The Missing Girls

by Carol Wyer

  Sixty-One

  Robyn raced along the corridor and clattered into the office, surprising her officers chatting at their desks.

  ‘We’ve been looking at this all wrong. The fact that Chambers has such weak or non-existent alibis for the nights all three girls disappeared is not consistent with the careful planning of the first concealment. What I mean by that,’ she said, picking up her marker pen, ‘is that someone went to a lot of trouble to hide Carrie Miller’s body. Our mysterious Joanne Hutchinson paid cash for her unit, avoided detection from CCTV cameras at the self-storage warehouse, hired a van but left no trace. The only thing anyone who saw her can remember is how well-spoken she was and how groomed she looked. She wore a smart leather jacket, high-heeled boots and a matching headband. What was it one witness said about her?’ She checked through her notes. ‘That she was “made up like an air stewardess”. It struck me as odd then that a woman would dress up to drive a van and deliver a trunk to a self-storage warehouse. I now think it was deliberate.’ She wrote, ‘Joanne Hutchinson: overdressed, over-the-top, plummy accent.’

  Anna’s eyebrows knotted together in concentration. ‘Are you suggesting that whoever went to all this trouble to create such a cover would have airtight alibis for the third and thirteenth of January when Amber and Siobhan went missing?’

  Robyn waved her pen like a conductor. ‘That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Ever since I saw the photograph of Elliot Chambers dressed as Lady Bracknell, I’ve believed that he disguised himself as Joanne Hutchinson, but what if Joanne Hutchinson actually was a woman?’

  Mitz heaved a sigh. ‘I don’t get it. Am I being extra thick this evening?’

  Robyn shook her head. ‘Far from it. These are only theories. I could be wrong and I need your input. What if this woman were able to make herself look younger by wearing heavy make-up, a smart outfit and maybe a wig? She might even add to the distraction by speaking, as our witnesses have said, “posh”.’

  ‘I get that, but where does Hunter fit in?’ said Mitz.

  Robyn waved her pen again. ‘I’m getting to that. We’ve established that anyone can put up any profile picture on Fox or Dog. No one knows who’s behind the picture until they meet that person in real life. Hunter hasn’t used his own photograph, I’m sure of that. We still need to confirm where the photo came from, but the tech team will surely be able to assist. It’s probably taken from the Internet or a magazine, but either way, it isn’t of the man calling himself Hunter. And what if Hunter isn’t a man at all? A woman might be behind that profile.’ She added the name Hunter and wrote ‘female’ beside it.

  ‘That brings us on to why. Our theory is that Hunter has been targeting those young women who bullied Charlotte Chambers. Elliot was very close to his sister and might well have decided to seek revenge. He certainly ordered a trunk the same size as the one that contained Carrie’s body, but has consistently insisted it was stolen. It sounds too convenient, but he hasn’t wavered from that story. He believes it was stolen from an open outbuilding at The Oaks.’

  Anna wriggled in her seat, head bobbing in excitement. Mitz smiled. ‘I’ve got it. I see where’s you’re going with this theory.’

  ‘Good. There are two people who were directly affected by Charlotte’s death – one is Elliot; the other is Cheryl Chambers.’

  Anna tilted her head. ‘Mrs Chambers is too weak to have committed these crimes. She’s crippled with fibromyalgia. Mitz told me she was struggling to walk. Surely Elliot must be involved as well?’

  ‘That’s what I believed too, Anna. She is unemployed and receiving sickness benefit, but we only have her word she’s suffering from a debilitating illness. Unfortunately, such sensitive information won’t be handed over to us without a warrant.’

  ‘So, you think she could be faking her illness?’ said Mitz.

  ‘I do.’

  ‘Do you really suppose she’s strong enough to lift a trunk containing a body, carry Amber onto Cannock Chase, dig a grave and drop her in, alone?’ Mitz asked. ‘It seems unlikely. She’d need some assistance. I agree with Anna that both of them could be involved.’

  ‘To be honest, Mitz, that’s where I’m also struggling. It’s a heavy trunk.’

  ‘She might be able to haul the trunk onto the van if it was empty. That would be plausible. She might have done that, and once it was loaded, placed Carrie’s body into it.’ Anna said. ‘That would also explain why she couldn’t offload it. It was too heavy for her to manage once Carrie’s body was inside it.’

