Stolen Children
Sally jumped at the sound of her name. She turned around and saw a woman a few feet behind her in jeans and a sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wore no make-up and looked unwashed and shattered, as if sleep had eluded her for weeks. She looked haunted, frightened.
Sally didn’t say anything. She had no idea who this woman was, but she obviously knew her. Woody, placid and playful, would, hopefully, come to her aid if needed.
The woman stepped forward.
‘I’m sorry to confront you like this. I hate myself for coming to see you, but I have nowhere else to go and I’m desperate.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t think …’
‘Please,’ she interrupted, again, taking another step forward. ‘Please, let me say what I’ve got to say, or I’ll never say it. I’m Linda Armitage. My nine-year-old daughter was kidnapped yesterday. The kidnappers called and said they want fifty thousand pounds. We don’t have that kind of money. We don’t have anywhere near that amount. I spent most of the night making a list of what we could sell, but I only totalled it up to around twenty thousand, if that. I need my daughter back,’ she said, wiping away tears. ‘I’m not asking you to give me the money, but I was hoping you’d lend it to me. I’ll pay you back, a little each month, with interest. I don’t know who else to turn to.’
Linda was desperate, that much was obvious. Her rambling, her tears, her knotting her fingers together were all signs of a woman on the edge.
‘I read about your daughter on Twitter last night. I’m terribly sorry for what you’re going through.’ Linda proffered a weak smile. ‘If there was anything I could do, I would.’
‘You could let me have the money,’ she said, holding out her hand as if Sally had fifty grand in her back pocket instead of a roll of poop sacks.
‘I don’t have it.’
‘The kidnappers wanted two hundred and fifty thousand for your Carl. You had that in a bag for the ransom drop. I’ve read the book.’ Linda’s face turned red with rage.
‘I know. We did that against the police’s advice. They told us not to pay the ransom. Kidnapping for ransom is a form of terrorism and the police don’t give in to terrorist demands. We went against their will and look how that turned out for us. We lost Carl.’
A tear rolled down Sally’s face and she didn’t wipe it away.
‘The worst thing you can do is pay the ransom demand.’
‘But I need my Keeley back.’ She fumbled for her phone, unlocked it and swiped through the menus until she found a photo. She held it out for Sally to see. ‘Look how beautiful she is. Look how sweet and innocent she is. Do you have any idea what may be happening to her right now?’
‘Yes, I do, because I’ve thought of the exact same things happening to Carl.’
‘I’m begging you, Mrs Meagan, as one mother to another, please, help me.’
‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’
Sally turned to walk away. She wanted to go back home. The one shred of hope she’d felt last night had been obliterated as the memory returned of walking into her home, seeing her mother dead and her son missing. It never really went away, but it was locked up, deep in the recesses of her mind. Now, the door had been flung wide open, and everything came back.
‘We’ve got your son, Sally. We want two hundred and fifty thousand pounds or we sell him to the highest bidder.’
‘We don’t have that kind of money.’
‘Let’s not play these games, Sally. Stop listening to the police and listen to me. Get the money sorted or your pretty little boy ends up in some paedo’s basement.’
‘You can’t?’ Linda screamed. ‘What do you mean, you can’t? I’ve seen the house you live in. I’ve read about all the restaurants you have and the number of staff you employ. You seemed to come up with the quarter of a million for your son easily enough, but you won’t give me fifty thousand?’
‘You need to talk to the police, Mrs Armitage,’ Sally said, walking quickly away. ‘They will advise you every step of the way. I’m sorry.’ The tears were rapidly falling. She wanted Carl back more than anything in the world. She’d sell the house, her jewellery, the restaurants, everything, but she couldn’t get caught up in someone else’s drama. She wasn’t strong enough for that.
Linda didn’t give chase. ‘You’re heartless, do you know that?’ She shouted after her. ‘You’re hurting and in pain because you didn’t get your son back, I understand that, but to put other families through the same thing when you’re in a position to help makes you one evil bitch.’
‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly to herself as she pulled hard on Woody’s lead for him to keep up with her. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.’
Chapter 9
Matilda looked at herself in the mirror in the hallway. She was looking old. A sleepless night of tossing and turning, her mind a whirl of missing children and the dark nightmare of what they were going through, had taken its toll. She had black circles beneath her eyes, more wrinkles seemed to have appeared during the hours of darkness, and it didn’t matter what she did with her short dark hair it stuck out in random places.
