Gone Astray

by Michelle Davies

  The room went very still. Maggie’s face was inflamed and she couldn’t read Umpire’s expression at all; he just stared at her, unblinking. In the end, it was DI James who gave him a nudge in the side with his elbow and snapped him out of his stupor.

  ‘You’re sure about this?’ said Umpire.

  She handed him Rosie’s BlackBerry.

  ‘The messages were sent from a number registered to him.’

  Umpire’s brow furrowed as he and DI James huddled together to read them. When he looked up, Maggie saw his eyes were flinty and filled with anger. But, to her relief, it wasn’t directed at her.

  ‘It’s eleven thirty now so let’s assume he’s at work. Renshaw, Thomas, I want you to come with me and DI James to bring Sinclair in.’ There was a scuffle of noise as Renshaw and Nathan jumped out of their seats and began pulling on their jackets. ‘Akinyemi,’ he barked at an officer Maggie didn’t know, sitting at the desk next to Nathan, ‘find out where Sinclair lives, get a warrant organized and let Matheson know. I want his place turned upside down for any sign of Rosie.’ He snatched up his suit jacket, which was hanging on the back of a chair, and said to DI James, ‘I’ll let the Chief Constable know what’s going on while we’re on the road.’

  As she watched her colleagues race into action, Maggie felt like the invisible eye of the storm. Had this been a Force CID case, she would most likely have been one of the officers dispatched to arrest Sinclair. Here, as FLO, her job was to stand back and let others follow up her lead.

  ‘Did Kathryn say anything else that makes you think Sinclair is GS?’ Umpire asked her.

  Still waiting for a rebuke, she was momentarily taken aback. ‘Only that whoever attacked her was wearing a dark blue top, which is the same as Sinclair . . .’

  Their eyes locked and she knew immediately what he was thinking. Without a word, his eyes never leaving hers, he picked up the telephone on the desk nearest him and dialled an extension.

  ‘Tom, it’s me, DCI Umpire. Have you got anything back on that photograph of Rosie Kinnock yet?’ He paused for a moment to listen. Maggie’s heart was in her mouth as she waited. ‘You’re sure about that?’ A few more seconds dragged by. ‘Great, thanks.’ He hung up. ‘HTCU have enhanced the image and you were right about it being some kind of clothing. They can’t say exactly what it is, but it looks like woollen material . . .’

  ‘Like a dark blue jumper the guards employed by Umbra security wear,’ she finished for him.

  Her heartbeat accelerated as the implication that Sinclair was the one who took the near-naked picture of Rosie hit home. It was all starting to add up: he had unfettered access to Burr Way, which allowed him to stalk Rosie, and an insider knowledge of the security system at Angel’s Reach, which meant he could’ve easily disabled the CCTV cameras on Tuesday morning before she vanished.

  ‘If it is Sinclair’s jumper in the photograph and we can prove he took the photo, we can get him for taking indecent images of a child and engaging a child in sexual activity just for starters. You’ve done really well with this,’ said Umpire, shrugging on his jacket. DI James already had his on and was waiting by the door to leave, ‘and because of that I’m prepared to overlook the fact you interviewed Kathryn without my knowledge.’

  Maggie had a comeback already prepared.

  ‘Sir, Lesley asked me to check on her while we were at the hospital. I only popped my head round the door and then she got upset.’

  The look he shot her suggested he was no more convinced by her excuse than she was herself. But he seemed prepared to let it go.

  ‘Can I tell Lesley an arrest is imminent?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes. Tell her it’s Edward Sinclair, but that’s it—’

  A sonorous voice broke through their discussion.

  ‘Did someone mention an Edward Sinclair?’

  It was Pearl, the admin support assistant Maggie had called earlier. Almost as wide as she was tall, she waddled up the office towards them, her girth draped in a voluminous navy cotton dress patterned with huge red poppies that demanded attention and matched the shade of her lipstick.

  ‘I thought I recognized you from across the room,’ she said to Maggie, and handed her a sheet of A4 paper. ‘Here, this is what you wanted. It sounds like that Sinclair’s been a very busy boy indeed.’ She was out of breath, even though she’d barely walked twenty paces.

