by Michael Wood
‘Rose Cartwright, BBC Look North. How do you know the kidnapping was a hoax?’
‘The ongoing investigation and evidence we’ve gathered has led us to believe it was a hoax,’ Valerie said.
‘Bob Rogers, Sheffield Telegraph. According to social media, a ransom demand of fifty thousand pounds was made. How can it be a hoax, yet you still have a missing child?’
‘We believe that whoever has taken Keeley used the kidnapping ploy to mislead police.’
‘So she was definitely taken? She hasn’t simply wandered off?’ Bob asked.
‘That’s our understanding of the situation,’ Valerie said.
‘Greg Levy, The Sun. Linda, if whoever has taken your daughter is watching this, what would you personally like to say to them?’
More cameras flashed followed by a silence, as all eyes turned to Linda.
Craig squeezed her hand tighter. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She grabbed for the plastic cup of water and took a large gulp.
Linda looked deep into the television camera in front of her. ‘Keeley’s my youngest daughter. I love her so much. She makes me smile. I miss her. I need her home. I don’t care why you’ve taken her. I just want you … I need you to give her back to me. Please.’
Craig wrapped his left arm around Linda’s shoulders, and she sank into him. The silence around the room grew.
‘Any other questions?’
‘Danny Hanson, Sheffield Star.’
Matilda’s ears pricked up.
‘DCI Darke, this must bring back memories of Carl Meagan’s disappearance four years ago. There are similarities with a ransom demand. Do you believe the two are connected?’
Matilda leaned closer to the microphone in front of her. She tried to speak but her dry mouth wouldn’t allow her. She cleared her throat. ‘We’ve established that, in this case, the ransom demand was a hoax. We have no evidence to suggest that the cases are connected.’
‘Two children going missing, money demanded in both cases. How confident are you that you can get Keeley back where you failed with Carl?’
‘South Yorkshire Police are working around the clock to find Keeley …’
‘You said the same about Carl going missing.’
‘Mr Hanson,’ Valerie jumped in. ‘Your questions are not helping. Every case is different. There were circumstances beyond our control in why Carl was never found. However, the case remains open and we remain active in looking for him. Looking for Keeley is in the very early stages and we are confident we can bring her home. Now, unless you have a more pertinent question, I believe you can sit down.’
‘Do you have a suspect?’ he asked quickly.
‘At present, we haven’t identified one suspect, but we are following a number of leads.’
‘There are rumours you have a teacher from Keeley’s school under arrest.’
‘Mr Hanson, I’m aware that the majority of what goes into your newspaper is based on rumour, innuendo and gossip, but at South Yorkshire Police, we only deal in facts. I suggest you look that particular f-word up before you continue,’ Valerie said.
There was a ripple of laughter from around the room.
The press officer chose this moment to bring the conference to an end. Linda couldn’t stand up fast enough. She and Craig were led off the platform by Ellen Devonport. Matilda refused to break eye contact with Danny Hanson until he blinked first. A flash of a camera caused Matilda to turn her head.
***
In Dore, Sally Meagan was sitting on the sofa in the living room. She stared, wide-eyed, at the television watching the press conference live. She was taken back in time to when she and Philip had been led out onto the same platform and had given a tearful plea for Carl to come home. She had no memory of what she’d said or of the questions asked of her by the press. Every time she’d looked up, she’d been blinded by the flash of the cameras.
‘It’s happening again,’ she said, choking on her tears as Woody looked up at her from his position on the sofa next to her. ‘That poor family. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone.’
Philip came into the living room, snatched up the remote from the coffee table and turned the TV off.
‘I told you not to watch it.’
‘I know. I had to, though.’
‘Why?’
‘Phil, do you think we should have given her the money?’
‘No. How many times have we had people coming to the house or emailing us asking for money? If we give something to one, we have to give to them all. We can’t do that.’
‘But … she looks like a female version of our Carl,’ she sniffled.
Philip squatted next to her and took her bony hands in his. ‘No she doesn’t, Sal. You just think she does. Don’t do this to yourself.’
