by Michael Wood
‘He got violent?’
‘Not physically, but he turned red and I saw him clench his fists a few times.’
‘Bloody hell. Where’s Linda now?’
‘Craig put her to bed.’
‘Jesus,’ Matilda pinched the bridge of her nose hard. Sally had been growing stronger in recent months, but something like this could be a setback. ‘I’ll have to go round and see Sally later, check on how she’s doing.’
‘Don’t blame Linda, ma’am, she’s desperate. Craig said she’d never asked anyone for anything before in her life. All the special stuff they need for Riley, they’ve bought it all themselves, or raised the money. They’ve never asked for loans or handouts.’
‘I won’t. But she needs to be one hundred per cent focussed for this afternoon.’
‘She will be. I’ll talk to her,’ Ellen said with a placatory smile.
‘Any phone calls or emails?’
‘A few from family members. They’ve been using their mobiles though. I told them to keep the landline free. Oh, before I forget, the next-door neighbour came round earlier, Amanda Raine. She remembered Jodie said something to her last night and thought we should know. Apparently, when Jodie found out Keeley had been kidnapped, she asked her mum if Keeley had had PE yesterday with Mr Page.’
‘And had she?’
‘Yes.’
‘Why’s that significant?’
‘Jodie wouldn’t say.’
‘Ok. Let’s go and have a word with Jodie then.’
***
Riley’s bedroom had been adapted from the garage attached to the house. In one corner was an en suite wet room and opposite was a large framed bed with foam protectors so Riley wouldn’t hurt himself while he was asleep.
The room was equipped with soft lighting. The blind at the window was closed and in two corners were large colour-changing LED sensory mood bubble water towers which cast a soothing glow around the room.
On the carpet, Riley was sitting in a large bean bag. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt with a penguin on the front. His favourite toy, a penguin, was nestled in his lap. Opposite him, Jodie was blowing bubbles towards him. When they hit his face and burst, he giggled. This made Jodie smile. Other toys and teddy bears were strewn around the floor.
‘Are they tickling you, Riley?’ Jodie asked as he gurgled loudly. ‘Do you like the bubbles?’
‘Jodie, can we have a word?’ Matilda asked quietly from the doorway.
She looked over her shoulder and nodded. Riley didn’t register their presence.
‘This is a nice room,’ Matilda said.
‘It’s relaxing. Riley can get stressed at times. The changing colours, the bubbles, and the music help to calm him.’
‘How old is he?’ Matilda asked, even though she knew the answer.
‘Four. He goes to school in the new year. Only a couple of days a week. I’ll miss him.’
‘You look after him a lot, don’t you?’
‘No. Mum looks after him more.’ Jodie blew more bubbles. Riley giggled and clapped his hands.
Matilda sat down on the floor next to Jodie. ‘Jodie, I want to ask you about something you said yesterday. When you found out Keeley was missing, you mentioned a teacher. Mr Page? Who is he?’
‘He’s a teacher at Keeley’s school.’
‘Why did you mention him?’
‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged, blowing more bubbles. ‘Oops, Mr Penguin is getting wet,’ she said to Riley.
‘Jodie, do you think Mr Page might have something to do with Keeley going missing?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Then why bring him up?’
‘It’s … I don’t know.’
‘Jodie, you’re not going to get anybody into trouble. If you think you know something, you really need to tell us so we can find your sister. You might not think it’s important, but we need to find out.’ Matilda wondered why Jodie would bring Mr Page up in the first place if she didn’t think it important. It may be something and nothing but right now it was the first sign of a hint of progress. Matilda wasn’t going to let it slide.
Jodie continued to play with Riley. She reached for a plastic spiral tower all in different bright colours which she placed in front of her brother. She handed him a ball. He placed it on the top of the tower and as the ball ran down, it made a jingling sound. He gurgled and smiled.
‘He loves this game,’ Jodie said, copying his smile. ‘He loves the sound of the bell inside the balls.’ She handed him another ball.
