by S J Bolton
‘Are people agreeing to that?’
‘If they don’t, we want to know why.’
No, it was not going to end like this. ‘Yes, I know the rules,’ Evi said, trying not to snap. ‘I’ve read them three times in the last twenty-four hours, Dr Warrington, so don’t try quoting them at me. It seems to me that in situations where serious harm may occur to a third party, the doctor isn’t just able to pass on information, he’s obliged to.’
Warrington leaned towards her, locking his fingers together in front of his chin. ‘That refers to passing information to the police,’ he said. ‘Get the officer in charge of the case to come and see me and I’ll see what I can do.’ He was bending down, picking up his bag.
‘There isn’t time for that,’ said Evi. ‘Look, I know I’ve sprung this on you and I’m sorry, but I’ve been up half the night working on this.’
He opened his mouth. She wasn’t giving him a chance.
‘I have neither the time nor the energy to be polite, so here’s the bottom line,’ she hurried on. ‘If you don’t help me and Joe Fletcher dies, I will make certain everyone – the police, the General Medical Council, the media, absolutely everyone – knows about this conversation and that you put rules, not to mention golf, before a little boy’s life.’
Silence in the room. Evi was trembling. For a second, she thought it wasn’t going to work, that he would order her out of the room and make an official complaint to the GMC even before twelve noon tee-off. Then he reached out and switched the computer back on.
‘Right,’ he said, not meeting her eyes. ‘What exactly are we looking for?’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I need to find a patient, most likely under thirty years old, suffering from congenital hypothyroidism.’
Rushton’s phone was ringing. He’d stood up, walking quickly away from Harry, his phone pressed against his right ear. Then he turned back, switching it off as he came back. ‘We’ve had a sighting in Great Harwood,’ he said. ‘Walk with me to the car, Harry.’
They set off, drawing curious glances as they made their way along the churchyard path. ‘A lad answering Joe’s description has been seen going into a house,’ continued Rushton. ‘No children are known to live there and the owner is someone we’ve had our eye on for a while. We’re sure he’s a nonce but we can’t prove it. He’s clever.’
‘And you think he’s got Joe?’ asked Harry, in dismay.
‘I hope so, lad. I bloody well hope so. Because this call came within the hour. If it’s Joe, he’s still alive.’
‘Will you tell Gareth and Alice?’
‘Not till we know anything for certain. We should have a car there in ten minutes. They won’t wait for me.’
They’d reached Rushton’s car. The waiting journalists, spotting the detective chief superintendent and sensing the urgency in his manner, came striding towards them. Rushton jumped into his car before turning back to Harry. ‘If I were you, lad,’ he said, ‘I’d get back into that church and do what you do best.’ The car set off, disappearing from sight as it turned the corner.
Knowing he couldn’t cope with journalists, Harry turned and walked quickly back up the hill. People were starting to leave the church and he realized he hadn’t heard the helicopter for several minutes.
Sinclair and Tobias Renshaw, both dressed for the outdoors, had followed Harry and Rushton out of the church grounds. Standing a little behind them, her eyes flicking up to Harry and then back down again, was Gillian.
‘Any news, Vicar?’ asked Sinclair, as Harry drew close.
Harry shook his head. ‘Nothing yet,’ he said. Had Joe spent the night with a known paedophile? What state would he be in, even if he was alive? No, he simply couldn’t start thinking like that.
Alice and Millie had appeared directly in front of him. Hovering at their side was Jenny Pickup.
‘How are you holding up, Alice?’ asked Sinclair, in a voice that surprised Harry with its gentleness. Alice looked up at the tall man as though he’d spoken to her in a foreign language.
‘Has anyone seen Gareth and Tom?’ she asked.
‘They were on Lower Bank Road about half an hour ago,’ said Gillian, stepping closer. ‘They went on to the old railway line with me and a few others. We wanted to check the Collingway tunnel.’
‘They would have come back when the helicopter began its search, though,’ said Tobias. ‘Alice, I wish you’d come back to our house and rest. It’s too cold for the little one to be out.’
