by Ben Cheetham
‘Mr Monahan.’
The voice cleared the fug of sleep from his mind. ‘Emily. What is it? Where are you?’ He could hear traffic in the background.
‘I’m in a phone box. I’m not sure where. I snuck out the back of the house.’
‘You need to return there at once.’
‘I don’t want to. I don’t trust those people.’
‘Why?’
‘I…’ Emily’s hesitation told Jim why. It wasn’t her foster carers she didn’t trust. It was everyone, excluding perhaps himself and Anna. Her heartbreakingly hopeful next words confirmed his thoughts. ‘Couldn’t I come and stay with you, Mr Monahan? Just for a few days.’
‘I’m sorry, Emily, that’s not possible.’
‘You can’t force me to go back to that house.’ There was a hitch of tears in her voice.
‘I’m not going to, I promise you,’ Jim said gently. ‘Will you do something for me? Look around. Can you see a street name?’
There was a slight pause, then, ‘Yes. Thackeray’s Lane.’
‘Are there any shops or cafés close by?’
‘There’s a café.’
‘What’s it called?’
Emily told Jim and he added, ‘Right, I’m on my way to you. Wait for me in the café.’
‘OK.’
Jim heard the click of the phone being put down. He phoned one of the constables who were supposed to be watching Emily. ‘We were just about to call you,’ the constable said nervously. ‘Sorry, sir, but the Walsh girl has gone missing.’
‘I know. She’s contacted me.’ Jim told the constable where Emily was. ‘Head over there but keep your distance. Don’t let her see you.’ e headed
‘Yes, sir.’
Jim hauled on his clothes and headed for his car. As he drove back to Nottingham, he kept thinking and trying not to think about what he’d like to do to Gavin Walsh, Thomas Villiers and all the other destroyers of innocence and trust. How easy it would be to wrap his hands around their throats and choke the sickness from them.
He pulled over outside the café. Emily was nursing a Coke in the window. His gaze travelled the street intently. There were plenty of parked vehicles. All of which were empty except for that of the plain-clothes constables. Some people were gathered at a bus top. Gavin wasn’t amongst them. Flashing the constables a ‘stay where you are’ gesture, he approached Emily and sat down opposite her. She avoided his gaze. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Then, still not looking at him, Emily said very quietly, ‘I keep thinking about how it would solve all our problems if someone killed Gavin.’
Jim suddenly felt ashamed for his earlier thoughts. ‘No it wouldn’t.’
She raised her clear young eyes to his jaded ones. ‘But—’
‘Don’t,’ Jim broke in. ‘Don’t say it. Don’t think it. Believe me, Emily, you don’t want those thoughts in your head.’
Emily blinked back to the floor, a knot between her eyes. Jim stood up. ‘Come on,’ he said more lightly. ‘We’re leaving.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘You’ll find out soon enough.’ Seeing the suspicion in Emily’s face, Jim added, ‘Don’t worry, I won’t break my promise.’
They made their way to Jim’s car. As he accelerated away from the kerb, he noted the constables doing likewise in his rear-view mirror. Emily sat nervously in her seat as they skirted southwards around the city centre. They pulled into the car park of a sprawling multi-storey building with a sign that read ‘QUEEN’S MEDICAL CENTRE’ above its main entrance. Looking at him in realisation, she said, ‘Anna?’
Jim nodded and got out of the car. Emily followed him, her movements less hesitant, a different kind of nervousness in her eyes. They caught a lift up to the ward Anna was on. Jim asked a nurse where they could find her and she directed them to a single room. The door to the room was closed. Jim stole a look through its observation window. Anna was in bed. She appeared to be asleep. She was pale, but faint spots of colour showed on her cheekbones. Jim was glad to see she was breathing without the aid of an oxygen mask. Her mother was sitting in an armchair at her side, one hand resting on Anna’s wrist. Someone had obviously seen fit to contact her despite Anna’s wishes. She was staring at a magazine, but her eyes didn’t seem to be seeing the pages. There was a distant look in them.
‘Who’s that with Anna?’ asked Emily.
‘Your grandma. Her name’s Fiona.’ Jim pointed to a seating area by the ward’s entrance. ‘I’ll wait for you there.’
‘Aren’t you coming in with me?’
