Little Girl Gone

by Stephen Edger

  Alex fought against the nausea building in her stomach, pushing the remains of the toast to one side. ‘I’m going to take a shower and get dressed. I want you to interrupt me the second you hear something.’

  Isla promised she would, and then watched as Alex headed for the staircase, a mutual understanding already growing between them.

  10

  Tired eyes stared back at him from the large mirror above the basins. Ray wasn’t accustomed to sleeping slouched over a desk, and as he straightened and rotated his shoulders, his lower back ached from the uncomfortable position. Running the hot tap, he allowed the sink to fill with water before lowering his hands into it and splashing handfuls of warm water against his stubbly cheeks.

  It didn’t bother him that he was still in yesterday’s clothes. He doubted his colleagues would comment even if they did notice. None of them would judge him, not after what had happened. Although Trent had made it clear she wouldn’t involve him in the investigation, he hoped she’d have softened her resolve overnight and might at least allow him to hang around in the office. He didn’t want to interfere, but he wanted to be the first to know the moment a break was made. Somebody would have to collect Carol-Anne from wherever she was and he couldn’t think of anyone better.

  Emptying the sink, he reached into his trouser pocket and removed the spare tie he always kept in his desk drawer, slipping the pre-tied loop around his neck before straightening the knot. At least the tie would make it appear as if he had been home and changed.

  Exiting the bathroom, he proceeded along the corridor to the large office the team worked out of. There was no sign of Trent, and he guessed she was probably further along the corridor setting up the Major Incident Room, where the team would operate from primarily as the investigation developed.

  ‘Ray?’ DC Owen Hargrove said as he approached, a quizzical look on his face. ‘What are you doing here? I thought—’

  ‘What’s the latest?’ Ray quickly fired back, ignoring the question.

  Owen glanced nervously around like he could sense Trent nearby. ‘I can’t … I mean, we’re not supposed to discuss the investigation with you; DI’s orders. Has she seen you here yet?’

  Ray shook his head, unsurprised by Owen’s reaction. Leaning closer, Ray whispered, ‘Whatever happens, you’ll keep me in the loop, right? I’m not asking you to break any rules, just keep me updated with what’s going on. That’s all I’m asking.’

  ‘I can’t,’ Owen replied through gritted teeth.

  ‘You owe me, Owen. Okay? I won’t stitch you up; just let me know when something new breaks.’

  Owen’s eyes widened as he spotted Trent approaching the two of them over Ray’s shoulder.

  ‘Ray, can we have a word in my office, please?’ she said calmly.

  He nodded and followed her through the banks of desks to the small enclosure at the far end of the room, closing the door quietly behind him. ‘I’m ready to do whatever you need, ma’am.’

  She looked at the creased shirt, crumpled suit jacket and stained tie. ‘What I need is for you to go home and wait for us to call.’

  ‘Please, ma’am, I’ll go stir crazy at home. You know me: I need to keep busy. I promise I won’t get in anybody’s way.’

  ‘I know that, Ray,’ she said empathetically. ‘My stance hasn’t changed from last night. You can’t be anywhere near what is going on for your sake as well as the sake of the rest of the team. We need to consider every angle in cases like this, and I don’t think any of the team will feel able to speak freely knowing you are nearby.’

  He knew what she was implying, even if she hadn’t used the term. He’d been a detective long enough to know that Trent would have already instructed the team to pull together a list of registered sex offenders from the area so they could start checking alibis. The thought of some slime ball being anywhere near Carol-Anne made him want to pick up the chair in front of him and hurl it out of the window. And that was precisely why Trent didn’t want him anywhere near the investigation.

  ‘Please, ma’am, give me anything else to do. I’m not asking to work the case, but just let me be nearby. I could work from my desk here. We’ve got dozens of unsolved cases that I could slowly work through.’

  She considered him silently, but he couldn’t tell if she was pondering his request or trying to find the words to let him down gently.

  ‘How’s Alex coping?’ she eventually asked.

  He thought back to the reprimand he’d delivered in the back of the patrol car before Owen had driven her home. The guilt must have been written over his face, as Trent said, ‘Ah, I see.’