‘You should, Alice,’ said Jenny, taking a step closer to her grandfather. ‘Or at least leave Millie there. Dad’s housekeeper will keep an eye on her. You can’t carry her round on your back all day.’
Alice’s eyes were drifting. ‘Thank you,’ she said, to the nearby lamppost. ‘I need to keep her with me. I have to find Gareth now.’
She turned away. More and more people were coming out of the church now. The search was back on.
‘I’m sorry, I’m afraid there’s nothing else to try.’
Wondering how she was going to find the energy to get out of her chair, Evi nodded her head. ‘I know,’ she admitted.
An hour after John Warrington had agreed to help her search for the mysterious Ebba, they’d been forced to give up. They’d run every search through patient records that they’d been able to think of. Only the records of the last thirty years had been computerized, but Warrington had gone into the practice basement and found several boxes of older records. They’d gone back forty years, knowing the chances of Ebba being older than that were almost non-existent, but although they’d found several people suffering from the condition, all had died. In thirty-four years, no one with congenital hypothyroidism, not even anyone with a goitre, had been registered as a patient. They’d racked their brains trying to think of similar conditions and had run several other searches. At last, they’d been compelled to give up.
‘How sure are you that she lives in this area?’ asked Warrington.
‘She must do,’ said Evi. ‘Someone with that condition couldn’t drive.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought so,’ agreed the GP.
‘How can someone like that slip so completely off the grid?’ asked Evi, almost trembling with frustration. ‘Why wasn’t she diagnosed as a baby? Why wasn’t she treated? And why, given all her medical needs, do the local doctors know nothing about her?’
Warrington didn’t reply and Evi pushed herself to her feet. ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry you missed your game.’
‘I’ll phone our receptionists at home,’ the doctor offered. ‘And a couple who’ve since retired. It’s possible they can remember something, think of something. If anything comes up, I’ll let you know.’
‘I’m sinking, Harry,’ said Alice. They’d got as far as the corner of the churchyard and then Alice stumbled. He’d had to reach out to catch her, to stop her and Millie from tumbling to the ground.
‘You’re doing incredibly well,’ said Harry. He put an arm round her shoulders and led her to the wall. Her breathing was too fast. ‘You’re calm, you’re functioning and you’re taking care of your other two children,’ he went on. ‘I can’t imagine what strength that takes.’
‘It’s the worst feeling in the world,’ said Alice. ‘Not knowing where your child is. Nobody can feel like this and stay sane.’
‘You can,’ said Harry, although the truth was he wasn’t sure. He really didn’t like the way Alice seemed unable to focus on anything.
‘I’ll tell you what it’s like,’ she went on, leaning so close to him it felt uncomfortable. ‘It’s like Joe never really existed, that I just imagined him. And now, I really need to see Tom and Gareth because I’ve got this feeling that they’ve gone too. Then I’ll look round and Millie will have disappeared. It’s like someone’s rubbing us out, bit by bit.’
‘Millie is asleep on your shoulder,’ Harry said quickly, realizing that if he stopped talking he might start sobbing. ‘Tom and Gar
eth are close by, looking for Joe. Alice, look at me.’
She raised her head. He thought perhaps he could have fallen in love with those pale turquoise eyes, had he not already…‘We will find Joe,’ he said. ‘Some time very soon, we’ll find him. I wish I could promise you we’ll find him safe and well, but you know I can’t do that. But one way or another, we will find him. You’ll be able to see clearly again, you’ll be able to grieve, if you have to, and you’ll be able to move on. You’ll never be alone.’
‘Harry, I…’ Turquoise eyes filling with tears. A second pair was staring at him. Millie had woken and was looking at Harry as though she understood every word.
‘You have incredible strength,’ he said. ‘Your family will survive because they have you. You’re its heart. You’re its soul.’
‘I can see why you became a priest,’ said Alice, reaching out to touch his arm. ‘But it isn’t real, is it?’
He thought perhaps the tears were in his eyes, after all. ‘What do you mean?’ he asked, although he knew.
‘There’s no faith shoring you up right now,’ said Alice. ‘No direct line to the man upstairs. It’s just you, isn’t it?’
