Detective Lucy Harwin 01-The Lost Children

by Helen Phifer

  Ellie’s cheeks turned crimson and Lucy felt a small sliver of hope. Somewhere underneath all that angst and hate was her little girl, who she’d brought up to have good manners and morals. Her little girl, who knew that stealing and underage drinking was wrong.

  ‘Are they pressing charges?’ Lucy asked.

  Jane shook her head. ‘No, because Ellie gave them the stuff back and apologised. They have said that we can deal with it by way of a community resolution.’

  Lucy would need to thank the security staff at Debenhams. She knew them well from back in her days as a response officer, when she had spent hours in the cramped security room in the winter, keeping warm and watching their CCTV system for shoplifters.

  ‘Thank god for that,’ she said.

  ‘I will need to speak to my supervisor about today’s incidents,’ Jane added. ‘She isn’t in until Wednesday, so I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to keep Ellie at home until I find out what we’re going to do. Is that OK?’

  George nodded. ‘Yes, thank you. That’s fine.’

  Lucy had forgotten it was Friday, when Ellie normally came to hers. Crap. She couldn’t take her; there was too much to do at work. She was pretty much going to be working flat out all weekend. She looked across at George.

  ‘It’s only my second day back at work and I’ve got a major incident going on. I can’t have her this weekend.’

  Ellie glared at her. ‘Since when did you bother anyway? It’s always work, work, work.’

  George threw his car keys to Ellie. ‘You go and get in the car. It’s just across the road. And don’t speak to your mother like that. I’ll be down in a minute.’

  Ellie stood up, making her escape. Jane waited until she’d left. ‘Lucy, I don’t want to upset you further, but I think you should know that she blames everything that happens on you. It’s as if she hates the very ground that you walk on. I’ll speak to the psychology team on Monday and see if we can hurry her referral up.’

  Lucy bit her tongue, wanting to tell the arrogant woman in front of her to fuck off, but then of course she would think it was no wonder Ellie was behaving this way. Her phone began to vibrate in her pocket. ‘Look, I’m really sorry, but I’m on duty and up to my neck in it. I have to go.’

  Jane smiled at her, which upset Lucy even more.

  George nodded. ‘Me too. I’ll speak with her and try to get this sorted out. Sorry, this episode is all my fault.’

  Jane reached out and patted his arm. ‘Don’t go blaming yourself because you’re happy, Ellie is going to have to learn to accept the consequences of life.’

  George nodded and turned to leave. Lucy pushed past him, eager to get out of there. The anger was burning so hot inside her chest that she thought she might explode. That smug woman had not shown her one bit of respect.

  ‘Lucy, wait.’

  She turned to look at him. Despite being ten years older than her, George still had his good looks – although his dark brown hair was now peppered with silver, and the laughter lines around his hazel eyes were a little deeper than they had once been.

  ‘I’m sorry, Lucy; it wasn’t meant to happen like this.’

  ‘What? Ellie finding out, or me?’

  ‘Both of you. I told Rosie that I didn’t want any more children, and she swore that she didn’t either. We were arguing last night when Ellie walked in and heard us. It’s all very early days and I wanted to be the one to tell you. In person.’

  ‘You don’t owe me any explanations, George. You have your life and I have mine. It’s fine. Congratulations. I hope you’ll both be very happy.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Lucy. I always seem to hurt you so much when I never mean to. I’ll sort Ellie out this weekend; you go to work. How are you, by the way?’

  She nodded. ‘I’m good. There’s been a murder, so I’ve been thrown straight in at the deep end.’

  ‘You be careful, Lucy. I’ll be in touch.’

  She turned and ran down the remaining stairs so that he couldn’t see the tears that were welling inside her eyes. She tried so hard not to love him, but she did and always would. The nights after he’d left her she’d lain in their bed, trying her best to hate him, and she hadn’t been able to. The guilt was always there in the back of her mind: if she hadn’t worked so hard or drunk so much, perhaps things could have worked out a lot differently between them.