There was a knock on the door. She opened it to see Sian standing on the doorstep, looking in a similar state of distress.
‘The more I look at myself in the mirror, the more I see my mother staring back at me,’ Matilda said.
‘I’ve given up looking in mirrors. When you’ve got four kids – five if you count my Stuart – then people expect you to look a mess,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘You don’t look like you’ve slept much.’
‘I haven’t.’
‘No. Me neither. I had a call from Ellen Devonport about half seven, too.’
‘Oh.’
‘Linda Armitage sneaked out of the house. She came back, slammed the door behind her and went straight upstairs. She wouldn’t talk to anyone.’
Matilda frowned. ‘Where had she been?’
‘They don’t know.’
‘How long had she been out?’
‘They don’t know that either.’
***
Sian drove with Matilda in the passenger seat, looking at her reflection in the small mirror in the visor.
‘You’d think people would prepare you for old age, tell you about the lines on your forehead and crow’s feet.’
‘You’re only forty-f—’
‘Don’t say the f-word,’ Matilda interrupted.
‘My Stuart says wrinkles are a sign of a life well lived.’
‘Do you believe him?’
‘I believed him when he said having four kids would be fun. Silly sod. I also believed him when he said he’d help out if we had a big party for our silver wedding anniversary.’
‘How are the preparations going?’
‘Slowly. He’s full of ideas but he expects me to put them into action.’
‘Typical.’
‘I’m on the internet all night trying to find someone to make an ice sculpture while he’s flicking through Sky. He’s about as much use as a condom machine in a monastery.’
‘An ice sculpture? Really?’
‘I know. Tacky isn’t it? I’m trying to put him off the idea.’
They turned off Stannington Road into Acorn Drive and pulled up outside the Armitage House. Craig’s dirty Mercedes Sprinter was parked in the driveway.
Sian made to get out of the car while Matilda stayed and stared at the house.
‘What’s wrong?’ Sian asked.
‘This doesn’t look like the house of someone who has fifty grand to spare,’ she said, taking off her seatbelt.
It was still only early, and the pavements were littered with mums and dads taking their children to school. The faces of the parents were drawn and full of worry. It appeared that word had got out about Keeley’s disappearance.
Matilda and Sian received strange looks from passers-by as they made their way up the garden path. As much as they tried not to look like detectives, it wasn’t easy when everyone was glaring at them. Their job seemed to emanate from them. A few lingered to see how distressed Linda was when she opened the door. They were disappointed when it was Ellen – a face they had never seen before.
‘How are they all?’ Matilda asked.
‘As you’d expect. Craig’s decided to stay off work today and Jodie isn’t going to school.’
‘Good idea,’ Sian said.
‘Do you know where Linda went yet?’
‘No. She won’t tell us.’
‘Is she still in bed?’
‘No. She’s in the living room. They all are.’
‘Right. I’d better go and introduce myself,’ Matilda said.
Outside the living room door, Matilda paused and braced herself. She took a deep breath and knocked lightly before entering.
She was hit immediately by the dense atmosphere. Grim faces turned to look at her. Craig was sitting with Riley on his lap. Jodie was cross-legged in the armchair wearing her pyjamas and dressing gown. Linda was on the sofa, staring into space, her eyes wide and full of tears. It was happening all over again.
‘This is DCI Darke,’ Ellen said, making the introduction. ‘She’s going to be leading the investigation into finding Keeley.’
‘Darke?’ Linda asked. ‘As in Matilda Darke?’
‘That’s right,’ Matilda nodded.
‘Jesus Chris! We’re never going to get our Keeley back,’ she sobbed, pulling another tissue out of the box on the coffee table in front of her and wiping her red eyes. The table was littered with crumpled tissues. She stood up and went over to the window.
‘Linda!’ Craig admonished.
‘I mean it. Have you read this?’
From a bookcase behind her packed with paperbacks, Linda picked one from the third shelf and threw it with force at her husband. He batted it away so it wouldn’t hit Riley. It landed face up on the sofa. Matilda looked at it and saw the book written by Sally Meagan about her missing son. The smiling face of Carl in happier times looked up at her. Matilda’s heart sank. Neither she nor the South Yorkshire Police were painted in the best light. Since the book had been released, tensions between Matilda and Sally had eased slightly. They would never be best friends but there was a mutual respect for each other as they worked together to try and find out what had happened to Carl.