***
Craig and Linda were whisked to Valerie’s office. It was quieter and had more comfortable seating. The ACC had arranged for a tray of coffee to be waiting for them. Nobody spoke as they made their way along the corridor. Linda, with her head down, never let go of her husband’s hand.
Matilda waited until they had entered the office before she dug out her mobile and made a call.
‘Christian, how did it go?’ She asked quietly.
‘We’ve searched their shed and Craig’s van. We found nothing.’
Matilda relaxed. It doesn’t mean he’s in the clear. Keep your guard up. ‘That’s good. Did Jodie see you searching?’
‘No. Sian was chatting to her in Riley’s room.’
‘Ok.’ She ended the call and went to join the others in Valerie’s office.
They were all sitting awkwardly around a small table on comfortable chairs. Ellen placed a tray of coffees in the middle and handed one to Linda. She took a sip and pulled a face.
‘Do you have anything to put in this?’
‘I do,’ Valerie went over to her filing cabinet and took out a bottle of whiskey. She poured a small measure into Linda’s coffee. Craig refused.
‘What happens now?’ Craig asked.
‘The press conference was filmed by all the main news channels. It’ll be shown on their bulletins and I believe a news crew from Look North are going out to Stannington this afternoon to film some of the search,’ Matilda said. ‘It will feature heavily in their programme tonight.’
‘What happens if nothing comes of it? I mean, I know you’ll get calls, you’re bound to, but what if there are no leads?’
‘We take it one step at a time,’ she said. ‘Obviously, we hope we find Keeley through this. If not, we’ll stage a reconstruction, another press conference, we’ll get you on breakfast television being interviewed, double page features in national newspapers. There is so much we can do.’
Craig smiled and leaned back in his seat, suitably placated. Linda was perched on the edge, her hands wrapped around the mug, her knuckles white.
‘I don’t think I can go through another night without her. Why would someone do this? Why do people take children?’
Nobody could reply. The clock on the wall ticked loudly. Everyone in the room knew why a person kidnapped a child, but saying it out loud would not be helpful, especially to Linda.
Chapter 22
Matilda picked Pat up from her home in Bradway. She was smartly dressed in black trousers and a cream jumper, heeled shoes and a long black cardigan. She’d styled her hair and put on a touch of make-up. Her fragrance was sweet and not too overpowering. Beside her, Matilda felt like she’d spent the night sleeping in a bus shelter.
‘Without sounding too much like a young World War II bride, any more news from France?’ Pat asked as they set off from outside her home.
‘No. They won’t tell us where the boy is or if they’ve found the couple he was travelling with.’
‘What about the DNA samples?’
‘We’re still waiting. I’m hoping they’re going to mark them as urgent and not post them second class,’ she said, giving a slight chuckle.
‘I saw the press confer
ence on the news. How are you doing?’
She shrugged. ‘I’m trying not to think about Carl too much, to focus on finding Keeley, but it’s not easy.’
‘No. I saw that leech Danny Hanson asking you questions about Carl. He’s got one of those faces you’d like to smack with a hot frying pan.’
‘Pat!’ Matilda admonished.
‘Sorry. I’m right, though. How are Keeley’s parents coping?’
‘Her mother isn’t. She’s a mess. Craig’s trying to be supportive and strong for her, but he’s just bottling it all up; you can see it in his face. I dread to think what’s going to happen if we find a body.’
‘Have you ruled them out?’
It was a while before Matilda answered. ‘I’m not ruling anyone out.’
Pat gave a hint of a smile. ‘Good to hear. This is a difficult case for you, Mat, don’t let your heart rule your head.’
They pulled up outside the black gates at the bottom of the Meagan drive. Neither of them had called ahead. Secretly, Matilda hoped they’d gone out for the day, or better still, had decided to go on a world cruise and wouldn’t be back in Sheffield for another six months. By then, hopefully, France would have sent the DNA samples over.
Matilda wound down the window and pressed the intercom button. It rang several times. Matilda’s heart thumped loudly in her chest. She wished and prayed and hoped it wasn’t answered.