  ‘I’ll check on her when I go home,’ he said, lowering his eyes.

  ‘And how were things between the two of you before yesterday? When you were both at the car park I couldn’t help noticing frostiness.’

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ he lied.

  She laid her palms flat on the table. ‘Take it from someone who’s been through two divorces, what I saw was far from fine. This job … it puts a strain on even the strongest of relationships. The hours can be shit, but it’s more than that. It’s the knowledge that the world is a terrifying place, and being unable to share those experiences with the ones you love for fear of dragging them into the mire.’ Her cheeks flushed as she realized she’d overstepped the mark. ‘You need each other more than ever now.’

  He forced eye contact. ‘Please don’t keep me out of the picture, ma’am. I can be useful. Nobody knows my daughter better than I do. I promise not to go off half-cocked, and to work as part of the team, but please don’t leave me out in the cold.’

  ‘Ray, you know I don’t have a choice in the matter. It’s a massive conflict of interest to have you anywhere near the Incident Room.’

  ‘I can provide valuable intelligence, ma’am. Like-like-like mine and Alex’s schedules and the places we’ve been where the suspect may have first seen her.’

  ‘And as her father, I would expect you to provide those details to one of the investigative team, but you’re too close to this, Ray. Come on, don’t make this any harder than it already is. You’re a valuable member of my team, and I’d love your determination and experience on the case, but my hands are tied. If you push me on this, I’ll have no choice but to put you on leave until the case is closed.’ She paused and stared empathetically. ‘Of course, I don’t want to do that.’

  He knew there was no point in arguing with her, and he wasn’t surprised by her stance, but Trent had always been a reasonable governor, and he had hoped to convince her of his usefulness.

  ‘Before you go, there’s something else I need to ask: what were you doing at Gianni Demetrios’s casino last night?’

  His head snapped up and eyes widened. ‘How did you—?’

  She cut him off by dropping an A4-sized colour photograph on the desk. Ray immediately recognized Demetrios’s office from the night before. He could see why Trent had concerns.

  ‘Where did you get this from?’

  ‘It was emailed to me in the early hours of this morning. It was a taunt, with the subject line, “Who polices the police?”. Do you realize how badly this reflects on me and the unit? I’ve spent two years trying to nail that son of a bitch, and now it looks like members of my team are cozying up to him.’

  ‘It’s just a photograph. It doesn’t mean anything.’

  ‘No, but it’s what it implies. What were you talking to him about?’

  ‘He knows the worst of the worst,’ Ray tried to explain. ‘And I thought if anybody had been planning to get back at me for something, then he might know about it, or be able to point me in the right direction.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘Is that what you think happened yesterday? That someone you once banged up snatched your daughter to … what … get revenge?’

  He looked at her sheepishly.

  She ripped up the photograph and dropped the pieces in her waste bin. ‘I’ve seconded PC Isla Murphy to act as Family Liaison. I sent
her to your place this morning and she’s messaged to say she’s made contact with Alex.’ She paused, standing and offering him a sincere look. ‘Take my advice, Ray: go home, and get yourself cleaned up. Maybe it would be better if you took a couple of days off. Spend it with Alex. Console and reassure her. She needs you now more than ever; you need each other.’ She pointed at the door – her cue that the meeting was over.

  Pulling the tie back over his head, he walked to the exit. Stumbling out into the fresh air, he made his way along the road to a newsagents where he purchased a sandwich, a bottle of juice, a packet of gum and a fresh carton of cigarettes. He needed to focus. Despite Trent’s reservations, there was no way he was prepared to sit back while his daughter was still out there needing him.

  11

  Stepping out of the shower, Alex couldn’t ignore the overwhelming feeling of guilt sweeping through her core. How could she be acting so normally when Carol-Anne was out there, alone and in huge danger? As much as the sheer terror remained, no further tears would flow; as if she had no more tears to give. What did that mean? Had some part of her subconscious mind already given up hope that Carol-Anne would return safely home?

