Gone Astray

by Michelle Davies

  ‘I don’t think so. He’s been under a huge amount of strain these past few days but there was no obvious sign he was cracking up. Lesley maybe, but not him.’

  Mack lay in a cubicle in the A&E department as he waited to be seen by the consultant.

  ‘You don’t both have to be here,’ Lesley told Maggie. ‘You’ll stay, won’t you?’ she directed at Belmar, who nodded.

  Maggie was baffled by the brush-off. ‘No, we should both stay for the time being.’

  ‘Aren’t there other things you need to get on with?’ said Lesley pointedly and she nudged her hand against Maggie’s pocket.

  In all the drama, Maggie had forgotten about Rosie’s old phone.

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Lesley even more forcefully. ‘Belmar can call if we need you.’

  ‘I’ll drop by the station to see if there are any new leads we need to know about. I’ll ring as soon as I know anything,’ she told him.

  He ducked out of the cubicle behind her.

  ‘What the hell’s going on?’ he said in a hushed voice. ‘What are you not telling me?’

  ‘There’s nothing to tell.’

  ‘Do I look stupid?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Maggie replied.

  ‘I don’t believe you. Just remember that we’re meant to be a team and if you fuck up I’m in trouble too.’

  ‘I know that.’

  He rubbed his chin. ‘Well?’

  ‘Okay, I’ll tell you,’ she said, and she filled him in about Rosie’s old phone. ‘I am going to give it to Umpire. Once I’ve taken a look at it.’

  He paused for a moment, as though weighing up the consequences, then nodded. ‘Sounds like a good plan. Christ knows we need some new leads on this case. All right, I’ll cover for you here. Let me know how it goes.’

  There was a sign on the wall opposite indicating the way out and moments later Maggie found herself outside in the fresh air. She slipped Rosie’s phone into her bag and was about to head back to the car park when she saw the sign for the main hospital building next door. All thoughts of going to the station evaporated and she walked straight through the sliding doors.

  In the middle of the foyer, on a stand drilled into the floor, was a floor plan of the building. Different colours denoted the various departments and Maggie scanned it until her gaze fell upon blocks of blue indicating the general wards. They were split between the second and third floors. She headed towards the lifts.

  It took her three wards before she found what she was looking for. Reaching the fourth, she slipped through the double doors behind a patient in pyjamas who stank of cigarette smoke and had most likely just come from outside. The nurses’ station was unmanned, so she poked her head round the first doorway she came across. Inside was a ward with four metal-framed beds separated by curtains and surrounded by a few hard plastic chairs. Two elderly women occupied the two beds closest to the door and in the one in the far right corner lay Kathryn Stockton.

  Maggie barely had time to react before Kathryn’s mum Sarah saw her. Her chair scraped noisily against the floor as she pushed it away from her daughter’s bedside to stand up, causing one of the elderly women to tut. Oblivious, Sarah rushed to greet Maggie, engulfing her in a cloud of syrupy perfume.

  ‘How nice you’ve come to visit. First Lily, now you!’

  ‘I wanted to see how Kathryn is.’

  Sarah took her by the hand and led her to Kathryn’s bedside. The girl was awake. Maggie flinched at the extent of her injuries: the teenager’s right eye socket was swollen to the size of a plum and her eyelid, clamped shut, was almost black, as was the skin beneath her left eye. There were vivid grazes on both of her cheeks and her lips were split and swollen. Whoever attacked her had done so with some force to inflict such appalling injuries to her face.

  ‘I’m so sorry, Kathryn,’ Maggie said softly. ‘We’ll do everything we can to find whoever did this to you.’ She meant it sincerely too. Whatever concerns she had about the girl and her behaviour towards Rosie, seeing her in such a state made her sick to her stomach.

  ‘Sit down,’ said Sarah, noisily pulling another chair up to the bed. ‘I’m afraid these aren’t very comfortable though. I did think about having her moved somewhere nicer –’ Maggie assumed she meant to a private ward – ‘but it’s only for one more night. She should be able to go home in the morning.’

  Maggie lowered herself into the chair. She wanted to talk to Kathryn alone but couldn’t just ask her mum to leave. Thankfully, Sarah provided the solution herself by announcing she had to use the bathroom.

