by Carol Wyer
This was a likely explanation. Now she had to prove it. A call came through from PC Patel.
‘Got an address for Claire Lewis. Hampshire Constabulary is on it but she hasn’t returned home. They tried her studio and her phone but no response from either.’
Robyn groaned. ‘I hope she hasn’t gone to ground. Get a warrant for her place. Check out all her friends and usual haunts. Let’s see if we can flush her out. Also, check the organisers of the photographic contest in the magazine. I want to know where they sent the prize that Zoe Cooper won. Maybe she has an alternative address and is hiding out there.’ She read out the information from the magazine she had brought away with her.
‘Roger that,’ replied PC Patel. ‘Also, bad news on Abigail Thorne. She was with Hampshire Constabulary all afternoon. She’s just been taken home. It appears her baby has been kidnapped.’
Robyn felt the puzzle pieces shift again.
56
Abigail breathed in the warm breeze, carrying the smell of sea salt. Waves tumbled against the shore, their white foamy heads breaking gently before racing up the sandy beach. The sun beat on her face and trickles of moisture ran down the back of her neck. Jackson sat on the sand, Izzy between his legs, building a sandcastle. She was too young to appreciate what he was doing but her eyes, the same colour as the azure sea, sparkled with pleasure. She banged a plastic spade on the freshly upturned pile of sand and chuckled. Abigail felt the warmth of the sun penetrate her body and fill her heart with a heat she had never before experienced. She adored her child. Izzy made her life complete. She shut her eyes and enjoyed the perfect moment.
Then, Jackson shouted her name, his voice full of anxiety and disquiet. She looked for him on the sand but that image was evaporating and now Jackson’s face hovered over hers, concern etched on his features, lines where there had never been lines, his eyes sunken and red.
She felt woozy as she tried to pull herself up from the bed. The sedative the doctor had given her had confused her mind and made her limbs sluggish. Why had he come? She couldn’t remember. Then it hit her. Izzy had gone. Izzy had gone and Abigail had broken down.
‘Are you okay?’ Jackson asked, holding her hand in his own.
‘Izzy?’ she asked, hoping beyond hope that this was all a terrible dream.
Jackson shook his head. ‘No news yet. The police are going through CCTV footage to see if anything was captured.’
His face was ashen and he had aged ten years.
‘I’m so sorry. I only left her for a few moments. I didn’t think…’ Her voice trailed off. It didn’t matter how often she apologised, this was all her fault. She should never have left Izzy alone in the car. She should have told the truth sooner and none of this would have happened.
‘There was a policewoman here to look after you but when I got in I told her to leave. They’re sending someone around later to let us know what they’re doing and to advise us.’ He paused, swallowing back a lump in his throat. ‘They might ask more questions. Are you up to it?’
She nodded. ‘I don’t know what more I can tell them. I told them who’s got her. It was Lucas Matthews. He phoned me and arranged to meet me then set me up. Him and his devious friend, Rachel. He lured me to the car park and then got someone to steal my handbag. I didn’t think, Jackson. I ran after the man and when I got back, Lucas had snatched her. I should never have agreed to meet him.’
Jackson pressed her hand again. ‘No, Abigail. It wasn’t Lucas Matthews.’
‘It was. He phoned me just after I left the doctor’s surgery. You don’t know him. He’s evil. He’s the one who’s been stalking me, phoning me, emailing me. He set it all up. He’s been planning it carefully so he could take Izzy. He’s working with Rachel Croft. I told the police all of this. I told them about the note and the phone calls and being hacked, and how it was all down to Lucas and his accomplice. Rachel was in on it, that’s how they slipped ipecac into my drink at the café. That’s how the photograph that is hanging over our bed appeared on Facebook.’ She shook her head in dismay as she spoke, her words tumbling from her lips, faster and faster until tears formed again and she drew in shuddering breaths.
‘Abby,’ Jackson insisted. ‘It wasn’t Lucas Matthews. It couldn’t have been. Lucas is dead. The police told me at the station. They tried to contact him and discovered he died almost a week ago. It wasn’t him.’