  Taking a deep breath, she shook the thought from her mind and, wiping condensation from the mirror with the edge of her towel, she stared at the tired-looking reflection in the mirror.

  How could you be so stupid? How could you turn your back on her? How could you allow someone to take her?

  It still didn’t feel real. Tying a smaller towel around her wet hair, she almost expected to hear the sweet giggle coming from the bedroom next door. As she opened the bathroom door, she was only greeted by silence.

  Isla had decided to dial into the team brief from her car, and Alex could see her head bobbing inside the small red car in the driveway. She could only hope that there was positive news. For a city supposedly covered in security and traffic cameras, one of them had to have captured the moment it had happened. Or the vehicle the culprit had used to make their escape.

  Alex had replayed the events over and over in her mind as the hot water had thundered against her neck and shoulders. Could she have done something differently? As soon as she’d realized Carol-Anne was missing, could she have done more? She had checked the immediate vicinity, but why hadn’t she gone from car to car, looking for anyone who might have been restraining a frightened child?

  Reliving the nightmare was doing nothing to ease the pain and guilt of her reckless choice. Even if her face was masking that burden, every muscle could feel it weighing her down.

  Ray had yet to return any of her calls or messages. She knew his words in the back of the car had been delivered in anger, and that he had probably regretted them the moment they had spewed, yet that didn’t make them any less hurtful. Why hadn’t he come home yet? Was he chasing down a lead? Maybe it was a positive sign that he had yet to message her: maybe Trent and her team had already identified the culprit and were fast on their way to make an arrest. And maybe that was why Isla was nodding in the car.

  Throwing on tracksuit bottoms and a vest top, Alex didn’t have a clue about how to spend the day. Her car was still with the police technicians, so she couldn’t go anywhere, and even if she had the car, she wasn’t sure there was anywhere she would want to go. It was at times like this that she missed her mum and dad the most. And having been an only child, she had no close family she could speak to. She probably should call Ray’s sister and tell her what had happened, but how could she even begin to explain?

  As she prepared to head back downstairs, she couldn’t resist the urge to go into Carol-Anne’s room, inhaling her daughter’s smell. The tiny bed was neatly made, as it had been yesterday, and each of Carol-Anne’s favourite teddies were resting against the edge of the frame.

  Apart from one.

  Carol-Anne had insisted on taking Ballet Bunny in the car with them. The bunny, about ten inches long, wearing a bright pink tutu, was the first toy Alex had bought when she’d learned she was expecting a girl. To Alex’s amazement, Carol-Anne had never been without it. She had tried to clean the bunny in the washing machine last year, but Carol-Anne had sobbed at the prospect. As a result, she’d chosen to handwash the bunny since then, with Carol-Anne attentively supervising the procedure.

  Alex made a mental note to ensure she collected the bunny from the team scrutinizing her car. She would give the bunny an extra-careful wash, so she would be fresh and clean for when Carol-Anne returned. Taking a final look around the room at the array of photographs on the wall, Alex tried to focus on her positivity; assuming the worst would only invite negativity into their lives; she had to believe that Carol-Anne would be found, and for the first time since the incident, Alex felt a glimmer of hope.

  The sound of knocking at the door indicated that Isla’s call was probably over. Galloping down the stairs, and opening the door, Alex was surprised to see Sophie on the doorstep, holding a cardboard tray of coffee cups, and a bag of fresh doughnuts.

  ‘Oh good, you’re up,’ Sophie said, smiling awkwardly. ‘I wanted to apologize for last night. You needed a friend and I wasn’t much help. I’m here whenever you want someone to talk to or vent at. Okay? You can call on me at any time of the day, and I’ll be there. It’s the least I can do after what you did for me before. Have you eaten yet? I brought breakfast.’

  Alex stepped back and allowed her to enter. ‘Aren’t you working today?’

  ‘I’m not due in until this afternoon. To be honest I didn’t sleep well last night after what you told me, so I got up and went for a run to clear my head. And then I spotted the bakery on my way back and thought you might need something to keep your energy levels up.’

