SNATCHED BAIRN: Scottish Fiction

by Anne Bone

  ‘There are very few people; I don’t discuss my private life. The only person I have discussed Jenni with is my accountant, Jeff Brown. He had to know: as you are aware, I do maintain Jenni and Mary financially. Jeff is a close friend as well as my accountant and I can vouch that he would never reveal my personal information to anyone without my agreement.’ He stopped for a moment, making the decision about whether to reveal that he had recently shared this with his club manager. He decided not to. Terry had only just been informed and he would rather keep him and the club out of it.

  ‘Just one man, out of everyone else in the world, you have never shared this with anyone?’ Dave couldn’t help the tone of incredulity creeping into his voice.

  ‘Yes, believe it or not, Detective Inspector, some people do not shout all their business to the world.’ Marcus was aware that the irritation he felt was beginning to morph into anger. Who the hell did this patronising pillock think he was?

  Jane interrupted, realising that Dave goading him would not be helpful on any level. ‘Do you think that anyone could have found out about your relationship with Jenni and, let’s say, thinking of perhaps using it for ill gains?’

  ‘If you are suggesting Mary has been taken for reasons of blackmail, Chief Inspector, then the answer is no. If there was any chance that that was the case, then I can assure you I would not place my child’s life in danger for the sake of a few pounds. I would pay up.’ He sat back in his chair, and for the first time since he entered the room he looked his age, the wrinkles around his eyes did not look like laughter lines, they looked like worry. ‘If only she had been taken for blackmail, I think, Chief Inspector, in some absurd way that would at least be something to go on, wouldn’t it?’

  Jane realised that Marcus Davidson was not going to assist them by providing any further information. She felt weary and drew the interview to an end by thanking him and reassuring him that they would keep him informed. They agreed that they would not contact him at his home number but would either call him at his office during the day time or through the club at night.

  Jane returned to her office when she had seen Marcus out. She was, frankly, pissed off; they were not getting anywhere at all. Dave knocked and entered carrying two mugs of steaming coffee. He handed one to Jane and sat in the chair opposite the almost too tidy desk. Very different from his, which was covered with files, bits of paper, dirty coffee cups, and goodness knows what else lay underneath the piles of paper that he never threw away. He always insisted that he knew exactly what was on his desk and had his own unique filing system. Jane was different: she prided herself on keeping her desk clear and dealt with any messages immediately, therefore, there was no need to keep bits of paper unnecessarily.

  ‘So, Boss, what did you make of the bold hero, Marcus Davidson? I didn’t like him one bit. He came across as an egotistic, conceited bastard, if you want my opinion.’

  ‘Thank you for your opinion, which I largely agree with, however, it would appear he can’t bring anything new to the enquiry. In terms of motive, he wouldn’t appear to have one.’

  ‘What about the wife, though, do you think she could have found out he was playing away? She’s got plenty of cash and wouldn’t need to do it herself. Is it worth a look?’

  Before Jane could answer there was another knock on her door and she beckoned the officer to come in. ‘Sorry, Mam, I thought you would want to hear this. We’ve just spoken to Central and they have traced the man and child. He came into the office this morning and confirmed it had been him on the train, and the child was his granddaughter. It’s all been confirmed.’

  ‘Why didn’t he come in before?’ shouted Dave, ‘where the fuck has he been hiding for the past four days?’

  ‘Apparently he’s been ill and hadn’t realised it was him they were trying to trace.’ The officer left the office and returned heavy hearted back to the incident room, followed by Dave.

  Jane cursed under her breath. In many ways she had hoped that the sighting wouldn’t return any results, as if this man had taken Mary it wouldn’t be for positive reasons, yet this ended their one and only lead. Maybe it would be worth checking out Marcus’s wife just in case she had found out and decided to punish him.

  Chapter 13

  Saturday 15th September Aberdeen

  Terry Lawson had made a few calls, but so far none had elicited any information that was worth doing anything about. He admitted to himself that he wasn’t really that surprised, as given most of the people he associated with, either now or in the past, they were unlikely to be involved in taking a kid.