  ‘Would you mind watching her? I shouldn’t be too long.’

  As Sarah reached for her bag, Maggie glimpsed the neck of a glass bottle with a red screw cap that looked suspiciously like a well-known brand of vodka.

  ‘Sure. Take your time,’ she said.

  As Sarah hurried out of the ward, shoes squeaking against the linoleum floor, Maggie asked Kathryn if she was up for chatting. She nodded.

  ‘Have you been interviewed yet?’

  ‘Yes, the tall one came. He was nice this time,’ Kathryn mumbled, her swollen lips compromising her ability to talk.

  Maggie assumed from the description that she meant Umpire.

  ‘You must’ve been terrified when the attack happened.’

  ‘I was. I begged him to stop but he wouldn’t.’

  ‘It was a he? You got a good look at who did it then?’

  ‘Not really. He came up from behind.’

  ‘But you know it was a he because he hit you from the front?’

  ‘Yes.’ A tear slid out of the corner of the girl’s left eye. Her right eye was too swollen for any to escape. ‘He really hurt me.’

  ‘Can you remember anything about him at all?’

  ‘He had on a dark blue top and a hat that might’ve been the same colour or it was black. I think his hair was light.’

  ‘Light brown?’

  ‘No, lighter than that.’

  ‘It sounds like you got a pretty good look.’

  ‘I guess.’

  ‘Kathryn, did you recognize him? Is it someone you know?’

  ‘Stop it!’ she moaned, turning her head from side to side as she dodged the question. An extreme reaction and Maggie couldn’t tell whether it was put on or not.

  ‘Kathryn, if you know who did this to you, you have to tell us.’

  ‘Even if it was someone I knew, I wouldn’t say! They might come back and do it again.’ She tossed around on the bed and burst into tears. As sobs wracked her body, Maggie grew concerned.

  ‘Kathryn, I can see you’re scared but you can’t let the person who did this get away with it.’

  There was a long drawn-out pause punctuated by Kathryn hiccupping as she fought to get her tears under control. Maggie sat patiently by the bed and hoped Sarah wouldn’t come back yet. Then, after what felt like an age, Kathryn’s swollen lips parted again and she whispered, ‘I think GS was behind it.’

  Maggie’s eyes widened with surprise. ‘So you do know who GS is?’

  ‘Yes, but I can’t tell you. I don’t want to get hurt again. I think they did this to shut me up.’

  ‘Kathryn, you must tell us.’

  ‘No,’ she sobbed. ‘You can’t make me. It’s my own stupid fault. I should never have left Rosie alone in the garden.’

  ‘Rosie? Are you saying GS definitely has something to do with her going missing?’

  ‘Please stop. I don’t want to talk to you any more.’

  ‘Why are you covering up for him? Is he threatening you like he did Rosie? Is it because you introduced them in the first place? Has he taken photographs of you too?’

  Kathryn recoiled with horror. ‘How . . . ?’

  ‘How do we know? We found the picture of Rosie in the green shoes I asked you about. Did you set her up so GS could take it, Kathryn?’

  ‘No! I didn’t do anything, it wasn’t me. Please leave me alone.’

  Maggie
glanced over her shoulder and saw the two elderly women in the other beds watching them intently. She dropped her voice to a whisper.

  ‘Not until you tell me who GS is. Maybe I should talk to Rosie’s parents about it. Oh, but I can’t, because her dad is next door in A&E hooked up to a drip because the stress of losing his daughter has made him collapse, while her mum’s at his bedside crying her eyes out. Shall I tell them you won’t tell me who GS is?’

  ‘Why are you being so horrible?’

  ‘I’m not,’ said Maggie, aware she was perilously close to crossing a line by questioning her so aggressively. ‘I’m worried about you. I know you’re scared but I can help you if you just tell me who it is. I won’t let anything happen to you.’

  ‘Leave me alone!’ Kathryn was shouting now.

  ‘I’m not going until you tell me his name. I know he’s somehow involved in Rosie’s disappearance.’

  ‘Why won’t you listen to me?’ Kathryn sobbed. ‘I can’t tell you. I’ll be in so much trouble if I do.’

  ‘No you won’t, we’ll protect you.’

  Kathryn began to scream at the top of her voice and kept on until a nurse came running into the ward. Maggie jumped to her feet.

