SNATCHED BAIRN: Scottish Fiction

by Anne Bone

  Dave then confronted him with the information the neighbour had provided, that he had been seen carrying a large bundle into the caravan on Tuesday. What was it? Laird had thought for a minute and then replied that he had been carrying a bundle of clothes and nothing else. He was bemused when it was suggested that the bundle appeared to be moving and he was struggling with it. He agreed that the bundle had been large, but totally refuted that he had been struggling with it.

  Dave pressed him again to tell him what he had done with Mary and again he denied any involvement. As the interview continued, the pressure increased. Eventually, Laird yelled in Dave’s face that he had nothing to do with Mary’s disappearance, he was innocent.

  Dave ended the interview at this point and asked that Laird be escorted back downstairs to the cell, while they considered their next move. Jane met him in the adjoining room. ‘What do you think, Boss?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, we can definitely charge him with being in possession of pornographic and indecent images of children. We need to try and trace this prostitute. He has given us such a poor description, I don’t hold out a lot of hope that we will manage to trace her.’ She was well aware that with the way the girls who worked down at the harbour protected each other, they were unlikely to get much help.

  As they returned to the incident room, which was still buzzing, one of the team approached Dave. ‘Sir, we have sifted through all the witness statements we took the day of Mary’s disappearance. There was one who did say she had seen a green estate car driving up and down the road beside the school that morning. Do you think it could have been Laird’s?’

  ‘Did we follow that up at the time?’

  ‘Yes, we did try to, but there was only one sighting and there was no registration number, so we just noted it.’

  As Jane and Dave waited for the results of the blood testing, they chewed over what they had so far. Yes, it was circumstantial, but his alibi was suspicious, a whole day out and no one could substantiate this. He had in his possession items that would indicate that he was a paedophile, there had been that allegation made by the girl in Sunderland, and then there was the blood. If this turned out to be the same blood group as Mary’s, was that enough to charge him? Jane thought it was. She reminded Dave that he also had the press cuttings of Mary. Was that not also slightly unusual to carefully cut out photos of the missing child?

  The officer who had been dispatched to speak to the witness who had seen the green car had returned. The witness had been sure that the car was similar to the one shown to him by the officer. It was a green Ford estate, and the witness was also able to describe the man who had been driving. The description fitted Laird.

  Shortly after receiving this piece of information, the forensic team phoned to say that the blood found both in the car and on his clothes was from group A, the same as Mary’s. So, with a stern resignation, Dave made his way back downstairs to the interview room where Laird and his solicitor awaited. He put to Laird that the blood found was the same group as the missing girl. Laird continued to say it was from the prostitute, and nothing to do with the child.

  With a mixture of a heavy heart and relief, Dave informed Robert Laird that he was charged with having in his possession indecent images of children, and that he was also being charged with the abduction of Mary Dinnet. He asked him whether he had anything to say, and Laird shook his head. Dave asked again, whether he would tell them what he had done with Mary. He shook his head, looked him in the eye and forcefully said that he was innocent.

  Chapter 17

  Tuesday 18th September - Aberdeen

  Jane and Dave made the short journey to 49C Treeside Road; they both felt tense and were girding their loins at the news they had to impart to Jenni Dinnet. They hadn’t phoned ahead, but they knew they needed to act quickly so that the information could be passed to Mary’s parents before the press found out. They had already been alerted that the press had been tipped off that they had someone in custody; they had replied that they had been following lines of enquiry. But now they had charged him they needed to let Jenni know as soon as possible.

  They drew up outside the building and looked up to see that the curtains were drawn across the front windows. They had heard that the press were still hanging about trying to get photos of the distressed mother.

  As they climbed the stairs up to the flat’s front door, they felt the weight of the dreadful task they had to perform making their climb feel as though it was scaling Everest. The doorbell was answered by Marcus. Jane was slightly reassured that at least he was with Jenni and would be able to comfort her. He immediately was aware of their demeanour, which he recognised only meant one thing, it was not good news.

  Jenni was lying on the sofa, and jumped up when the two senior officers entered the room. Marcus was behind them, and moved quickly across the room to be beside Jenni She looked at their sober faces and asked, ‘So have you found her?’

  ‘Mr Davidson… Jenni, we haven’t found Mary, but we have arrested and charged a man with her abduction.’

  Jenni sat down on the sofa, her face a chalky white. ‘What do you mean you have charged someone with her abduction, where is she then?’ Marcus sat down beside her, his face equally as bleak.

  Jane began, ‘Miss Dinnet, Jenni, we believe that the man we have in custody has abducted Mary. He hasn’t admitted it, and continues to deny that he has had anything to do with her disappearance. However, there are certain items that we have found in his possession that provide evidence to his background, and we believe he was in the area on the day of her disappearance. We have charged him and he will go before the courts tomorrow morning. And we will ask and expect the court to agree that he will be remanded in custody. While we don’t have Mary, we have to say that we believe that she may have come to some harm. We hope that he will reveal where her… where she is.’ Jane couldn’t bring herself to say her body, even though that was what she was thinking.