  He had been taken aback on the previous evening when Marcus had revealed that the missing kid was his. There had been rumours that Marcus kept a woman, but nobody knew who, and certainly no one had suggested that there was a kid. Fancy that, plus it must be pretty serious if he was willing to break his silence and tell him. While he respected and liked Marcus, he didn’t entirely trust him. He was an okay boss, but one you wouldn’t set out to cross, and until last night he wasn’t party to anything about Marcus’s personal life. He had always thought of Marcus as a cold creature. He had never seen him relax and let his hair down, unlike the other owners of clubs he had previously worked in. Indeed, now thinking back to the times when Marcus had entertained his business associates, he had remained sober and contained. He had never seen him drunk, or out of control, he exuded a certain level of menace, sending a silent message, that he would just deal with anyone who crossed him. Marcus did have fingers in many pies, some of which Terry was aware of. Like a certain arrangement that not all the booze that was sold at the club was secured from legitimate suppliers, or that the back room was used for the odd poker game, or that a couple of local hookers were never chased off the premises. All of these in Terry’s eyes were acceptable risks, and ones that brought the occasional flurry of concern if the Bobbies became interested, but none of the risks were not worth taking in his view. He had no idea what other business interests Marcus may have where there were other, maybe higher, risks; that was one of his trademarks, he kept things very close to his chest. Hence the missing kid that no one knew was anything to do with Marcus.

  After leaving the police headquarters, Marcus had sat in his car for a while, just taking a moment to reflect on the conversation he had just had. He was feeling a mixture of fury and despair. How dare they insinuate that his relationship with Jenni was some sort of grubby tacky affair, when it most definitely was not! He was not going to be judged by them when they had no comprehension of how much Jenni meant to him. For him came the sense of despair that they didn’t know where Mary was, and he didn’t like it when he wasn’t in control. Someone, somewhere, was in control and holding this knowledge, and when he found out who, they were going to feel his fury.

  Marcus started the engine and waited while the car purred into action. He began driving towards his home, but then changed his mind and turned the car in the direction of Jenni’s. He parked at the back of the flats and made his way through the back door, climbing the stairs to the first floor flat and using his key to gain entry.

  Christine met him in the hallway. She couldn’t help tut-tutting to herself that he had the run of the place, just using his key and letting himself in as if he owned the flat. Then she realised he did and, it would seem to her, that he also owned her daughter. She nodded to him, reluctant to acknowledge the man she couldn’t help thinking ruined her daughter’s life.

  ‘Good morning, Christine,’ he said in an officious manner, ‘how is she this morning?’

  ‘The same, what would you expect? I heard her wandering around in the night, she can’t rest, but then none of us can. I am just making a pot of tea, Jenni’s in there,’ she beckoned towards the sitting room and then carried on with warming the tea pot, thinking that it pained her to have to add another mug to the tray.

  When Marcus entered the room he found the young woman sitting in the armchair staring out towards the window. She didn’t look up when he enter
ed, and seemed to be in a dream world of her own. He went towards her, his heart feeling the wrench when he looked at her. She seemed to have diminished further even from the previous day. He stood in front of her, and still she didn’t seem to notice. It was only after he knelt down and took her hand into his where he started to stroke it that he got her attention. She looked at him with blank dead eyes, it was as if her emotions had frozen and the block of ice that had circulated her heart was now penetrating throughout the rest of her body.

  ‘Hello, my darling girl,’ he reached over to smooth her cheek with his hand. The comfort of his warm fingers seemed to have the effect of bringing some life back into her. She looked at him and her face crumpled, tears squeezed from her eyes to run down both cheeks, to drip on his hand. He pulled her to him, crushing her petite body in his hulk and smoothing her head while he tried to sooth her, just as he would do if she was a child rather than his lover.

  ‘Oh my darling girl, please, I just wish they could find her. Come on now you have to stay strong.’ He held her hand tightly trying to transfer some of his own energy into her.

  ‘Marcus it’s been six days now, where is she?’ she sobbed, ‘I get these pictures in my head, she is somewhere calling for me, wondering why I am not there, oh God, Marcus, what if she is lying somewhere hurt and alone?’ She crumpled into his embrace, ‘I can’t bare it, I just can’t bare it.’