Abigail felt her chest tightening. She couldn’t breathe. She gasped and struggled, her breath now coming in short pants. Jackson held her tightly until she calmed. ‘Rachel?’ she managed to say.
‘The police are looking into your claim. They sent a team to her house. They couldn’t tell me any more than they were doing everything they could to find Izzy. I came home as soon as I could.’
Her mind went blank. The hurt, pain and fear became physical and she hugged her knees to her chest and rocked forwards and backwards. At last, she stopped, sniffed and turned her face to Jackson’s. ‘But if Lucas is dead, then who has stolen our baby?’
He shrugged helplessly. ‘I wish I knew, Abby. I wish I knew.’
57
The call came as Robyn was nearing Hartley Witney.
‘We have located Lucas Matthews’s mobile,’ said a triumphant PC Patel. ‘He stayed at a Premier Inn in Farnborough. I rang all the local hotels and asked if anyone had left suddenly without checking out. Turns out Lucas Matthews didn’t check out as expected and left a holdall and clothes in his room. The hotel charged his credit card for his stay, gathered up his possessions and put them in lost property. Do you want to collect them or should I get someone from Hampshire Constabulary to fetch them?’
‘I’ll go as soon as I’ve interviewed Abigail Thorne.’
‘Righto. His phone company released his call log too. Nothing on it since last Monday and before that he made calls to several Farnborough numbers. I’ll check them all out.’
‘Great stuff! We’re getting close now, Mitz. I’m positive we’re almost in sight of his killer. Any news on Claire Lewis?’
‘None yet. Still working on that. It seems like her phone is off and not traceable. I’ve done background checks and got some information on her. According to her Facebook profile she was born 1990. Birthday down as the twelfth of September, but that needn’t be the case. You can pretty much put in what you like on the profile. She hasn’t listed any schools, but on her LinkedIn account she states she has HNC qualifications in photography. Her website contains samples of her work and a contact email address. She uses the social media accounts to advertise her photography and her Facebook friends appear to be mostly old clients or local business people in Farnborough. She doesn’t post much personal stuff and her only real friends seem to be Zoe Cooper and Abigail Thorne. There are a few photographs of them out together. I haven’t stumbled on anything that would help us at this stage but am looking into it further.’
‘Blast! Okay, Mitz, let me know as soon as you locate her.’
‘Anna has unearthed a deleted file on Paul Matthews’ laptop. It is entitled Abigail. Not much in it though. There’s her home address, details about the house from Zoopla, and the photographs from their wedding which appeared in the online version of the local newspaper. He’s got some photographs of BizzyAir Business Aviation jets and a photograph of Jackson with his business partner. There’s a photograph of Abigail at some hospitality event that got into the paper too. He’s also downloaded an announcement from the Farnborough News regarding the birth of Isobel Willow Thorne.’
Robyn chewed on her lip. Mitz continued. ‘At school, I had to make a collage of my family using photos and write about each person. This is a bit like that. Is this an electronic scrapbook?’
‘I’m about to find out, Mitz.’ A thought hit her. ‘You had passport details for Abigail. What maiden name did she have?’
‘Bridges,’ replied Mitz.
‘Of course,’ said Robyn. ‘Bridges. It makes sense.’
‘I’m still in the dark.’
> ‘Paul Matthews’ first wife, Mitz. She was called Linda Bridges.’
‘Ah! Got it. I suppose that’s why I’m a PC and you’re a DI, ma’am.’
‘Keep digging on Claire Lewis and for heaven’s sake drop the “ma’am”. I’m sure you’ve impressed Anna sufficiently by now.’
Robyn pulled into the drive. Jackson opened the front door to the house before she stepped out of her car. He strode up to her. ‘Any news? Abigail’s going out of her mind with anxiety.’
Robyn ignored his question, looking into his eyes and speaking with sincerity. ‘I am really sorry about this. I have to interview her. I know my timing is bad but this can’t wait.’
Jackson cocked his head to one side as he suddenly comprehended the situation. ‘So your visit isn’t about Izzy. You’re not here to find our daughter?’
‘I’m here to conduct an interview with your wife regarding the death of Lucas Matthews. I believe she might be withholding evidence. I understand this is a difficult time but I have to do my job.’