  As she reached the bottom of the staircase, her phone began vibrating again. She took it out to answer it, glad to have the distraction of work to ease her still-broken heart.

  Jane Toppan watched from the window. She was worried about Ellie. She liked the girl’s dad, who was rather attractive, and she could see why Ellie was at loggerheads with her mother. The woman was a workaholic, who, according to her daughter, liked to party just as hard in her spare time. That said, she hadn’t looked one bit like Jane had imagined – she’d been expecting to meet a frazzled alcoholic, but Lucy had looked anything but frazzled. She was very attractive. A bit stressed, maybe. Although, after thirty years of working with troubled kids, Jane knew that looks could be deceiving.

  She was taking early retirement soon and couldn’t wait to be able to spend her days stress and tantrum free. She was getting too old for all this bullshit now. Things were a lot different now to when she’d started; back then, they hadn’t pandered to the kids like they had to now. They would be given a good shake and told to sort themselves out. The adults had been in charge in those days – now the adults were the ones being told what to do and being run ragged by the kids. Having to bow down to the little shits. It made her sick.

  Jane did like Ellie, though, and was determined to do whatever she could to help her. Logging off the computer, she gathered her things together, glad that she only worked a half-day on Fridays. She caught sight of her cropped ash-blonde hair in the window and smiled. Her hairdresser had done a fabulous job this time. And now she was out of here for the weekend. No teenagers or stress, just lots of sleep and sex. There was no better antidote to keep you younger.

  She turned off the lights, locking her office door behind her. The rest of the kids had finished for the weekend; the only person left was Mel, who for some reason volunteered here a couple of days a week.

  ‘Mel, come on. We’re going now; time to call it a day.’

  The quiet girl came running down the stairs with her coat and bag.

  ‘Thanks. Have a nice weekend, Jane.’

  ‘You too, Mel.’

  Jane walked the short distance to her car and got in, relieved to be free of work and the nightmare teenagers for a couple of days.

  17

  Col squealed to a halt outside the accident and emergency department. Mattie opened the car door to find him in full conversation with someone on his radio.

  ‘That’s illegal, using your handset whilst driving. And pretty shit driving at that.’

  Col stuck his middle finger up at him and carried on talking into his radio. Mattie wondered what it was that had the normally reserved Col so uptight. Finally, Col ended the conversation and turned to Mattie.

  ‘That was Mason. He’s been part of the search team that went through the hospital and grounds this morning. Guess what one of the builders handed to him a couple of minutes ago?’

  Mattie shrugged.

  ‘Some builder only went and found a wallet near to where they’re excavating across the road. It’s a bit muddy, but there’s a driving licence with a faded picture and a bank card inside. There’s also a train ticket with a reserved seat for the eighteenth of September.’

  ‘Get fucking in. It would probably fit with the timescale of our vic. What does the licence say?’

  ‘Edwin Wilkes. Of course, it might not be our vic. Mason’s on his way back to the station with it.’

  ‘And it doesn’t belong to one of the builders working on the site?’

  ‘Apparently none of them are over the age of forty. And no one is called Edwin.’

  Mattie pulled out his phone, di
alling Lucy’s number. ‘Boss, where are you?’

  ‘On my way back; do you need picking up? I completely forgot that you didn’t have a car, sorry about that.’

  ‘No, Col’s picked me up. One of the builders found a wallet on the site opposite the hospital.’

  ‘Does it have ID inside?’

  ‘Yes. Not only does it have ID, it also has a reserved train ticket, so I’ll get onto that as soon as possible. Mason is on his way back to the station. We’ll meet you up at CSI.’

  Mattie knew that Lucy would be punching the air in that green tin can she was driving. This was the break they needed; it would change the whole ballgame. Of course, the wallet wasn’t definitely their victim’s – it might be a huge coincidence. Mattie had a gut feeling though that it was, and that by teatime, their John Smith would be identified and his family informed.