‘Yes, I’ve read it. Not every case can be solved, love, you know that. That doesn’t mean to say she can’t find our Keeley. I’m sorry,’ he said to Matilda.
Matilda gave a pained smile as she shrunk into herself and edged back towards the door.
‘Don’t apologise for me,’ Linda said. ‘Can we request another detective?’ She asked, looking to Sian.
‘Linda,’ Ellen began, her voice quivering slightly. ‘I can assure you that DCI Darke is the best person to be working on this case. She is the finest detective within South Yorkshire Police, and she will leave no stone unturned in finding your daughter.’
‘Then why isn’t she then? Why aren’t any of you out there turning over these stones?’ She turned to look out of the window. ‘Where are the police cars? Where are the helicopters?’
‘It’s not as simple as that, Mrs Armitage. We need to go through exactly what happened.’
‘I explained all this last night. Don’t you lot communicate with each other?’ she asked. She was visibly shaking, and beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. ‘My daughter is missing. She’s been taken, kidnapped, and you need to find her.’
‘We are doing everything—’
‘In our power,’ she interrupted. She spoke with pure venom.
‘Linda, why don’t you come and sit down,’ Craig said.
‘I don’t want to fucking sit down,’ she exploded. ‘I can’t sit around here drinking tea while God knows what’s happening to my daughter. If you’re not going to do anything, I’ll find her myself.’ She stormed out of the living room.
‘Mum,’ Jodie whimpered, tears streaming down her face.
Craig stood up. He handed Riley to Jodie and followed his wife out of the room.
Matilda, Sian, and Ellen stood awkwardly in the living room while voices were raised out in the hallway. Linda was spitting venom and saying harsh words about Matilda. She’d heard them all before, but it still hurt to hear them again.
Craig opened the door and stepped back in on his own. ‘She’s gone for a lie down,’ he said. ‘I really am sorry for what she said. She’s not usually like this.’
‘It’s perfectly understandable,’ Matilda said, though she would be lying if she said it hadn’t hit a raw nerve. Matilda sat on the sofa next to Craig. ‘I know you and Linda answered a lot of questions with DS Mills last night, but I’d like to ask some of my own.’
‘That’s fine,’ he nodded. Craig looked shattered. His eyes were barely open and fatigue was evident in the slow way he moved.
‘The kidnapping,’ Matilda began. ‘As I’m sure you’re aware, kidnappings don’t happen very often in this country. Is there a chance someone could be playing a prank?’
‘A prank? No. No. Of course not. Who would do something like that?’
‘Ok. Is there anyone you can think of who may have a grudge against you?’
‘No,’ he replied quickly.
‘Have you had any arguments or fights with anyone lately?’
‘No.’
‘Has anything out of the ordinary happened to any of you recently to bring unwarranted attention?’
‘No!’ He snapped.
‘Have you, or anyone, noticed anyone hanging around the house, any strange phone calls, emails or texts?’
‘No. Nothing.’
Matilda adjusted herself on the uncomfortable sofa. It was infuriating the way people lived in their own bubble, unaware of what was happening in the real world. Until something outlandish like a kidnapping happens, the signs of a stranger lurking in the shadows are rarely seen. Why didn’t people open their bloody eyes more? ‘Craig, do you have the fifty thousand pounds asked by the kidnappers?’
‘No, we don’t,’ he said, running his fingers through his messy hair.
‘In cases like this, when someone is kidnapped for ransom, the kidnappers know the family is able to raise that kind of money.’ She immediately thought of the Meagans and their lavish lifestyle. ‘Can you think of anyone who would think you can get your hands on fifty thousand?’
‘No,’ he said, getting up from the sofa and going over to the window. He turned back to Matilda. ‘Look, we’re just a regular, normal family. We’re not rich. We don’t go on expensive holidays. We don’t drive big cars. I’m working two jobs to try and keep us solvent. I work seven days a week to provide for my family. There are times when I don’t see my kids for days because I’m out before they get up and I don’t come home until they’re in bed,’ he was struggling to keep hold of his emotions. ‘We don’t have a spare fifty quid let alone fifty grand.’
