Stolen Children

by Michael Wood

  ‘I’m worried that it leaves us with just one potential suspect,’ he said, his voice lowered.

  ‘Craig Armitage?’ Matilda guessed.

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘But what’s his motive?’

  ‘The historical sex abuse for a start. What if he’s the one who’s been abusing her? What if she threatened to tell someone and he killed her to shut her up?’

  ‘I could understand that if Keeley was an only child, but there’s Jodie to think about in all this. Why didn’t he abuse Jodie when she was Keeley’s age?’

  ‘Maybe he did,’ Christian said, firmly, not breaking eye contact with Matilda.

  ‘Fuck!’ Matilda said, kicking the nearest door. ‘We’ve never had a serious talk with Jodie, have we?’ They should have interviewed her. They should have taken her out of that house and asked her to give them chapter and verse on Craig and Linda as parents. If Matilda hadn’t been so distracted with Carl Meagan and the worry of her reputation at another child disappearing and not being found, she would have asked the right questions of the right people and known the Armitage family inside and out by now. Once again, she blamed herself.

  ‘It’s on the list of things to do but we’ve been tiptoeing around them because they’re grieving.’

  ‘We still can’t discount Calvin Page, though. Get his phone off to forensics and see if any of these photos or videos show Keeley Armitage. Get a sample of his DNA and run it past anything we found on Keeley’s body or inside the Armitage house. Also, get a decent photo of Calvin and send it to my phone. I’ll show the Armitages, see if they recognise him.’ She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling tight on the strands. ‘Ok, here’s what we’re going to do: me and Sian have spoken to the Armitage family the most, so we’ll go out there now and have a private word with Jodie. I need you to get everyone out there looking for Ellen.’

  ‘Do we think there’s some kind of connection?’

  ‘I bloody hope not, but we’ll get an alibi for Craig, see if he’s been out at all.’

  There was a crack of thunder so loud that the lights dimmed and the walls of the station shook, causing everyone to stop in their tracks.

  ‘Please don’t tell me that’s an omen,’ Matilda said.

  Chapter 50

  A red weather warning from the Met Office was issued for parts of Yorkshire and Humberside. Power lines were down, and roads were closed. People were advised to stay indoors and not make any journeys unless they were absolutely necessary. Detaining a potential murderer was deemed as being a necessary journey.

  DC Rory Fleming was the best advanced driver in the HMET. He’d come to the station to pick Natasha up but decided to hang around when he heard she was out on a call. Christian and Scott found him in the open-plan office bent over Sian’s snack drawer.

  ‘Sian’s going to kill you if she finds you rooting around in there,’ Scott said as they entered.

  ‘No she won’t. She’ll offer to have my children,’ he stood back to reveal a drawer full to the brim with brightly coloured chocolate bar and sweet wrappers.

  Christian bent down to grab a bar, but Rory slapped his hand. ‘Not until Sian’s seen it first.’

  ‘In that case, you can drive Sian and DCI Darke to Stannington. They’re downstairs waiting for you.’

  As they left the room, Rory grabbed Scott’s arm. ‘Scott, can you do me a favour?’ He looked worried.

  ‘Sure. What is it?’

  ‘When you get out to Heeley, tell Natasha to be careful.’

  ‘She will be careful.’

  ‘I know, but, when it’s one of our own, we sort of throw the rule book out of the window, don’t we? I don’t want her doing something that could risk her life.’

  Scott smiled. ‘You really like her, don’t you?’

  ‘Scott, mate, I love her.’

  ‘Have you told her?’

  ‘Not yet. Will you tell her for me?’

  ‘You can piss off.’

  ***

  Once they were out of the city centre, the traffic was practically non-existent as people paid heed to the warnings and stayed safely indoors. It seemed like the end of the world. It was Saturday night; the city should have been full of people heading for pubs, restaurants and night clubs, but everywhere was deserted.

  Rory drove at speed. His hands gripped the wheel firmly and his arms were straight at the elbow. He frowned in concentration as he skirted around deep puddles and fords in the road.

