Missing Believed Dead

by Chris Longmuir

  He fished the keys out of his pocket and unlocked the padlock. The inside of the shed was pitch black and smelled of earth mixed with a tinge of ammonia. But he was an organized man, and knew exactly where everything was inside, so he knew the ladder was leaning on the wall to the right of the door. He reached in and grasped the metal frame which creaked when he pulled it from its resting place. A slight rustling and faint whisper over in the far corner broke the silence. He stared into the darkness for a moment, but then closed the shed door and padlocked it again. He would come back tomorrow and deal with the source of the noise.

  Patricia was waiting in the doorway and when he appeared with the ladder she walked over to him. ‘You were a long time, I was beginning to worry,’ she said.

  He extended the ladder and propped it against the tree. ‘I know you don’t like going into the woods, but you don’t need to worry about me. I’m used to them.’

  ‘But there’s a fox. It raids my bins and I’ve seen it in the garden after dark.’

  He started to climb the ladder. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow and lay traps, but you’ll have to stay clear of the wooded areas. I don’t want you getting caught in them.’

  Easing himself off the end of the ladder onto the branch, he inched along it until he could see the wig. Strands of hair fluttered in the breeze. His fingers closed over the hair but the wind whipped it out of his grasp. The branch swayed under his weight and for a moment he thought it might break, but a gust blew the wig back towards him and he grasped it before the wind changed direction again. Holding the wig, he wriggled back to safety.

  Patricia vanished inside the house clutching the wig. Paul followed, poured himself a brandy from the crystal decanter in the drinks cabinet, and made himself comfortable on the white leather sofa. He sipped, savouring the flavour of the drink, and studied the painting of his mother. Patricia had been beautiful in her heyday. She never stopped telling him about her stage career and what she had given up for his father. Then, after his father’s death, how she had made the ultimate sacrifice for her Paul. He often wondered if she would have been able to make a comeback, but he accepted her sacrifice as his due.

  She returned to the lounge and slipped onto the sofa beside him. ‘I feel a lot better now.’ She patted her hair. ‘It’s windblown but better than nothing.’ She scowled. ‘That odious woman, promise me you’ll have nothing more to do with her.’

  ‘You haven’t told me what Diane came to see you about?’

  ‘She wanted your address. I wasn’t going to give it to her, but she got violent, and I had to.’

  ‘Why would she want my address? We haven’t been in touch for years and the last time I saw her she was adamant she wanted no contact.’

  ‘Something to do with Jade. I don’t know. Promise me you won’t take up with her again.’

  ‘Of course I won’t. You’re the only woman for me now.’

  Patricia placed her hand on his thigh. ‘You’ll stay the night?’

  ‘Not tonight, Patricia.’

  She had been Patricia to him for as long as he could remember, mother had been a taboo word. When he was a child she’d insisted he tell everyone she was his sister, and when he got older, his girl friend.

  She pouted. ‘I don’t want to be alone tonight.’

  He pulled her close to him and kissed her on the lips. ‘Tomorrow,’ he whispered. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow.’ He eased himself out of her embrace. ‘Can I borrow the car? It’ll save me getting a taxi and I’ll have it back to you first thing tomorrow.’

  She nodded her assent, but he could see the tears welling in her eyes. ‘Tomorrow,’ he whispered, kissed her forehead and left.

  * * * *

  The scrape of a key in the lock woke Megan out of her stupor.

  She’d thought he would never return, but he was there, a dark shape standing in the doorway. The time had come and she wasn’t sure whether to dread what was going to happen to her, or be glad, because it would all be over and maybe he would let her go.

  A cold breeze wafted round her legs, and her shivering increased. That awful shivering that never seemed to stop.

  She wished he would say or do something to put her out of her misery, but all he did was stand, look and listen.

  ‘Please,’ she whispered through cracked lips. Her tongue felt swollen and her vocal chords weren’t working as well as they should.

  But he turned away from her, grasped something that clanked, and went out, shutting and locking the door behind him.