  ‘What’s going on?’ the nurse demanded.

  ‘Please make her leave, she’s upsetting me,’ Kathryn wailed, pointing at Maggie.

  The nurse turned on her. ‘Who are you?’

  She flashed her warrant card. ‘I’m working on the Rosie Kinnock case.’

  ‘You should’ve cleared this with us first,’ said the nurse angrily. ‘Now please leave. Miss Stockton needs to rest.’

  Maggie wouldn’t budge. ‘No, I need her to answer me. Kathryn, who is GS?’

  The girl screamed again. The nurse, apoplectic now, ordered Maggie to leave. ‘I’ll call security if you don’t go now.’

  Maggie knew she’d pushed it as far as she could.

  ‘Fine, I’ll go.’ As she reached the doorway, she fired a parting shot. ‘I will find out who GS is, Kathryn, and why you’re covering for him. This doesn’t end here.’

  51

  Shaking with frustration, Maggie stalked out of the ward, into the lift and back down into the hospital’s foyer. She stamped her feet, but the thin soles of her loafers barely made a sound. Thick-soled boots she could stomp in would have been far better, or spiky heels that gave a satisfying clack as their metal tips hit concrete – she wanted shoes that could scream for her.

  She knew she should go straight to the station to brief Umpire but she needed to get her thoughts in order first. The spectre of the Megan Fowler case still loomed large, despite their conversation at her flat, and she knew he would be furious that she’d questioned Kathryn without his say-so. A defence lawyer might even question the validity of the girl’s statement if it was found she gave it under duress. Maggie didn’t want to disappoint Umpire again, not when they were back on such a good footing.

  She decided to leave her car at the hospital and walk to the station to clear her head. On her way, close to the centre of town, was a park. Stretched across sixteen acres, it had a children’s play area, tennis courts, bandstand and a small lake that at some point in its history was nicknamed the Puddle by locals and the tag stuck. On the shore of the Puddle was a small cafe her parents used to take her and Lou to as children, where they would badger them to buy fishing nets on bamboo sticks so they could hunt for minnows in the shallows. Their dad always cracked and reached for his wallet first.

  It had stopped raining but was still overcast. Maggie bought a bottle of water from the cafe then walked along the paved path lining the water’s edge. She was sweaty enough from her walk for the water to look inviting, although she didn’t imagine the swans that called it home would take kindly to her plunging in, nor the park wardens whose job it was to ensure the lake was free of humans unless they were in boats that cost £15 to hire for twenty minutes.

  The setting made her think of Lou. She tried her number and it went to voicemail, so she sent another text, asking her to call. They’d had worse rows than the one that morning and she knew they’d get over it. She’d go round in person later, say sorry and tell Jude and Scotty that of course she’d take them to Pizza Hut. It would blow over. It had to. The thought of not seeing the children terrified her.

  As she put her phone back in her bag, she caught sight of something glinting prettily at the bottom of it. She was confused for a second then it hit her: Rosie’s BlackBerry.

  She scrabbled to pull it out and switch it on. Her heart leapt when she saw it was still fully charged, with an activated SIM. When she went straight to the call history, her suspicions were confirmed: the BlackBerry was the phone Rosie had used to call Emma Mitchell.

  Maggie opened the text message folder and gasped. There, in black and white, were dozens of texts Rosie had received from a caller she’d saved in her contacts simply as GS. Some of the texts bordered on nice, but the contents of the majority were so vile that she wanted to throw the phone down in disgust. Despite a fondness for largely indecipherable text speak, GS made it very clear what kind of sexual favours were expected from Rosie. Maggie could see Rosie had not replied to any of them and the last message GS had sent was three months ago, which must’ve been just before she switched to her iPhone.

  As tempted as she was to call the number herself and find out who it was, Maggie knew she couldn’t. Instead, as she hurried towards the park exit closest to the police station, she used her own phone to call Steve. He answered on the second ring and sounded upbeat for someone who had just confessed to his boss that he’d cocked up.

  ‘It’s me. Have you spoken to Umpire yet?’

  Steve’s voice hardened. ‘I’m just about to. He’s been tied up with something.’

  Maggie didn’t believe him. ‘If you don’t tell him, I will.’

  ‘I thought we were friends,’ he said huffily.

