Missing Believed Dead

by Chris Longmuir

  Breakfast was a luxury she did not have time for but, conscious of how many police officers developed stomach ulcers, she quickly made a slice of toast, slathered it with butter, took a bite, grabbed her car keys and stepped outside. The bitterly cold March wind blew a large dollop of soft butter off the toast and onto her trousers. Not a good start to the day, she thought, ramming the rest of it into her mouth.

  * * * *

  Bill parked his car in a designated parking space, the problem was, it wasn’t his space, but he was already late. Jumping out, he raced into the building, frantically hoping the team meeting had been delayed. It hadn’t.

  The DI glared at him when he crept in.

  ‘Glad you could join us, DS Murphy.’

  ‘Sarky bitch,’ Bill thought, but he nodded and sat down.

  ‘I’ve been filling the team in on the car park incident while we’ve been waiting for you and now all we need is the report. I imagine you’ve brought it with you?’

  Bill swallowed the lump in his throat. Shit, he had forgotten about the damned report.

  ‘You do have it?’

  ‘Actually,’ Bill said, ‘I was waiting for SOCO to get back to me with information I needed before I could complete it. But I couldn’t raise them last night.’

  ‘I see.’ It was obvious from her tone she didn’t believe him. ‘In that case you will have the report on my desk within the hour.’ She paused before continuing, ‘I’m sure they’ll be on duty now.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’ Bill slid down in his chair in a useless attempt to hide his face.

  ‘Right, back to where we were before we were so rudely interrupted.’

  ‘The post mortem is scheduled for 8 am tomorrow morning. Can I rely on you, DS Murphy, to be there? It’s not too early for you, I hope?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am – I mean no, ma’am.’ By this time Bill wasn’t sure what he meant. But there was one thing he was certain of, the DI had her knife in him.

  The meeting droned on and by the time it finished Bill had managed to become responsible for watching the CCTV tapes, finding out the result of the interviews with the two boys, going out with DC Cartwright to see the Fraser family again, and ensuring HOLMES, the computer database, was updated with the information from the murder case. Although how he was expected to update the computer when he didn’t even have a name for the victim, was beyond him.

  He slid behind his desk with a groan.

  Sue slung some files on her desk and said, ‘What’s up with you? You look like something the dog dragged in.’

  ‘It’s going to be one of those days. I can feel it in my bones.’ He leaned forward and planted his elbows on the desk. ‘Did you hear how many tasks she’s allotted to me? And I still have to get in touch with SOCO, and have my report to her within the hour. The rest of you got off lightly. So why me?’

  Sue shrugged. ‘Maybe she’s sussed you out.’

  ‘What d’you mean by that?’

  ‘Well, you always were a deadbeat.’

  ‘No more than anybody else.’

  Sue laughed. ‘No need to go into a sulk. I was joking.’

  Bill glared at her. ‘There are jokes and jokes,’ he mumbled, ‘and that one wasn’t funny.’

  ‘I’ll get you a coffee,’ she said, ‘that’ll maybe get you in a better frame of mind.’

  Bill watched her stroll up the room to the coffee machine. He wasn’t used to being told what to do, so maybe he was touchy. Andy had always let him share the decisions and most times he had pleased himself how he organized his investigations. But this new DI was out to impose her authority on him and he didn’t like it.

  ‘There you are,’ Sue said, placing the cup in front of him. ‘Get that down you and join the land of the living again. And to put you out of some of your misery I’ll check the result of the kids’ interviews.’

  Bill traced his finger round the rim of the paper cup. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve seen those files I was looking at yesterday?’

  ‘Which ones d’you mean?’

  ‘The cold case ones. You remember – you passed them to me.’

  ‘The last time I saw them, they were on your desk. Didn’t you put them away?’

  ‘I forgot.’

  ‘You checked your filing cabinet?’

  ‘Yeah, and my desk drawers, and yours too.’

  ‘What made you think they’d be in mine?’

  ‘Don’t know, I was just checking.’