  Audrey Stone listened to the patient sitting across from her as he told his tale of why he hadn’t followed his diet plan this week. She had to lift her hand to stifle her yawn. Stop telling me crap; face the truth. You’re nothing but a greedy bastard who has no self-control and we both know you’re never going to lose any weight.

  ‘I know it’s hard, Brian, but come on. You need to do this for your own sake. Did you fill out a food diary for me?’

  He shook his head, the misery and shame radiating from him in waves. Audrey didn’t care; if he was going to waste her time, he could wallow in his self-pity. She wanted to go home, make something to eat, then put her feet up with a large glass of wine.

  ‘Right, listen to me,’ she said. ‘Tomorrow is a new day and I want you to read the diet sheet I gave you six weeks ago and make a start. You could have lost nearly a stone by now if you’d got your act together. It’s not rocket science, Brian; all you have to do is stop stuffing everything in your fridge down your throat.’

  She watched and felt a glimmer of satisfaction inside her chest when his cheeks flared bright red. He nodded and pushed his bulk off the chair.

  ‘Sorry, nurse, you’re right. I’ll try my best this week.’

  He turned and began to shuffle out of the room. He didn’t shut the door behind him, so she marched over and slammed it with a smile on her face. She knew she had been mean; that was how she was and how she always would be. She enjoyed watching people squirm under her scrutiny. If the doctors at the surgery ever heard her, or one of the patients put in a complaint, she’d be in trouble. But that wouldn’t matter; she only worked here part-time because it got her out of the house and earned her some pocket money. She’d been nursing since she was twenty-one and enjoyed the power it gave her.

  As she put on her coat and grabbed her handbag from under the desk, she wondered if she should go for a drive or go shopping before she went back home. Maybe she should do something different for once. Every day was the same. She had the same routines, depending upon whether or not she went to work.

  Audrey closed the door of the consultation room and locked it behind her;. Lauren, a receptionist who lived a few doors up from Audrey, rushed past, her arms full of patient notes.

  ‘Bye, Audrey. Have you heard the news?’

  Audrey shook her head, expecting some gossip about which doctor was sleeping with which receptionist or nurse.

  ‘There’s been a murder,’ Lauren said. ‘Something to do with the old hospital. That place has always scared the life out of me; they should have knocked it down years ago. I never have understood why it’s just been left there rotting all these years.’

  ‘Who’s been murdered, and do you mean the old asylum?’

  ‘Yes, The Moore. That creepy old place. I have no idea who the victim is. It said on the radio that a body had been found inside, and the police were treating it as suspicious.’

  Audrey shrugged. It meant nothing to her. It was probably some drug addict or homeless person who was dossing in there. ‘See you next week, Lauren.’

  As Audrey walked to her car, though, she found that she couldn’t help but wonder who had come to such an untimely end in the asylum. She’d only driven past it last week, and had parked for a few moments opposite the main gates, reminiscing about the good old days. The days when she’d been young and carefree, running ward thirteen almost single-handedly – with the help of the doctors, of course.

  She had done her training at The Moore and spent all her time on the same ward. It was there that she’d discovered just how much pleasure she got from being mean to the patients. If she was having a bad day she could take it out on the kids in there, and nobody would be any the wiser.

  The hospital had housed thousands of adults before they’d decided to turn it into a children’s psychiatric hospital. The sheer number of children who had been diagnosed as mentally ill back then was beyond comprehension. The Moore had been a dumping ground for anyone who didn’t fit into society. Audrey remembered the face of every single child who’d been in her care; the names were a little harder. All except for that little monster who had killed her own baby brother – Audrey would never forget Lizzy Clements. She had been brought in screaming like a banshee that night, and they’d had to try to sedate her in the ambulance to even get her to the hospital. A defiant little witch, she’d never settled and had caused all sorts of unrest between the other children. Especially that horrible teenage girl, and the little kid who stuck his tongue out at everyone. Audrey had slapped the kid across the face more than a few times, which would be frowned upon now. That was the whole problem with society today: the little bastards who played up never got a good slap like they had back then.