‘Dad,’ Jodie whimpered. She held out her hand and he took it, perching next to her on the armchair.
‘We’re not rich. We’re not famous. We’re just an ordinary family trying to survive in this bastard of a world,’ he cried.
Matilda looked at Ellen and nodded slightly towards Jodie.
‘Jodie, why don’t you and I go and feed Riley. It must be past his breakfast time by now.’
‘Dad?’ She asked, looking at her father with wet eyes.
‘It’s ok, love, you go and feed your brother.’
Matilda waited until they were all out of the living room before she spoke. Sian had joined her on the sofa.
‘Craig, I’m sorry for the questions I’m asking. I’m just trying to find out who would have taken your daughter.’
‘It’s fine. I know you’re only doing your job. It’s just … I feel so helpless.’
‘That’s understandable. Craig, where were you when your wife called you yesterday to say Keeley had gone missing?’
‘It was Amanda from next door who called me. I was in Chesterfield making a delivery. I’ve got an app on my phone that will confirm it.’
Quick with an alibi. ‘Thank you. I hope you didn’t mind me asking.’
‘No.’
‘Where did your wife go this morning?’
‘I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me.’ Again, he replied too quickly for Matilda’s liking.
‘Ok. Is Keeley the type of person to go off with a stranger?’
It was a while before Craig answered. ‘I’d like to think not. We’ve told her about the danger of talking to strangers, but, some of these sick bastards are very manipulative, aren’t they?’
‘I’m afraid so. Are your daughters on any social networking sites?’
‘Isn’t everyone? Jodie’s on the lot, I think. Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, Snapchat. I keep telling her, it’s called social media, which means you have to be social and not spend the evenings staring at your tablet.’
Matilda smiled. ‘And what about Keeley?’
‘She’s on Snapchat. Our Jodie got her interested in it. She keeps taking selfies and putting dog ears on them or something. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’
‘Me neither,’ Sian butted in. ‘I’ve got four kids and they’ve all tried to get me on Instagram and Twitter. I can’t think of anything worse.’
‘Have they mentioned being contacted by anyone they didn’t know?’ Matilda asked Craig.
‘Everyone’s a stranger on social media. I’ve told the girls time and time again that they don’t know who they’re talking to. Their profile picture might be that of a fourteen-year-old girl, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a fifty-year-old pervert typing the messages. Wait, you don’t think Keeley’s been contacted through these sites?’
‘At this stage, I’ve no idea. We will need to look at all their activity online.’ Matilda leaned forward. ‘Craig, I know I’m probably the last person you and your wife want to look for your daughter after the Carl Meagan investigation. However, I am very good at my job and I have an exceptional team of officers around me. We will do everything in our power to find Keeley and bring her home.’
Craig nodded and offered a weak smile. ‘Thank you.’
Matilda paused as she studied Craig. His face was a map of angst and worry, and he seemed genuinely distraught at not knowing where his daughter was, but there was something niggling away at Matilda’s brain telling her there was something odd in this household. When Carl went missing, there was no doubt in her mind he’d been kidnapped and the request for a ransom was genuine. Here, she couldn’t quite work out what was going on. Not yet, anyway.
‘We’ll need to look at any laptops, computers, tablets and phones that belong to you all.’
‘Of course. Take anything you think will help.’
‘Thank you. Would it be possible to look around Keeley’s bedroom before we go?’
‘Sure. Listen, can I ask you a personal question?’ Craig asked.
Matilda knew what was coming. She took a deep breath. ‘Of course.’
‘Why didn’t you find Carl Meagan?’
***
Matilda led the way with Sian following. As they reached the first floor landing, they could hear muffled sobbing coming from one of the bedrooms, obviously Linda. The atmosphere in the house was heavy and was getting darker as each minute ticked by without them knowing where Keeley was.
Keeley’s bedroom door was wide open. The carpet was a plush pink and the walls – what could be seen behind the posters of Disney films – were painted a warm pink. This was the bedroom of a typical nine-year-old girl. The single duvet cover was from Frozen, showing a beautiful princess and a smiling snowman. There were fairy lights around the headboard, soft toys on the bed, and Disney books on the shelves. Beneath the window was a desk. Her pink tablet was plugged in and charging.