  ‘This what you’re looking for?’ Kate heaved the three files onto Bill’s desk.

  Bill looked up, startled. He hadn’t heard the DI approach.

  Kate pulled at the bottom of her uniform jacket. ‘Files should always be locked up when you are out of the office.’

  ‘Yes, ma’am.’

  ‘It’s time this team gave more thought to security so I’ll be looking into basic training on these issues. Training, I might add, that should be unnecessary at your level of service.’

  ‘Phew,’ Bill said after Kate was out of earshot. ‘Speak about being shot down in flames.’

  ‘She had a point.’ Sue slid into her chair and started to organize the files on her desk. ‘At least it’s better than not knowing where they went to.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right.’ Bill was already rustling through the Carnegie file. Lifting out a photograph of Jade, he studied it, rose and walked over to Jenny Cartwright’s desk.

  ‘D’you think you could scan this photo into your computer and enhance it so I can get a closer look at that necklace she’s wearing.’

  ‘Sure,’ Jenny said. ‘Why d’you want it?’

  ‘It’s just a hunch I have.’

  Chapter Fourteen

  There was a glimmer of daylight in the sky when Diane woke. She lay for a moment listening to the noise of the aerial wire scraping back and forth on the slates. It always did that when the wind blew in a certain direction. Jade used to say it sounded like birds scrabbling about on the roof, and she would rush outside to try and see them. Diane remembered laughing and agreeing with her daughter, because it was nicer than having to tell her it was a silly old wire not properly fixed down.

  Jade had always been fascinated by animals and birds, and some of their happiest times had been when they visited animal parks and sanctuaries. Jade would run ahead, full of life and excitement, while Emma stayed behind, like a shadow. For as long as Diane could remember Emma had been Jade’s shadow, following in her footsteps, trying to be like her sister but never succeeding.

  Diane turned over in the bed and sighed. No point trying to go back to sleep now when her brain was active with thoughts of Jade. She rose quietly and padded to the bathroom. The water was scalding, the sponge rough but not rough enough, so she took the scrubbing brush to her body and only left the shower after she was red and raw.

  She pulled on her clothes, flinching as they touched her skin. Then, fearful of waking them, she crept past Emma and Ryan’s closed bedroom doors and tiptoed down the stairs.

  The car keys were on the hall table where Ryan had left them last night. She picked them up and silently let herself out of the house.

  Camperdown Park was quiet when she got there and she left the car in an empty space near the big house. She got out and walked over the grass, retracing the steps she had often taken with Jade. Over to the left, in among the trees was a small adventure playground which had been a favourite, while in front of her was the larger children’s play area, the boating pond and the Wild Life Centre.

  The ground sloped gently in front of her and in the distance a woman bent to pick something up, probably a deposit left by the dog she was walking. They used to have a dog, a collie. But she had got rid of it after Jade vanished. Her eyes misted over as she remembered Jade running with the dog. Jade was never still, she always ran and screamed and laughed, while Emma sat quietly on the grass, reading a book.

  And suddenly, Jade was gone and with her had gone Diane’s zest for living. There had been a search but when nothing w
as found it was as if everyone lost interest.

  ‘Accept it,’ they had said. ‘She’s gone for good.’ What they meant though was that she was dead. But Diane had never believed that and now the unexpected birthday card and the detective coming back into their lives, was all the confirmation she needed. Jade was alive.

  * * * *

  Bill groaned. He had been studying the CCTV tapes for half an hour and already he was in brain death. When reception phoned to say Mrs Carnegie was there and wanted to talk to him, he grabbed the opportunity to escape from his present purgatory.

  He looked around the room to see who was available to take over and grinned when he spotted DC Armstrong. The constable was young, keen, and with an eye for promotion. He would do nicely.

  ‘Blair,’ he called. ‘Will you take over here while I interview Mrs Carnegie?’

  ‘Sure thing,’ the constable said, but Bill could tell by his expression he wished someone else had been asked.