  On her way home, she called in at the corner shop for a paper to see if there was anything about the body in it. Then, grumbling that she couldn’t get parked outside her own house, she parked in front of Lauren’s and walked the short distance, her head bent so she didn’t have to speak to any of her neighbours if they passed her. Pulling her door key from her pocket, she fiddled with the lock, which really needed replacing. She put her shoulder against the door, shoved it hard and stepped inside. There was a crisp white envelope on the floor. She bent down, picking it up and placing it on the hall table – she was too intrigued to read the headlines of the paper to take any more notice of it.

  18

  Lucy arrived back at the station in a much better mood than when she’d left Mattie. Her anger and disappointment with Ellie had been pushed to the back of her mind for the time being –besides, this mess was George’s and not hers for a change. She was buzzing at the thought that they might be on the brink of identifying the victim.

  The CSI office was busy. Mattie and Col were standing behind the desk where Jack was sitting. He had his gloves on and was busy spreading the contents of the wallet out onto the desk, ready to photograph and bag up. Lucy leant over Jack’s shoulder.

  ‘Can you send me the photos, and has anyone tried ringing the train station?’

  Mattie nodded. ‘Yep, same as always. Data protection. My mate is working today though, so if we actually go and speak to him he might be able to log onto the system to double-check the booking.’

  ‘Have you done a driving licence check?’

  Col rolled his eyes at her. ‘Yes, boss, and an address check confirms that Mr Edwin Wilkes is registered as living at one, Bay View Gardens along with his wife, Florence. He’s not on our system at all.’

  ‘Excellent news about the address,’ Lucy said. ‘Come on, Mattie, let’s go and see if his wife is home and whether she’s noticed her husband is missing.’

  Tanisha, who worked behind the front desk in the police station, was busy chatting on her phone in the small back room. Her friend had just announced on Facebook that she’d thrown her boyfriend out for cheating on her. The loud swoosh as the automatic front entrance doors opened made Tanisha look up at the CCTV monitor, irritated to be disturbed at this crucial point in her conversation. If it was one of the regulars coming in to ask for their seized property back, they could wait until she had the full gossip before she’d go and attend t
o them.

  It wasn’t a regular. Standing at the counter was the cutest elderly lady Tanisha had ever seen. She was looking around with a confused expression on her face. Tanisha ended the call, putting her phone down on the desk. She’d always had a bit of a soft spot for the oldies; the woman, who had to be in her seventies, wasn’t very steady on her feet and had a walking stick. How on earth had she got here? This new station was very nice, but it was miles from anywhere, and Tanisha knew the reason for that. It was to cut down on the timewasters and foot traffic they’d got whilst at the old station, which had been slap bang in the middle of the town centre.

  She walked towards the counter and smiled. ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘I hope so, dear.’

  ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘Well, I seem to have lost my husband; he hasn’t come home. He went away to visit a friend for a couple of days, and I haven’t spoken him to him since I dropped him off in a taxi at the station over a week ago.’

  ‘Have you spoken to his friend to see where he is?’

  ‘Yes, and this is where it gets a bit worrying, because he said that he never turned up in the first place. I’m such a bad person; I feel terrible because we’d had a bit of an argument before he left and I was glad to see the back of him. He’s getting a bit forgetful and he’s always been a stubborn man, so I assumed when he didn’t turn up yesterday he was stopping on at his friend’s another day. I should have phoned his friend earlier to double-check that he’d arrived.’

  She began to cry and Tanisha let herself out of the security doors to go and help her. Alarm bells were ringing in her head. She needed to find one of the detectives. She led the woman into one of the small interview rooms off the reception area, and sat her down on a chair.

  ‘If you could give me some details, I’ll try and find an officer to come and speak to you.’