‘Hello Matilda,’ Sally’s distorted voice came out of the speaker. ‘Come on in.’
Sally’s voice: soft, a light Yorkshire accent, a hint of a lisp; it was a voice Matilda had heard many times overlaid by an array of harrowing emotions, but despite a warming in their strained relationship, Matilda always felt she could hear an accusatory tone. It made her feel guilty all over again. The gates slowly began to open. Matilda looked over to Pat and gave a nervous smile.
‘I’m dreading this,’ Pat said.
‘So am I.’
She drove up the drive and parked the Range Rover outside the front door. As they climbed out of the car, the door opened and out bounded Woody. He headed straight for Pat who took a Bonio out of her pocket. He immediately sat down and offered a paw. He took the biscuit gently from her, allowed her to scratch behind his ears and ran back into the house, snack in his mouth.
‘He’s a wonderful guard dog, isn’t he?’ Pat said.
‘A burglar wouldn’t need to bring any tools, just a box of Bonio,’ Sally said with a smile. ‘Come on in, kettle’s on.’
Matilda and Pat followed Sally into the large house. The hallway was spacious and tastefully decorated in whites and creams. The kitchen was warm and cosy – a large range at the top of the room, solid oak cupboard fronts and worktops giving the room a country-cottage feel.
Sally went about making the coffee while Matilda and Pat sat on the stools at the island. In the corner of the room, Woody chewed loudly in his bed.
‘Philip in?’
‘Yes, he’s just getting changed. I had a feeling you’d be visiting. I saw the press conference. Is the ransom thing really a hoax?’
‘We think so.’
‘My heart goes out to the parents. I know exactly how they feel.’ Sally had her back to them. Matilda heard a slight catch in her voice.
‘Sally, Linda wants me to pass on her apologies for—’
Sally quickly turned and held her hand up to silence Matilda. ‘There’s no need for an apology. I was absolutely petrified when she approached me, but looking back, I could see in her eyes she was acting out of desperation. If there’s anything I can do, maybe talk to her, offer some advice, I’ll gladly do it.’
Matilda smiled. ‘That’s very generous of you.’
Sally shrugged. ‘Not generous at all; just practical.’
‘Hello you two,’ Philip said, entering the room. He was wearing skinny black trousers and a black polo shirt. Philip was tall and thin. His hair was grey and receding. He looked healthier than the last time Matilda had seen him. He no longer looked gaunt and had a bit of colour in his cheeks.
Matilda watched as Philip went over to Sally. He put his arm around her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. They smiled at each other. She poured him a coffee from the cafetière and as he reached for a sugar cube from the bowl, she slapped his hand. They giggled.
Matilda smiled. It was heartening to watch them as a normal, happy couple. She hoped they weren’t acting, and that this was a genuine display. She knew they both still missed their son and they hadn’t forgotten him and moved on, but they’d adapted to a life without him, for now.
The four of them sat around the island and engaged in pointless small talk. Matilda noticed Sally kept stealing glances towards her. She knew their visit wasn’t a social one, that Matilda had news, but was waiting for the perfect moment to say it.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sally said, placing her cup down in its saucer. ‘I don’t mean to sound rude, but you’ve obviously come here for a reason.’
‘We have,’ Matilda said.
‘It’s about Carl, isn’t it?’
Matilda gave the smallest of nods. Sally reached out and grabbed Philip’s hand.
‘On Monday, a young boy walked into a police station in France and showed the officer a missing persons poster. He said he was the boy in the picture. He said he was Carl Meagan.’
‘Oh my God,’ Sally said. Her entire body shook. ‘He’s alive. I knew he would be.’ Tears began to roll down her face. ‘How is he? Is he well? Is he all right?’ She couldn’t speak fast enough; her words were tripping over each other as they fell out of her mouth.
‘We’ve been told he’s been well taken care of.’
‘This is amazing news. This is wonderful.’ She slapped a hand to her chest and took a deep breath. ‘I can’t believe it. When’s he coming home?’