  ‘Keep working backwards,’ Bill said, ‘until you spot when the white van arrived in the car park. That’ll let us know which tapes to concentrate on.’

  On the way out he had to pass the DI, standing at the door of her office. ‘I thought I asked you to check the tapes. And, I’m still waiting for that report.’

  ‘Sorry, ma’am, there’s someone in reception I need to see.’

  ‘Can’t someone else do it?’

  ‘Not really, ma’am. It’s connected to a case I’m involved with and she’s asked for me. DC Armstrong has kindly offered to check the tapes in my absence so we shouldn’t lose any time.’

  Bill stared her out until she finally nodded.

  ‘If that’s all, ma’am, I’d better not keep Mrs Carnegie waiting.’

  He resisted the temptation to slam the office door, but once in the lift he thumped his fist on the wall and swore. The damned woman couldn’t leave him alone and he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it.

  By the time he reached the ground floor he had calmed down.

  ‘Mrs Carnegie! Where is she?’ he asked, peering through the window that formed a division between the officers and the reception area.

  One of the officers on duty shrugged his shoulders. ‘She seemed agitated and left a couple of minutes ago.’ He leafed through a sheaf of papers separating some out to put in different trays. ‘Queer one, she was. Couldn’t sit still and I could swear she was muttering to herself at one point.’

  Bill nodded his thanks, left the office through the security door, walked across the reception area and through the outer glass doors of the building. A gust of wind caught him and he stood for a moment at the top of the steps, buttoning his jacket. Looking down he could see Diane Carnegie pacing back and forth on the pavement like an animal escaped from captivity.

  He ran down the steps and grasped her arm to stop her pacing. She turned to face him with wild, confused eyes, and for a moment he thought she might wrench her arm free and run from him.

  He let go and smiled at her. ‘You asked to see me?’

  She looked at him blankly.

  ‘Detective Sergeant Murphy,’ he prompted.

  ‘I couldn’t stay in there,’ she said. ‘It reminded me too much of the terrible days after Jade was taken.’

  ‘We don’t have to go inside,’ he said. ‘We can sit in the car; at least it’ll get us out of the wind.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Over here.’ He cupped her elbow in his hand, noting the lack of flesh on her arms. She seemed to have shrunk since the last time he’d seen her. Back then she’d seemed to have a spark about her, even though it was tinged with despair. Now her eyes were dull, her body hunched, and her walk listless.

  Bill did not often feel protective of women but Diane’s posture and demeanour pulled at something inside him and he wanted to comfort her.

  He opened the car door and waited until she settled in the front passenger seat, before walking round the bonnet to get in the other side.

  They sat in silence for a time until Bill could stand it no longer. ‘You phoned the other day and said there had been developments.’

  ‘I know she’s alive . . . I’ve got proof.’ She twisted her hands in her lap, rubbing them so the inflamed skin reddened even more. ‘You’ve got to find her.’

  ‘Proof?’

  She nodded and handed him a green envelope. ‘It’s a birthday card,’ she said, ‘from Jade.’

  Bill studied the card, then carefully placed it back into the green envelope.

  ‘You’re sure it’s from her?’

  ‘Emma thinks it’s someone playing a sick joke on me. But I know it’s from Jade.’

  Diane’s misery seemed to fill the car, and Bill resisted the urge to reach out to her, put his arm round her shoulders, and comfort her. He was convinced Diane was deluding herself but wasn’t sure how to handle it. All he knew was, he couldn’t let her continue in this fantasy about Jade’s return.

  ‘Emma could be right, you know. Some people do have a sick sense of humour.’

  Diane hunched further down in the seat. ‘You don’t believe me either, but it’s from Jade. I know it is.’

  She kneaded the material of her skirt between her fingers, twisting and pulling at it, until Bill was sure it would tear. She turned her head and looked at him, her pale blue eyes misty with tears. ‘Besides, there was something else in the envelope.’