‘You love Riley, don’t you?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘And you love Keeley?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then tell us about Mr Page, Jodie.’
She let out a heavy sigh. ‘Mr Page is Keeley’s PE teacher. She’s said a couple of times that he’s been a bit too … close.’
‘What do you mean by close?’
‘She said he puts his arm around her, and he helps her get changed after PE. She said she thinks it’s weird.’
‘Does he do this with other girls?’
‘She didn’t say.’
‘Other boys?’
‘She didn’t say.’
‘Who else has she told?’
‘Nobody.’
‘Why did she tell you? How did it come up in conversation?’ Matilda asked quickly.
‘She’s not wanted to do PE a few times and I asked her why not. She loves PE, loves going outside and running. For her to suddenly not want to do it, I knew something must have been wrong. I thought she was being bullied at first.’
‘What advice did you give her?’
‘I told her that if she was uncomfortable, she should either tell the head teacher or Mum and Dad.’
‘Did she?’
‘No. I don’t think so.’
‘How long ago was this?’
‘Towards the end of last term. Before the summer holidays.’ She handed Riley another ball and he giggled as he watched the ball roll down the spiral tower.
‘Was she still not looking forward to PE again this term?’
‘No.’
‘Thank you, Jodie. You’ve been a big help.’
Matilda stood up to leave the room when Jodie called her back.
‘Will you be here, at four o’clock, when the kidnappers ring again?’
‘Yes.’
‘What will we do when they call?’
‘I don’t know. It depends what they have to say.’
‘We’re not going to get her back, are we?’
‘You will. I promise. We will do everything we can to bring her home.’
If any of Matilda’s officers had made such a promise, she’d have chastised them at the earliest opportunity. Every time she entered this house, saw the torment Craig, Linda, and Jodie were going through, she was reminded of Carl and his parents. She didn’t remember making them a promise, but her mind had been all over the place with James’s cancer weighing on her mind. Now, she had one task and one goal. She felt she could make a promise and make good on it.
‘Do you think the same people who took Carl Meagan have taken her?’
Matilda took a deep breath. She could feel Ellen Devonport’s eyes burning into the back of her neck. Suddenly, the dull lighting and the warmth of the room were becoming too much for her. She needed air. She needed light. ‘No. I don’t,’ she replied firmly. ‘Keep playing with Riley. Leave us to worry about everything else.’ She gave her a smile, waved goodbye to Riley, even though she knew he wouldn’t wave back, and left the room.
‘Should we promise her we’re going to bring Keeley home?’ Ellen asked once they were back in the hallway.
‘No, but what else could I say?’
The landline started to ring. Everything in the house fell silent. Even Riley seemed to stop giggling.
Craig bolted down the stairs and ran into the living room. He picked up the phone. His shaking finger hovered over the green button. He took a deep b
reath.
‘Keep calm, listen to what they have to say, and ask to speak to Keeley,’ Matilda said. ‘We’re recording this call.’
‘Hello?’ Craig answered. His voice was high and filled with panic.
‘Mr Armitage?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have you been in an accident in the past twelve months that wasn’t your fault?’
He ended the call without answering and slumped on the sofa. He sobbed loudly. Ellen went over to him and put her arm around him.
‘I can’t do this,’ he cried. ‘I can’t bear not knowing where she is. This is killing me.’
‘What’s going on?’ Jodie came running into the room. ‘Dad?’
Ellen moved to one side to allow Jodie to comfort her father. As Craig sat up and lifted his daughter onto his lap, Matilda noticed that although Craig was making the right noises, he wasn’t producing any tears.
Chapter 14
Matilda arranged to meet DC Scott Andrews outside Mary Croft Primary School on Hopwood Lane. She was there before him and spent the time scrolling through social media. She didn’t use Facebook and Twitter but had accounts so she could monitor what other people were up to, especially during investigations.