  ‘True. Good point, Anna. To my mind, Elliot’s demeanour shouts “not guilty”. He was in tears when he went to the cells. We know he’s an actor, but he’d need incredible skills to carry off the performance he put on in that interview room. My head says he might be acting to save his bacon, but my gut says he’s not our perp. If I’m wrong and he is culpable, then he’s an accomplice in all of this. We need to dig deep. Pull up everything you can on Cheryl Chambers and her son, and I mean everything. We have to get this right. One or both of them must be involved in this.’

  She threw herself in front of her computer, focused completely on her task. The room fell silent.

  Mitz spoke first. ‘I’ve got something from the government public records database. Cheryl Denise Chambers, born second of June 1972. Maiden name Cheryl King. Attended school in Birmingham. From 1990 to 1993 studied drama and theatre arts at the University of Birmingham. Took part in a few local productions. Moved from acting into make-up. Worked on regular productions at the Garrick Theatre in Lichfield. Involved with Stagecoach Productions in Uttoxeter. Not much else here of note. Married to Thomas David Chambers in 1994. Elliot Chambers born later that year.’

  Robyn looked across. ‘That’s interesting, and certainly supports my theory that she could have disguised herself as a younger woman. I suspect she has access to theatrical props and make-up too, if she’s been working at local theatres.’

  ‘I’ve found a photograph of her from those early days,’ said Mitz.

  ‘Print it off, Mitz. Dev Khan or Frank might recognise her face from it. I’ve found one of her with her husband at a dairy farmers’ event but her face isn’t very clear in it.’

  The printer clicked and spewed out the picture. Robyn studied it carefully. ‘You can see Elliot’s her son. They share the same nose, eyes and cheekbones.’

  Flint wanted her to charge Elliot Chambers. Her instincts said Chambers wasn’t the guilty party. She stared at the photograph once more. She was going out on a limb yet again. She was going to have to ignore her superior’s wishes. If he didn’t like it, she’d transfer to Yorkshire. It was far more important to find Florence and Siobhan.

  ‘Either of you know if DCI Flint’s still around? I need another warrant. This time for The Oaks.’

  Sixty-Two

  ‘It’s gone ten. Do you think she’ll be up?’ Mitz pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his coat.

  ‘She will be once I bang on the door,’ whispered Robyn. Flint hadn’t been keen to start with, but once she’d explained her reasoning, shown him the photographs and her latest findings, he’d made the necessary phone calls and the warrant had been issued.

  They walked up the drive, keeping noise to a minimum. Anna brought up the rear with David. Robyn pointed to the outbuilding where the Vauxhall Zafira stood. ‘Check out that building. If she transported Amber in that car, there might be something in there. Take a good look around.’ The officers peeled off into the darkness, guided only by torch beams.

  A light burned downstairs, accompanied by the sound of canned laughter. Cheryl Chambers was watching television. Robyn hammered on the door. A curtain twitched. A face appeared and disappeared as quickly

  ‘Mrs Chambers, open the door, please. It’s DI Carter.’

  It was an eternity before Cheryl appeared, dressed in a faded, woollen dressing gown. She was bent over, clinging feebly to her sticks, face contorted in pain. Her voice was tremulous. ‘What do you want?’


  ‘We’d like a few words with you.’

  ‘You can’t come in. It’s late. I’m not feeling very well. I’ve been in bed all day.’

  ‘We have authority to enter your home,’ Robyn said.

  ‘Why? I don’t understand.’ Cheryl’s voice wobbled.

  ‘We have reason to believe you might have information regarding the abduction of young women and the murders of Amber Dalton and Carrie Miller.’

  The woman’s eyebrows shot up in alarm. ‘There’s been some kind of dreadful mistake. I don’t know anything. I rarely go out. Look at me – I can hardly walk.’

  ‘Can we come in for a moment, please, Mrs Chambers?’ Robyn said.

  ‘I don’t have a choice, do I?’ Cheryl grumbled and shuffled backwards, grimacing as she did.

  More laughter came from the television. Robyn accompanied the woman to the sitting room.

  ‘I have to sit down,’ Cheryl said, struggling to get into the chair. ‘The pain’s been dreadful today.’