  She was alone in the dark again.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  It was dark when Jade returned.

  She stood on the top landing, listening, but everything was quiet and the house slumbered, along with its occupants. She descended the stairs in her bare feet, being careful to avoid the creaking step, and once she was in the hallway, she put her shoes on.

  The slip of paper was still where Diane had put it, in the telephone directory. She slipped it out, grabbed the car keys and silently left the house.

  The drive was on a slight slope. She turned the ignition key to the first notch, released the hand brake and allowed the car to slip out onto the road before she felt safe enough to turn the ignition on fully and drive off.

  The roads were quiet and she was soon driving into the Greenfield estate where she planned to confront Paul.

  She left the car in the parking area opposite the flats, manoeuvring it out of sight into a space beside a dirty white van and a clapped out Volvo. It wouldn’t do if someone noted the number.

  Glass crunched under her feet, and the smell of beer mixed with all sorts of other unsavoury aromas, nauseated her. A car trundled along the road and she stepped back into the shadows. After it vanished round a corner she hurried over to the stairwell and climbed to the third floor.

  A cat hissed at her when she emerged onto the walkway, and she sideswiped it with her foot, sending it yowling into the stairwell. The walkway was deserted but she made sure the hood obscured her face as she walked towards Paul’s flat.

  It was in darkness, and the door was locked. She’d thought he would be at home and had been practising what she was going to say. But this was even better. Now she could surprise him.

  It only took her five minutes to return to the car, take a screwdriver from the toolkit, and return to Paul’s door. After that it was easy to prise the lock open and enter the flat. She would wait for him inside. Surprise him.

  * * * *

  The door swung open at his touch. That was strange. He was sure he’d locked it. He flicked the light switch, nothing happened. Damned fuses must have blown. He felt his way along the hallway to the cupboard containing the breaker box, there was a torch in there and he’d soon have the electric on again.

  Something moved in the darkness at the end of the corridor. He stopped, alert to the smallest sound.

  Something rustled, and the shadows moved again.

  ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘Hello, Daddy. Have you missed me?’

  The voice reminded him of something or someone. Childlike, and at the same time, seductive. It was a voice he hadn’t heard for five years. A voice he’d never expected to hear again.

  ‘Jade?’

  Time shifted, and he returned to the day his daughter had vanished without trace.

  ‘Yes, Daddy.’

  ‘Oh, how I’ve missed you. I knew you didn’t mean it when you said you never wanted to see me again, I knew you would come back to me. We loved each other too much for you to stay away for ever.’

  In the silence that followed he could hear her breathing.

  ‘Let me sort the lights so I can look at you.’

  ‘No, Daddy. I’ve been in the dark so long, I like it.’

  Past and present collided. It was impossible. He knew it was impossible, but he wanted to believe it was her, wanted to believe it so much he convinced himself it could be her. He fumbled in his pocket for his lighter. He had to see her. His hand found th
e lighter and he flicked it on.

  ‘But you’re . . . ’ The stab of the needle in his neck, cut him short.

  The lighter flicked off and he slapped his other hand on the spot where she had stabbed him.

  ‘What have you done, Jade?’ He had trouble enunciating the words, and he felt peculiar. His vision blurred and his bones felt heavy. It was as if they’d melted into his feet. He leaned against the wall. It swayed at his touch and he slid down until he was unable to slide any further. The weight of his body made him topple sideways until he was lying flat. Cotton wool encased him in a warm glow and he was back in the past again. Back when he and Jade had been happy. He reached out to stroke her cheek. ‘My baby,’ he said, and then he floated away.

  * * * *

  The mixture of heroin and GHB in the syringe was massive, and it only took a moment for Paul to succumb to the effects of the drug in his bloodstream.

  Jade watched him slide into a stupor; it had been easy. She sat back on her heels and stroked his face. ‘Poor Daddy,’ she murmured. ‘You always told me I loved you. All the time you were doing those things. Proving our love, you used to say. But I never loved you, Daddy. I just said I did.’