Linda Armitage had a Facebook account and it wasn’t protected either. She was able to look at all of her posts and photos. Most of them were of Riley playing in his bedroom or snuggled up asleep. Her posts were of how much she loved her son, how proud she was of him, and how she thought he was finally interacting with her after years of one-sided play. The comments were mostly positive. She had around two hundred friends and most of them seemed to be mothers judging by their profile pictures of them posing for selfies with their kids.
Craig wasn’t on social media. There was, however, a Craig Armitage page on Facebook which detailed all of his fundraising events. Most of the posts were signed ‘L’ so Matilda assumed Linda had set up the page for her husband. The photos showed Craig in action – abseiling down the side of the Arts Tower in Sheffield city centre or taking part in the London Marathon dressed as a penguin. Again, all the comments seemed to be positive and congratulated Craig and Linda on all the hard work they were doing to make Riley’s life as comfortable as possible.
Matilda logged on to Twitter. Sheffield was still trending. She scrolled through and read Jodie’s comments about Keeley being kidnapped. She’d updated the posts by saying there was no more news, she was still missing, and the whole family was frightened of what might have happened to her.
The comments on Twitter were not as polite as on Facebook. Mostly people said how sorry they were and had retweeted Jodie’s post with the photo of Keeley. There were a few who were vile and blamed the parents. If they’d kept a closer eye on her in the first place, she wouldn’t be missing. One predatory post said Keeley looked cute in her uniform and he wished he’d got to her first. Another said she was probably at the bottom of the River Don. A few stated the father had most likely killed her. Matilda felt sick just reading them. She took several screen shots and emailed them to Ranjeet back at the station. These people would need contacting, as would Twitter. People like that shouldn’t be allowed an account.
There was a knock on the passenger seat window making Matilda jump. She looked up and saw Scott’s smiling face looking at her. She unlocked the door. He got in beside her. She caught a whiff of his strong fragrance and opened the window a crack. Scott was in his mid-twenties, had a tidy mound of blond hair and a complexion that looked as if a razor had never been scraped across it. Since telling the whole station he was gay earlier this year, and finding a boyfriend, his confidence had grown. He was no longer the shy, quiet one of the team. Matilda loved seeing her team happy. She hoped she would be again, one day, too.
‘You looked engrossed,’ he said.
‘Just reading some of the things people have been saying on social media. Are you on any of these?’
‘God no. I can’t stand them. Everyone is so fake saying how perfect their lives are, what they’re having for tea and how their children are the best in the world. What a load of crap! I think it should be banned. And I certainly don’t think kids should be allowed on there. It’s poisonous.’
Matilda smiled. ‘I’m starting to agree with you there, Scott. You haven’t got a charger for an iPhone, have you? I’m running on fumes, here.’
‘No. I’m Samsung.’ He looked at the school. ‘I thought Sian was coming here.’
‘She was but as I was passing I thought I’d go.’
‘I hate schools,’ he exaggerated a shudder. ‘They always make me feel like I’ve done something wrong.’
‘Guilty conscience,’ she said with a smirk. ‘There’s something I want to ask you. Correct me if I’m wrong, but a few months ago, Chris had a temp job at Mary Croft Primary School, didn’t he?’
‘He’s had temp jobs in practically every school in Sheffield. He was thrilled when this permanent one came up at Stannington Secondary.’
‘But he did work at Mary Croft, didn’t he?’
‘Yes. I think he was covering sick leave.’
‘Good. I want you to ask him about a Mr Page. He’s a PE teacher here. Hopefully we’ll be able to have a word with him now, but I’d like to know what other teachers thought of him.’
‘Sure. No problem.’
‘While you’re at it, ask him if he knows Jodie Armitage. Does he teach her?’
‘Are you trying to turn Chris into a detective?’
‘No. I’m using my contacts to the best of my ability, that’s all,’ she said with a twinkle in her eye.
‘Should he get paid for this?’
‘No he bloody shouldn’t. It’s his civic duty to help the police.’
‘That won’t help us save for a deposit.’