  He drove with Sian in the front passenger seat beside him. Matilda had decided to take her own Range Rover. In weather this bad, it was best to have a back-up vehicle.

  ‘Whoever says climate change doesn’t exist is a complete moron,’ Sian said. ‘We never used to get storms like this. Remember when Meadowhall flooded a few years back? It will do again if it doesn’t let up soon.’

  ‘We’ve had a hot summer,’ Rory said. ‘I suppose this is the price we pay.’

  ‘They keep saying on the news we need to act now before it’s too late. I think we’ve already passed the tipping point,’ Sian said, glaring out of the window as the rainstorm drenched Sheffield as if mother nature was trying to sweep it out to sea.

  Rory slowed as they turned into Acorn Drive. He slammed on the brakes when he saw an ambulance parked outside the Armitage house. The back doors were open and the blue lights were flashing, dancing in the dark.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Rory said.

  By the time Sian had taken her seatbelt off and got out of the car, Matilda was already tearing towards the house.

  The front door was open, and she went inside without knocking. ‘Hello. Is everyone all right?’

  She almost collided with a paramedic in the entrance to the living room. Matilda introduced herself.

  Linda Armitage was being secured to a trolley. She was unconscious and covered in blood.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Mrs Armitage began coughing up blood about an hour ago. I’m afraid it took us a while to get out here in this weather. We’ve managed to sedate her and get fluids into her, but she’s lost a great deal of blood,’ the young paramedic said. ‘Would you like to go with your wife?’ he asked Craig.

  Craig was standing by the window. He had a look of pure horror on his face as he tried to make sense of what was happening to his family.

  ‘Erm, I don’t know … I need to look after Jodie and Riley.’

  ‘We can sort something out, Mr Armitage, if you want to be with your wife,’ Rory said.

  ‘Thank you. I suppose I should go with her.’ He began to follow the paramedics out of the room as they slowly and carefully made their way to the door.

  ‘Daddy.’

  Craig stopped and turned to look up the stairs. Jodie was sat at the top hugging her knees. There were tears running down her face. She was wearing a thick towelling dressing gown. Her hair was wet. She looked younger and more vulnerable suddenly.

  ‘Jodie, I need you to stay here and look after Riley. I promise, I won’t be long.’

  ‘Will she be all right?’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘What do I do?’

  He ran up the stairs to her and held her by the shoulders. ‘Sweetheart, I need you to be a big girl. I need you to look after Riley. As soon as I can, I’ll come home. I promise,’ he kissed her on the forehead.

  ‘I love you,’ she said as her father ran back down the stairs.

  He stopped and looked back at his remaining daughter. ‘Love you too, sweetheart.’

  Matilda pulled Rory to one side. ‘Rory, follow him to the hospital,’ she whispered. ‘Find out what the hell happened here and try and get as much information out of him as possible. Ring me if you get anything.’

  ‘Will do.’ He ran out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

  Matilda and Sian stood in the hallway. Their faces were blank. They had expected to come here to interview Craig and hopefully have a quiet word with Jodie.

  ‘Jodie, would you like
to come downstairs?’ Sian asked in her calmest ‘mother’ tone. ‘I’ll make us a nice hot drink and you can tell us what happened here tonight.’

  ‘Is my mum going to be all right?’ she asked.

  ‘I’m sure she will. Some of the best doctors in the world work in Sheffield. We’re very lucky to live here. Come on, come down.’

  ‘I don’t want to go into the living room,’ she said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘That’s where all the blood is.’

  Sian gave a weak smile to Jodie and left her on the stairs while she and Matilda went to the lounge. Blood was splattered on the coffee table and soaking into the carpet. She had never seen someone expel so much blood without them being shot or stabbed.

  What the hell was wrong with Linda Armitage?

  Chapter 51

  It was pitch dark. The new, energy saving streetlights were useless for conducting a proper search and it was too windy to erect spotlights. The helicopter flew low over the streets of Heeley, shining its bright beam onto the rapidly flowing river and surrounding areas. Chesterfield Road South had been closed to traffic. It was a major road running through this part of Sheffield and would cause as much disruption as the weather. There was no alternative, however.