  Paul’s lips formed a lopsided smile and his eyes had difficulty focusing.

  ‘Maybe a little more,’ Jade murmured.

  She stood up and felt her way to the cupboard where she had turned off the electric. When she flicked the master switch the lights came back on. ‘That’s better I can see what I’m doing now.’ Bending down she removed the lighter from Paul’s grasp and patted his head. ‘I’ll be back in a minute.’

  The kitchen was a mess, dirty dishes in the sink, mouldy food in the saucepans, the sound of a mouse scarpering back to its home in the skirting board.

  ‘Tut, tut, Daddy. How can you live like this?’

  She pulled open a drawer in the sink unit, then another one, and at last found what she was looking for. Picking a spoon out of the drawer she looked for someplace to put it down, but there didn’t seem to be a clear space anywhere. With a sigh, she picked up a cup and plate and tossed them onto the mountain of dishes in the sink. She laid the spoon on the small area she’d cleared and rummaged in her pocket for the packet of powder. It was the pure stuff, lovely and white, not that nasty brown stuff the dealers peddled. After sprinkling it in the spoon and adding a drop of water, she lifted it up and flicked the lighter on, holding the flame beneath the spoon until the mixture bubbled and melted. Laying the spoon back on the table she took the syringe and syphoned the liquid into it.

  ‘Here we go, Daddy,’ she said when she returned to his side. ‘This will make you feel good and your worries will all be over.’

  She plunged the syringe into his neck. ‘Goodnight, Daddy. Sleep tight.’

  Jade watched him slide deeper into a comatose state. When she was satisfied he was beyond help, she grabbed his heels and pulled him through to the lounge.

  She laid him out on the floor, crossing his arms across his chest, and carefully placed the jade beads in his eyes. ‘To remind you of me,’ she said.

  She turned her attention to his computer. ‘Let’s have a nice picture show. I’m sure you’ll have some lovely photos on here.’

  It didn’t take her long to crack his password and find his hidden files.

  ‘Ah, yes,’ she murmured, combining all his photos into one file and setting them to appear on the monitor in a slide show. ‘I’m sure the police will find these interesting.’

  She turned off all the lights and let herself out as quietly as she’d entered, leaving the door ajar.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Wednesday, 14 March

  It was still dark outside when Diane woke. Jade had come to her during the night and told her she was happy and everything was going to be all right, and her mother’s worries and distress were over and she should get on with her life again.

  ‘Will you come home?’ Diane had asked.

  Jade hadn’t answered, simply told her she would always live on in Diane’s heart and she shouldn’t worry about her, and she shouldn’t try to find her.

  ‘I came back to do what I had to do,’ she said, ‘but now it’s done I can rest again.’

  A puff of wind seeped through the window which was opened an inch at the bottom causing the curtains to flutter. Even in the coldest weather Diane needed fresh air in her bedroom, and now she snuggled further down in the bed, pulling the duvet round her neck.

  She lay, luxuriating in the warmth, while the need to rise and punish herself, diminished. The need to scrub and clean was in abeyance and she was able to think about Jade without tormenting herself. She knew her daughter was safe, and was convinced she would return when she was ready.

  Daylight was sneaking into the room when Emma tapped and opened her door. ‘I wondered where you were,’ she said. ‘I’m used to you being up before me.’

  Diane patted the bed. ‘Come sit beside me.’

  Emma walked over and perched on the edge. She frowned. ‘You’re different,’ she said.

  Diane grasped her hand. ‘Jade came to me last night. She said I wasn’t to worry any more and she was safe.’

  ‘You mean you saw her?’

  Diane nodded.

  ‘It must have been a dream.’ Emma’s frown deepened.

  ‘I don’t think so. She was as real as you are now.’

  ‘But that’s impossible.’

  ‘No, Emma. It was real.’

  Emma withdrew her hand from Diane’s grasp. ‘I’ll go and put the kettle on. You’ll feel better after a cup of tea.’

  Diane swung her legs out of the bed after Emma left the room, but she could hear her whispering to Ryan outside her bedroom door.