‘I thought you answered Craig’s questions very well,’ Sian said quietly. ‘It couldn’t have been easy for you.’
‘It wasn’t. I thought he deserved the truth. I’m sure his eyes glazed over once I started waffling.’
‘Mat,’ she said, putting her hand on her arm. ‘Are you going to be ok leading this investigation? I mean, it’s going to bring back memories of Carl, but it’ll bring back memories of James, too.’
‘It already is. I like to think I’m a stronger person than I was three years ago. However, if I find myself not coping, I’ll step down. I promise you.’
Matilda had no intention of stepping down and handing over the case to a lesser detective. In the years since Carl disappeared she’d studied kidnapping cases and read dozens of psychological reports on kidnappers and their motives. If anyone understood why someone stole a child, it was Matilda. It was time to put what she’d read to good use.
It wasn’t a large bedroom and due to the amount of stuff Keeley had, it was cluttered, but it was clean and tidy.
In the top drawer of the desk, Sian took out a sketch pad and began to flick through it.
‘Wow, she’s good,’ she said. ‘Her attention to detail is amazing for a girl so young. Look at these dresses.’
Matilda joined her at the desk. She looked over her shoulder at the drawings which looked more like something a fashion designer would create rather than a nine-year-old girl.
In the same drawer were packs of coloured pencils, all different shades and grades. She had all the tools needed to sketch her fashions. Matilda pictured her spending hours at this desk, looking out at the sprawling countryside from her window as Sheffield dissolved into Derbyshire, gaining inspiration for her designs.
‘She writes stories too. Listen to this: “Princess Keeley was locked in the tower. She spent her days sewing the gowns for her sisters to wear and plaiting their hair. She was sad and lonely and only ate what little food her nasty sisters gave to her through the small gap under the door. At night she looked out of the window. If the moon was full, it lit up the whole kingdom and she could see the big boats on the sea. She often fell asleep leaning against the windowsill as she waited for her prince to rescue her.” Oh dear,’ Sian said.
‘That’s very sad,’
‘Do you think that’s how she feels?’
‘It certainly sounds like it. Are there more like that?’
Sian flicked through the pages. ‘There are a few other stories. I’ll read them back at the station. These drawings are a bit worrying, though.’
‘In what way?’
‘They’re a bit … what’s the word … mature,’ Sian said. ‘Look at this one.’ The picture was of a dress; nobody was wearing it, but it was very low cut, the breasts were full and the split up the side was very revealing.
Matilda took the pad from her and studied the pictures. ‘A nine-year-old really shouldn’t be drawing clothes that reveal so much flesh. I mean, who is she designing these for? Is she picturing herself as having huge breasts?’
‘I’m not sure. Mind you, have you seen some of those Disney films? The animators certainly pay a lot of attention to putting the curves in all the right places,’ Sian said. ‘She’s probably only drawing what she’s watching on TV.’
‘She shouldn’t be sexualising herself at this age.’
‘Unless someone was telling her to.’
They both looked at the tablet in the centre of the desk.
***
Craig was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Craig, does only Keeley have access to this tablet?’ Matilda asked in the hallway downstairs. She held up the tablet.
‘Yes. Well, it’s hers. We keep an eye on her while she’s using it.’
‘Does she use any other device in the house?’
‘No.’
‘We’re going to take this with us to go through, analyse social media, see who she was talking to. We’re also taking her story book too. She may have written something that could be useful. Sian’s writing you out a receipt.’
He nodded, biting his lower lip.
‘What do we do if the kidnapper calls before the twenty-four hours?’
‘He won’t, but we’re setting up a tap on your phone line. If there is anything you think of that might help in finding Keeley, please mention it to Ellen.’
‘Thank you,’ he said. He held out his hand for Matilda to shake.
She looked down at the large hand and placed hers inside his. His large fingers wrapped tightly around hers.
‘I know you’ll find her,’ he said, looking at her with wet eyes.
Matilda couldn’t reply. She nodded, removed her hand and headed for the hallway. She pulled open the front door and almost fell out. She inhaled deep breaths and slowly breathed out. It had been years since she’d had a panic attack. Try as she might, she couldn’t get Carl Meagan and everything she went through three years ago out of her mind. She didn’t want to return to those dark days.