Broken Angel

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Broken Angel Page 3

by Diane M Dickson


  There was a tingle of foreboding in Charlie’s gut, but he nodded and smiled.

  They tried to persuade him to have a friend come and stay but he wouldn’t agree, insisting that he wanted to be on his own. Sue had brought the tea and toast through and, though he managed a half slice, all he wanted was the drink.

  “We’ll be in touch, Steve, we’ll keep you informed. Try not to worry too much. There could still be a simple explanation. It could be that she just needed some time, you know?”

  They could tell by his expression that he didn’t believe them but there was no more comfort they could offer.

  Chapter 6

  “Okay, we’ve got an incident room. They’re setting that up right now. I’ve had them generate the operational name. Kate’s going to be assigned and a couple of extra bods, not enough, but a team at least. Paul Harris, Dan Price. I haven’t worked with them, have you?” Charlie asked.

  Sue was gathering the reports together, she shook her head. “I know Kate quite well, but no, not the others. It’s a bit of a bind isn’t it, it takes longer to work together when it’s a new team. Can’t be helped I suppose, sickness, leave and stuff. It’ll be okay though.”

  Charlie shrugged and pulled a face. “Posters will be ready in the next couple of hours. We’ll put them at the service areas where she went missing and the ones before and after. We’re trying for a press conference, but we need to get Steven Blakely on board for that, always better with a partner. What have I forgotten?”

  Sue shook her head. She knew how important this was to him, “It’s moving on, you’ve got it sorted. Are they doing a search around the place she disappeared?”

  “Yes, some uniforms are out now, not as many as we’d like but we have to manage. They’re around the services, up and down the motorway on the northbound side. Not much point spreading them too thinly, looking at the other side at the moment, although I suppose if she was in a car it’s not that far to the exit and then back on again. We haven’t initiated a full-on missing person search yet, dogs and what have you, but maybe that’s next. What do you reckon, Sue? Did they have a row, does Blakely know where she is?”

  She puffed out her cheeks. “Dunno. There’s still a chance that she just went off with someone else, but I have to say it seems unlikely, and the phone thing is a worry. I suppose she could know about tracing, but most people don’t. She’s a bookshop manager, would she know about that stuff? I suppose if she read a lot, but no, not that feasible. If she really wanted to vanish she might have destroyed it, but for most people letting go of their phones is pretty last ditch, isn’t it?”

  Sometimes you just know. When the phone rings it sounds as it always does but you just know.

  As the mobile in Charlie’s pocket chimed they looked at each other and Charlie sighed; rubbed his hands over his face.

  Because sometimes, you just know.

  He took the call, it wasn’t long, and was answered in monosyllables. “They found a phone. It’s in bits. Come on we’ll go down there.”

  * * *

  The rain of the day before had abated but puddles and mud were everywhere. A uniformed constable pointed to the trees. “It’s just over there. Could be any old phone of course but there we are. We’ve marked it.”

  Peering down at the little pile of broken plastic beside the marker, it was true, it could be any old phone. But the shiny pink cover, that was girly. Charlie leaned in and took a few pictures with his own phone, zooming in on the case.

  Coming away they spoke to the uniform sergeant, he had already arranged for the bits to be photographed and collected, marked as evidence, once Charlie had seen them in situ. He had a team looking further afield, just in case there was anything more. They thanked him, ducked back under the tape and went into the services. It seemed there were uniforms everywhere, talking to the public, sticking up the missing person posters. It made it all very real.

  The manager met them, fussing, and worrying. “How long before we can get back to normal? This is having a direct effect on sales. People glance in, see all the uniforms, they think there’s been a terrorist incident or something. A quick visit to the loos and then they’re off again. I don’t know what you’re looking for. What are you looking for? She’s not here, is she? I don’t see why we have all this upheaval.”

  “Well, Mr Simpson, I can’t give you an answer I’m afraid. We need to find out what, if anything, happened to this young woman. You do see that don’t you?”

