Little Girl Gone

by Stephen Edger

  56

  The adrenaline coursed through every sinew in Ray’s body as he hammered the accelerator, rarely releasing it for bends and traffic lights.

  ‘Jesus Christ, Ray!’ Owen bellowed as he gripped the safety handle above his head.

  ‘Where’s the mobile signal now?’ Ray barked, without taking his eyes off the road ahead.

  ‘It’s come to a stop, not far from the centre of Salisbury. Should I try and phone it?’

  ‘God, no! We don’t want to tip her off. Try Alex’s phone again.’

  Owen punched in the number and held it to his ear. ‘It’s gone straight to answerphone. Either she’s on a call, or she’s switched it off.’

  Ray had never known Alex turn off her phone. It was permanently on, even at night because – in her words – you never knew when bad news would come.

  ‘And her phone is in the same area?’ Ray questioned.

  ‘According to the cell phone tower. The two phones are practically on top of one another.’

  Ray crossed lanes to overtake a camper van, only just managing to get back over before an oncoming car collided with them.

  ‘I know you’re worried about Alex,’ Owen warned, ‘but we need to get there in one piece.’

  Ray’s mind was no longer on his own safety. Something hadn’t felt right since Tuesday. At first he’d put it down to his personal conflicting emotions about Alex’s part in Carol-Anne’s abduction. Now things were starting to make more sense. She’d pretended to show little interest in the return of his daughter. She’d asked how Alex and he were coping, but never anything specific about Carol-Anne. He’d put it down to her immaturity – not understanding the extent of the parental bond – and now he could see it had just been a smokescreen to keep him from connecting the dots sooner. He didn’t want to believe that Jodie and Simone could be one and the same person, but there were too many clues to ignore. And if she was indeed one of Whitchurch’s victims, and had been biding her time to get revenge, then there was no knowing what lengths she would go to in order to get her revenge.

  Someone who understood the inner workings of an investigation, someone smart enough to know how to mask her IP address and send messages. Someone who would manipulate it so Ray would join her on a separate investigation, giving her insight into how he and Alex were coping.

  Would Jodie really be able to kill Carol-Anne if Alex didn’t go through with the demands? That was the only part of the puzzle that didn’t fit in his mind. Even if Jodie’s personality had become warped by what Whitchurch had done to her as a child, he couldn’t see her capable of taking another person’s life, let alone that of an innocent child. Then, an hour ago, he never would have pegged her as capable of abducting Carol-Anne and threatening him and Alex.

  That brought him to the question he’d been avoiding asking since they’d tumbled out of the station and into the car: what was Alex doing in Salisbury? She wasn’t familiar with the city as far as he knew, and without a car and with everything else going on, it wasn’t like she would go there for retail therapy. There was only one reason he could think of, and as he overtook a second vehicle, he dared himself to ask Owen.

  ‘Whitchurch was moved to Salisbury, wasn’t he?’

  Owen’s wide-eyed stare answered the question for him. ‘I can’t tell—’

  ‘Cut the crap, Owen! There’s no other reason why Alex and Jodie would both be there right now. He’s there, isn’t he?’

  Owen sighed in frustration. ‘Yes, he is. There’s only a handful of people who know that. Okay? Even when it was mentioned in the team brief the other day, we insinuated he was still in Hampshire, when in fact we’d moved him to Wiltshire. His location and new identity have been top secret.’

  ‘And you haven’t discussed it with Jodie Crichton at any point?’

  ‘No, I swear to you. I know, and DI Trent knows, and then just a couple of uniforms.’

  ‘Well if her phone is there, it’s a reasonable assumption that she found out somehow.’

  He thought back to the conversation he’d had with her earlier that morning. She’d called in a blind panic to say Papadopoulos was on his way to the airport, and hadn’t wanted to admit why she wasn’t at his flat, or why she couldn’t tail him to the airport. She’d never made it back to the station, so he hadn’t been able to question her about it after the arrest. It wasn’t her scheduled day off, and she hadn’t called in sick, so what the hell was she now doing in Salisbury, almost next to his wife?