Jim shook his head. Even if he’d wanted to speak to Anna, this moment wasn’t for him to share in. ‘Just do me one favour. Anna’s going to ask you what happened with Gavin. Don’t tell her. At least, not yet.’
Emily studied her grandmother through the window, searching for something familiar. She found it in the deep blue of her eyes and the slight flare of her upper lip. She took a breath and opened the door. Her grandmother turned to look at her. Emily heard the faint, sharp intake of her breath. The magazine slipped to the floor.
Putting a hand to her chest as though she had a pain there, Fiona rose slowly from the chair. ‘Anna told me about you.’ Her voice was an awed murmur. ‘She told me how much you look like Jessica. But I didn’t… I…’
Like someone sleepwalking, she approached Emily. She stretched out a trembling hand to touch her face, as if to reassure herself she wasn’t seeing things. Then she drew Emily to her and hugged her. Emily squeezed her eyes shut, her shoulders suddenly quaking with tears. ‘Shh,’ soothed Fiona. ‘It’s OK.’
Gradually, Emily’s tears subsided. Keeping her hands on Emily’s shoulders, Fiona pulled back to look at her face. Although she was smiling, there were tears in her eyes too. ‘My granddaughter,’ she said. ‘My beautiful granddaughter Emily.’
A movement from the bed drew Emily’s gaze. Anna’s eyes were open. She was watching her mother and niece. She pushed herself higher on the pillow, smiling through a wince. ‘Hi.’
Fiona turned to her and stated the obvious. ‘Emily’s come to see you.’ There was still a kind of disbelief in her voice.
‘Are you alright?’ asked Emily.
Anna nodded. ‘Because of you. Gavin would’ve killed me if you hadn’t stopped him.’
‘I thought he had killed you.’
With an air of semi-serious bravado, Anna replied, ‘Nah, I’m tougher than I look.’ She gestured towards the wound on her back. ‘It’ll take more than that to finish me off.’
‘Tough has nothing to do with it,’ Fiona put in disapprovingly. ‘You’re lucky to be here.’ Her frown dissolved as she ushered Emily to the chair. ‘Sit down, love. You must be exhausted after what you’ve been through.’
Fiona stood looking at Emily as though she couldn’t take her eyes off her. Emily blinked away from her gaze. ‘I’m sorry,’ said Fiona, seeing her unease. ‘I shouldn’t stare at you like this. It’s just… Here, let me show you something.’ She took a photo out of her handbag and passed it to Emily. It was of a bright-eyed young girl with a freckled, smiling face framed by long blonde hair. Emily swallowed hard. It gave her a strange, almost eerie feeling to look at the photo, as if she was seeing herself in a subtly distorted mirror.
‘That’s Jessica,’ Fiona told her, once again stating the obvious. A slight catch came into her voice. ‘She was the sweetest little girl. She would have made a wonderful mum.’
‘She still might,’ said Anna.
Fiona made an unconvinced sound in her throat. Emily thought of what Gavin had told her about Jessica dying in childbirth. She wondered whether she should tell them. But then she recalled what DCI Monahan had said about Gavin. Men like him were incapable of telling the truth. As impossible as it seemed, maybe Anna was right. The thought was a hopeful torture. She couldn’t bear to look at the photo any more. She made to give it back to her grandmother. Fiona shook her head. ‘You keep it, love. I’ve got plenty of others.’
Emily sli
d the photo into her pocket, careful not to bend it. ‘Thanks…, Grandma.’
Fiona smiled. ‘I never thought I’d hear anyone call me that.’ She looked at Anna. ‘And how does it feel to be an auntie?’
Anna reached to give Emily’s hand a squeeze. ‘It feels nice. Like we’re a proper family again.’
A proper family again. The words were like a warm breeze blowing through Emily, melting the loneliness that had chilled her heart since finding out about the betrayal by the people – she couldn’t bear to call them Grandma and Granddad, even in her mind – who’d pretended to be her parents and concealed who and what her real father was. To her surprise, she found herself smiling too. It was a smile with sadness lurking close behind, but a smile nonetheless. It disappeared when Anna said, ‘So come on, tell me what happened after Gavin left me to die.’
Emily lowered her eyes again, compressing her lips into a tense line. It wasn’t an act. Going through that story with the police had been like reliving a nightmare. The thought of repeating it made her hands sweat.