  Natasha Tranter looked like she’d been pulled out of the River Sheaf. She was drenched from head to toe and her curly brown hair was sticking to her head. DC Finn Cotton handed her a damp towel.

  ‘Why don’t you take a break,’ he shouted over the sound of the rain.

  She rubbed hard at her head and wiped her face. ‘I can’t. We need to find her.’

  Finn couldn’t decipher which drops on her face were rain and which were tears. ‘We will. DI Brady is sending out more officers.’

  She swallowed hard. ‘Finn, what if she’s dead?’

  He couldn’t answer that.

  ‘What if she’s been swept away? What if she’s drowned?’

  He held her by the shoulders. ‘Nat, take five minutes.’

  ‘I can’t. I’m going back down.’

  She pushed by Finn and headed across the road to go around the back of a Victorian building that had been a pub for over a hundred years but was now a wood flooring centre. Finn was about to follow when he saw a car pull up. He squinted against the headlights and the rain hitting his face to get a good look at who was inside. Hopefully it would be someone of a high rank who could tell Natasha to take a step back.

  DCs Scott Andrews and Ranjeet Deshwal climbed out of the car wearing waterproofs. He headed towards them and saw DI Brady get out of the back.

  ‘Any news?’ Christian asked.

  ‘No. The bloke in the helicopter says if the wind gets any worse, they’ll have to call off the search. It’ll be too dangerous for them to be up there.’

  ‘This rain isn’t letting up at all, is it?’

  ‘I think the river’s going to break its banks at any moment, sir,’ Finn said.

  ‘Who’s down there?’

  ‘A few uniformed officers are taking it in turns. Sir, will you have a word with PC Tranter? She won’t take a break. She’s soaked and knackered.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ Scott chimed up. ‘Where is she?’

  ‘She went around the back of the building.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Ranjeet said. ‘We can relieve some of the officers, give them a break.’

  The helicopter roared overhead. The searching spotlight lit them up before plunging them back into darkness. The river was raging and the blades from the helicopter weren’t helping.

  Using powerful torches, officers searched the overgrown banks for any sign that Ellen had been washed ashore. It was an exercise in futility; they couldn’t see anything. But a fellow officer was missing so they would search all night if they had to.

  ‘Natasha,’ Ranjeet called out. She didn’t hear him despite the fact he was standing right behind her. He called her name again. ‘Natasha, DI Brady’s on the bridge. He wants a word with you.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘He didn’t say. Don’t keep him waiting. You know how short-tempered a wet DI can be.’

  ‘Ok. Here.’ She handed him her torch. ‘I’ll be right back.’

  She looked exhausted as she struggled to climb up the embankment and back to the road.

  Ranjeet and Scott walked along the edge of the river. The ground was soaked and unstable. They were wearing all the right gear, but nothing could protect them if they slipped and fell into the raging torrent.

  ‘This is ridiculous. She could be anywhere,’ Scott shouted from behind.

  ‘Where does this river run to, do you know?’

  ‘Not a clue. I’d say the River Don, but that’s just a guess.’

  ‘Bloody hope not. She gets in that, we really will have lost her.’

  ‘I’ve never seen this river so high,’ Scott called out.

  ‘Me neither. What’s that under there?’ Ranjeet asked, aiming his torch across the river.

  Scott squinted and pointed his torch in the same direction. ‘I think it’s a black bag, probably rubbish someone’s dumped.’

  ‘I thought it looked like an anorak or something.’

  They trudged further on down river. When they reached the railway bridge, there was no way they’d be able to go under it without succumbing to the same fate as Ellen. They struggled to climb up the saturated embankment, ran across the tracks and down the other side. While they held on to tree branches and roots sticking out of the ground to stop them falling in, other officers on the opposite side of the river were searching from the relative safety of the narrow concrete walkway at the back of ancient offices and warehouses which had seen better days. Windows were boarded up; brick work was covered in illegible graffiti. A footbridge ran across the river acting as an escape route from the buildings; a few officers were on there, struggling with a large searchlight on a tripod. Everything was being done to find Ellen Devonport.