  Marcus said the words instead, ‘So, you believe that Mary is dead. And this man has killed her, that’s what you think don’t you?’

  Dave answered, ‘Yes, Mr Davidson, I am afraid that is the conclusion we have come to. But, while there is no body it would be difficult to prove murder. We have enough to charge him with abduction, and we will continue to investigate until we find her.’

  On hearing this, Jenni collapsed onto the floor. The wail started at the bottom of her abdomen, and as it flowed up through her body it gathered speed and energy, so that when it left her mouth it was the sound of a wounded animal. It was primal. She sank her face into the carpet and screamed, the words were incomprehensible, apart from ‘No! No! No!’

  Marcus knelt down and tried to take her arm but she threw it off, and turned and screamed into his face, ‘My baby, my beautiful girl is not dead! I will not have it! I will not have it said! I am telling you she is not dead, I would know!’

  She allowed him to help her to her feet then she turned her head to Jane, she looked her directly in eye and said quietly now, ‘She is not dead. You must find her.’

  Jane nodded. She was not going to argue with this young woman. She knew they needed to still find Mary, although in her view they would now be searching for a body. But she had no doubt that they had apprehended the right man responsible for the child’s demise. They offered nothing else, there was nothing else they could do at this point but leave. They did so quietly, looking back as they observed the big burly dark-haired man carefully hold the fragile woman in his arms; the taste of grief was tangible.

  Later, Jenni lay on Mary’s bed, hugging her pillow to her, trying to smell what was left of her special smell. It was fading now, but she would keep it as long as she could. She had forbidden her mother to wash the sheets, and as she lay there now, she couldn’t help that her thoughts returned to all of the times she had spent in this room, loving and taking care of her child. Those early years flashed through her mind, like pictures dancing in front of her eyes. She remembered the time
s when Mary had been a tiny baby, and she used to creep into the room at the dead of night, to stand and watch her, to stare in amazement at the child that she had created. At times, fearful that something terrible would befall her, she would stand holding her own breath until she had been rewarded with the rise and fall of her baby’s chest, reassuring that she was alive and breathing. Then came the nights when she would be teething, when she would sit on the small rocking chair, comforting and consoling her, singing “You are my Sunshine”, and she was, she would always be her sunshine. So many times she had been on her own, a young mum, not sure whether she was doing the right thing. It was on those nights she had felt alone, when she had wished with all of her heart that Marcus could be alongside her, sharing the responsibility, but he hadn’t ever been there beside her, in the darkness of the night, when her anxiety had been at its highest. Many a time she had raged to herself how stupid she was to put up with the crumbs he scattered to her, she would convince herself she would end it, but then he would appear and she would melt before him again.

  Jenni picked up a book that they had been reading as a bedtime story before she had been taken. She had loved those times when, at the end of Mary’s day, they had shared that precious time, sitting beside her lovely girl’s bed reading her stories. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was her favourite. She loved it when Jenni had read in funny voices. And her laughter rang out in Jenni’s memory, that bubbling, tinkling sound, and now it was quiet. The flat was too quiet.

  She was still trying to process the news that the police had given them about the arrest. She still didn’t believe that her little girl was no longer walking on this earth. She felt it in her being that she would know. It would be instinctive; she would have that unique sensitivity of depth of feeling if her child were dead. There, she had thought the word that she had allowed to quiver on the edge of her mind. Dead! She wasn’t dead, and she wouldn’t accept that she was until she held her lifeless body in her arms. Until that time, there was hope, no matter what the police said.

  Marcus was still with her, and tomorrow he would leave and her mum would return. She was not sure how she felt about that. She would miss him, he had been a great comfort to her over the past couple of days, and they had shared both their anxiety and their love. She knew that he had to go back to his real life, and she would need to find a way to get through the days without going mad. She felt at times that she was teetering on the edge of madness, just waiting for the abyss that would open up and be in front of her. She fantasised how she would leap into it and end it… or could she hold on. She had to hold on though, didn’t she, as she needed to be here when they found her darling girl. But then they no longer believe that they will bring a talking and laughing child home, it would only be a body with no life in it that would be offered to her. When that happened she may go headlong into the abyss, because there would be nothing else to keep her here.

  She stood up and went to the small wooden wardrobe that was in the corner of the room. She opened the doors and placed her head into it, drew a long deep breath and allowed the smell to penetrate her senses. This was Mary, her child’s special smell that was of her; she was not dead. She would use this as a mantra to keep her from teetering.

  She reached out and took the blue woollen winter coat from its hanger. Clutching it to her face, she buried her nose into it. She remembered when they bought this in C&As last winter. They had spent the morning in town having a special treat of going to the New Market where they had fish, chips and peas, and Mary had ice cream to finish. They enjoyed eating out, something that rarely happened, even though Jenni could afford to do so. There was one thing about Marcus, and that was that he had never kept them short of money. The allowance that he gave her every month would have easily allowed them to eat out once a week, and buy a new coat for Jenni from the best shops in Aberdeen. But that was not who Jenni was. She ensured that she placed money not used in a savings account; this would be for Mary’s future.