  ‘We are. But this is serious, Steve. You have to tell Umpire about the sighting.’

  ‘Is this why you’ve called? To have a go at me?’

  ‘No, I need a mobile number checked.’ She read GS’s number from Rosie’s phone then repeated it. ‘Can you run it through the system?’

  ‘Give me five minutes.’

  Next she rang Pearl, a CID admin support assistant she was friendly with, and begged her for a favour too.

  ‘Is that birdsong I can hear?’ Pearl asked, after Maggie had told her what she needed.

  ‘I’m in the park,’ Maggie explained.

  ‘Bit wet for that, isn’t it?’

  ‘Pearl, can you help me or not?’ said Maggie, trying not to snap.

  ‘Not if it gets me into trouble, young lady.’

  Maggie didn’t blame her for being wary. FLOs didn’t usually call up during an investigation wanting to check alibis.

  ‘Anything happens, it’s back on me,’ she told her. ‘But if I’m right about this, it’ll be fine.’

  Pearl didn’t sound convinced, but said she’d do as Maggie asked.

  ‘Do you want me to email it as an attachment?’

  ‘That would be great.’

  ‘Give me a few minutes to dig it out.’

  Maggie was at the park exit by the time Steve rang back in a panic.

  ‘Tell me where you got this number from,’ he said.

  ‘Remember those diary entries on Rosie’s old laptop I asked you to tell Umpire about?’ she said pointedly. ‘About someone called GS harassing Rosie? The number is stored in her old phone under those initials. I want to know who it is before I speak to the DCI.’

  ‘Shit, Maggie, this is really, really bad,’ said Steve dolefully.

  Her skin prickled with alarm. ‘Why? Whose number is it?’

  ‘It’s registered to an Edward Sinclair, one of the security guards who patrol Burr Way.’

  Maggie’s insides lurched like she was on a fairground ride that had just tipped upside down.

  ‘Steve, he’s not the guard you saw on the CCTV w
ith the suspect?’

  ‘Yes, it’s him.’

  52

  The small metal plaque screwed into the wall said the lift could take up to twelve people. Maggie was grateful to be its only occupant as it ascended steadily from the bowels of the building. The claustrophobia that had dogged her since she was little, from the time Lou locked her in a wardrobe for a joke, added to the nerves she already felt at the prospect of seeing Umpire in person for the first time since he was at her flat yesterday. Only when the lift had jolted to a halt on the station’s third floor and the doors opened to spew her out did her breathing begin to steady.

  Her arrival in the incident room caused heads to swivel in surprise. News of Mack’s hospitalization would be common knowledge by now and as she weaved through the banks of desks towards the front of the room, Maggie guessed the team was wondering why she wasn’t with him and Lesley while he was being treated. One officer she knew, a DC named Nathan, said hello with a raised eyebrow, but Renshaw was less circumspect and declared loudly from her desk, ‘Should you be here?’

  Ignoring her question and the curious stares, Maggie didn’t stop until she reached Umpire, who was deep in conversation with his deputy SIO, a detective inspector called Sol James she knew only by reputation. Umpire faltered when he saw her approaching then smiled. His reaction pleased her.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ he said. ‘How’s Mack?’

  ‘Still waiting to be seen by the consultant but it doesn’t look serious, thankfully. I’ve found out something though, something I think is important, and I thought it was better to tell you in person,’ she said nervously.

  ‘Go on,’ said Umpire.

  ‘Here?’ She could feel her colleagues’ stares boring into her back and didn’t savour having an audience.

  ‘Yes, here’s fine,’ he replied, crossing his arms. As he listened intently, Maggie launched into how she’d come to find out GS’s identity. She didn’t pause for breath, anxious to get to the end of her account before he could interrupt or explode, whichever came first.

  ‘. . . DC Berry checked the number for me just now,’ she finished, hoping that by mentioning Steve in a good light, Umpire might go easier on him later, ‘and it’s registered to Edward Sinclair, a security guard who works for the firm that patrols Burr Way. So it looks like Sinclair’s the one who’s been harassing Rosie, and Kathryn indicated to me that GS might be behind the attack on her last night. It’s just a guess, but Rosie might have nicknamed him GS because it’s the reverse of SG, for Security Guard.’