‘Anna,’ Fiona said in a tone of tender reproach. ‘Can’t you see the poor girl’s been through enough already without having to rehash it all? She’s unharmed and here with us. That’s all that matters.’
Anna shot her mum an incredulous look. ‘How can you say that when Gavin Walsh is still out there?’
‘Because there’s nothing we can do about that.’
Anna opened her mouth as if to argue further, but glancing at Emily’s troubled face, she shut it again without saying anything. A silent moment passed. Stooping to catch Emily’s eyes, Fiona asked, ‘Where are you staying, love?’
‘With foster carers.’
‘Are they nice?’
Emily shrugged. ‘They seem OK.’
‘Did they bring you here?’
‘No. Mr Monahan did.’
‘Oh he did, did he?’ said Anna. ‘And where’s Mr Monahan now?’
‘Waiting in the corridor.’
Anna greeted this news with a bemused shake of her head, but a warning glance from Fiona stopped her from saying anything more.
‘I should go,’ said Emily, but she didn’t move from the seat.
Fiona and Anna exchanged another glance, as though Emily’s words reminded them of something they’d been discussing. Fiona gave a quick nod as if to say, Go on. ‘Before you go, Mum and I have something we want to ask you, Emily,’ said Anna. ‘Would you like to come and live with us in Sheffield? Don’t—’
‘Yes,’ Emily answered before Anna could finish.
‘I was going to say don’t feel like you have to give us an answer straight away,’ Anna said with a little laugh, taken aback by the speed of Emily’s response. ‘There’s no pressure. Take your time. Think it over.’
‘I have thought it over. My answer’s yes.’
‘Well, OK. That’s sorted then.’ Looking at her mum again, Anna saw something in her dark-ringed eyes that hadn’t been there in more years than she wanted to remember: happiness, a barely contained joy at the thought of Emily coming to live with them. It was like finding a glowing ember in a long-dead fire. It made her feel – if only briefly – as though anything was possible.
‘Can I come and live with you today?’ Emily asked her grandmother.
‘I’d like nothing more, love, but I don’t think they’d let you.’ Fiona added to Anna, ‘Would they?’
‘No, I’m afraid they wouldn’t. First, Emily has to be legally declared your grandchild, and you her guardian. And that’s going to take a little time.’ Seeing Emily’s wince of disappointment, Anna continued, ‘I’ll make it happen as fast as possible, Emily. I promise. But in the meantime you’re going to have to stay with your foster carers. Do you think you can do that?’
Emily gave a half-hearted nod.
‘And if you need us, you always know where we are,’ said Fiona. She took both her daughter and granddaughter’s hand in hers. For a moment they formed a circle – a perfect circle of renewed hope. Then Emily stood up and embraced her grandmother once more. Fiona kissed her cheek and reluctantly let her go.
Emily paused by the door, looking back at Anna and Fiona as though she feared she might never see them again.
‘Be strong, Emily,’ said Anna. ‘It won’t be long.’
Emily nodded again, more determinedly, and left the room.
Jim saw what he’d hoped to see in Emily’s eyes – a fresh gleam of resilience. Her voice low but steady, she said, ‘Take me back to my foster carers.’
As they drove, Emily sat calmly, not resigned, but accepting. ‘Promise me, no more sneaking out of the house,’ said Jim.
‘I promise.’ A frown wormed its way across Emily’s face. ‘I can’t imagine what it must be like for Anna and my grandma not knowing what happened to Jessica.’
‘It’s like being lost in a maze with no way out,’ sighed Jim.
‘So you don’t think they’ll ever find out?’
‘Not unless we get lucky.’
‘I do.’ There was a certainty in Emily’s voice that caused Jim to glance at her. Her pale, delicate jaw was clenched. Her eyes were fixed on some unseen object. And he knew there was no point trying to tell her that even if Gavin was caught he undoubtedly wouldn’t give up one of the last things he had control over. She was already in that same maze, wandering in the same endless circles. He heaved another sigh.
The plain-clothes must have phoned ahead, because Emily’s foster carers were waiting at the door for her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said to them. They smiled with understanding. Emily gave Jim a look of thanks, then went into the house.