‘You’re thinking of living together?’
He failed to hide his smile. ‘We’d like to.’
‘Wow. I didn’t know you were that serious. What about Rory? He won’t be able to afford that flat on his own.’
‘I’ve spoken to him about it. He’s fine. He said he’d ask Natasha to move in with him.’
‘Bloody hell, look at you two settling down. Finally.’
Scott blushed.
They stepped out of the car and into the autumn air. Scott was dashing off a text to Chris, asking him about Mr Page, while Matilda locked the car. Scott and Rory’s situation made her think. They had both faced difficulties in the past few years; both had been seriously injured in the line of duty yet had managed to drag themselves out the other side and were getting on with their lives. All Matilda seemed to do was work. She had resigned herself to the fact that nobody could ever replace James, but that shouldn’t stop her meeting someone new and having fun. Maybe she should ask Daniel Harbison over one night and see about pushing whatever it was they had a bit further forward.
***
Standing in the corridor outside the head teacher’s office, Matilda looked at a wall of children’s drawings. The children had written their names on the bottom of their pictures and she recognised Keeley’s name straight away. She stood up and went over for a better look at the picture.
The drawing was of a princess at the top of a high tower. She was leaning out of a window looking out over the sprawling countryside. Her face was sad and there were tears rolling down her face. In the background, a large white horse with a knight on its back came charging towards her. The princess had blue eyes and blonde curly hair, exactly like Keeley.
‘She’s a very talented girl.’
Matilda jumped and turned around. The head teacher, Sheila Croft was standing in the open doorway to her office. A small, round woman in her mid-fifties, Sheila had an uncontrollable mound of mousey hair in tight curls. Her cheeks were red, and she had a slight smile on her face.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. Sheila Croft,’ she said, holding out her hand. ‘No relation to the great Mary Croft.’
‘I’m sure you’re asked that all the time,’ M
atilda said, shaking her hands.
‘About once a day,’ she smiled. ‘Come on in. Can I get you a coffee or something?’
‘I’m fine. Thank you.’
Sheila’s office was small and warm. There was a large photograph of the school on one wall and a bank of filing cabinets running along another. Matilda and Scott took a seat in front of her desk.
‘I’m guessing you’ve heard about Keeley going missing.’
‘I have,’ her smiled dropped. ‘Shocking news. We’ll help out in any way we can.’
‘Thank you. What can you tell us about Keeley?’ Matilda asked.
Scott perched a notebook on his lap, a pen poised, ready to take notes.
Sheila looked at her computer screen. ‘She’s an exemplary pupil. She reads two years above her age level, and she scores highly in maths. Her attendance was one hundred per cent last term.’
‘I’m guessing you only come into contact with pupils whenever they’ve done anything they shouldn’t.’
‘Usually, yes.’
‘Is there anyone I can talk to who knew Keeley better – her teacher, perhaps?’
‘Of course.’
‘Was Keeley bullied?’ Matilda asked.
‘Not that I’m aware of. The children of Mary Croft are like one big family,’ she smiled.
‘Ms Croft, I’ve been a detective for more than twenty years. I know what kids are like when they’re together; they can be complete shits. You’re not telling me you don’t have bullying going on here.’
‘We operate a zero-tolerance approach to bullying at Mary Croft,’ the smile grew.
Matilda took an instant dislike to her. How could she be so blind to the behaviour of children. ‘I’m sure you do, but if you tell me there are no bullies at this school, I’ll call you a bare-faced liar. Now, perhaps I could speak to a teacher who actually knows Keeley.’
***
Lauren Beech was a tall, slender woman in her late twenties. Her features were small, as if intruding on her elfin face.
She’d arranged for a teacher to cover her class while she, Matilda, and Scott talked in the staffroom. Lauren set about making them a cup of tea.
‘I’m guessing Mrs Croft tried to tell you there isn’t a bullying problem here.’ Lauren spoke in a light voice that was almost a squeak.