  Maggie read what was printed on the paper and groaned. ‘I don’t believe it.’

  ‘What is it?’ Umpire demanded.

  ‘I was curious to know who gave Kathryn her alibi for the time Rosie went missing.’ She thrust the paper at him. ‘According to this, it was Sinclair. This says he left the Umbra office in Haxton on Tuesday morning around the same time Kathryn said she left Rosie to go to the stables and he saw her on his way.’

  ‘Shit,’ said Umpire. ‘If he wasn’t near Burr Way, he can’t be the one who took her.’ He pored over the document. ‘Ah, it says that he saw Kathryn on the approach to Burr Way, not long after ten, so the timing still fits.’

  ‘But we already know he’s not the person who was behind Lesley in the lottery queue,’ Maggie pointed out.

  ‘That doesn’t mean he’s not involved. Or he might have seen something but not reported it because he didn’t want us to find out about his photography hobby. Right, I’ll speak to you when you’re back at the hospital.’

  ‘Oh, just one more thing before you go,’ said Maggie hastily, suddenly remembering her conversation with Lesley in the high street. ‘Lesley told me Suzy Breed has been blackmailing Mack for money and that’s why they’ve been texting.’

  Umpire looked across the office. ‘Renshaw!’ he bellowed. She trotted confidently towards them, unruffled by the loud summons.

  ‘Have we got Suzy Breed’s phone records yet?’ In an aside to Maggie, he added, ‘Bloody phone company was meant to get them to us yesterday but didn’t.’

  ‘Yes, and they prove Mack did go to the house where she was staying when he was in Scotland because there are messages between them arranging when,’ said Renshaw. ‘Police up there have been round again but she seems to have vanished.’

  ‘Is there anything in the messages to suggest she was extorting money from him?’

  Renshaw smirked. ‘That’s his cover story? How unoriginal. No, there isn’t, sir. The messages are affectionate, not aggressive. Reading between the lines, it does sound like there’s something going on.’

  Maggie felt sick. ‘Lesley will be so upset when she finds out he’s lied.’

  ‘So don’t tell her,’ said Umpire. ‘Wait until Mack’s in a position to talk, tell him we know and let’s see how he’s prepared to deal with it. If he decides to stick to his story, that’s his business.’

  ‘What, so we just let Lesley carry on thinking he’s telling the truth?’ said Maggie, aghast.

  ‘It has nothing to do with our investigation,’ said Umpire. ‘It’s their marriage, let them sort it out.’

  53

  By the time he’d finished, his entire back throbbed with pain. Mrs Roberts hadn’t been as easy to manoeuvre as he imagined she might be after death. It had taken him almost an hour to wrap her body up in the square of blue tarpaulin he’d found next to the pool house and lug her all the way to the rear of the garden where he deposited her onto the compost heap. It wasn’t the ideal place to leave a body – it wasn’t exactly concealed – but it would do until he could find a better solution for its disposal.

  Returning to the pool, he lay down at its edge and scooped up a handful of water to splash on his face as heavy raindrops beat a tattoo on the crystal blue surface.

  Then he started to cry.

  This was not how he’d planned any of this. When he’d found out his client Charlie knew someone who not only lived in the same road as Mack and Lesley Kinnock but happened to be looking for someone like him to treat an injury, he was full of hope, seeing it as the perfect opportunity to get to know the Kinnock family and perhaps show them he wasn�
�t just another chancer begging for a handout. He had been confident that once he’d explained who he was and the role he’d played in their winning the EuroMillions jackpot, they’d gladly help him out.

  He shouldn’t have been so impatient. He should’ve waited until he could engineer a proper introduction, instead of getting sucked into a situation from which he had no idea how to extricate himself. He should’ve listened to reason, but it was drowned out by all the deafening white noise in his head.

  ‘You’ve just fucking strangled an old woman,’ he berated himself as he cried. ‘You’ve just killed someone.’