  Beyond the footbridge, the river dropped deeper, making the water rage even faster. There was no way an officer could risk their life by wading through that to find her. Scott and Ranjeet helped each other up the embankment to the empty car park. They were filthy, soaked, out of breath and seriously dejected.

  ‘This is futile,’ Scott said. ‘Even with the torches we can’t see a sodding thing down there.’

  ‘I know. We can’t stop, though.’

  ‘We could have already passed her and not realised.’

  Ranjeet looked at him. ‘You think she’s dead?’

  ‘The bloke who called it in said she was pushed over the bridge. If she’s fallen in the water, she could have hit her head and been knocked unconscious. I mean, she could even have got snagged on something under the railway bridge. There’s too many possibilities.’

  ‘You want to just give up on her?’ Ranjeet looked angry.

  ‘Of course I don’t but, like I said, we could have already passed her.’

  ‘Fuck!’ Ranjeet screamed. ‘She was at our house just a couple of hours ago. Kes told her to stay for tea, but she wouldn’t. If she’d have waited even another half an hour I would have been back. I could have given her a lift.’

  ‘You can’t blame yourself, Ranjeet.’

  ‘Kes said she’d had a full bottle of wine to herself. There’s no way a drunken woman could survive in this. If she’s dead, Kes will never forgive herself.’

  Scott was about to speak, to reassure his colleague, when a large rumble was heard behind them. They turned and watched as a large section of the riverbank crumbled and fell into the Sheaf.

  Neither of them said anything, but they were both thinking the same thing: how could anyone survive in such conditions?

  Scott’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He struggled to get to it with wet fingers and fought to pull it out of his trouser pocket. The display told him DI Brady was calling.

  ‘Yes?’ he said loudly into it. ‘What? I can hardly hear you … Really …? Are you sure …? Fine. I’ll tell him
.’ He ended the call and looked down, dejected.

  ‘They’ve found her?’ Ranjeet asked, hopeful.

  ‘They’re calling off the search.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘It’s too dangerous. The helicopter’s leaving. We can’t keep searching in these conditions. DI Brady said we’ll start again at first light. Hopefully the rain will have stopped by then.’

  ‘And what if it hasn’t?’ Ranjeet screamed. ‘What if this carries on for a few more hours? What if the river bursts its banks and the whole area floods? We’ll have lost her, Scott. I’m not stopping.’ He turned his torch back on and headed for the edge of the swollen river.

  ‘Ranjeet, we’ve had an order to go back.’

  ‘You do what you like. I’m not giving up on her.’

  Ranjeet jumped onto the bonnet of a white Transit van and scrambled his way to the roof. He leaned on the wall overlooking the river and shone his torch. He screamed Ellen’s name at the top of his voice, but even Scott struggled to hear him.

  ‘This is insane,’ Scott shouted. ‘Ranjeet, come down. Save your energy until tomorrow morning.’

  If Ranjeet heard him, he showed no sign of it. There were vans and cars parked next to each other. DC Deshwal jumped from one to the other, leaning over the wall and looking down into the river, searching hopelessly for his colleague.

  Scott got back on the phone and rang DI Brady.

  ‘I’m coming down. Don’t let him do anything stupid,’ was all he said before disconnecting the call.

  Scott turned back to Ranjeet. ‘Don’t let him do anything stupid,’ he said to himself. ‘How the bloody hell am I going to stop him?’

  ‘I’ve found her!’ Ranjeet screamed.

  ‘What?’ Scott ran towards him at the far end of the car park.

  ‘She’s here. I can see her.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes. She’s wedged against the bridge that runs under Myrtle Road. I can see her,’ he said with a wide grin on her face.

  ‘Is she all right?’

  ‘I don’t know. I can’t tell. But it’s definitely her. I know it is.’ Ranjeet threw one leg over the wall.