  Christine arrived carrying a tray of tea and informing them that Dave Rogers had phoned to say he would be calling round to update them. Marcus couldn’t help thinking that he could do without seeing the obnoxious detective for a second time today, but didn’t voice his thoughts as Jenni stopped crying and wiped her face. Clearly, she was desperate for any news.

  They drank their tea without conversing but each lost in their own thoughts of wondering what updates the police had. For Jenni, any crumb of information brought a wave of hope, and if it was negative then it brought a new wave of anguish, leaving her overwhelmed with a sense of despondency.

  It wasn’t long before the doorbell rang and Christine went to answer it, returning a short time later accompanied by Dave Rogers. His look told a lot. Plainly there was no sense that he was bringing any good news. He acknowledged both Jenni and Marcus, before settling on the edge of a chair and taking a deep breath before he began to outline that the sighting in Stirling had proved negative to the enquiry.

  On hearing the words Jenni broke down again, leaning into Marcus while he comforted her. ‘I can’t bare it,’ she sobbed, ‘where is she?’

  ‘We are still looking, Jenni, we won’t give up until we find her. I am sorry. We are hoping that the reconstruction will bring something new.’ Dave tried hard to inject some optimism into his voice, but realised that the news he had just imparted was not helpful to the girl’s mother.

  Marcus’s look towards the young detective was one of steel. ‘It had better bring something new detective, or else it would seem that Grampian Police are beginning to look like incompetent idiots, and we need answers as to why nothing at all has been found,’ he spat the words, leaving Dave to feel the man’s anger.

  Dave didn’t stay longer than was absolutely necessary after confirming that Diane Crombie was not needed over the weekend. Marcus made it clear that unless there was any new information Grampian Police were better to remain absent, and now he was here he would take charge of ensuring that Jenni was supported. After Dave took his leave, Christine and Marcus agreed that rather than waiting until the following day to return to Blairgowrie she would do so today.

  He informed both Jenni and her mother that he would go for some changes of clothes and then return, when he would arrange for a taxi to take Christine home. Christine balked at the thought of the cost of a taxi, however, was quickly informed that she was not to worry about cost. She wasn’t sure whether this was Marcus’s way of getting rid of her quicker than it would be to wait for her to arrange her own way home.

  Now Marcus had come to a decision that he was going to stay with Jenni over the next few days he was galvanised into action. He advised that he would return within the hour once he had retrieved what he needed for the next few days. He even enquired as to what food was in the house and whether he needed to pick up some supplies. Christine confirmed that there was indeed an abundance of food in the house, and she had used her time to cook up dishes that were stored in the freezer, so he didn’t need to worry about that.

  When Marcus arrived home and slid his key into the front door, he did it with a sense of steely determination. He didn’t know what awaited him, or what questions he would be asked, but whatever greeted him he would deal with without concern. Veronica was in the lounge reading the newspaper; she didn’t look up when her husband appeared in the doorway. She was still furious with him, and decided that she would ignore him.

  ‘I am just collecting some clothes as I am going to be away an extra day, probably be back on Wednesday,’ he made the announcement in a way in which there was no reply or agreement expected.

  ‘Really, well good for you,’ came the caustic reply. She still didn’t look up and Marcus took this as a sign to leave her be and climbed the stairs to their bedroom, where he collected together a range of clothes and placed them in a bag. He then quickly gathered his shaving equipment, toothbrush, deodorant and aftershave and returned downstairs.

  As he grabbed his coat from the coat rack, he heard a voice ask, ‘And where will we get you if there is an emergency, pray can I ask?’

  ‘If you phone the club or the office, as you know perfectly well, they will get hold of me,’ he replied, feeling a little annoyed that she was even asking the question. He had been away numerous times in the past and she knew the drill. He carried on putting his arms into his coat sleeves and searching his pocket for his car keys.