‘Right now, he’s in a secure location and being looked after by Police Nationale,’ Matilda said. ‘They’re sending over a DNA sample so we can test it against the sample we have of Carl’s to make sure it’s a match.’
‘You don’t think it’s Carl, do you?’ Philip asked, looking intently at Matilda.
‘What?’ Sally butted in. ‘Of course it’ll be Carl. He’ll know we’ve been looking for him. He’ll have seen the poster and gone straight to the police. He’s a good boy. He’s done the right thing.’ She couldn’t stop smiling.
‘I’m keeping an open mind,’ Matilda told Philip. ‘I genuinely hope it is Carl, but I’m not getting my hopes up until the DNA results come through.’
‘This is amazing,’ Sally beamed, not listening to a word Matilda was saying. ‘Do you think we should go out to France?’
‘Hold your horses, Sal,’ Philip said, trying to calm her down. He turned to Matilda. ‘Did the police in France send a photo through of this boy?’
‘Yes, they did.’
Matilda took her phone out of her pocket and unlocked the screen. She went into the photos app and scrolled through until she found the one of the boy claiming to be Carl. She placed the phone on the island, turned it around and slowly edged it towards them.
Sally cried. She wrapped herself around Philip’s skinny right arm and rested her head on his shoulder while looking at the phone through eyes blurred with tears. Philip’s face remained blank.
‘He’s grown,’ Sally eventually said. ‘He’s lost his chubby cheeks.’ She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘He looks well,’ she smiled.
‘Philip?’ Matilda asked.
‘He looks nothing like Carl.’
‘What?’ Sally said firmly. ‘How can you say that?’ She grabbed the phone and held it up to him. ‘Look at him. Look at his eyes. How can you not tell he’s your son?’
‘Because it’s not him, Sally,’ he said quietly, tears forming in his eyes.
‘You’re wrong. It’s Carl. I know it is.’ She looked deep into the photograph. ‘I’ll admit he’s changed, but it’s been almost four years, he’s bound to have changed. He’s eleven now. He’s had a growth spurt; it�
��s what happens with kids. It’s him. I know it is. I can feel it in my heart.’
‘Sally,’ Philip said, looking down at the floor.
‘What happens now? I know you said you have to wait for the DNA results, but how long will they be? When can we bring him home?’
‘I’m hoping the results will be with us any day. It shouldn’t take long to have it confirmed or not.’
‘I’d better prepare his room. Do you think we should get the decorators in or do you think he’d prefer it the way it was?’ Sally asked her husband but didn’t wait for a reply. ‘No. I think we should leave it and let him choose how he wants his room to look. We can decorate it together. This calls for a toast.’
She jumped down from the stool and ran into the utility room where the wine fridge was.
‘Why don’t you think it’s Carl?’ Pat asked.
‘His eyes are wrong. His lips are thin. Why did you have to tell us? Why couldn’t you wait until you have the DNA results?’
‘It’s the French police who are dealing with this. They could release the information to the press that they’ve found a child who claims to be Carl. I didn’t want Sally hearing about it on the news.’
He nodded. ‘I understand. She’s seeing Carl because she wants it to be him.’
‘Children do change,’ Matilda said, placing a hand on top of his. ‘There is every possibility this is Carl.’ Of course, Matilda knew the opposite was true, too, that this boy might not be Carl. It didn’t matter how many times Matilda looked at that photograph on her phone, she couldn’t make her mind up.
‘Matilda’s right,’ Pat said. ‘What would be the point in lying? In this day and age, we’d find out soon enough if he was lying, and then he’d been in so much trouble. I can understand your reaction, Phil, but there is a chance.’
‘Let’s just wait until the DNA results come through before—’
Matilda was interrupted by the sound of a champagne cork popping.
Chapter 23
Normally, a detective sergeant and constable would conduct the interview with Sebastian Page. As all of them were out at Stannington taking part in the search for Keeley Armitage, there was only Matilda and Christian left to do it.