  ‘Of course,’ Robyn replied. ‘Mrs Chambers, where were you Friday the thirteenth of January at about seven in the evening?’

  ‘Here, of course. I’ve already told one of your colleagues that. She questioned me about my car. I don’t get out much at all. I can’t drive at the moment either, thanks to my back.’

  ‘How do you manage for shopping?’

  ‘I shop online and get it delivered,’ Cheryl said.

  Robyn continued, ‘And you were at home on the twentieth and twenty-first of January?’

  Cheryl nodded.

  ‘We have reason to believe your vehicle was in Uttoxeter on the thirteenth and at Cannock Chase in the early hours of the twentieth of January.’

  ‘Wasn’t my car. I haven’t driven it for months.’ She shrugged lazily.

  Robyn sighed. ‘That’s what I thought you’d say. The only other person who has access to the car is your son, Elliot.’

  ‘No, I’d have known if he’d borrowed it.’ Cheryl shook her head vehemently.

  ‘You might not have heard him take it. If you were here with the television on, or were knocked out on your medication, you wouldn’t have heard the car drive off.’

  The chair creaked as she shifted in it. ‘No, Elliot didn’t take the car. He’d have told me if he wanted to borrow it. Ask him. He’ll have been doing something else on each of those evenings. He’ll have been out with friends.’

  ‘We have asked him.’

  ‘Then you’ll know he had an alibi for that night.’

  Robyn shook her head. ‘Unfortunately, he didn’t have one.’

  ‘He must have had one. I’m sure it was about that time he was going Lichfield or somewhere to watch a play with friends. I think I remember him saying he was going out on the third.’

  Robyn gave a small smile. ‘That wasn’t the case. We’ve had to bring him in as a suspect.’

  Cheryl’s mouth opened and shut again, eyes blinking repeatedly. ‘No, he couldn’t have taken the car. I keep the keys in the house. He doesn’t have a door key.’ She looked up at Robyn with wide eyes – eyes like her son’s. ‘He couldn’t have. You’re mistaken.’

  Robyn looked at her notes. ‘I understand you hold a spare key for Elliot’s flat.’

  ‘In case of emergencies, yes.’

  ‘Was that your suggestion?’

  Cheryl blinked again, face clouding with suspicion. ‘I believe it was his idea. It was in case he ever lost his house keys. There’d be a spare set here.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ Robyn said.

  Cheryl’s lips twisted into a small smile. ‘Kids, eh? Always losing things.’

  Robyn pulled out a photograph. ‘Do you recognise this picture?’

  ‘It’s of me.’ Her eyebrows furrowed again.

  ‘I understand you studied drama at university.’

  ‘I took on a few roles after I left university, but I was out of work a lot of the time. I met Tom, got pregnant and gave it up. When Lotty was older, I became self-employed. Helped out on a few productions in Lichfield and around the area.’ A bead of sweat formed on her upper lip. Robyn smiled again, rose and walked towards the photographs on the shelf, picking up one of Cheryl and her husband Tom.

  ‘When was this taken?’ she asked.

  ‘About fifteen years ago.’ Cheryl’s fingers rubbed continuously at her wrist.

  ‘You make a handsome couple. You ought to have been a model.’

  Cheryl mumbled thanks. Robyn moved on to the next photo of an older Elliot with his sister. ‘I see Elliot bears quite a resemblance to you.’ She stared at Cheryl, who appeared to be folding into her chair. Robyn moved towards the woman and stood in front of the chair.

  ‘You said you do your shopping online.’

  ‘I have a laptop.’ The words were barely audible.

  ‘Mrs Chambers, I’m going to have to confiscate it and your mobile phone if you have one.’

  Cheryl pushed herself forward. ‘Go ahead. I haven’t done anything wrong.’

  ‘Then you won’t object to us taking them away for examination.’

  Cheryl folded her arms, defiance replaced subservience. ‘You won’t find anything on them.’

  ‘Possibly not, but our technicians are very good at retrieving deleted information.’

  Cheryl blinked several times.

  ‘Mrs Chambers, think very carefully before you answer. Do you know this girl?’

  Robyn held up a photograph of Carrie Miller.

  Cheryl glanced at it. ‘No.’

  ‘This girl?’ Robyn showed her the picture of Amber Dalton. Cheryl shook her head.