  ‘Two minutes out,’ Owen jabbered into his radio, as Trent demanded an update.

  ‘Earlier this morning, Alex sent me that message about the FLO and her son,’ Ray questioned. ‘Did you follow up on it?’

  ‘I was, but then Trent told me to drop everything and focus on Whitchurch’s victims. Trent said she would handle it directly.’

  Ray pulled across the road to overtake a caravan. He hated what he had become, and there was no forgiveness he could seek for any of his extramarital wanderings. Alex deserved better. Carol-Anne deserved better. And in that moment he made a vow to the God he didn’t believe in: if they both came back safe and alive, he would do whatever was expected of him. He would be a better father, and if Alex would still have him he would spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

  ‘Right, slow down,’ Owen ordered. ‘It should be just around this bend …’

  Ray dragged the car around the corner, releasing his foot from the accelerator, not touching the brake. Up ahead a two-storey car park – surrounded by tall wooden fences – the roof of which could still just be seen.

  ‘This can’t be it,’ Ray said with a confused tone.

  ‘These are the coordinates,’ Owen confirmed. ‘Maybe they’re around the rear of the site. Looks like some kind of development is planned.’

  Ray continued around the next corner where there was still no sign of Jodie or Alex. Then as they turned to the third side of the square site, he spotted two cars parked at the side of the road, and beside one of them was a familiar face. Flooring the accelerator, he skidded the car as close to the front of the vehicle as he could manage without hitting it, and was out of his seat a second later. As he approached the stationary vehicle, and saw a shocked-looking Jodie beside it, he froze as his eyes fell on the precious child giggling to herself inside.

  Ray dropped to his knees as his legs gave way. Pinching himself in case it was the cruellest of dreams, it took him a moment to regain his composure.

  Owen helped him to his feet.

  ‘Thank God you two are here,’ Jodie began, ‘I was just about to call it in.’

  Ray looked from his daughter to the woman he’d once considered a friend. ‘What are you doing here, Jodie? What are you doing with that phone?’

  ‘I was tailing someone when I came across this little girl in the car. I was just about to call when you appeared.’

  Ray pushed past her, opening the door, terrified that the mirage of his daughter would disappear when he reached for her, but her eyes lit up as they met his and she uttered the words he’d been longing to hear.

  ‘Da-da, da-da.’

  His fingers trembled as they fiddled with the belt around her middle, and he silently cursed as his sweaty fingertips failed to unfasten the clasp. Finally it came apart, and he pulled her out, breathing in her scent, unable to believe he was holding her again. He held her close, and in that split second the world around them dissolved and it was just the two of them lost in the magic of unbreakable love.

  ‘Listen guys,’ Jodie interrupted, ‘I heard a gunshot a few seconds ago. And I think it came from inside. We need to get in there.’

  Ray kept his eyes closed, determined to save the memory of the moment for the long-term.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Jodie repeated. ‘There was a gunshot from inside the site. We need to go and investigate.’

  Owen looked from her to Ray. ‘Sarge?’

  Ray finally opened his eyes, checking that Carol-Anne was still in his
arms, taking the opportunity to kiss the top of her head as his eyes watered. Then, taking a deep breath, he turned his attention back to Jodie, unsure what to say to her, angry that she was continuing to keep the pretence up, even though they’d caught her red-handed.

  ‘Call it in to Trent,’ he said to Owen, his eyes never leaving Jodie’s. ‘Tell her my daughter is safe, and we’ve apprehended Simone.’

  57

  ‘Carol-Anne! Carol-Anne!’ Alex yelled at the screen as it shook in her hands. ‘Give me back my daughter!’

  The call had been ended. The picture of Carol-Anne was gone, and with it the connection to Simon. Five yards away, Jack Whitchurch wailed in agony, a puddle of crimson spreading from where he lay. Alex looked down at the gun, lying on the floor where she’d discarded it, her mind racing to understand what had just happened.

