by Anne Bone
Jane Lewis had appeared from a car, and she spoke directly to the child, obviously thanking her for her work. She then moved to speak to a television crew, a local presenter that Marcus recognised from the news stepped forward to speak to her. It appeared that the police had raised the profile today and he prayed, even though he wasn’t one for praying, that this publicity would to lead to bringing Mary home safe and sound.
I am in trouble today, I couldn’t help it. I had been sitting at the table in the big room and he had told me to show him how well I could read. I didn’t want to read the book, but he said I had to because it was a lesson. He called me Heather, and I couldn’t help it but I shouted at him, I am not called Heather, my name is Mary, and I told him I want to go home, and I didn’t want to be here, I wanted to have my lessons at my school not here. Not in this stupid place. And then I had screamed out that I wanted me mam. He had stood up and towered over me, and shouted at me to be quiet. I couldn’t stop crying and banged my hands down on the table, shouting that I wanted me mam and that he must phone her and tell her I wanted her, and to come and get me. He had shouted again that I should be quiet, and then he grabbed me by my arm and told me to stand. He pulled me up and then marched me back to the little room. He had pushed me into the room and shouted at me that people don’t get what they want all of the time, and as a punishment I wasn’t going to get any tea.
He closed the door after that and locked it. I threw myself on my bed and battered my fists against the pillow. I don’t care if I don’t get any supper, I don’t want his stupid supper, I want me mam’s supper. Then I started to cry again, and I didn’t care that my tears were making my pillow wet. I tried to sing the special, “You are my Sunshine” song, but I couldn’t get the words out. I lay down and curled up on the bed and tried to sing the song in my head.
I think I must have fallen asleep. I woke up when the door opened and I pretended I was still asleep. I watched him as he came into the room and put a plate with some food on it onto the little table that was on the other side of the room. He put a plastic mug down on the bedside cabinet, and then stood looking at me. I didn’t move, and he then turned and went back out of the room closing the door behind him. I waited and then crept out of the bed and went over to see what food he had brought me. There was a plate with two cheese sandwiches and a piece of cherry cake on it. I realised I was hungry so I ate the sandwiches. I don’t like cherries, but I was still hungry so I picked the cherries out of the cake, and hid them under the bed and ate the rest of it. I then looked at what was in the mug and saw it was cocoa. I tasted it, it tasted okay. It was better than the stuff he had given me before, so I drank it.
When I finished I felt a little better, and then I sang my song, I sang it loudly, just hoping that somewhere out there, wherever me mam is, she might just be able to hear me.
Chapter 15
6.30 p.m. Monday 17th September – Police Headquarters
Jane was still in the incident room. She had consumed enough coffee to sink a battleship, and felt a bit jittery as a result of so much caffeine being absorbed into her system. She, like the rest of team, were waiting for the phones to start ringing, as they watched the final titles of the news disappear. Sure enough they started, and the officers manning the phones reached quickly to pick up the receivers.
The room started to buzz with noise. It was a welcome sound; one that she hoped desperately would bring some leads in the otherwise flat enquiry. She watched as the officers listened carefully to the caller and take down the information. Dave was circulating the room peering over the shoulders of the officers, trying to decipher their handwriting and ready to respond to anything that appeared particularly interesting.
Jane continued to gaze around the room; it had been a long day. She couldn’t help but remember the deep wrenching sobs of Jenni Dinnet this morning. A mother’s grief, and one she craved to end with a positive outcome. She was realistic though, and knew that a child missing for a week would more likely turn into a murder enquiry, but while there was no body then there was hope. She had been a police officer long enough to know that that, of course, did not mean the child was still alive, it just meant they hadn’t discovered the body.
Jane’s previous experience of seeking missing children had been different. Beth and Marty Paton’s children were alive; they had known it as they had had numerous sightings. They even knew more or less who had taken them. In fact, they hadn’t been taken, they had been given to their abductors by their maternal grandfather. In this current case, they had nothing, no sightings, no descriptions and no information. It was as if the child had vanished. She knew that this was impossible, someone had taken her.
An hour later, the phones quietened, the flurry had stopped and Dave called the officers attention. He had been analysing the reports of the calls to see whether there was any patterns. There were three callers who gave the same name of a man, Robert Laing, who lived in a caravan site on the edge of the city. The callers suggested that he was a strange type of guy, and all had claimed he had shown an interest in children, whatever that meant.
One of the callers was a neighbour, who described how she had seen him carrying a large bundle into the caravan last Tuesday, and then he carried it out again the following day. The other two callers who had named him had both said they were suspicious of him as he seemed a loner and was often seen hanging around the local play park.
Dave wrote his name in large letters on the white board. Did they have their first suspect? ‘Did any of these callers say why they hadn’t called us before?’ Jane asked.
‘Mam, the caller who described him carrying a large bundle apparently had been thinking about it, but claimed she hadn’t wanted to accuse him as he was a neighbour, but after watching the news and seeing the mother so distressed she decided to pick up the phone.’
