Little Girl Gone

by Stephen Edger

  ‘From post offices to bookies?’ Ray mused. ‘Seems like a backwards step if you ask me.’

  ‘Didn’t realize you were such a snob,’ Jodie replied, picking up on his dismissive tone. ‘I’d bet they picked up more loose cash in this raid than their last three post office jobs combined.’

  Presenting their identification to the uniformed officer standing closest to the cones, they ducked below the cordon tape as he lifted it for them.

  ‘Is the shop manager inside?’ Ray asked, and the officer pointed towards a short, rotund man with a rapidly receding hairline. Although he was wearing a shirt and tie, his belly hung over his trousers and he gave the impression of someone who tried hard but would never look professional.

  Keeping his identification aloft, Ray approached him with a welcoming smile. ‘Mr Papadopoulos? I’m Detective Sergeant Ray Granger, and this is my colleague, DS Jodie Crichton. Would you mind telling us what happened here?’

  Papadopoulos gave them both a withering look. ‘Some twats robbed me.’ The voice lacked any semblance of an accent, despite the foreign name.

  ‘Can you tell us exactly what happened?’

  Papadopoulos sighed. ‘Can we do this outside so I can smoke?’

  Ray nodded and followed as Papadopoulos led them through to the office behind the counter and then out of a back door into a small bricked yard, barely large enough for the three of them to stand without rubbing shoulders.

  ‘Every day we cash up at four p.m. and nine p.m.,’ Papadopoulos continued as he sparked up, ‘but yesterday one of my girls called in sick, and I didn’t have resources to do the early bank drop, so I put it in the safe. At 8.57, the shop was empty, save for me and the student who does the evening shift, so I made a start. Which is when the three men burst into the place.’

  ‘Can you describe the men to me?’ Ray asked, pulling out his notebook and pen.

  ‘One of them, the one who shot out the window, he seemed to be in charge. He stayed by the door the whole time, and kept looking at his watch.’

  ‘Can you describe the watch for me?’

  ‘I didn’t get a good look. A wristwatch.’

  ‘Was he tall, short, fat, thin?’

  ‘Average. Taller than me; muscly.’

  ‘Taller than me?’

  Papadopoulos considered Ray for a moment. ‘Yeah, maybe a couple of inches taller than you. It’s hard to remember as I was shitting my pants at the time, you know?’

  Ray watched him cautiously. ‘I understand. What about the other two men?’

  Papadopoulos shrugged. ‘They were about the same height, but one was much thinner than the other two; kind of weedy. He was the one who pushed the tip of the gun against my nose.’

  ‘Is there anything else you can remember about them? Any distinguishing scars, tattoos, unusual accents? Anything at all?’

  ‘They were dressed in black clothing and wore balaclavas. You could have been one of them for all I know.’

  Ray wasn’t laughing. ‘I noticed you have security cameras inside. Can we have the footage from those for the last week? If they were casing the joint in advance, it’s possible your cameras captured them without their disguises.’

  Papadopoulos looked like a man under intense pressure as he finished his cigarette and immediately lit a second. ‘Sure. Take whatever you need.’

  ‘Have you managed to calculate how much was taken yet?’

  Papadopoulos fixed him with an angry look. ‘Close to eighty thousand.’

  Ray was surprised the figure was so high. ‘Is that a regular intake for a weekday?’

  ‘Average. Ordinarily two-thirds of that would have already been deposited at the bank.’

  ‘Who’s the girl who called in sick yesterday?’

  ‘Delilah.’

  ‘Surname?’

  ‘I’ll write it down for you. She’s Polish.’ He grabbed the pen and scribbled the name in the pad.

  ‘Have you heard from her today?’

  ‘She’s still sick.’

  ‘And you trust her?’

  ‘Of course.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘You think she’s involved?’

  ‘I wouldn’t rule out anything at this stage, Mr Papadopoulos. Could just be coincidence, so don’t jump to any conclusions. Can you jot down her address for me too?’

  Papadopoulos obliged, and Ray left him where he was chain-smoking his third.