  Well, let them whisper all they liked. She knew what she had seen.

  * * * *

  ‘What’s up?’ Ryan had been waiting for Emma on the landing when she came out of Diane’s bedroom. ‘Has something happened to Mum?’

  ‘You could say that.’ Emma kept her voice low. ‘She thinks she’s seen Jade.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Speak quietly, she’ll hear.’ Emma glanced at the closed bedroom door. ‘She says Jade came to her during the night.’

  ‘She must have been dreaming.’

  ‘I said that, but she’s convinced it was real.’ Emma grabbed his arm. ‘I’m worried about her. I think she’s going round the twist. She’s become convinced Jade has come back, and now she’s started seeing her. D’you think we should get on to the GP for a referral to her psychiatrist?’

  ‘She won’t like that. You know how she is.’

  Emma’s brain whirled. She didn’t know what to do about her mother. She loved her so much it hurt, and she wanted to protect her from harm. But what could she do when Diane was set on a course that could only lead to disaster? If she did nothing, her mother’s mental state might deteriorate further. And if she had her referred to a psychiatrist it would mean the pills again, and they almost destroyed her the last time. Emma wasn’t sure she could allow that. What to do, what to do?

  ‘Maybe we should leave it for now and see how things develop.’ Ryan’s voice cut into her thoughts.

  ‘I don’t know.’ Emma let go of Ryan’s arm. ‘Maybe you’re right. But we need to keep an eye on her, make sure she’s safe.’

  ‘You don’t think she’s suicidal again, do you?’ Panic made Ryan’s voice shrill.

  ‘No, not as long as she believes Jade is alive. The problem will be when she realizes it’s all wishful thinking on her part, and Jade is never coming back. I think she might be suicidal then.’

  Emma glanced at her mother’s bedroom door again. She could hear movement behind it. ‘Come on, I said I’d make her a pot of tea. Maybe we’ll all feel differently once we’ve had breakfast.’

  * * * *

  The kettle was on the boil when Diane entered the kitchen.

  ‘Tea’s almost made.’

  Emma’s voice was bright and cheery. Too br
ight and cheery for Diane’s liking. She looked at Ryan, and he grinned at her.

  ‘What are you two up to?’ Diane grabbed three mugs from the worktop and planked them on the table.

  ‘Why should we be up to something?’ Emma poured tea into the mugs. ‘We’re trying to be helpful.’

  Diane snorted. ‘Helpful? When have you ever been up early enough to make me tea in the morning? You’re up to something. I can sense it.’

  Ryan studied his cup. Diane thought he looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else but here in the kitchen, listening to his mother and Emma narking at each other.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Emma said. ‘We aren’t up any earlier than usual, it’s you who is later. Anyway, why don’t you drink the tea I made you.’ She slumped into a chair. ‘I was trying to be nice, that’s what, and that’s all the thanks I get.’

  Diane felt a sudden pang of remorse. Why was it she could never appreciate anything Emma did for her? She knew her daughter would do anything to please her, but nothing Emma did made any difference to her feelings. And she knew why that was. It was because she wasn’t Jade. Emma was the mirror image of Jade, but she could never be her. Jade was bubbly and full of life, while Emma was quiet and introvert, lacking in self esteem and prone to depression.

  ‘Thank you for making the tea,’ Diane said, but it was too late, she’d ruined Emma’s attempt to please her.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Bill woke early, a scream hovering on his lips, while the nightmare hid in the recesses of his brain.

  He stared into the darkness, reluctant to get out of bed, but knew if he slept again the nightmare would return. He untangled the sheet wrapping his body in a stranglehold, while the duvet, supposed to keep him warm, lay in a heap on the floor. Leaning over, he flicked on the bedside lamp, relieved it worked. He’d thought the previous night’s electricity blackout in the flat was due to an unpaid bill, but the answer was simpler. The hallway bulb had blown causing the breaker box to turn everything off. There was still no light in the hallway, but at least there were lights everywhere else.