  “Yes, yes of course I do but couldn’t you just be – oh I don’t know – a bit more discrete, quicker?”

  Charlie sighed. “Not really, in these early days the most important thing is to try and find people who might have seen her. People who come through here regularly. Naturally, with it being the start of the weekend there would have been a different mix, day trippers instead of business men, anyone passing on holiday, or off for a short break. We’ll need to try and catch them coming back. On the other side for that, of course, but for now at least I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do about it. We’ll try not to inconvenience you more than necessary.”

  George Simpson didn’t answer, gave a huff and spun away, taking a couple of steps in the direction of his office.

  Charlie raised his voice. “I’ll need to know about the staff.”

  He spun around again. “How do you mean?”

  “I’ll need access to personnel files, find out who is who really, anything unusual. We will need to have a look at the people who are here regularly.”

  “Well I don’t know if that’s possible. I mean, surely that’s an intrusion, what about their rights, their civil liberty, all that stuff?”

  “I’m afraid that comes second when we’re investigating a crime. If you can’t help we’ll contact your HR department directly. Leave that with us.”

  With another huff of impatience and a glare which took in the whole area the manager stomped away from them.

  “Probably a waste of time, Sue, but run a check on him. See if we’ve had dealings. We’ll get off, go and see Steven Blakely, show him the picture of the phone case, what’s left of it. He’ll probably freak out but it’s the quickest way to find out whether or not we’re wasting our time with it.”

  “Mine’s like that. They’re dead common.”

  “I know. Of course, I know, but if it’s definitely not hers the quicker we know the better.”

  * * *

  They could tell immediately that he recognised it. He reached out and pulled Charlie’s phone closer, peered at the small image. “God. Where was this?”

  “It was near the services; do you think it could be hers? Bear in mind that they are pretty common.”

  “Yeah, yeah, right.” He grasped at the straw. “Yes, of course that’s right. But she had one like this: pink, sparkly. That little sticker, the kitten, she had one like that.”

  “And what make is her phone?” Sue asked quietly.

  “Galaxy. Samsung.”

  Charlie nodded and took his own phone from Steve’s shaking hand. There was no need to confirm that it was the make and model of the one they had found. The name was there, obvious on the image.

  “I’m going to have a family liaison officer come and stay with you, Steve. If you hear anything from Sarah, or think of anything, she’ll be able to get in touch with us quickly, or I could arrange for a man if you’d prefer.”

  He nodded, buried his face in his hand. “Whatever, I don’t mind.” As they let themselves out of the front door, they could hear the muffled sound of his sobs.

  Chapter 7

  They buckled themselves into Charlie’s car. “Right,” he said, “back to the office I reckon. I need to speak to Bob Scunthorpe. It’s vital now that we put an appeal on the telly before the end of the day.”

  The incident room had been sorted, computers moved in and a picture of Sarah pinned to the board against the wall, a timeline underneath it.

  Charlie walked to the notice board, waited and looked aro
und. The two new men and Kate Lewis stood when he arrived; they formed a vague semi-circle between the desks. Sue joined them, and grinned. She didn’t want to appear standoffish, but she had enjoyed working closely with the boss and it was going to be hard now being part of a bigger team.

  “Okay, Operation Archer.” They nodded in acknowledgement. It made it real, gave it a hook.

  “Any of you worked together before? Paul, Dan, do you know Kate and Sue?”

  The taller of the two men nodded, “Me and Dan have but not with the girls.” Kate glared at him, her mouth a tight line. He didn’t seem to notice.

  “Well, I guess we all need to get to know each other.” Charlie had picked up on the spark of disapproval, he’d have to watch that, nip any sort of antagonism in the bud. He was surprised, mostly because it was done with no real ill will, giving the impression of ignorance rather than insult. He’d maybe have a word with Paul at some stage, not yet though. Not until they had a chance to meld a bit. “Carry on getting yourselves sorted and then we can go over the background and what have you.” He waved to the two civilian tech guys who had been sorting out cables, screens and computers in the small room. “Thanks.” They left with a thumbs-up and a smile.