  ‘Oh, I just wondered whether you would be contactable, after all, I am only your wife, and it is always good to be able to give an answer if anyone asks where you are.’ It was clear from the tone that Veronica was still extremely angry. Marcus ignored this, and shouted goodbye before closing the door behind him, throwing his bag into the boot and getting into his car.

  Veronica continued to fume; she wasn’t sure why she felt quite so angry. She should be used to Marcus’s indifferent attitude towards her at times. She was left to consider this when she had a lightbulb moment. She realised that there had been a shift in his attitude over the past few days. She had been used to him disappearing for the odd night, giving her very little explanation as to where and what he was up to, but this had not happened for a long time. Something had happened, but she wasn’t sure what. Whatever it was, he wasn’t sharing it with her, which irritated her more than she thought possible.

  Well, if he was not going to be around for the next few days, she would make him pay for it via his cheque book. She picked up the phone and dialled her close friend Marge and when she got through to her, she was relieved that Marge was more than happy to meet her at E&Ms, their favourite department store, and then go out for afternoon tea. She would feel better once she had spent some money, and she may even pick up a few holiday brochures to plan a holiday. That would make the next few days easier to manage. Blast the man.

  Chapter 14

  Monday 17th September

  Jenni couldn’t quite grasp the fact that it was a week since she waved goodbye to Mary as she made her way to school. She awoke, in her own bed with Marcus beside her, and felt his warmth and was comforted by his presence. Who would have believed that after nine years she was able to wake up beside him? If only Mary were here too, and she could imagine her daughter opening the bedroom door and leaping onto the bed… if only.

  As she lay thinking about the day, her thoughts were clinging to the hope that today’s reconstruction would bring some positive results. Marcus turned and opened his eyes; he reached over for Jenni, circling her into his arms. He wished he could do something more to comfort her. Last night they had made gentle love, each giving way to seeking
relief by the action, and taking comfort from being attached to each other’s bodies, in some way bringing not only them, but their daughter closer.

  Having Marcus in the flat was helping more than she could have imagined: she had become used to only having a very small part of him since Mary was born. She couldn’t remember the last time they had actually woken up together. She also had someone to care for, so she felt able to get out of bed and make her way to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Over the past week she hadn’t been able to undertake even the smallest of tasks. To be fair, she hadn’t had to, either her mum or Diane had taken care of making the copious cups of tea and placing food in front of her, telling her she must eat. Marcus had been marvellous over the past couple of days: he had joined her in the kitchen while they raided the freezer and found food to reheat, and he seemed to take some enjoyment in doing so. He alluded to the fact he rarely undertook any tasks in his own family kitchen and barely knew where the kettle was. They rarely discussed his home life; it was a silent agreement they had made many years ago, that of keeping his two families separate.

  So this morning, as she waited for the kettle to boil, Marcus stood behind her and placed his arms around her waist, burying his head on her shoulder and kissing her neck. They stood in silence, both drinking in the sense of being together, and thinking about what the day may bring.

  Once they had drunk their tea and eaten two pieces of toast Jenni disappeared to the bathroom to have a shower, leaving Marcus to sit on the sofa and gaze out of the window. He watched as two police vehicles made their way slowly down the road. At least the police presence hadn’t dwindled over the past week, something to be grateful for. Marcus looked at the clock and saw that it was almost time for Joan to get to the office. He would telephone and give her the flat’s number as the number to contact him on. He would also ‘phone Terry to see whether he had any information. As he waited for Jenni to finish showering, he couldn’t help survey his thoughts about the last couple of days. While he wished more than anything that Mary was here, he couldn’t help but relish the feeling of being with Jenni. It had been a shock to realise how much he loved her. He supposed he had taken her for granted; his visits to her had become routine over the past nine years or so. He would call in once or twice a week. If it was during the day when Mary wasn’t present, they would go to bed, make love, he would get up and shower, wait for Mary to come home, say hello and then he would leave. It had struck him over the past couple of days what a wonderful young woman Jenni was. At no time had she ever badgered him to visit more often, to take her out, take them on a holiday, nothing. Not once had she nagged him. It was as if he had had a moment of epiphany: he suddenly appreciated her loyalty and yes, more than anything, her love for him.