I wasn’t lying to you.’

  ‘You’ve spoken to Simon?’ Abby asked, her stomach tightening. ‘What did you tell him?’

  ‘Just what I told you .’

  Abby felt sick. ‘Did you tell him where Paul was?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jen said. ‘Why? What’s going on?’

  ‘I have to go,’ Abby said and cut Jen off. Simon knew where Paul was. He was probably headed there now. What was he going to do to him? What would she do?

  She called Gardner. ‘Simon knows where Paul is,’ she said.

  ‘Shit,’ Gardner said. ‘I’ve got a local going over there. Don’t worry,’ he said but Abby wasn’t convinced. ‘Is someone there with you?’

  ‘He’s outside,’ Abby said.

  Gardner sighed. ‘Okay. I’ll keep you posted.’ He disconnected and Abby threw the phone down.

  She was angry at him for leaving her there, for not letting her go with him. She knew she couldn’t go. It was a police investigation; of course she couldn’t go and start asking her own questions. But she was angry with him for leaving her there alone with her thoughts. She’d allowed herself to think there’d been a mistake, that the nanny was either being malicious or just simply wrong. But now she was alone she couldn’t help but dig deeper and everything she thought she knew seemed tainted. Every memory she dredged up of Paul, of the things they did, the life they shared, it all seemed wrong.

  Thoughts of the day it happened, of the days that followed, of the weeks leading up to it, they all took on new meaning. Everything she believed was wrong. Her husband had betrayed her. She knew it. She just knew it. The nanny wasn’t wrong, she wasn’t being malicious. It was him. It had been him all along.

  Chapter Eighty

  Gardner drove through the little village and wondered why anyone would want to live out in the middle of nowhere. It was like a setting for a horror movie, all eerily quiet and deserted. But then if you were trying to hide it was probably ideal.

  ‘You think Abbott’s already here?’ Lawton asked, glancing around the tree-lined road.

  ‘I hope not,’ Gardner said. Simon Abbott had a temper, a history of violence. He’d kicked the shit out of guys before over a comment about his girlfriend. Who knew what he’d do to Paul Henshaw? Gardner turned into the narrow lane where Henshaw lived. Maybe Abbott had every right to hurt him. For what he’d done to Abby, he deserved it.

  He noticed the police car outside the house he’d been told was rented by Paul Henshaw. Simon’s car was parked at an angle a few metres away.

  He ran from the car, Lawton a few feet behind him. As he made his way up the path he saw the door was wide open, splinters of wood scattered across the kitchen floor. He stopped as he approached the officer, giving him a confused look and then he saw Simon sitting on the kitchen floor, his head hanging, blood on his hands and shirt. Gardner looked over his shoulder at the officer who just stood there saying nothing. He looked about seventeen.

  Gardner looked back at Simon and it was only then he noticed Paul Henshaw, lying on his back on the kitchen floor, blood pooled around his body. His eyes were open, staring blankly at the ceiling.

  When he could tear his eyes away from the body he looked back at Simon who didn’t appear to notice he was even there. He bent down beside him and saw the cuffs around Simon’s wrists.

  Chapter Eighty-One

  ‘Oh my God,’ Lawton said, turning to go outside.

  ‘What the hell happened here?’ Gardner asked, looking at the young officer standing by the door. He stood gawping at Paul’s body, unable to turn his eyes away.

  ‘Who are you?’

  Gardner turned around and saw an older officer coming into the kitchen. He looked like he was ready to draw a weapon, if only he had one.

  ‘DI Gardner,’ he said and the older man relaxed slightly and walked around the edge of the kitchen, being careful not to go too near the body.

  ‘PC Ernie Fletcher,’ he said. ‘We arrived approximately fifteen minutes ago. Door had been forced open. Found the body and this one sitting here, staring at it.’

  Gardner looked at Simon, who hadn’t moved a muscle the whole time. He was still staring into space.

  ‘He was crouched over the body,’ Fletcher said. ‘I restrained him and checked the rest of the property.’ He looked at Gardner like he wanted a pat on the back. ‘It’s empty,’ he said to finish.

  Gardner put his hands on his head and looked at the ceiling. This couldn’t be happening. It could not be happening. ‘Have you called this in?’ he asked Fletcher.

  ‘They’re on their way,’ Fletcher said. He stepped closer to Gardner and bent to pull Simon up by the arm.

  ‘What’re you doing?’ Gardner asked.

  ‘He’s a suspect in a murder investigation,’ Fletcher said. ‘Get up.’

  The movement seemed to shake Simon free of the trance he was in and he allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. For the first time he looked at Gardner, his face lined with panic.

  Gardner wanted to go after them but he knew he could do little for Simon now. He was found at a murder scene and they were going to take him in regardless. He could follow them to the station and request to speak to Simon but it would be down to the locals to decide in the end.

  He looked down at Paul’s body and quickly turned away, walking to the door for some air, ignoring the look the young officer gave him. Hopefully Fletcher was right and the techs were on their way. Until then all he could do was wait.

  He knew he had to tell Abby what had happened but it wasn’t something he was going to do by phone. Besides, what was he going to say? It would be hard enough telling her Paul was dead. But that Simon was chief suspect too? He could tell her things would be okay, that he’d work it out, that he’d get Simon home to her. But he didn’t know if he could do that. Because he had no idea if Simon was innocent.

  Chapter Eighty-Two

  Gardner sat in his car waiting for the cavalry to arrive. Lawton sat beside him. He couldn’t decide if she was silent out of respect or if she was too caught up in her own thoughts. What happened with Chelsea Davies hit her hard. She blamed herself and she wanted to be there. Instead he’d made her come out here. Dragged her into another mess.

  He could see Simon sitting in the back of Fletcher’s car, while Fletcher leaned against the door as if he was waiting for the RAC to turn up. Gardner stared at his phone. He was surprised Abby hadn’t tried to call him already, desperate to know what was happening, whether Paul was really involved, or to tell him Simon still hadn’t returned home. Maybe she was still pissed off with him for not letting her come along but if he was glad of anything it was that he’d stood firm on that. Having Abby with him when he walked into this shit-storm was the last thing he needed.r />
  He turned the phone over in his hands. He wasn’t going to call her, wasn’t going to show that little respect for her by telling her like that. It had to be done face to face.

  ‘They’re here,’ Lawton said.

  Gardner looked in his rear-view mirror and turned around. Three cars were pulling up in a line behind Fletcher’s car and the man himself was holding out his arm, flagging them down as if they wouldn’t know what they were looking for. He watched four men climb out of their cars and head towards Fletcher. Two of them ducked their heads and looked at Simon in the back of the car.

  He saw Fletcher point towards his car and one of the men, dressed like a lawyer in an expensive looking suit, looked over. The other three headed back to the cars. He guessed they were the SOCOs and hopefully the pathologist.

  Gardner got out of the car and walked to meet the man coming towards him, the one dressed like a lawyer. He stuck out his hand. ‘DS Carlisle,’ he said and shook Gardner’s hand.

  ‘DI Gardner,’ he said. ‘Fletcher fill you in?’

  Carlisle gave him a smile. ‘He gave me the highlights but I’d like to hear it from you,’ he said.

  They walked towards the house. The young officer at the door moved out of their way without a word. Gardner wanted to ask him if he’d actually had any training in scene preservation but as he’d already trampled through the scene himself he couldn’t really point fingers. They stood in the doorway so that Carlisle could take a look at the scene. A couple of seconds later he nodded and walked back towards Gardner’s car to make room for the SOCOs.

  ‘So, I’m guessing this isn’t just a nice and simple domestic or B&E,’ Carlisle said.