  They took a few minutes to lay claim to work spaces, adjust their chairs, and to settle into the idea. Charlie moved in front of the board. “Right, if I can have your attention for a minute. You’ve all read the background to this.” He glanced around the small group of nodding heads. “We’ve got help from the guys who cover the motorway, when they can fit it in between chasing nutters who are speeding and so on. The traffic officers have been briefed but of course, they’re limited in what they can do. But the more eyes out there the better chance we have of finding her. I think, for the moment the services would be the best use of our time. We have so little information and, typically, the CCTV isn’t the help it should be. Sarah Dickinson isn’t very easy to spot once she gets between the parked cars. There are people everywhere, the visibility was a bit naff, with the rain and all, so – our best hope is that somebody saw her. You know what to do people. Let’s find a witness, yeah?” He pointed to the two women sitting towards the back of the room, “Kate, can you stay here? Man the phones and what have you.”

  The first hours were important, before time blurred memories and the world moved on, they had so very little to work with and they’d lost more than a day already. Charlie went through the notes again, looking for something that might give him an idea. There was nothing. The woman had vanished without fuss, without notice.

  * * *

  Charlie brought up the area on Google earth. They had found the phone just beyond the parking area, opposite the hotel and near to the wooded land. Had it been tossed there from the car park? The troops on the ground would be looking for footprints and tracks, of course. But it was so very wet, and the area was used by dog walkers, churning up the ground while their animals dug and snuffled and crapped. They more than likely wouldn’t have noticed the phone, not with the rain in their faces. It was smashed, so of no interest. Sarah could have walked or been taken through the trees, she could have been forced into a car at this quieter area of the services, or maybe neither of those theories was true and this wasn’t even her phone after all. They had the SIM but unearthing the secrets was down to the technical nerds and it was in a long queue for attention down in the IT department. He’d see if any of the new team had contacts down there, maybe they could speed things up.

  There were a few groups of houses and they would widen the search to include them, but this was the motorway, the main route from London to Birmingham. What were the chances that she was anywhere in the area by now? Pretty remote in reality. There was no use hiding from it: unless they had a huge stroke of luck, finding her – if she didn’t want to be found – was nigh on impossible taking into account what they had to work with.

  Sue had stopped on the way out and peered over his shoulder. “Any ideas?”

  He rubbed his hands over his face, “All we can do at this point is stick to protocol, follow the usual routines and hope for a great dollop of luck. I’m meeting with the Chief Inspector in a few minutes, I’ve got nothing to tell him and no brilliant ideas.”

  Sue touched his arm, “He’ll understand, he’s been here, done this. Don’t try and flannel him, just stick to the facts.”

  “Yeah, thanks Mum.”

  She laughed and turned away, disappearing into the corridor to catch up with the two men.

  He rang home, spoke briefly to Carol and told her he might be late. She seemed well, unless she was burying her feelings – supporting him, just as she always did. He picked up his notes and went through the squad room, speaking over his shoulder as he went. “Kate, give the FLO a ring, tell her to get Blakely geared up for the online appeal, the sooner the better. Once I have the go ahead from Bob Scunthorpe we should be able to get something out this evening.”

  “Right, oh, before you go, that manager… the bloke at the services. George…” Kate ran a finger down one of the papers on her desk, “Simpson, yeah. We did get a couple of minor hits. Eight years ago, he was questioned about an incident of indecent exposure. A couple of young girls in a park said he’d wagged his dick at them. He said he had been caught short and had been peeing in the bushes. He was cautioned. Then six months after that he was picked up in a sweep of kerb crawlers. He insisted that he was there innocently, his car was playing up and he’d had to pull over to give it time to cool down. Again, it was a case of maybe yes, maybe no, so they gave him the benefit of the doubt.”