  He wasn’t a bad man, but he’d just done a very bad thing and he had no idea how to undo it. The ridge on his forehead throbbed as he cried tears of self-pity.

  ‘What are you doing here? You’re not meant to be here now. If anyone sees you hanging around they’ll call the police.’

  The voice startled him. He sat up and wiped the tears and chlorinated water from his face, bristling with anger as he saw the figure coming towards him. This was their fault, not his. They were the ones who’d fucked everything up with those stupid photographs. He stood up and reached in his back pocket for the Stanley knife he’d found in Mrs Roberts’s shed and used to cut up the tarpaulin. Slowly he slid the catch back so the blade was exposed. For days now he had put up with their stupidity making matters worse. Not any more. Now he was running the show on his own.

  ‘I thought you were going to the hospital?’ he said.

  A shrug followed, but no explanation. They asked again what he was doing.

  ‘I came out for some air after the treatment session and I thought I saw some movement inside the pool house,’ he lied.

  ‘Really? Oh God. That’s all we need.’

  But before the figure could reach the glass door at the front of the pool house, he sprang forward and pressed the blade to their neck.

  ‘Don’t move or I’ll cut you . . . just like you cut Rosie.’

  54

  Lesley raised her head and yawned. She’d dozed off with her cheek resting against the blanket covering Mack’s bed and as she rubbed her skin she could feel the creases it had left. Mack was sleeping too, his face whiter than the cotton pillow his head rested against. But his breathing was regular now and the oxygen mask he’d needed in the ambulance had been removed.

  Lesley watched the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he slept. A tube inserted into the back of his hand silently pumped fluids into his weakened body from an IV drip positioned next to the bed. Mack wasn’t just exhausted, his doctors said; he was severely dehydrated too. Had he drunk much water in the last few days, they’d asked? She didn’t know, was her honest answer. Drinking water, remembering to eat, trying to sleep – those things had all been irrelevant to her since Tuesday and to Mack too, or he wouldn’t have ended up in a side room off a packed ward at their local hospital.

  Rosie would be so upset to see her dad like this, she thought as she gently traced her fingertips over the back of his hand. When this was all over, she vowed, when Rosie was home and Mack was better, they’d go away, just the three of them. Instead of resenting the money, she’d bloody well make herself enjoy it. They’d go to Australia and go diving on the Great Barrier Reef. Or maybe to the Far East: Mack had always said he wanted to go to Tokyo to see if it was as crazy as it looked on TV and in films. As she rhythmically stroked his hand, Lesley added more destinations to their itinerary: a stop-off in Los Angeles to see the Hollywood sign; sightseeing in New York; a cruise around the Caribbean. Then back to Europe, to Rome, a city she’d always wanted to visit; Milan, to take Rosie shopping; followed by Moscow, because someone from Mack’s old office went once and said it was a beautiful city. Last would be a long holiday somewhere hot, like the Maldives, where they’d lie in hammocks, sip cocktails and pretend none of this had happened.

  She grew more excited as she ticked the destinations off one by one, until the sound of people talking outside the door dragged her back into the present. She rested her head back on Mack’s bed in despair. She wanted to rewind to the weekend when her only worry had been whether to have chicken or fish for dinner. Her grief at Rosie going missing manifested as a physical ache, like her body was being stamped on repeatedly. Tomorrow was Saturday and Rosie would have been gone for four days. It felt like a lifetime already.

  There was a gentle knock on the door and it opened to reveal Belmar.

  ‘Have you got a minute?’ he said.

  Lesley leapt to her feet and flew around the end of the bed to the door.

  ‘What is it? You’ve got that look on your face. It’s bad news, isn’t it?’

  Glancing at Mack asleep on the bed, Belmar shut the door quietly behind him.

  ‘Maggie just called. We’re making an arrest in connection with Rosie’s disappearance.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Edward Sinclair, one of the security guards who works for Umbra.’

  Lesley gasped. ‘Really? Does . . . does that mean you know where Rosie is?’

  ‘Not yet, but hopefully we’ll have some news when he’s questioned.’