‘Right, well,’ Dave took the lead, ‘first, do we have anything on this Robert Laing?’
‘No, nothing comes up sir; he doesn’t appear to have been known to police before.’
‘Right then.’ Jane couldn’t help it, but for the first time in several days felt that tingle of adrenalin. ‘First, we need to speak directly to the three callers, especially the neighbour. Are you going to do that Dave?’ she asked. ‘While you are doing that, I will sift through the rest of the info to see whether there is anyone else who has been reported as acting suspiciously.’
The atmosphere in the incident room had changed, it suddenly was charged, and at long last they had something to go on. Dave left, taking one of the team with him. He looked weary, but Jane knew that he would look less weary if he got something positive. She checked that the team had put a call into the English police to run a check on this man. At this point they knew very little about him and needed to build up a profile.
It was some time later that as she sat at her desk her thoughts were interrupted by a knock. Dave entered, ‘How did it go?’ she asked him.
‘Well now, seems like this Robert Laing has been living in the caravan for about three months. He is in his forties and the neighbour who, by the way, is an old biddy, and goodness knows why she didn’t call us before now, says that he told her he comes from Newcastle. Why he is in Aberdeen she wasn’t sure, other than he told her he was trying to get work offshore. He has a car, a green Ford Escort estate, and she said that the bundle was covered in some sort of blanket and looked as though he was having a struggle to carry it. The neighbour said she thought it looked heavy. Anyway, while we were visiting her, we were able to get the number plate, and it turns out, it is registered to a Robert Laird, not Laing, and the address it is registered to is a Sunderland address. We are checking with the Northumberland cops now.’
‘What do you think of the neighbour, Dave?’
‘As I said she’s an older woman who has lived in the caravan for years. She takes it on herself to try and keep the site tidy and cared for. She was a wee bit tipsy, and I would suspect she takes a dram quite often. Saying that,
she was quite lucid and able to give us a description of this guy. I suspect also that she is careful about engaging with anyone, just got the impression that she would be wary.’ He shuffled some papers and resumed, ‘I would think that that’s one of the reasons she didn’t call us before, being a wee bit scared of being at risk from retaliation. The site is mostly used by homeless or transient folk. She is probably the only long-term resident,’ he told her, placing his notebook on the desk as he took a seat.
The door opened this time without a knock, but obviously the young female officer was in a hurry and didn’t follow protocol by knocking on the boss’s door. ‘Mam, Sir, we have just spoken to Northumberland, who have checked. Robert Laird, aged forty-two, is known to them.’
The young officer immediately had the full attention of the two senior officers. She read from the paper she was holding. ‘He has one conviction for assault against a man; this was in 1981, three years ago, then in 1982 there was a complaint from a head teacher that he had been hanging around a primary school ”watching” children. This was followed up and he was warned off, but no charges.’ She read on, ‘A year ago he was living with a single parent and her two children. One of the children, a twelve year old female, made an allegation of a sexual nature against him. Social Services were involved and there was an investigation, however, there were no charges brought, not enough evidence apparently. He moved out of the house and they hadn’t heard anything more about him until our call.’
‘Do we know what the allegation was?’ asked Dave.
She looked down again at the paper in her hand, ‘It was that he touched her inappropriately, but there was no physical evidence. Seems like it was one of those word against” cases.’
‘Thank you, Mina, well done. Can you get that all written up and placed on the board?’ She dismissed the young woman with a smile. Turning to Dave she said, ‘I think that you should go and bring Mr Laird in, so we can have a word, don’t you?’
‘I agree. Better make it tonight before he gets wind of our visit to his neighbour. We don’t want him to decide to leave the area.’ Dave left the room signalling to one of his detectives to accompany him. He was hoping beyond hope that they had finally got the lead they needed and they were on their way to solving this case.
Chapter 16
Tuesday 18th September - Aberdeen
It had been a long night, one without sleep for both Jane and Dave. Robert Laird had not resisted and had willingly accompanied Dave to Queen Street. He seemed surprised when he was told that they wanted to speak to him in regard to the missing child enquiry. He had immediately informed the officer that he had nothing to do with a missing child, and had nothing to hide. When he arrived at Queen Street he had been taken to an interview room, and had cooperated during the initial interview, answering questions quietly and carefully. He told how he had moved to Aberdeen four months ago. At first he had stayed in B&Bs, but as this became more expensive he had rented the caravan. He was trying to get work offshore, but so far hadn’t been successful.
As he was being interviewed, Jane watched via the two-way mirror. She noticed that he seemed unruffled about being brought into the station. As the questions turned to his past and, in particular, about the allegation made by the young girl, he became agitated, insisting that she was a little liar and he had never touched her. He challenged Dave to show some evidence that he had done anything wrong, insisting that if he had, then surely the police would have charged him at the time.