  She hadn’t meant to squeeze the trigger. In fact, she couldn’t even be sure her finger had been within the trigger guard, yet she had felt the recoil as it had fired, and the explosive sound which had reverberated off the low ceiling. She had dropped the weapon instinctively, desperate to make sure it didn’t fire a second time. What was supposed to happen now? She’d shot Whitchurch – even if she hadn’t intended to – and with the line dead, Simon was gone. Shouldn’t he be calling back to confirm where she could find Carol-Anne? That had been the deal, but had it been his plan all along to deceive her?

  Whitchurch cried out again.

  Alex had shot him, and if he died it would be at her hands. She couldn’t allow that to happen. Even if Carol-Anne was close by, she couldn’t turn her back on the wounded man right in front of her. It wasn’t in her nature to be so cruel.

  Pressing her hands into the cold concrete floor, Alex forced herself upwards, willing her legs to move closer to him, her eyes darting in all directions as her mind still refused to process the situation.

  He was on his back, facing towards her, and the puddle of blood was emanating from the side closest to her. The bottom half of his sky-blue shirt was stained with blood, and the stain was spreading further up his shirt as the material acted like blotting paper. His hands dripped with blood too where he had attempted to somehow stem the blood. Without proper treatment he wouldn’t last long. Alex knew little about first aid. She could put someone in the recovery position but that wouldn’t help him now.

  Stumbling closer, she dropped to her knees, away from the blood, and scoured her memory for anything that would prove useful. If she’d struck him in the arm or leg, she would use her scarf to make a ligature and stem the blood. A shot to the abdomen wouldn’t be as straightforward.

  ‘Ambulance,’ Whitchurch muttered, his lips dry, his cheeks paling by the second.

  ‘Yes, of course,’ Alex replied, scrambling to unlock her phone and call the emergency services. The phone fell from her hands as she struggled to control her trembling fingers. Sliding the scarf from her neck, she dared to press it where she assumed the wound was below his shirt, and he winced as she pressed harder.

  ‘We need to stop you bleeding,’ she tried to pacify him.

  ‘I can’t believe you shot me,’ he mumbled in disbelief.

  ‘I know, I know, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do it. Don’t worry, it’s all going to be okay. I’ll call an ambulance and they’ll save you. Okay?’

  Alex wasn’t convinced by her tone and doubted Whitchurch was either. Moving his hand so it held the scarf in position, she unlocked the phone and dialled 999.

  ‘Hang up the phone,’ a familiar voice called from over her shoulder.

  Alex instantly tensed, but she held onto the phone.

  ‘I said: hang up the phone,’ the voice repeated, as footsteps approached.

  Alex dared herself to turn and look, confusion taking hold as her eyes met Sophie’s. ‘What are you …? Never mind. You changed your mind and decided to help me. He’s been shot. We need to get him to hospital …’ Alex’s words trailed off as her eyes fell upon the gun, no longer on the floor where she’d left it, now in Sophie’s hands and pointing straight at them.

  ‘Hang up the phone, Alex. You’ve done what was asked of you. Move away from him.’

  The fog of confusion remained where it was, and it was only Whitchurch’s groaning as he moved for a better look that snapped her back to reality.

  ‘You!’ he spluttered, his lips cracking.

  Sophie turned her attention to him. ‘You recognize me then? I wasn’t sure you would after so long. I’m older now; my hair is a different colour and length. A small part of me suspected you would remember my eyes. That was always your thing, wasn’t it, Jack? You liked to stare into the eyes of your victims while you satisfied yourself.’

  Alex’s mouth opened and closed, but no words would emerge.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d go through with it,’ Sophie continued, her stare falling on Alex. ‘That’s why I had to come here myself. I underestimated you. Were you aiming for an artery?’

  A warm tear ran down Alex’s cheek as the truth became apparent.

  ‘A slow and painful death,’ Sophie added. ‘It’s no less than he deserves.’

  ‘H-h-h-how? Why? I don’t … You were the one behind all this? Where’s Carol-Anne?’

  ‘She’s close by. If you’re lucky you might get to see her once more before they arrest you.’

  Alex’s blood ran cold. ‘You said you’d give her back to me.’

  A sickening smile broke out across Sophie’s face. ‘It’s out of my hands now. It seems unlikely that the police will give Carol-Anne back to someone who just shot and killed a man.’

