by Anne Bone
Once the briefing was completed and the night shift made their way onto the streets to start their work, he made his way to the CID offices. He wasn’t surprised to see Jane Lewis appear, she was a good boss, and one who would be on his back until the child was found.
‘What’s your feeling, Dave?’ she asked, while pulling out a chair and sweeping crumbs from the remnants of someone’s sandwich onto the floor.
‘Worried, that’s what I feel, Boss. This is a little girl who appears to have just vanished, which as we all know, cannot have happened. There are no rivers or hazards that we have identified as places where she could have fallen into.’ He lifted his mug and took a long swallow of what was now tepid coffee. ‘I think we need to find out more about the child’s father. Bruce Tough was the first officer to speak to the mother, and he had a feeling that there was more to the father not being involved with the child than met the eye. This has been backed up by Diane Crombie who spent the last few hours with the mother. I have requested that she is seconded to CID so that she can continue to be the liaison with the mother.’
‘Good idea, she’s a good officer, sensible and astute. You think that there could be something that the mother is hiding then?’
‘She’s in a state of shock as would be expected. We got her mother up from Blairgowrie and she’s stopping with her at the moment. I sent Diane home to get some kip and once she is back in the morning we will start to piece together this kid’s background and see what comes up.’
‘The press are starting to take an interest, so we will have to cobble something to give them by the morning. It might be helpful, at least then we can see whether anyone from the public caught any sight.’ Jane rubbed her eyes, it had been a long day, and had ended very differently than she had planned. She should be at home by now, relaxing on her sofa while her husband poured her a glass of wine. Instead, she had had to phone him again to let him know that she was going to be late, yet again, and listened while she heard that tone of irritation creep into his reply that he would see her, whenever. She had tried hard recently, especially since she had received her promotion, to get home so that they could spend more time together. This, however, hadn’t been very successful, and she knew that her job was taking a toll on their eight-month marriage. She turned her attention back to Dave and readjusted her focus to hear what he was saying.
‘So, are you going to do the press conference?’ he was asking.
She nodded. ‘But I want you to be there too, take a lead in this, Dave. What about the local paedos, have they had their collar felt?’
This time he nodded. ‘We’re working on that as we speak. Tommy and Chris have tracked down a couple of well-known guys, but no clues and both have got reasonable alibis. Thankfully, some are well banged up in Peterhead, but as you know boss, there will be more out there who we don’t know about.’
‘I am going to head off home now. What time are you going to knock off, Dave?’
‘I’ll get my head down here for a wee bit, but even if I went home Boss, I wouldn’t sleep. I am too wound up’. Dave Rogers ran his fingers through his thick curly brown hair; he was visibly tired, but both knew he would be utterly exhausted before the end of this enquiry was finished.
‘Okay, well listen, if there is any news phone me, no matter what the time is.’ She stood and turned to make her way out of the office. Turning to look at her colleague again, she re-emphasised again, ‘Call, whatever the time. God, let’s hope we get a lead by the morning. Night, Dave.’
He sat down again and took another sip of his now cold coffee. He certainly hoped he would get a lead and even more hopefully that they would find the wee lass soon.
Chapter 4
Tuesday 11th September 1984
Jenni hadn’t slept a wink. She had been persuaded to go and lie down on her bed just after midnight. She hadn’t wanted to, but she had to admit she was overcome with exhaustion. She had tried to close her eyes and sleep, but every time she had done so, she had been overwhelmed with thoughts of where her little girl was. The pictures in her head were such that she found it easier to dismiss them if she had her eyes open. Her mum had lain beside her, and had fallen into a restless sleep. Jenni had tried to rest, but after a couple of hours had got up and gone into Mary’s bedroom and gathered up her duvet with the pink Barbie cover and buried her head into the fabric. She could smell Mary, her lovely wee daughter, and with this brought a fresh rush of grief.
Jenni had spent the rest of the night on the sofa in the dark with the curtains pulled back. She had kept warm using Mary’s duvet. Holding it tight around her kept her feeling close to Mary, her thoughts a rollercoaster between terror and hope that any minute the phone would ring and the police would be telling her that they had found her. She had been aware of every car that had driven down the street, noticing that several were police cars. She had also, at first light, seen a number of police officers scouring the bushes opposite the flats again. They had done this last evening, but were repeating the action. Jenni didn’t know whether this was good or bad, but at least they were still looking.
As she watched the night turn to day, Jenni heard her mother stir. When her mother had arrived from Blairgowrie the previous evening, she had fallen into her arms and sobbed. Even though she hadn’t been close to her mother, her presence in the flat somehow was reassuring. It was she realised the first time her mother had set foot in the flat, and how she wished that she had done so when Mary had been here.
Christine Dinnet appeared in the doorway, looking dishevelled and still half asleep. ‘Did you get any sleep at all, pet?’ she asked, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.
Jenni shook her head, ‘I did try, but couldn’t get off, and I was tossing about so much that I thought I would be better here on the sofa.’