  ‘But he must’ve said something! Haven’t you asked him?’

  Belmar spoke stiffly, as though he’d been coached in what to say.

  ‘As soon as there’s a development you’ll be the first to know. I’m going to wait outside for an update from the station as I can’t use my phone in here. Will you be okay on your own for a bit longer, until Maggie’s back?’

  ‘I don’t have a bloody choice, do I?’ she snapped, then immediately regretted it. ‘I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t take it out on you. It’s just that I thought you’d find my daughter before you caught who did it.’

  ‘We need to question him to determine his involvement.’

  Belmar’s police handbook babble was starting to annoy her.

  ‘Fine, just go,’ she sighed. ‘I’ll wait here.’

  He gave a half-smile then ducked out of the room. Lesley turned to her husband’s inert form on the bed.

  ‘Did you hear that, Mack? They’ve arrested someone. That’s got to be good news, hasn’t it?’

  As she waited for Belmar to return, she couldn’t keep still. Flitting between the chair, window and door, she tried to remember which of the guards Edward Sinclair was. She couldn’t remember talking to him or seeing him at the house, but then Mack dealt with all the security issues.

  She checked the time again, but the hands on her watch had barely moved since the last time she’d looked.

  ‘I’ll go crazy if I wait in here,’ she told her sleeping husband. ‘I’m going to get some fresh air.’ She leaned over him. The nurses had removed his glasses and there was a small red indent either side of his nose where the frames pressed into his flesh. She gently kissed each mark, then the tip of his nose, and then his lips. He didn’t stir.

  It was only when she was outside the front entrance that she remembered Kathryn was being treated at the hospital too. She debated what to do for a moment then went back inside. Even though Maggie said she wasn’t to talk to Kathryn or the rest of her family, her injuries had sounded bad and, despite the bullying allegation, she still wanted to see how she was.

  She made a beeline for the information desk.

  ‘I need to find out about a patient who’s being treated here,’ Lesley told the smartly dressed, middle-aged man sitting behind the desk. He smiled but told her in a rich, mellifluous West Indian accent that he couldn’t give out confidential patient information unless she was a relative.

  ‘I’m a friend of the family,’ she implored. ‘I just want to know that she’s okay. She came in last night.’

  He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I wish I could tell you, but they’d have my hide.’

  ‘Can’t you make an exception? She’s my daughter’s best friend and, well, my daughter . . .’ she faltered. ‘The thing is, my daughter’s gone missing. My husband is in the hospital too, because he collapsed. He’s on ward 3A. You can check i
f you want. His name is Mack . . . Mack Kinnock.’

  She hadn’t meant to divulge so much but the man’s face emanated kindness in such a way that she couldn’t help herself.

  He leaned over the desk and dropped his voice.

  ‘Are you the lady with the young girl that’s gone astray in Haxton?’

  She flinched. ‘Yes, I’m her mother.’

  ‘Oh, ma’am, I am so sorry,’ he said. ‘I hope you get her home soon.’

  ‘So do I,’ she said, trying not to cry.

  He tilted his head to one side. ‘What did you say her friend’s name was?’

  ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘Tell me what it is.’ He winked and nodded down at the desk, where his other hand already hovered over his keyboard.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, overwhelmed with gratitude. ‘It’s Kathryn Stockton. Kathryn with a K and a Y.’

  His fingers flew over the keys. ‘She’s on the second floor. Ward 2F. Don’t tell them I sent you.’

  ‘I won’t, I promise. You’ve been so kind.’

  ‘If my little girl was missing, I hope someone would do the same for me. You take care now, ma’am.’

  As she said goodbye and turned away from the desk, Lesley frowned. A vaguely familiar-looking woman with cropped dark hair was walking towards her, her face taut with apprehension. She suddenly realized who it was. The last person she expected to see.

  ‘What the hell are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough?’ she burst out.

  Suzy Breed gathered herself and took a deep breath.

  ‘I know this is the worst time to do this, but you need to know the truth about me and Mack. Right now.’