  While Jenni loved Marcus dearly, she was also very aware that she and Mary were not the main priorities in his life. She came second to his family, and she knew that should something bad happen to him, then she would be on her own. He had assured her that the flat was in her name, and that in his will he had named her and would provide for her and Mary. Jenni was not naïve, and while this was what he may have wanted, his family may have other ways of ensuring she wasn’t looked after. So Jenni secreted away money every month to ensure that whatever happened they would not be penniless. There was quite a fund now, and while she hoped that it would never be used, it was there, a safety net, just in case.

  As she placed the blue woollen coat back on to its hanger, and closed the wardrobe door tightly to seal the clothes within, she straightened her back with a determination that she would not allow herself to diminish further.

  Marcus was in the kitchen. He was becoming a dab hand at defrosting the meals and placing them in the oven to reheat. Jenni doubted he ever did this at his home as from the few times they had discussed Veronica she knew that his wife took charge of the kitchen and placed all of his food in front of him. Now he appeared to gain some pleasure out of dishing up food onto plates and placing them in front of her, on the small table in the corner of the kitchen. He smiled at her when she came into the room

  ‘Are you feeling any better, darling?’ he asked, searching her face for any signs that she was processing the information that they had received.

  ‘Oh Marcus, I don’t think I will ever be any better, not until I get my quine back. Do you think they have got the right man? What if they haven’t? Does that mean they’ll stop searching for her? What then?’ The questions that were plaguing her mind bubbled out, tripping from her lips as though they were small sparks of energy.

  He went over to her and took her into his arms, and hugging her tight, he whispered, ‘We will have to wait and hope that the bastard tells them. I will demand they keep searching, my darling.’ He pulled away from her and looked her straight at her. ‘And, my darling, I am going to make some changes.’

  She looked puzzled, ‘Like what?’ she asked.

  ‘Well, for a start, I am going to spend more time with you. I need to be with you and I have realised over the last few days how unfair I have been.’ He smiled, his brown eyes with their deeply ingrained laughter lines depicting his age, but they were serious, meaningful, ‘I love you, you know that don’t you? I think I have just realised how much I love you.’

  She watched him as he let go of her, and turned his back seemingly to gain control of himself. He was showing emotions over the past few days that he had never ever shared with her. It was strange, but he had told her that he loved her more over the past couple of days, than he had in the last ten years. Oh, he had told her before; he had showed her before in the way he held her, and during the times when their passion was at its highest, he called it out. He could be tender, but this was a side that was often absent from him. He was strong, powerful and at times brusque; perhaps those were the qualities that had attracted him to her: never knowing quite what he was thinking, never taking him for granted, never knowing when he would call. Perhaps it was this that kept their relationship as passionate for so long, that sense of excitement when she heard his key in the door, the knowledge that their time together would be brief. Their secret. She sometimes felt powerful too, she the young waitress who had caught the powerful Mr Marcus Davidson, the man who had been known for his philandering. Yet there was one thing that she was certain about, this had stopped when he had bedded her. She knew that she held some power over him, he needed her, something about her had been enough to meet his needs and he stopped wandering. She was his woman.

  She went over to him and placed her arms around his waist; she had needed him over the past few days and had been grateful that she had been able to share her trauma with the one person in the world that was part of Mary. They had made her, and now he was stating that he was going to spend more time with her.
She swallowed the angry retort that if only he had spent more time with her and Mary over the past nine years, Mary would know him as her dad. But she didn’t allow the words to come out, she knew without saying them that he was thinking those words, that the guilt of not being there for their daughter had taken root. She just hoped that any actions he took now in changing their relationship wouldn’t be out of guilt, but out of love.

  They had eaten the food, or in Jenni’s case, picked at the food, with Marcus encouraging her as if she was a small child. They both shared the task of washing the dishes. When the kitchen was tidy they both went into the sitting room. There was an atmosphere of deep sorrow; neither knew how to eradicate it. What did they do now? The tense waiting had stopped, was this it? Jenni sat wringing her hands, and jumped as the phone rang out. She decided she was going to answer it; she had to start doing so. A sigh of relief escaped her tense face, when she realised it was Beth; her daily phone call had come later than usual today.

  Beth had heard that there had been an arrest, although she had no details. Jenni filled her in with what they police had divulged to her. Beth listened carefully to what was being said, and to what that was being left unsaid. ‘So, it seems that they haven’t found Mary,’ stated Jenni, ‘they have this man Robert Laird in custody, but he hasn’t said where Mary is, or what has happened to her. Apparently he is denying all knowledge. So we are left waiting again.’

  ‘I am so sorry Jenni. It is awful for you. Would you like me to come round to see you?’

  They agreed that Beth would call round the following day. Today she wanted to just be with Marcus, to spend the time with him before he went back to his life, to grab the moment and allow her to pretend that they were a couple living together, just for a few more hours.