‘I’ll go and stick the kettle on and do a brew. Tea or coffee?’
‘I think I could do with a strong cup of coffee, Mum, please.’
A few minutes later, Christine arrived back in the sitting room, carrying a tray with two steaming cups and a plate of toast. ‘Now, lass, try and eat a wee bitty of toast with your coffee. We need to keep our strength up.’ She sat down on the sofa beside her daughter, passing a mug to her, while then buttering a piece of toast and offering it to her, a watery smile plastered on her face.
Jenni looked at the clock on the mantelpiece, ‘It’s nearly seven, that police woman said she would be here about now. I expect she could do with a coffee when she arrives too, Mum.’ She took a bite of the toast but it tasted like a piece of cardboard. As she chewed she swallowed a mouthful of coffee, to wash it down her throat. She wondered how long it would remain in her stomach before it returned. ‘Thanks, Mum, and Mum… I am grateful that you are here.’
Christine nodded, ‘I got such a shock when your dad opened the door to see the two Bobbies. We thought there had been an accident; never in a million years could we have imagined what they were going to tell us. Your dad, he was upset you know. I know he doesn’t show it. Whatever has been in the past, he would never want anything bad to happen to you or Mary. You do know that, don’t you lass?’
‘I do, Mum. Yes, but it is a sad fact that it is only when something bad happens that we know who cares.’
The older woman, who seemed to have aged overnight, agreed. She took a deep breath and gathered her thoughts before she spoke the next words. ‘What about Mary’s father? I know we had said we never wanted to hear his name, but is he still involved?’
‘His name, Mum, as you well know, is Marcus; and yes, I still see him, but Mary doesn’t know he is her father. It was part of the agreement. So please don’t start to give me a hard time about him now. Please.’ She looked directly at her mother, waiting for a response; she didn’t have the energy to fight with her.
‘I am not going to say anything about anything. Have you told him about Mary disappearing?’
Jenni shook her head. ‘He is away overseas at the moment, he is due back a
t the end of the week. So I can’t speak to him until then.’ She found herself thinking that this was par for the course, in terms of Marcus, even when she needed him more than ever, he wasn’t available. To distract herself she announced to her mum that she was going to have a shower to try and waken herself up, leaving her mother to ponder on how much she wished her daughter had fallen in love with a man who was free, and would have cared enough to be a father to Mary.
By the time Jenni reappeared feeling a little refreshed, Diane Crombie had arrived. She was drinking a mug of coffee, and looking serious. Jenni knew from her face that there was no news. Diane updated her on the search and also how her bosses were going to brief the press today. She tried by her tone to convey that this was good news as by doing so the public would be aware, and many people who knew about Mary would assist with finding her.
The morning just dragged on. The television was turned on, and while the three women stared at it, none were taking any real notice of the daytime trivia. Christine kept herself busy with making teas and coffees, another round of toast was provided. She then announced she was going to the shop to get something to cook for lunch. Jenni protested that she wasn’t hungry, but was dismissed by her mother who told her she had to eat.
Diane felt that while Christine was indeed thinking of what she could make for lunch, she was also using the visit to the shops as an excuse to leave the building. The atmosphere was so heavy it could be sliced by a knife. It was horrible. As she watched the older woman out of the window make her way along the pavement towards the shops, she saw the car draw up. DI Rogers was driving and out of the passenger side got Chief Inspector Jane Lewis. Diane felt herself smoothing down her skirt and running her hands through her hair to prepare herself for the meeting of a senior officer, one who, in normal circumstances, would probably have just passed her in the corridor without even a second glance.
She advised Jenni of the visit, and went to the door to let the two officers into the flat. Jane Lewis introduced herself to Jenni and sat down beside her on the sofa. Dave Rogers sat in the armchair opposite, while Diane left the room for the direction of the kitchen to make more coffee.
Jane couldn’t help but let her heart go out to this woman. She looked dreadful. Her eyes were red and swollen and empty. Her skin was pale and transparent, her high cheekbones protruded, she was pretty sure that this wasn’t how this young woman normally looked. Her thick hair showed signs of being washed and brushed, but it looked lank as though the woman’s whole persona had been affected by the trauma that she was experiencing. Before she started to speak she caught hold of Jenni’s hand. ‘I am afraid, Jenni, we don’t have any news. We have conducted searches of the area, including Mary’s school. We haven’t found anything. We spoke with the press and media this morning and we will get good coverage. I am sure this will help. We are also going to post a constable at the door of the flat as you may well get members of the press wishing to speak to you. We tried to keep details of your address out of the briefing, but they will come knocking I have no doubt.’
Jenni found tears rolling down her face. She blew her nose. ‘Something bad must have happened to her; she would never, not ever, not just come home. I can feel it deep in my bones, something or someone has her.’
‘We will keep looking, but there are just a few questions we need to ask you,’ interjected Dave Rogers. He leant towards the sobbing woman. He felt compassion, but at this time his mind, although tired, was alert to processing every bit of information to try and build a profile of where this child may be. ‘Miss Dinnet… Jenni, can you tell us about Mary’s father?’