  Charlie screwed up his face, “Hmm, insignificant little man. A bit unsavoury but… I can’t see him grabbing a woman. Not in his own back yard.”

  “No, but he would know his way around the area I suppose, and he was on the spot. Might be worthwhile having a look. Give you something to tell the Chief at least.”

  “Maybe. Maybe. Anyway, I reckon once the appeal’s over we’ll help with manning phones for a bit, something might pop. Fingers crossed.”

  The phone on the desk rang.

  He glanced over at Kate in the corner, who was watching him as he lifted the receiver.

  He replaced the phone, punched the air, “Yes. Dan’s got someone who thinks they saw her. A woman, they’re bringing her in. Movement, not much but something. Hope for the best, Kate.”

  Chapter 8

  She was a small woman, middle aged, dressed in trousers and a padded jacket. Though she tried, she was unable to keep the air of excitement out of her eyes and her voice as she answered their questions. She accepted a cup of tea, piled her bag and coat on the chair beside where she sat, peering around at the lounge they had brought her to.

  “Thank you so much for your time, Mrs Brett.” Charlie smiled across the little coffee table.

  “Are you going to record it?”

  “No, not at all. We just need you to tell us again what you said to the officer at the services. You saw this young woman?” Charlie held out a copy of the picture they had on the posters.

  “Yes, on Thursday. My mother’s in hospital you see. I have to go and see her every day. On the way home I stop for a cup of coffee. It’s stressful, the hospital.”

  “I’m sorry. I hope it’s nothing too serious.”

  “Oh, I don’t think she’ll be coming home again but…” There was a small shrug of the narrow shoulders. “What can you do?”

  There was no answer. As the moment of silence grew Kate leaned forward, prompted gently. “So, you saw this person?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I wouldn’t have noticed her I don’t suppose but for the bag.”

  “Bag?”

  “Yes, she had one of those big handbags. Thing is I saw one on the television recently. It was Posh Spice, or maybe the Duchess of Cambridge. Someone like that anyway. She had one just like it and I thought ‘Oh well somebody’s got plenty of money.’ But she was struggling with it, you see.”

  “Struggling with the bag.”


  “Yes, trying to stop it going on the floor, in the rain. Her hair was long, and it was getting in her face and she was just making a complete pig’s ear of the whole thing.”

  Charlie scratched his head, glanced at Kate. Mrs Brett caught the look between them. Realised that her worth as a witness was coming under scrutiny.

  She took a breath. “I’m not explaining this properly. You see she was kneeling on the floor, well not kneeling exactly, sort of crouching.”

  “Crouching?” Charlie shook his head, not understanding, “Was she ill, or… I mean, could you say why she was crouching on the floor?”

  “Well, I can’t be sure, but I think there was something wrong with her car. She was at the back, by the boot, you know. Crouching on the floor and sort leaning underneath, groping around by the wheel. That was when I noticed the handbag and I watched her. I thought, well, if that was my bag I would have put it inside. It was leather.”

  “Right.” Charlie nodded at the woman, waiting, hoping for something more.

  “Anyway, then the man came,” she continued.

  This was it. This was it.

  “A man. You saw her with someone?”

  “Oh yes, he came up and talked to her for a bit. Then she stood up, he collected the things from the top of the car and they walked off together. I thought they were probably just going inside to eat their picnic, instead of in the car you know.”

  “Did you get a good look at him, this man?”

  The woman shook her head, then screwed up her face, “Well, not a really good look. It was raining, the windscreen was wet you know? He had his back to me, his head down, talking to her.”

  “How tall was he, can you give us an estimate?” Kate asked.

  Mrs Brett pointed at Charlie, “A bit smaller than him, a bit fatter I think and, excuse me, no offence, he wasn’t coloured. He was white.”

  “Did she seem happy to go with him? Did she seem upset?”

 

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