  Alex pulled her into a grateful hug.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘For not telling me I’m a lousy mother who deserves everything she gets.’

  Sophie handed her one of the cups. ‘What kind of friend would I be if I did that?’

  Before Alex could reply, Isla appeared on the doorstep.

  ‘Any news?’ Alex asked hopefully.

  Isla gave Sophie a cautionary look. ‘Nothing so far … the team have a number of avenues they are going to be pursuing today, which is positive. DI Trent plans to hold another briefing later this evening, so we should know more then.’

  Alex introduced the two women.

  ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about privately, Alex,’ Isla began, giving Sophie another cautious look.

  Sophie gave Alex a quick hug. ‘I’d better get out of your hair anyway. If you need anything – and I mean anything – just call me. I’m meeting Noemi at the gym, but I’m only a phone call away.’

  Alex had hoped Sophie would stay, but felt awkward asking; the last thing Sophie needed was a neighbour on the verge of a nervous breakdown, particularly if she’d already made plans with Noemi.

  ‘DI Trent thinks it would be a good idea to make an early public appeal for information,’ Isla said when they were alone.

  ‘You want me to go on television?’

  Isla shook her head. ‘No, we would handle it in-house at this stage: a formal statement released to various UK media outlets, a copy of Carol-Anne’s picture shared for publication in newspapers and regional news programmes. The thing is: the CCTV footage of the area isn’t great, and while the team will continue to search for any images from the surrounding area at the time Carol-Anne was taken, a public appeal might help identify potential eyewitnesses who either saw the act, or maybe can describe anyone suspicious hanging around the car park.’

  ‘Great. Okay. Do it,’ Alex said enthusiastically. ‘If it helps bring her back sooner, then go ahead. I’m surprised you’ve even asked for my permission.’

  Isla’s nose wrinkled. ‘I have to advise you that there can be repercussions from an appeal of this nature.’

  Alex frowned. ‘What kind of repercussions?’

  Isla considered her next words carefully. ‘For all the benefits of social media conn
ectivity in situations like this, trolling is still a major issue that’s hard to manage. Even if we don’t name you in the campaign, and only share Carol-Anne’s image and story, nothing stays secret forever, and these things can spread like wildfire.’

  ‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it? I mean if everyone is talking about Carol-Anne and sharing her picture that can only be good.’

  Isla ground her teeth. ‘You need to be prepared for an almighty backlash. Given the nature of what happened yesterday, there are plenty of mothers who will empathize with what has happened, and there will also be plenty who will call you names and deride you for leaving your daughter unsupervised in that car. I’m not judging you, Alex, but others will. So, to that end, our advice is for you to delete, or at least suspend any of your social media accounts: Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, or wherever else you have a digital footprint. Such an appeal is going to thrust you firmly into the spotlight, and once it’s out there, there will be no going back.’

  ‘I’m prepared to do whatever it takes to get her back,’ Alex said firmly. ‘Even if it means I get lynched, we’ve got to try everything.’

  Isla nodded her understanding. ‘Okay, well can I ask you to find me a recent picture of Carol-Anne that we can distribute? It should be a full-body shot if possible, and preferably something which captures her essence in your eyes. Whoever has her may be using larger clothes and hats to disguise her appearance, so we need something that would shine through disguises like that. Okay?’

  Alex raced up the stairs, bursting back into Carol-Anne’s room and immediately scanning the walls for something suitable. As her eyes danced over the images, she heard a noise that chilled her bones: the unmistakeable sound of a little girl giggling.

  12

  The bus, packed full of antisocial children on their way to school, finally dropped Ray at the stop at the end of his road. He already had a cigarette between his lips as he stepped off the vehicle, and it was lit before his second foot hit the pavement. Public transport wasn’t his preferred method of travel, most usually bumming a lift home from Owen, but at least he’d managed to grab ten minutes’ kip before the first of the screaming and chattering groups had got on. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than being a school teacher and being subjected to six continuous hours of enthusiastic disobedience. He’d far rather spend a day sitting outside a suspect’s premises waiting for something to happen; surveillance was boring, yet peaceful.