  She dug her hand into her pocket, bringing out a bead – a green jade bead – which she pressed into his hand. ‘That’s from Jade’s necklace, I gave it to her on her eleventh birthday, and she always wore it. She was wearing it when she left that day.’

  Bill stared at the bead. His stomach churned and he wanted to be sick.

  ‘I’ve always known she wasn’t dead and now, you see, this is proof she can’t be.’

  Bill fought to control his nausea, and said the first thing that came into his head. ‘But wouldn’t she have come home if she was alive?’

  Tears trembled on her eyelashes and she stared at her hands. ‘Maybe she lost her memory or something.’

  ‘I think, somehow, a thirteen year old girl who had lost her memory would have come to our attention.’ Her despair touched something in Bill and his voice was gentle.

  Tears trickled down her cheeks. ‘You read about these men who keep girls locked up in cellars and things. But I try not to think about that. All I know is something must have stopped her from coming home.’

  ‘But if she’s able to send you a card, surely she can’t be imprisoned in a cellar.’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe she’s with her father. He wouldn’t want her to come home.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  ‘He always favoured her,’ she mumbled.

  Something in her tone troubled Bill. ‘Why was that?’

  She looked up and met his eyes with a glare.

  ‘He just did.’

  Bill was silent, mulling over the implications of what she had said, and what was left unsaid.

  ‘Where can I find him?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Her father.’

  ‘I don’t know. He dropped off the face of the earth when he left.’ She rubbed her hands over the rough fabric of her skirt. ‘Maybe the Witch of the North would know.’

  ‘Witch of the North?’

  She twisted her hands and rubbed them even more fiercely, before she answered in a voice that dripped hate. ‘His mother – the witch woman – she’ll know.’

  Sitting up, her body tensed and her fingers hooked into claws. She no longer seemed to be the vulnerable woman who had sat beside him a moment ago. Bill looked at her with fresh eyes and couldn’t help wondering if she was capable of murder.

  Diane lapsed into an awkward silence, the tension left her body and she was vulnerable again, awash with despair as she rubbed and kneaded her hands. Bill felt ashamed of his doubts; he didn’t think this woman capable of murder. He wanted to put his arm round her, take her red hands into his, and
comfort her. He wanted to tell her he would find Jade, but knew that would be a mistake. Too much time had elapsed since Jade’s disappearance. It would be a miracle if she were still alive. And yet, Diane believed it. The best he could do for her would be to check it out.

  ‘D’you know where his mother lives?’ As soon as he spoke Bill knew it was a mistake. He was committing himself to a reinvestigation of Jade’s disappearance, and he shuddered to think how his DI would react.

  Diane grimaced. ‘Where she’s always lived, about a mile north of Drumsturdy Road. It’s a big house on the road to Newbigging.’ She thrust a piece of paper into his hand. ‘I’ve written the address down for you.’

  She opened the car door, but before she got out she leaned over and pecked a kiss onto his cheek. And she was gone, leaving Bill sitting in the car wondering what he was getting involved in.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Emma woke to the noisy clanking of bottles and tins being thrown into the recycling lorry.

  She lay for a few moments, luxuriating in the warmth of the bed, reluctant to face the day, but the light, filtering through the gap in the curtains, reminded her she should be up and about. So she pushed down the side of her pillow to enable her to see the clock on her bedside table.

  ‘Shit!’ She sprang out of bed. It was ten-past-nine, she’d slept in, and she would be late for her first lecture.

  Her shower was quick and functional, no time to enjoy the hot water cascading over her body, she was late, late, late. The large white towel was rough against her skin, the softness long gone through too much laundering, but she wrapped it round her body and darted back to her bedroom. That was when it dawned on her the house was too quiet. That was what had been bothering her. That was the reason she had slept in.

  It was then she realized she hadn’t heard the slam of the door as her mother went out to collect the green recycling box, and looking out the window she could see the box lying on its side on the pavement. She frowned, thinking it strange, because by now Diane would have been scrubbing the box ready for its next intake of bottles and tins. She would never leave it outside.