Roger remembered, later during the trial, how Adam said she had been almost out of her head most of the time, and nothing much she said made sense. He couldn’t understand why, and she had done nothing to help her case. If it hadn’t been for the corrupt detective planting false evidence, she almost certainly would have been charged with murder. Everything was stacked against her. What on earth had been the matter with her? Surely she should have had psychiatric help? Hadn’t she wanted to be let off?
Roger recollected how the children had been discovered in a shallow grave about ten days later. Their pathetic little bodies had been mutilated, probably by wild animals, and a few gnawed bones were scattered underneath the forest trees. Their mother looked so shocked in court: so pale and thin. But…were Adam and he wrong? Could she have killed her first two children? And possibly these two?
What if she had a jealous lover? Passion could be a powerful motive to someone so young and attractive. Her apathy during the trial could have been a quiet admission of her guilt. Roger had known it to happen before. He swivelled round to William and Debbie to ask something, but stopped when Diana returned from the direction of the kitchen. One look at her face told him she had been talking to the police inspector. He caught her eye, and she gave a slight shake of her head.
Debbie caught the look between them and slumped in her chair. “The children…has there been any news? They must be so hungry.”
William leant over and grabbed her hand. “Darling, please. Stop torturing yourself.”
There was a sudden burst of sound as icy sleet hit the window, and everyone turned to look. “Why don’t they use the helicopters?” William asked testily. “Surely they could use them if they were careful.”
Diana abruptly turned her attention away from the window. “I asked the inspector just now, and he said it’s too windy. They…they may later if the weather lifts.”
“It’ll be too late then. It’ll be dark,” Debbie said in a voice devoid of tone.
Diana walked over to Debbie and sat down on the settee arm near her. She smiled in a reassuring manner. Roger had to admire how sensitive she appeared to be. “He did say they’d brought in some of the local hunters to help search. They know the terrain, and well, they might find Hannah and Charlie. Everyone’s helping.”
“I’m sure Hannah’s getting a cold. She’ll be frozen. They’ll find their bodies frozen.” Her voice sounded remote.
Diana stared at Debbie; they all heard the detached note in her voice and noticed her expressionless eyes. Debbie was sitting completely still. Diana glanced across to Roger and both instantly knew that Debbie was on the verge of complete shutdown.
The wind rattled against the house, and more sleet and snow hit the window. When footsteps sounded in the hall, everyone looked towards them and held their breath as the inspector walked in.
“Mr William, can I speak to you privately?” he asked in a curt voice. William’s hand trembled against Debbie’s as he stood up.
“Did you find my babies?” she asked in a whisper. William bent down and kissed her cheek.
“I’ll be right back,” he said and followed the inspector out of the room.
*****
Inspector Andreas Christopopodoulou took his time before asking William who their solicitor was.
William looked up, and the Cypriot caught the look of uncertainty that flitted across his face. It was just as he thought. The English couple hadn’t bothered. Mr William hadn’t got in touch with anyone, as he was still trying to pretend that his wife was innocent. That she was the distraught mother of two missing children. Αγία Μαρία! (Saint Maria!)
Well, he had different ideas. He had news for Mr William. His beloved wife had done all this before. Six years ago.
William bowed his head. “We haven’t contacted a solicitor,” he said. “We hoped, I hoped that with everyone searching, you’d find…them…”
“We’re going to have to call it off soon,” Andreas said, his tone flat and monotonous. “We won’t be able to see anything. I have to take your wife down to Limassol police station for questioning. I think it will be a good idea if you call a solicitor or lawyer as soon as possible.”
“What? You can’t take Debbie down there.” William snapped. “If you take her to a police station, you’ll destroy her. She’ll be devastated. She still has nightmares about jails. She dreams about being questioned and then being taken into a mortuary to identify her children. My God! You’re inhumane. Can’t you see the shock she’s in? If you force her to go down there, she may not be able to tell us anything. Have you thought about that?”
“I’m only doing my job.”
“You see what this has done to her so far? And what about that damned email? Whoever was perverted enough to write that could easily be sick enough to abduct two small children.”
“We have our expert going over the computer with the email, but as it was sent from an internet café, we don’t hold out much hope.”
William looked away from the cold black eyes of Andreas Christopopodoulou, and his glance fell on a photograph of Debbie with Charlie and Hannah. It was taken nearly two years previously when the children were considerably smaller. They looked so sweet and happy sitting on their mother’s lap. Debbie looked radiant and pretty. His throat closed, and he found it hard to swallow.
“I want you to go and get your wife. We’ll all go down to the station together.”
There was a sound behind them, and they turned to find Debbie leaning against the doorway for support. “No. No please, not that.” Her face was deathly white, and her blonde hair was plastered flat against her head. Roger and Diana were standing just behind her looking concerned.
William crossed to the doorway in two wide strides and pulled Debbie into his arms. “It’s all right, darling. Nobody’s taking you anywhere.”