‘Come on,’ said Harry. ‘Let’s get you both inside.’
82
EVI WAS IN HEPTONCLOUGH. THE STREETS WERE QUIET again. She pulled her car up to the kerb and got out. If she’d ever been more tired in her life before, she really couldn’t remember. She crossed the pavement and walked up the short path to the terraced house. As she stood on the doorstep waiting, something white floated down and settled on her coat sleeve. The snow that had been predicted all day had arrived.
‘I can’t get an answer from Gillian’s flat,’ she said, when the door opened. ‘I’m worried about her.’
Gwen Bannister sighed. ‘Come in, love,’ she said. ‘You look fit to drop.’
Evi followed Gwen along the floral-patterned hall carpet and into a small living room. The carpet was worn in places, the room hadn’t been decorated in a long time. A television in the corner of the room was switched on.
‘Have you seen her today?’ asked Evi, glancing at the television, wondering if Gwen would turn it off.
‘Sit down, love. I’ll put the kettle on.’
The last thing Evi wanted to do was drink tea, but she sank gratefully on to the sofa. ‘I’m not sure we should hang around,’ she said. ‘I’m really quite worried. When did you last see her?’
‘About two hours ago,’ replied Gwen, after a moment. ‘She’s been helping with the search all day. Then, about five o’clock, when it was just too dark to go on, I saw her chatting to the vicar.’
The television was too loud. Evi flinched as the TV audience started applauding. ‘And did she seem OK?’ she asked.
Gwen shrugged. ‘Well, I think he might have said something she didn’t much like, because she spun on her heels the way she does and flounced off down the hill. Is she definitely not at home?’
‘There are lights on but she won’t answer the phone or the door.’ Evi had waited outside Gillian’s house for fifteen minutes, getting colder and stiffer. In the end, she’d had to try something else.
‘I’ll walk down and check on her,’ Gwen was saying. ‘Will it wait till I’ve had my tea?’
‘Probably,’ said Evi, although she really would have preferred Gwen to go immediately. ‘If you’re at all concerned about her, especially if she isn’t there, I need you to phone me,’ she went on. ‘If she seems basically OK, could you tell her that someone will call her in the morning? A colleague of mine from the hospital. She’s going to be taking over Gillian’s case.’
Gwen frowned. ‘I thought you and she were doing quite well.’
‘We were. I’m sorry, I can’t really go into it. Thank you for your help and please phone me if you need to.’ Evi pushed herself to her feet.
‘I will,’ said Gwen, as she did the same. ‘There’s been no more news on the little lad, then?’
Evi shook her head.
‘His poor mother. Makes you wonder what’s going on up here, doesn’t it? And in church too. I hear they’ve left a constable in the vestry overnight, just in case… well, it doesn’t bear thinking about, does it?’
Evi moved towards the door. Gwen was standing in her path but there really was no time for chatting. Evi made a show of looking at her watch and Gwen stepped aside.
‘I should be more sympathetic to Gillian, I know,’ Gwen began, as she followed Evi down the hall. ‘She lost her daughter and two other little girls she was fond of. Course, nobody thought it was anything other than coincidence, what with all the time in between each one. Four years in between Lucy and Megan, then another three before we lost Hayley. And what happened was so different. One fell, one disappeared, one died in a fire. How could we have known they were all linked?’
‘You couldn’t,’ said Evi. ‘Nobody should feel to blame.’ She stopped, three feet from the front door. All linked? ‘Gillian was fond of Lucy and Megan?’ she asked.
‘Oh aye. She did some nannying for Lucy when she was alive. Can you manage that door, love?’
‘I think she told me that,’ said Evi. ‘I didn’t realize she knew Megan as well.’
‘Used to babysit for her. Sweet little lass, she was. The family moved away. You don’t get over something like that, do you? I should have more sympathy with Gillian, I know that. Look, let me.’
Evi watched Gwen reach past her to open the door. She made herself step forward and over the threshold. ‘Thanks, Gwen,’ she said. ‘Keep me posted.’