Robyn tried to be reasonable. The man was obviously distraught.
‘But she’s in no fit state to talk about Lucas Matthews. She’s talking nonsense at times. She was in such a bad way; she even thought that man had stolen Izzy. The detective who interviewed me told me Lucas Matthews was dead. Abigail is too upset to talk about him. She can’t help you.’
Jackson folded his arms, refusing to move out of Robyn’s way.
A resigned voice behind him made him spin around.
‘Jackson, let her in. It’s time to tell the truth.’ Abigail was standing by the door, her shoulders sagging as if her spirit had been drained.
She turned back into the house and Jackson and Robyn followed her in. Abigail was in the lounge, back on the settee, knees drawn into her chest, clutching the toy dog that Robyn had seen last in Izzy’s hands. She looked exhausted, her skin the colour of dough and her eyes red-rimmed and swollen. Part of Robyn wanted to reach out and hold the woman to ease the pain; the same part that knew exactly what it felt like to lose a child.
‘I’m so sorry,’ she began. ‘We are trained for these situations. The team involved will do everything to find her.’
Abigail choked back a sob. ‘I don’t know who would do this to us. First, I thought it was Zoe. Then I believed it was Lucas along with Rachel Croft. That all seemed to add up, and now, now I don’t know anything any more. The police say it was a random snatching, maybe someone who took a chance when I left her. I don’t understand how they could do such a thing. I hope she’s okay. I couldn’t live if anything happened to her.’
Jackson walked to the window and stared outside, a silent sentinel waiting for someone to bring news.
‘I am truly sorry to have to question you about this at such a difficult time but I have to know,’ said Robyn. ‘Lucas Matthews was found dead in Staffordshire.’ She waited to give Abigail a chance to understand the importance of what she was about to ask. ‘When I questioned you about him, you denied knowing him. You said you had never heard of him. Do you wish to change your statement now?’
Abigail sniffed back tears. ‘I didn’t want my life to change,’ she said. ‘I was so happy. I had Jackson, Izzy, friends, everything I ever wanted. Lucas destroyed my life when I was younger and I didn’t ever want to hear his name, or see him again. He isn’t—’ She corrected herself, ‘He wasn’t normal. He was cruel and hateful in ways you wouldn’t comprehend: a person you wouldn’t want to know. It was because of him I left home. I had to get away. I couldn’t stand his superior attitude and his creepy ways any longer. I wiped him from my mind. Until recently, it was fine. I didn’t ever think of him and now…’ She paused again. ‘I’m sorry. I should have told you. I wish I had. Maybe if I had, Izzy would be here still. Lucas Matthews was my brother.’
‘I see,’ replied Robyn. ‘What happened to make you leave home? It must have been serious.’
‘It’s a long story and I doubt it has any bearing on your investigation. Also, I need to tell Jackson the complete story before I speak to you about it. I owe him that much. I’ll tell you what I have already told him. I left home when I was sixteen. I had a major fallout with my father over Lucas and walked out. My father gave me money to start a new life and I did. I went abroad and began again. I changed my surname from Matthews to Bridges, my mother’s maiden name, and became Abigail Bridges – a new name, a new person and a new life. Both Lucas and Paul owed me that much and as far as I was concerned they no longer existed. I worked abroad for a long while. The company eventually let me go and I returned to the UK. I was offered a job in hospitality at the Farnborough Air Show. It was good money but a temporary position. I hadn’t intended staying after the show. I had planned on going back abroad but I met Jackson.’
Jackson continued to look out of the window as if at any time his daughter would turn up. Robyn wasn’t sure if he was listening to the conversation and doubted he was.
‘I hadn’t seen or heard from either of them until you asked me about Lucas and said he had been searching for Zoe. That same day, I discovered I had been deliberately poisoned with ipecac, put two and two together and decided it must have been Lucas behind all of it, along with an accomplice. That could only be Rachel. I had arranged to meet her, and then I was going to report all of it to the police, when I got a call from the same person that has been phoning me the last few days. I thought it was Lucas. We arranged to meet at the Meads car park and that’s where I did something stupid. I raced after a thief, leaving my baby in the car for a few moments and when I got back she’d disappeared.’ Abigail spluttered the last few words. Her resolve weakened and she began to cry. Robyn ached for her and what she was going through but, somehow, all of it was connected. She had to fit the pieces together. Abigail wiped her eyes once more and tightened her grip on the rag dog.