  Jodie was already in the office studying the security footage on the monitor. They stood and watched as the three men burst through the door, reminiscent to the footage captured at the post office on Friday, which Jodie had showed him on the way over. The leader remained by the door, the window bursting as he fired into it, glass dispersing into the shop as well as onto the street outside. A vehicle bumper could be seen just outside the window shrouded in orange as the indicator flashed.

  The thin guy was carrying a semi-automatic, although it was hard to distinguish make and model from the grainy footage. Papadopoulos was just off camera, but his trembling hands were in shot as the lad pushed the weapon into his face and demanded the takings from the safe. The third guy disappeared from shot, presumably filling his bag with proceeds from the till out of frame. As three minutes approached, the man by the door raised his arm and the other two followed him out of the shop. The bumper outside pulled away and Papadopoulos tentatively appeared on the screen.

  Ray paused the screen. ‘Well?’

  ‘How much did he say they took?’

  ‘Reckons close to eighty grand.’

  ‘I told you so,’ she said. ‘People don’t realize just how much these places make.’

  Ray ejected the disk and scanned the shelf, reading the labels on the DVD cases, before picking out the most recent five. ‘I said we’d review last weeks’ worth in case they’ve been casing the joint.’ He passed her the cases, and she placed them inside a large evidence bag. ‘Are there any traffic cameras outside? We need to get an ID on the getaway vehicle.’

  ‘Already put a call in to the ROMANSE centre for that. They’re going to send over everything they’ve got.’

  ‘Do you really think this is connected to the crew from Friday?’

  Puzzlement gripped her face. ‘You don’t?’

  He shook his head. ‘The MO is certainly similar, but there are too many discrepancies for me. For one thing, there are only three of them inside. You said it’s usually four inside and one getaway driver.’

  ‘Maybe they decided they only needed three because the venue is smaller than the post offices. Or maybe one of them was ill.’

  ‘Okay, how do you explain the timing discrepancy?’

  ‘What discrepancy? They were in for exactly three minutes again. You saw the timer as well as I did.’

  ‘Not the time, but the method of measuring it. You said the leader used a stopwatch hanging around his neck, whereas this guy is looking at his wristwatch.’

  She blushed at having missed that detail. ‘Again, maybe he left it at home in error. Criminals are prone to making mistakes.’

  ‘Okay, why did they shoot out the window?’

  ‘To show they meant business.’

  ‘Have they fired a shot on any of the other jobs?’

  Jodie thought for a moment. ‘No.’

  ‘And finally, you said they always use a stolen van with false plates as their chosen getaway vehicle. I know it isn’t obvious from the video, but I would put serious money on that bumper belonging to a hatchback, rather than a van. The traffic cameras should confirm it. That’s four rather significant details if you ask me. I think we’re looking at a copycat gang here.’

  ‘How would they know all the other details about the MO?’

  Ray shrugged. ‘Newspaper coverage maybe? I’m telling you, my gut says this is not the same crew. And my gut is also screaming that this lot are far worse: they’re going to shoot someone eventually. We need to catch up with them sooner rather than later.’

  ‘Okay, where do you propose we start?’r />
  ‘The ill shop assistant. Let’s go and see what Delilah knows about what happened yesterday.’

  Jodie nodded and peeled out of the office, and Ray realized that for the briefest of moments, Carol-Anne’s face hadn’t been the only thing on his mind.

  By the time they reached the car, it was all he could do not to crash to his knees as the pain and fear for her tugged at his heart strings once again.

  15

  ‘I need to clear my head,’ Alex said, suddenly standing.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Isla offered.

  ‘No,’ Alex quickly replied. ‘Please, I’d rather be on my own.’

  Isla gave her a curious look. ‘Where will you be going? I need to know how and where to get hold of you in case of any sudden developments.’

  ‘I’m just going to walk to the local shop,’ Alex explained. ‘I’m sorry, I know it’s selfish, but I just need some kind of normality for a moment. I’ll only be ten or so minutes.’