Chapter 17
Looking from the upstairs window, Philip Bolton could see almost everything that was happening in the Frost household. After telling Charlie that his mother had gone to heaven, he took him back down to his sister and offered them both a biscuit and some milk. The little girl seemed to be coming down with a cold because she said she was thirsty, and her forehead felt slightly hot to his touch. He slipped a sedative into their beakers, and within minutes both children were soon sleeping soundly on the bed. He decided to leave a weak light burning in a wall sconce, as he didn’t want them waking up and getting hysterical in the darkness. Although he was confident no one would hear their cries deep from below the ground, he wanted to be completely sure. He left them curled up together, the boy with one arm thrown protectively over his little sister, both children snuggled down beneath the blanket.
He took care that he wasn’t seen silhouetted against a light in the upstairs window as he spied on the police activities. He grinned to himself while watching the hapless constables fan out in a haphazard sort of grid pattern. He could hear one officer quite clearly through the falling snow as he called and berated his officers to keep within the chosen pattern and to methodically check the ground they were walking over. Too few, too little, too late, he thought. That time, back in England, there had been helicopters, and he remembered the clatter as they whirred overhead, criss-crossing the land. This time, nothing was so well-planned; even the hunters were pretty useless, and he knew he would get away with it once again. It made him tingle with excitement in his groin, and he let out another cackle of laughter. The snow was still falling thick and fast, and the windows were rimmed with ice. The weather forecaster on the radio had spoken of high winds and more snow throughout the night. He couldn’t have asked for better conditions. Temperatures were expected to fall to at least minus six degrees Celsius. The men would soon be returning to their warm patrol cars. Who would have thought the weather to be so extreme in Cyprus this winter?
He had something else to think about too. And it gave him another shiver of excitement as he dwelt upon it. He didn’t know whether to bury them in the earth or to
bundle them into the car and toss them into the river once he finished with them. Because the ground was frozen, he would have trouble digging even the shallowest of graves, whereas the current of the river would take them all the way down to the big reservoir. They would most probably never be found until the next drought. Even better, he could tie weights around their necks, and then they might never be found. The longer they were missing, the harder it would be to identify them once decomposition set in. But, of course, the authorities would quickly ascertain to whom the bodies belonged even without DNA testing. The number of child murders on Aphrodite’s isle was small compared to back in England, despite his presence on the island over the last few years. He luxuriated in the thought of where their final resting place would be. Or should he use the well on his property again? He rubbed his hands together with glee. That was by far the best and easiest choice. The well was deep, and at the bottom there was a fast flowing river. He had used it before…
He laughed. But this was all academic. Before then, he had at least twenty-four hours. During that time, he could look across the valley and stare into Debbie’s house. Twenty-four hours to play with the children. Both were beautiful. They shared the same soft skin as their mother, and both had perfect little bodies; even the boy resembled Debbie.
Debbie…or Yvonne as he knew her back then. She had been such a little flirt, despite looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. She seemed to get a kick by being nice and kind to every male she met. Who was she kidding? He knew she fooled around, given the chance. No one could look as pretty as her without flaunting her body. Hadn’t she done exactly that to him the first time they met?
The little girl, Hannah, looked so much like her mother. She had such beautiful silky hair and a perfect little nose. Before he left the children in the cellar, he picked the little girl up in his arms. Neither child stirred as he stroked her hair and little body. When all was quieter across the valley and the patrol cars had disappeared, he intended to bring her indoors. He wanted to undress her, sit her on his knee while he read a fairy story to her…Hansel and Gretel would be a good one.
He had slipped his fingers under her coat and felt the light fluttering of her heart against his hand. The feeling made him groan with desire. She was so sweet, and adorable, just a perfect and beautiful child. She moved in her drug-induced sleep, and her eyelids fluttered. “Mummy?”
Regretfully, he withdrew his hand and replaced the blanket. He would have to wait until the time was right. Then, when everyone was sleeping, he would have all the time in the world to live out his fantasy.
Chapter 18
“So I thought, since Diana has been at the Frosts for a few hours, I’d go over and see if I could help in any way. I would have gone before, but my mother arrived a day early, and I had to settle her in. Well, I couldn’t very well drag her out with me, could I? She’s having a sleep and knows I have an errand to run, so she’ll be all right for a while. I told Di I’d stay here and wait for your telephone call,” Steve said in a rush as he greeted Adam and Clare. He ushered them through the doorway into the warm. “Sorry. I know I’m gabbling, but a lot’s happened here today.” He dragged a hand through his hair, ruffling it. He didn’t know where to begin. “I must say it’s not a fine welcome to Cyprus for you. Whatever poor Debbie and William are feeling, it won’t be far short of hell.”
Adam glanced at Clare who returned his look with a glare. Trying not to look surprised, Steve eyed first one and then the other. They appeared to have had a tiff.
Clare was the first to recover and answer Steve. “It’s awful, that poor woman. To go through this once before was horrendous, but for it to happen again. It’s enough to turn your mind.”