  Alex’s gaze darted back to Whitchurch. He was still alive for now, but his breathing had become more laboured, and she had no idea how much longer he would survive untreated.

  58

  ‘Wait, this is your daughter?’ Jodie asked, glancing back to the car Ray and Owen had arrived in.

  Ray continued to hold Carol-Anne close to him. ‘Save it. Okay? Spare us the rest of your bullshit, Jodie. We know about your plan for Whitchurch. The game is up. How do you think we managed to track you here?’

  ‘Track me? I was following up on a lead.’

  Ray shook his head dismissively at her. ‘Don’t lie to me! We tracked you here. You’ve been in Salisbury for at least half an hour, and I want to know why. I also want to know why you abandoned your post outside Papadopoulos’s place this morning.’

  ‘Can we talk alone?’ she said, eyeing Owen guiltily.

  ‘No, whatever you have to say can be said in front of Owen. He knows why you’re here as well as I do.’

  ‘Please, Ray,’ she begged. ‘It’s for your sake.’

  ‘It’s fine,’ Owen offered. ‘I’ll go and see what’s going on up there.’ And with that he jogged back around the corner, ducking under the loose security chain and into the building site.

  Ray carried Carol-Anne back to the squad car. ‘I’m listening,’ he said impatiently, as Jodie joined him at the front of the vehicle.

  ‘This isn’t easy,’ she began, ‘and I know I should have said something to you sooner, but I wanted to be sure before I led everyone on a wild goose chase.’

  ‘Spit it out, Jodie. I don’t have time for your games. How is it you came to be standing next to a car where my missing daughter was strapped in?’

  Jodie looked up at the sky. ‘I was really pissed off with you for not coming to relieve me last night,’ she began, avoiding eye contact. ‘I stayed up all bloody night and you didn’t even have the decency to phone me back. I was so angry, and then I saw Papadopoulos emerge from his house and jump in the back of a taxi. It was one of those firms that specializes in airport trips, so I was pretty sure I knew where he was going. That’s why I phoned you and told you to get your arse there. The tyre on my car had burst and I didn’t have a spare, so I had to wait for the breakdown truck to tow me to a garage in the middle of nowhere. They replaced the tyre, and I was about to head to your place to give you a bloody piece of my min
d when I spotted someone I thought I recognized. I hadn’t seen her for years, and as I approached her to say hello, she acted strangely. She looked terrified to see me, and when I offered to buy her a coffee so we could catch up she said she had to get to work. It was all very odd. Considering what she’d been through, I wasn’t totally surprised.’

  ‘What does any of this have to do with you being in Salisbury?’

  ‘We were friends … must be seven, eight years ago. It was right after my dad died. I met her at a support group for grieving teenagers. We were about the same age, and had both lost our fathers tragically. I guess we just hit it off. Then after a year, she just disappeared, moved out of her flat and left without a word. I hadn’t heard from her since.

  ‘Anyway, she said she was late for work, so I gave her my card and asked her to give me a call if she wanted to catch up. And then the funniest thing happened: I heard a child crying from inside the house. It was strange as she’d once told me she couldn’t have children, so I wondered whether she’d adopted.

  ‘I asked her if I could meet the child, and she said she didn’t have the time, and would call me later. I returned to my car, and continued to watch as I saw her put the hooded child in the back seat and speed away. Her reaction to me was just so strange, and it spiked my interest. I decided to follow her, and this is where she ended up. I saw her get out of the car and take a phone call. She was chatting to the child in the back and then the next minute she took off, leaving the child there. Given everything that’s happened with you over the last week, I panicked and rushed over to the car to check the girl was okay. I was waiting for her to return, and warn her of the dangers of leaving a child unattended. And then you two showed up.’ She stared directly at him. ‘I swear it’s the truth, Ray!’

  Ray blinked several times. ‘This friend of yours, what’s her name?’

  Jodie fixed him with a defiant stare. ‘Simone Moreau. Do you know her?’

  Ray didn’t answer, trying to determine whether her appearance here was an alarming coincidence or whether she was just stalling for time.