When he was asked to account for his whereabouts on the day Mary disappeared, he claimed he hadn’t been in Aberdeen. He seemed to become more uncomfortable when pressed about where exactly he had been. He said that he had travelled to Deeside, and had spent the day walking. While he had insisted that this was so, he hadn’t been accompanied by anyone, he had been alone. He had agreed with his interviewers that they were right in their assumptions that nobody could verify his trip.
Early that morning Jane had applied for a search warrant, and a scene of crime unit plus a squad of detectives had duly been dispatched to undertake a search of the caravan. His car had also been secured and was currently being given the once over by the forensic team. They were waiting now with bated breath to see what would be found.
Laird had been placed in a cell, informed that he was under caution and being investigated for the whereabouts of Mary Dinnet. He had appeared shocked and had not given any response other than to say again that he had nothing to with any disappearance.
Dave had not been able to settle, and so joined the team at the caravan. He had just arrived when he was met with one of the officers saying that they had found photographs of naked children. Boys and girls, primary aged, pre-puberty. The photos had been found hidden and taped to the underside of a shelf under the sink. On further examination they had found some videos but it was not clear what these contained as they were unmarked. It was noted that there was no video player within the caravan.
They had found some articles of clothing. It would appear that there were traces of blood on the outside of a jacket, together with what appeared to be an effort to wipe it off. One of the officers had then appeared with several newspaper cuttings – these had been carefully cut out, and they were all of Mary.
Patently, what was found was suspicious, and enough to raise Dave’s adrenalin so that tiredness became a distant memory. The adrenalin was further increased when they had returned to the station and found a video recorder. The videos were sickening, and showed a male child being tied down and sexually abused. The other showed a young naked girl; the filming of the girl appeared to have been undertaken without her knowledge, as she lay in a bath and washed herself.
Both Dave and Jane felt their anger and disgust rise as they watched the videos. The video, added to photos of the naked unknown children, was enough for them to increase their suspicions, and indeed reach a conclusion that they may have found Mary’s abductor.
A call then came from the forensic team who were tasked with examining the car. They had found traces of blood in the back of the car. The blood sample would be analysed to see whether it was of the same blood group as that of Mary.
Jane and Dave shared a table in the force canteen. They both had a plate of bacon and eggs, and a mug of strong coffee to go along with it. Neither tasted the food, but needed it to fortify them and use as brain fodder to help them maintain a focus. After they had finished their breakfast they were going to start a formal interview. Dave would take the lead, accompanied by DC Richard Christie, Jane would observe. They had a plan and they now had some evidence to verify that Laird had a very unhealthy interest in children. He had asked for a legal representative, and once the duty solicitor arrived they would begin the interview.
They both felt better for the food they had eaten. That with the coffee had revived them, both felt alert and focused. Jane felt a tingling down her spine as she realised they were maybe on the cusp of finding out what had happened to Mary. While this was a breakthrough, it also meant that Mary was likely to have come to some harm, and this was not what she would have hoped for.
The interview had commenced. Dave had started off in a very downbeat manner. He started by asking whether Laird had an interest in children. He had replied that he hadn’t. Dave reached across to the grey folder and opened it to reveal the photographs of the naked children, placing them on the table before Laird and the solicitor. Laird’s eyes flickered, he swallowed several times, and when asked what he knew about these photographs that were found in his caravan, he shook his head and denied all knowledge.
He was lying. Jane knew the signs and she watched carefully as he moved his hands backwards and forwards on his lap under the table. He was sweating; he was not being honest, she had no doubt in her mind, he was lying. Laird continued to deny any knowledge of photographs or of any of the contents of the two videos that were found. He claimed they must have been in the caravan before he took up residence.
When the questions started
again about where he was when Mary had disappeared, he repeated he had been walking up at Deeside. He repeated again that he had been alone, had left the caravan in the morning about ten o’clock and returned about seven o’clock that evening. He hadn’t stopped anywhere and, therefore, no one could verify his alibi.
When he was asked why he had newspaper cuttings of Mary, he had said that he had been interested in the search for her, but for no other reason. Jane noticed that his sweating appeared to have increased. He was evidently rattled and becoming more anxious. He continued to claim he knew nothing of her disappearance.
Dave began to increase the pressure, asking him where Mary was, and what he had done with her. He informed Laird that they had found blood in the back of his car and on his jacket. How had that got there? Dave had placed his elbows on the table and stared hard at him, demanding an answer. Laird stumbled over his words. He didn’t know, all he could think of was that it may have come from having sex with a prostitute a few days ago.
Jane sat up, this was new. She listened carefully as Laird gave an account of picking up a prostitute near the harbour on Tuesday night and they had sex in the back of his car. He claimed that she had bled and he had realised that when he got home he had blood on his jacket. He gave a very vague description of a girl, who he said spoke with a Glasgow accent. The description was nondescript: about five feet five inches tall, brown hair, thin and it was dark so he hadn’t really looked at her. He had driven the car down to the beach and they had got into the back seat. He claimed the transaction took no longer than half an hour, the actual act seemingly lasting a very short time. Yes, he had used a condom which he had discarded out of the window.