At first, Steve was taken aback by her words. He opened his mouth to say something just as Adam forestalled him by raising his hand. “Sorry to startle you, Steve, but we know all about Debbie Frost. Or at least I do.”
Steve looked puzzled, so Adam explained everything as quickly as he could. Once he had finished, he walked over to the living room window and looked out over the snow-covered landscape. “So you see, when Roger was certain Debbie was no other than Yvonne Brookes, he was sure I’d want to have one last conversation with her. It’s hard to explain to someone if they weren’t involved, but we both have felt she was let down rather badly.”
Steve’s face cleared as he grasped everything Adam had told him. “So you’re here on business as well as pleasure?”
“Not really. Nothing official. I was only going to try and talk to her the once. Now this has happened.”
Clare intervened. “The first I knew about this was when we arrived at our holiday home. Adam took me completely by surprise, too. Steve?”
“Yes?”
She paused and bit her lip before carrying on. “Might we come with you? I realise we don’t know the Frosts, but I thought we might be an extra pair of hands…you know, we could help in whichever way you think best.”
Steve nodded. “I’m sure William will be amenable to that, although Debbie’s a lot more introverted and shy and might need some persuading. Actually, it’s something Di and I were talking about before you arrived. The police are threatening to call the search off at any moment due to the foul weather conditions. She thought we could rally up some of our friends who would be willing to help search.”
Adam smiled. “That sounds just like the Diana I know. I don’t expect the police to possess any specialist police search units on the island. Their methods won’t be anything like as good as they are back home, for a number of reasons. Experience will be a key player in this. They’ll almost certainly stand down, but hopefully they’ll resume at first light. Your friends probably won’t have any experience when it comes to searching, but at least they’ll be doing it because they want to. What did you have in mind?”
“Actually, you’re wrong there. Diana suggested some of the fitter friends in the village and members of our hash to join us. Some of them are either ex British forces or policemen belonging to the hash. ”
Both Clare and Adam frowned at his words. “Hash?” asked Clare. “What’s a hash? Some local pot-taking society?”
Steve laughed. “No, not at all. It’s short for Hash House Harriers. Hashers are strange creatures. Basically, they’re a group of people who meet once a week and run or walk over the island following a laid trail of coloured flour. It’s a bit like the old-fashioned hare and hounds, except the hash trail has lots of false trails as well as the legit one. Usually, the trail is set in very difficult terrain, and it can be a strenuous run. When you think about it, Cyprus is very hilly, with masses of gorges and unfriendly thorny vegetation. We liken it to hard fell running, and quite frankly, I’m surprised we don’t suffer more accidents then we do.”
Adam looked suitably astonished. “And you and Diana are members? You both run on these hash trails?”
“We do.”
“I’m amazed. I don’t remember Diana running anywhere when we were together.” Adam almost sniggered.
“No, it’s a fairly recent thing. Since our return from the UK, she decided she needed to get fitter. She got talking to some people in the Magic Teapot a few weeks later, and within days we were signed up. We usually go twice a week now.”
Adam spluttered with laughter. “The Magic Teapot? Do you know what that’s a euphemism for? No? Don’t worry…it doesn’t matter, I’ll tell you some other time. Well, you do surprise me. So you’re suggesting getting some of these hashers involved too?”
Steve nodded. “That’s right.”
Adam shook his head in amusement. “Well, I’ve heard it all. And I thought you and Di lived a nice quiet and refined life out here…out all hours, gallivanting over rocky countryside. The mind boggles, I must say.”
“It sounds more extreme than it is, and I forgot to mention the beer drinking afterwards! Anyway, I’m sure they’ll all be up for it once we get organised.”
“It might work. For now, let’s get down to
the Frosts and see what’s what. I might not be welcome of course, and they could throw me out. It’s a risk I’ll have to take. Er…I suppose you do realise the children have been missing for some hours now, and the chances of finding them alive are pretty slim.” Adam said as he shrugged his coat back on. He turned to Clare. “Sweetie, are you sure you want to tag along? It won’t be very nice.”
“Of course I do, and the children are still alive…I know they are. Besides, Debbie needs me.”
She moved towards the doorway, oblivious to the puzzled looks which passed between the two men.
*****
Debbie Frost was standing near the open fireplace. Next to her stood a tall brown-haired man whom Adam guessed was her husband. Despite the change of hair colour, Adam would have known her anywhere. He recalled that sweet cupid-bow mouth and rich brown eyes, ringed by sooty brows and lashes. She reminded him of a fairy-tale character, clear-skinned and almost ageless.
Debbie stared hard at Adam with a frown upon her brow as she struggled to place his familiar face. A few seconds later, eyes wide open, she gasped in bewilderment. “Chief Inspector Lovell, what are you doing here?”
William turned in confusion from Adam to his wife. “Darling? Is this the policeman who—?”
CHILDHUNT: A Mystery & Suspense Thriller in the Bestselling Diana Rivers Series (The Diana Rivers Mysteries Book 5) Page 10