This was a question that Jenni had been expecting and whatever the agreement with Marcus, she knew she would have to tell the police about him. ‘His name is Marcus Davidson.’ She noticed the look that took place between the two officers, one of recognition.
‘Marcus Davidson, the owner of Davidson Holdings?’ queried Dave. Jenni nodded. ‘What is your current relationship with Mr Davidson?’
Jenn, swallowed before answering. ‘We are still seeing each other, but as far as Mary is concerned she just thinks he is my friend.’ She watched Dave for any sign of judgement before she continued. ‘Marcus supports us financially, but is married and can’t leave his wife, so we see each other a couple of times a week, if we can. He is out of the country at the moment, on business.’
While Jane did not want to judge, she knew of Marcus Davidson, and while he had never been convicted of anything, he was known to often be on the fringes of some dodgy goings on in Aberdeen. The owner of a couple of bars, one of the biggest clubs in Aberdeen was just part of his business empire. She had, over the years, investigated his dealings on more than one occasion. He was also, if her memory served her right, much older that Jenni, and she couldn’t help wondering just exactly why this young woman had to keep their relationship so secret.
‘How and when did you meet Marcus?’ she asked.
‘When I first came up to Aberdeen, to study at the Gray’s Art College, I got a part-time job in Boogies.’ She named the club owned by Marcus. ‘I was just waitressing, but we got speaking when he came into the club and we got together.’ She didn’t tell them how she had been pursued by Marcus; how the other girls had told her that he was married with a couple of teenage sons. She had tried to avoid him, but he didn’t give up. When she agreed to go out for dinner with him, he had treated her so well. He was attentive and generous, as well as being funny, and she had realised how attractive he was. His six foot with broad shoulders and this, together with his dark hair with the fringe that fell over one side of his face, gave him a look of mystery. While he might be older, in fact twenty-four years her senior, she found herself falling for him. He knew exactly the right words to whisper in her ear and he had ended the first dinner date with a peck on the cheek. This, to her mind, just showed the other girls that he did respect her, that they were wrong about him, and he wasn’t just trying to get her into bed.
She had found her eyes searching for him every time she went to work, feeling that flutter of excitement in the bottom of her stomach. When he did come into the club, he made a point of telling her how pretty she was and she was more than happy to meet him again. It was after the third time they had been out to dinner, when he had suggested that they go back to one of his flats for coffee. She hadn’t known he had owned flats as well as the club. She had agreed, knowing that coffee may lead to more, and she wanted more. So, in a flat in a street just off of Union Street, she had been putty in his hands as he removed her clothing with skill and experience. He carried her to the king size bed in a bedroom furnished to the highest degree with deep warm colours. He then very carefully took her virginity, replacing the immediate pain with a rush of heightened excitement that left her body shuddering from a wonderful feeling of climax. She equally had enjoyed the sense of being loved and held and when he had told her that he wanted her to stay for the night, she had happily agreed.
Waking beside him in the morning, she was delighted when he once again reached for her and, in the light of day began to teach her how to both please him, and to allow him to touch the intimate and sensitive parts of her body until she felt she was flying on the crest of a very large wave. After that night she would spend one night a week with him in the flat. He explained right from the start that he was married to Veronica, and for reasons she didn’t quite understand he would and could never divorce her. He also insisted on the utmost discretion, to which she agreed. They kept their affair as quiet as possible, Jenni making sure that she didn’t pay him attention when she was working. The other girls thought that the initial interest he had shown in her had ceased.
As the affair progressed, Marcus confessed his love for Jenni. She became more than one of his usual quick flings. She couldn’t get enough of him and loved the nights she was able to spend with him. They stopped going out for dinner and spent the evening in the flat, one of his business acquisitions that he kept for himself. Veronica didn�
�t ask questions as to where he spent one night a week away from their home in the west end of Aberdeen. She didn’t want to know, thought it better that she didn’t know, in fact. Never one hundred percent sure of his fidelity, she was sure that he would not leave her, he couldn’t, she knew that as she had insurance. Insurance, without a policy, but nevertheless there was absolute assurance that her marriage would remain intact no matter what.
Jane Lewis watched the young woman toy with what information she would share with them. She knew she was holding back, and could sense that the information being withheld was of an intimate nature and not necessary for them to know.
Jenni continued, bringing her senses back to the room. She realised that she had been silent for a while, as she recalled the passion that had ignited the relationship with Marcus. ‘So when I found I was pregnant, Marcus bought this flat, and furnished it for me. We agreed that I wouldn’t tell Mary that he was her dad. He does love her though, she just doesn’t realise how much. He is good to her, and to me, but we just need to keep things a secret.’ She stopped speaking and took a deep intake of breath. ‘I suppose that you will need to speak to him, will you?’
Dave cleared his throat before he replied that, yes, they would need to speak to Mr Davidson, but they would be sensitive with the information that she had shared with them. ‘You say he is away on business. Where about, can I ask?’