The return drive to Sheffield seemed to go on for a long time. Jim headed for the city centre and Police HQ. His phone rang. The display showed a mobile number he didn’t recognise. He put the receiver to his ear and a familiar, abrasive voice came down the line. ‘I know what you’re doing, Jim,’ said Anna. ‘I know you’re only trying to protect me. But as I’ve said fuck knows how many times before, you don’t need to. I’m a big girl. I make my own decisions and live with the—’
Jim cut off the call. The phone rang again. The same number flashed up. He knew Anna wouldn’t stop calling until he spoke to her. Never give up, never move on. That was her code. Her purpose. For her there could be no peace until Jessica was found. So for him there could be no peace either. He was willing to put up with that so long as he didn’t find himself in another hospital washing someone else’s blood off his hands.
With as much enthusiasm as a condemned man going to the gallows, he got out of the car and made his way into Police HQ.
24
Jim stared at the blown-up map of the UK as if trying to decipher a riddle. Dozens of coloured pins indicated where active leads were being pursued. Dozens more empty pinholes indicated where other leads had led to nothing. For almost a fortnight now hundreds of officers, sniffer dogs, vehicles, helicopters and even boats had been involved in one of the largest manhunts the country had ever witnessed. Gavin’s description had been circulated to all ports of exit from the country. And a digital mock-up of his middle-aged face had been distributed to the media, leading to a slew of tip-offs and possible sightings. The missing farmer and his Land Rover had been discovered after four days at an isolated spot in the Lake District. The farmer had been bound and stabbed to death. But that was where the trail began and ended. Gavin seemed to have pulled off another of his great disappearing acts.
Garrett’s eyes alternated nervously between Jim and Chief Constable Hunt. The Chief Constable had a deceptive face. When he smiled, his bushy white eyebrows and twinkling eyes made him look like a benevolent grandfather. At such times, it was easy to be misled into thinking he was a soft touch. But in the blink of an eye that twinkle could transform into a glare. When that happened – and it had happened the instant the IPCC officers left – his subordinates knew to keep their mouths shut and weather the storm.
‘This is an extremely delicate situation,’ Chief Constable Hun
t said in his brusque Yorkshire voice, pacing about Jim’s office as though the floor offended him. ‘If we’re not careful, all the work we’ve done to restore the good name of this department will be wiped out.’
Jim tore his eyes from the map. ‘I don’t agree.’ His words induced Garrett to give a little wince.
The Chief Constable treated Jim to a look like a thunderclap. ‘Thomas Villiers is bringing civil proceedings against this department that could cost us hundreds of thousands, if not millions of pounds.’ He thrust a finger at Jim. ‘You’ve destroyed that man. He’s lost his reputation, his job and his family because of your accusations.’
‘Not my accusations,’ Jim stated bluntly. ‘The accusations of the children he helped abuse.’
Chief Constable Hunt shoved his words aside with a backhand swipe. ‘Perhaps you haven’t been keeping up with recent events, DCI Monahan, but none of the supposed victims are talking.’ He pounded his fist into the palm of his hand for emphasis. ‘Not a single bloody one! Add to that the fact that the search and seizure turned up no incriminating evidence and we’re left looking like we’ve victimised an innocent man.’
Jim snorted contemptuously. ‘He’s guilty and everyone knows it.’
‘This isn’t about what people know, or rather think they know,’ retorted the Chief Constable, a vein of anger swelling on his forehead. ‘This is about what can or can’t be proven in a court of fucking law!’
Jim shook his head. ‘That’s what I’m saying. This isn’t simply about the law. It’s about perception. If we back off from Villiers, we’ll be perceived as weak and corrupt. Then no one will ever trust us enough to speak out against him.’
Chief Constable Hunt glanced sidelong at Garrett as if to say, Can you believe this bloke? ‘OK, DCI Monahan, let me tell you how I perceive things to be. You leaked information about an investigation you were leading. The IPCC are ready to bring disciplinary proceedings against you. They believe you should be dismissed for gross misconduct. And I’m inclined to agree with them. However, there is a way out of this mess. A way you can save yourself and this department a lot of trouble and money.’ The Chief Constable paused a breath to let his words sink in before continuing, ‘Thomas Villiers has said he’s willing to drop the civil case and withdraw his complaint if you make a full public apology for harassing him.’