  Isla didn’t look convinced, though eventually nodded. ‘Very well, but if you’re going to be longer, I want you to call and let me know.’

  Alex pulled on her trainers at the front door. Although cloud coverage was heavy, she opted not to reach for a coat.

  One of the neighbours across the road was washing his car and waved in Alex’s direction as she passed. She nodded in his direction, but didn’t stop to chat. The air smelt heavy with damp, a sign that more rain wasn’t far away. She ignored the urge to return home.

  It felt so strange being outside in the daytime on her own buying milk and bread from the shop. Usually leaving the house was a carefully devised operation – making sure she had changes of clothes, spare nappies, snacks and drinks for Carol-Anne, all carefully secreted in various compartments in her pushchair. It was hard not to imagine what she would have been doing now if Carol-Anne was with her. Wednesday was when the two of them usually went to a local playgroup for toddlers. Carol-Anne loved playing with the musical instruments provided by the group organizer.

  They usually walked to the event, stopping at the nearby bakery for bread on the way home, and if Carol-Anne had been good – or more likely when Alex fancied it – she would buy them a cake as a small treat.

  Having eaten one of the doughnuts Sophie had brought round with her for breakfast, it didn’t feel right to visit the bakery now. The pressure had just got too much to bear – she’d needed to get out of the quiet and empty house.

  How many times had she wished for a few minutes of peace and quiet when Carol-Anne had been having a tantrum? She now felt so guilty about ever wishing for time away from her daughter. Although she’d enjoyed being a full-time mother, and was grateful that Ray’s salary had allowed such a move, she had missed the daily routine of work, which was why she’d been so keen to find a part-time job that allowed her to have the best of both worlds. Now it felt like karma or some other force had taken its revenge for her wanting to be more than just a mum.

  She stopped still.

  What was wrong with her? All morning she’d been telling herself to remain positive, yet every second thought was focused on dealing with a future without Carol-Anne in it. Isla had said in four of the five cases she’d been involved in the child had been returned unharmed. Those were good odds, and it was far too cynical to fear the worst.

  With that thought, Alex left the shop, spun on her heel, and upped the pace as her house came into view once more. It was time to stop feeling sorry for herself and focus on reestablishing her routine. There was a ton of washing she needed to do, and once the appeal was broadcast later, there was bound to be at least one witness who would come forward with details of who had taken Carol-Anne.

  Right?

  When they did, there was a chance Carol-Anne could be back home with them that evening. And when her daughter was back, she would sit Ray down for a proper conversation about their future. Carol-Anne should have both her parents in her life, and Alex felt ready to fight for that stability for her little girl.

  She was practically buzzing as she stepped back in through the front door, until she saw the blood drain from Isla’s face as she tentatively held a phone to her ear.

  ‘You’d better sit down,’ Isla said as she hung up the call. ‘There’s been an arrest.’

  16

  Tower blocks dominated the skyline as Ray and Jodie arrived in Millbrook, after an uncomfortable silence on the journey over. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to her, he just couldn’t figure out what to say; small talk had never been one of his strengths, and he couldn’t concentrate on anything but his daughter.

  ‘I grew up on an estate like this,’ Jodie mused, staring up at the thirty-storey building directly above them. ‘It was always worse in a storm. You could literally feel the building shaking as the wind buffeted it.’

  ‘You’re from Millbrook then, are you?’ It was rhetorical; an acknowledgement rather than an attempt to stimulate conversation.

  ‘No, I grew up near Streatham, in south London. Lived there with my dad until I was eight, before we moved down this way.’

  Ray feigned interest. ‘Was he from this neck of the woods?’

  ‘No, he was concerned with gang culture in London, and when his employer decided to relocate offices to Southampton, he decided it was the fresh start we needed.’ She opened her door to get out before pausing and looking back at him.

  ‘He sounds like a sensible man.’

  ‘He was. He died when I was still young.’

  Ray looked at her, feeling the need to apologize, but she spoke again before he had the chance.

  ‘I wanted to tell you how sorry I was to hear about … you know. You’re certainly coping better than I would be.’