‘I understand this is hard for you, but please go through the conversation again for me.’
Through gulps and sobs, Abigail repeated the exchange she had had with the caller and the events that led to Izzy disappearing.
‘This person told you your father, Paul, was dead?’
Abigail held the toy dog to her face and nodded. ‘I didn’t care. I was so angry with Lucas for tormenting me. I didn’t care about anything and now Lucas is dead too and I still don’t care. I just want Izzy back.’
‘We’ll get her back,’ said Robyn, hoping her words did not sound hollow. They needed to get some footage from the CCTV cameras, ask possible witnesses and track down the person responsible.
‘One last question. Did Claire know your father or Lucas?’
Abigail tilted her head to one side. ‘Claire? No. She’s never met either of them. Why are you asking about Claire?’
‘I’m trying to understand how someone might have learned you and Lucas were related. Best friends often share secrets and those can unintentionally be leaked to partners or close friends or be overheard.’
‘No one knew about Lucas, or my father. I didn’t discuss it with anyone, not Claire and not even Jackson. Once I became Abigail Bridges, I put everything behind me.’
‘Claire has never asked you about your childhood or chatted about stuff you both liked when you were younger?’
Abigail thought for a moment. ‘I can’t say we have discussed much, only bands we used to like and schooldays when we hated certain teachers. She went to a few schools. Her parents were in the army and she had to change school a lot. Her parents got divorced when she was still young and she lived with her mother. She hardly saw her dad after the divorce, what with him doing tours and living in other parts of the country. She was bitter about that. Her mum didn’t like her visiting him either and made it difficult. By the time she was old enough to make her own choices, her dad had passed away. He got killed in Afghanistan.’ She squeezed the toy. The action brought her back to the present and to Izzy. ‘I don’t see how this is helping you and it isn’t helping to get my baby back. Shouldn’t you be involved in tha
t rather than asking about my friends?’
Robyn observed the woman who was gradually unravelling in front of her. ‘I can assure you that everyone concerned will be searching for Izzy,’ she replied. ‘It may not seem relevant but sometimes these things lead to other unconnected people and we find perpetrators. You’ve been really helpful, thank you.’
Abigail sniffed again. ‘I’ve never spoken about the events that made me leave my family,’ she reiterated, eyes on the dog in her hands. ‘They were too horrible to talk about. I buried them deep inside and now I have to unearth them and speak about the disgusting violation. Jackson will never be able to look at me the same way. My life has been ruined, Detective Carter, and if Izzy is not found, what’s left of my shattered life won’t be worth living.’
Jackson shifted uncomfortably and turned towards the settee. Abigail pressed her lips tightly together to prevent herself from sobbing again.
‘Do you have anyone you can contact about this? Family, friends? Does Claire know that Izzy is missing? She ought to be here for you.’
Robyn was uncomfortable using Abigail’s fragile emotions to learn more about Claire but she needed answers and she couldn’t shake the notion that Claire was somehow involved in this latest tragedy.
‘She’s on a photo shoot for a magazine – Nature World – in Scotland. I tried calling her earlier but I went through to her answerphone. I left a message.’
Robyn stood up. ‘Thank you, Abigail. The police will do everything to get her back. You know that, don’t you?’
Robyn felt dispirited as she left the Thornes. She now knew why Paul Matthews had a file on Abigail. Whatever had happened, he had wanted to somehow keep in touch. Even if it was from afar. It was a shame he never got to actually meet his granddaughter. This wasn’t her case but she wanted to help look for baby Izzy. She would visit the station and see how proceedings were going. DCI Corrance might not like her turning up but that was tough. Robyn wasn’t going to worry about offending anyone. A baby was missing and she wanted to help find her. First, though, she would collect Lucas’s belongings.