  ‘How about this young woman, Siobhan Connors?’ Again, Cheryl shook her head.

  ‘I don’t recognise any of them. Should I?’

  ‘We believe they were all involved in online bullying.’ Robyn studied the woman’s reactions. Her face remained impassive. ‘We think they bullied your daughter.’

  ‘Are you here about Lotty, or these girls? I’m feeling pretty tired now and I don’t think I can answer many more questions.’

  Robyn sighed and dropped to her knees so she was facing the woman. ‘In a way, we are here about Charlotte. We have good reason to believe Elliot was involved in abducting these girls and murdering at least two of them.’

  Cheryl’s reaction was slow. She blinked again, then said, ‘Elliot wouldn’t. He couldn’t…’ Her words trailed off.

  ‘We believe he did. Your daughter was the victim of cyberbullying. She used an app that offers people the chance to meet members of the opposite sex, to get to know them, and maybe forge a relationship. Charlotte was picked on by these girls. She was too young, too naïve, to be using the app and didn’t understand the implications. Elliot found out about it. He must have retrieved her phone when he discovered her body. He worked out what had happened and he’s been getting to know these girls online, on this site, by pretending to be interested in them. All this time, he’s been avenging Charlotte’s death. He’s guilty of kidnapping and murder. He’ll go to prison for a very long time.’ Robyn studied Cheryl’s reaction. She swallowed a couple of times. She kept her eyes on Robyn’s mouth, then spoke quietly.

  ‘You’re so wrong. My Elliot is a gentle, caring man.’

  ‘You’re his mother. You would believe that. I can understand.’ Robyn gave a small smile. ‘I’m sorry.’

  Cheryl shook her head. ‘No, he is. He hasn’t a bad bone in his body. He’s very sensitive. He adored Lotty. He wouldn’t commit these crimes.’

  Robyn passed over a fourth photograph. ‘Okay. This is a picture of Florence Hallows, a thirteen-year-old schoolgirl whose mother is frantic with worry. Where is she, Mrs Chambers? I think you know. Did Elliot assist in her abduction?’

  Cheryl growled, ‘I’ve never seen her before. I’ve no idea what you’re talking about. You’re stressing me, and that’s bad for my health. The pain gets uncontrollable when I’m stressed. I’ll report you for this. I’ll talk to your superior. You can’t march in at this
time of night and accuse my son of murder. Leave now. I must lie down. I can feel it flaring up. I need my pills.’

  Robyn stood up. ‘Where are they? I’ll fetch them for you.’

  ‘Go away. Take your colleagues and clear out of my house!’ Cheryl picked up her stick and waved it in Robyn’s direction. Robyn’s heart thudded in her chest. She’d taken a risk riling Cheryl. For the last hour she’d listened to her instincts that told her Florence was being held captive at The Oaks. She’d established that Cheryl had been an actress and make-up artist. She had the skills to change her appearance and pass herself off as a younger or older woman, or even a young man. Before, Robyn had been so focused on the perpetrator being male she’d not considered Cheryl Chambers; yet now she was certain of the woman’s involvement. She was a good actress, but her unconscious tells, like those subtle changes in a poker player’s face, gave her away. Her face may have remained impassive, but the rapid blinking and slight tremor in her left eyelid had told Robyn exactly what she needed to know. Cheryl was behind the murders.

  The laptop would yield Cheryl’s internet searches even if she had deleted her browsing history. Dev Khan and Frank Cummings and Luke Sanderson would all be able to identify her as Joanne Hutchinson. She was not the feeble, sick woman she made out she was. All this would happen, but for now Robyn had to locate Siobhan and Florence. She prayed this woman hadn’t harmed either of them. She held up the photographs of Siobhan and Florence.

  ‘Mrs Chambers, these girls don’t deserve to be punished like this. We’ll make sure Siobhan is dealt with. We don’t tolerate cyberbullying. As for Florence, she’s a sweet girl. She isn’t vindictive or cruel, and she didn’t even know your daughter.’

  Cheryl scowled. ‘I told you to get out.’

  ‘Let me take Florence home to her mother. Tell me where she is, please. Her mother is beside herself with worry. Don’t put her through this. You know what it’s like to lose a daughter.’ In that moment, Robyn knew she’d overstepped an invisible line. The sneer on Cheryl’s face scared her.