  It didn’t feel like he was coping. If he was any decent man he’d be home supporting his wife as she needed, rather than conceding to the emotional strain to show. ‘Let’s just get on with this, shall we?’

  She nodded, accepting that their one and only conversation about his situation was now closed off, not to be revisited.

  Grey clouds swirled overhead in stark contrast to the early morning clear skies. The grass verges bordering the pavements were torn up with tyre tracks from the variety of vehicles that parked up on them overnight. The door into the tower block was boarded up where the glass should have been. Finding Delilah’s flat number, Jodie pressed the door buzzer, and despite two attempts and two minutes’ wait, there was no response.

  ‘Maybe she’s out,’ Jodie offered.

  ‘Or hiding,’ Ray replied, noticing a shiny new black Mercedes parked in a disabled bay not far from the communal bins. ‘Looks a bit out of place, doesn’t it?’ he said, nodding at the car.

  Jodie considered it with a shrug. ‘Could just be visiting someone.’

  A young woman struggling with a pushchair appeared on the other side of the door, pushing it open with her bottom. Jodie held the handle while Ray lifted the pushchair out. The woman thanked them with a wary look.

  ‘Don’t worry, we’re police,’ Ray said, showing his identification, before following Jodie through the door. He cursed when he saw the ‘Out of Order’ notice hanging from the lift doors. ‘What floor is she on?’

  ‘Seventh. Could be worse.’

  As they reached the seventh floor Ray was puffing badly, and he suddenly remembered why he’d given up smoking the first time. There wasn’t a bead of sweat on Jodie, who’d taken the fire escape stairs two at a time and had been waiting for him to catch up.

  ‘Do you need a minute before we proceed?’ she teased, but he didn’t have the breath to argue as she set off along the balcony, reading the door numbers until she reached ‘7H’.

  Banging on the door, they were surprised when it opened a moment later and a tall black man dressed in a thick dark overcoat, with a nose that looked bent out of shape, ducked beneath the doorframe.

  He didn’t stop to consider them, pushing past Jodie. Ray recognized him as one of the bouncers from Demetrios’s casin
o last night; a fact he held back from sharing with his colleague.

  He continued to watch as the man left the building, climbed behind the wheel of the shiny black Mercedes and pulled away.

  ‘Problem?’ Jodie asked, her foot keeping the door to Delilah’s flat open.

  ‘Not sure yet,’ he replied heading inside, leaving the door open.

  Rolling her eyes, Jodie proceeded into the flat, explaining who they were. With peeling wallpaper, the tiny corridor was dimly lit, with a small living room to the right, and a kitchendiner to the left. Delilah was in the bathroom at the far end, the bruising beneath her left eye fresh.

  ‘The guy who just left do that to you?’ Ray asked, ready to put a call in to uniform and have the Mercedes pulled over.

  Giving her eye a quick glance in the mirror doors of the medicine cabinet, Delilah washed her hands in the basin before leading them back to the living room. ‘Can I ask why you’re here?’

  ‘Your boss, Mr Papadopoulos, gave us your address,’ Ray explained when she was seated. ‘Your place of work was hit by an armed gang last night. Did he tell you?’

  She looked from Ray to Jodie, and back again, before shaking her head.

  ‘They stole close to eighty grand,’ Ray continued, running his tongue over his front teeth. ‘Your boss was still pretty shaken up this morning.’

  Delilah’s face remained unmoved by the news.

  ‘You were lucky not to be there,’ he concluded, narrowing his eyes, hoping for any kind of reaction.

  Delilah continued to stare blankly at them.

  Squeezing into the sofa next to Delilah, Jodie deliberately allowed their knees to touch. ‘In robberies like this, where the perpetrators seem to have inside knowledge of procedures and are able to strike at the most opportune of moments, well …’ she allowed the implication to hang in there, before confirming it. ‘The first place we look is employees with an axe to grind with their employer.’

  ‘You think I had something to do with the robbery?’ Delilah asked, her eyes widening with the horror of what was being suggested.