Outside, Evi leaned against her car. Already a fine dusting of snow was covering the windscreen. She couldn’t lose her head now. Find the link, Steve had said: the victims were not selected at random, there is a link between them. Had she found it? Did she have enough to go to the police?
She drove down the hill, noticing Harry’s car outside the Fletchers’ house. A few seconds later she parked. Ignoring Gillian’s flat, she went to the door of the newsagent’s beneath it. The shop was in darkness. She banged on the door. Was there a bell? Yes, up there in the top left corner. She pressed it for five seconds, waited a second, then pressed it again. At the back of the shop, a door opened. Lights flickered on and someone was coming towards her. Let it be – yes, it was the woman she’d spoken to yesterday.
‘We’re closed.’
‘I need to ask you something,’ said Evi. ‘I was here yesterday, do you remember? I was trying to find Gillian?’
‘I’m not her keeper, you know.’ The woman was in her sixties, plump, short, with straight grey hair.
‘You told me you’d seen her catching a bus,’ said Evi. ‘Do you remember?’
‘I may have done,’ the woman said, folding her arms across her chest.
‘Did you see which bus she caught? Where it was going to?’
‘What is this, Crimewatch?’ The woman’s face fell. ‘It’s nothing to do with that lad, is it?’
‘It might be.’ Evi was desperate. ‘Please, if you can remember, it’s really important.’
‘It wasn’t one of those Witch Way buses,’ the woman said, her bolshie attitude gone. ‘They’re black and red, aren’t they?’
‘I think so,’ said Evi, although she never travelled by bus.
‘Green, that was it. I remember now, because I saw Elsie Miller getting on it and realized she must be going for her monthly hospital check.’
‘And the green buses go to…?’
‘Past the hospital, dropping off in the town centre.’
‘Which town centre?’
‘Blackburn, of course.’
83
‘DEAD TO THE WORLD,’ SAID JENNY, WALKING INTO THE kitchen. She stopped in her tracks, one hand on her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, that was an incredibly stupid thing to say.’
Gareth glanced at his wife. Alice didn’t seem to have heard. ‘We know what you mean,’ he said. ‘They’re both exhausted. Tom walked as far as I did today. And I don’t think Millie’s ever
had as much fresh air. Do I need to check the oven, Jenny?’
‘Oh, let me.’ Jenny squeezed her way behind Harry and bent down in front of the Fletchers’ range oven. She opened the door an inch and steam poured out into the kitchen. The smell of cooking meat filled the air and Harry realized he was hungry.
Alice stood up. ‘I think I’m going to be sick,’ she announced, before turning and disappearing through the back door.
Wondering if he were quite so hungry after all, Harry watched as Gareth turned his back on the room and stared outside. The darkness was complete. Harry looked at his watch, more out of habit than anything. He’d long since given up expecting Evi. When he raised his head again, Gareth had turned back to face the room.
‘Jenny, Mike will be forgetting what you look like,’ he said. ‘Are you sure you don’t need to…?’ He left the question hanging. Harry wondered if Gareth wanted Jenny to leave, if he wanted them both to leave. Friends were no use to the Fletchers right now. They couldn’t help, they could only get in the way.
‘I will just nip back,’ said Jenny. ‘We’re staying with Dad tonight so we can get an early start in the morning.’ She looked from Harry to Gareth. ‘They’ll all be back,’ she said. ‘Mike and all the men. Everyone. We won’t give up.’
‘Thanks, Jenny,’ said Gareth. ‘But I think we know by now he isn’t here.’
Harry stood up to see Jenny out. ‘I’ll try and pop back later,’ she said in a soft voice as they stood in the doorway. ‘Just to check. Dinner’ll be five minutes. Make sure they eat.’
He closed the front door and leaned against it. He should go too, he was useless here. At least Jenny had provided food. Nobody would eat it, but she was doing something. Then he heard a noise outside. A car had drawn up, followed closely by a second. Two figures climbed out of the vehicles and approached the front door. He got ready to open it, expecting journalists. What was he supposed to say again? The family are holding up well. They’re grateful for everyone’s support. Please continue to pray for…
