The Taken Girls: An absolutely gripping crime thriller full of mystery and suspense

‘Eddie!’ Irritation had turned to exasperation.

Ed had no second thoughts.

‘Goodbye, Don.’

There was a pause. The tone of his voice changed. ‘I’m sorry.’

Ed knew this was not contrition for the way he had behaved but perhaps it was genuine sorrow that he was losing her. Maybe his new model was falling short of the old. She smiled at the unvoiced compliment but he was too late. Her mind was made up.

‘I’m sorry too.’ Ed was sorry for many things. It had been a mistake to start the affair in the first place but she needed a man in her life and in that sense it had been good while it lasted. Would smart hotels always remind her of that? Something cool … She closed her eyes to block her view of the room.

‘Can’t we …?’

‘No.’

‘Eddie …?’

‘You’ve got to go.’

‘You’ve got to go? What’s the rush?’

‘No, Don, you’ve got to go. It’s over.’

‘No chance …?’

With her decision made and the message delivered, Ed was rapidly losing interest in the conversation.

‘None.’

‘So that’s it?’

‘That’s it, Don.’

She was about to end the call but before she could speak he became decisive.

‘Okay, but don’t forget—’

‘Forget what?’

‘The phone’s mine.’

‘What do you want to do – recycle it?’

As if on cue Ed’s work mobile rang.

‘Work calls. Goodbye, Don.’

She thumbed off the personal phone, tossed it across the room and reached for her work mobile. It could only be someone from the Canterbury force. Stay cool, play it by the book.

‘DS Ogborne.’

‘Hi, Ed. It’s Brian … DI Saunders. I’m in the hotel bar and thought you might like to join me for a nightcap.’

Something cool … not again. She hadn’t come to Canterbury to jump straight into bed with another colleague. Ed hadn’t given much thought to DI Saunders but her first impression had been of a good cop and a family man. There was every sign that they would have been able to work well together. It was unfortunate that her arrival had resulted in him being pushed out to Maidstone. Surely he wasn’t hitting on her already? If so, she’d have to let him down gently. He wasn’t her type. Even if she’d been up for it there was no way she’d have been tempted.

‘Give me five minutes.’

15

Four and a half minutes later Ed walked into the hotel bar. DI Saunders was at a corner table, his glass already empty. Seeing her approach he started to his feet.

‘What’ll you have?’ he asked.

The barman was already coming to the table.

‘You’re empty. I’ll get them. What’s yours?’

‘Single malt, Bowmore. Thanks.’ Saunders sank back into his chair.

Ed turned to the barman. ‘Good evening, Gino. A double Bowmore, and a vodka tonic for me, please. Charge it to my room.’

‘Certainly, Ms Ogborne.’

‘You seem to have settled in well.’

‘It was easier here than at the Station.’

‘I guess so.’ Saunders looked shamefaced. ‘Actually, that’s one of the reasons I’m here.’

Ed relaxed. For the moment at least his late-night visit was work-related. Their drinks arrived and she raised her glass.

‘Cheers.’

Saunders acknowledged her toast and they sat in silence, sipping their drinks.

‘So, what did you want to say about work?’

‘Let’s leave that for a moment. First I want to give you the full story behind tonight’s incident in the pub.’

‘I assumed there was previous.’

‘Fynn McNally is the local big fish in a small pond. He’s behind most of the villainy that goes on round here. If he’s not behind it he expects a slice.’

‘What’s going on between McNally and DS Potts?’

‘It goes back to childhood.’ Saunders took a sip of whisky. ‘They were at school together. McNally’s always been a bully. Mike got some of it when he was a boy. Their lives went different ways and then collided when Mike became a copper. He wasn’t vindictive but he was always out to get McNally for his crimes. The trouble is, McNally’s a wily bastard; he’s smart and he knows it.’

‘I don’t see how that accounts for this evening’s outburst.’

‘There’s more. Three years ago Mike’s younger daughter, Susanne, was killed in a hit and run. The word is that McNally was responsible but we can’t prove it. He got to witnesses and made sure they’ll not talk. He knows he’s safe and the arrogant bastard enjoys rubbing it in.’

‘But attempted assault with a knife, surely he’ll go down for that?’

‘That was out of character, a big mistake. It was a crazy stunt to pull with all of us as witnesses. Of course, his friends will testify that DS Potts made the first threatening gestures and it’ll be their word against ours. He’ll not be inside for long.’

‘Thanks for telling me.’ Ed toyed with her glass for a moment and then asked, ‘Has Mike got other children?’

‘An older daughter and a son, both at university. He and his wife took Susanne’s death hard. Reminders from the likes of McNally don’t help. I’m sure Mike’s over the initial hurt but he’s collapsed in on himself. The drive he once had has gone. I think he’d like to put the loss of his daughter behind him but something’s preventing that. He’s always ready to go for a drink after work. I wonder if things aren’t too good at home.’

After the DI’s behaviour at the team meeting that morning, Ed was surprised Saunders was now treating her like a trusted colleague. She nodded sympathetically and thought she’d use the moment.

‘And the DCs, Jenny and Nat, what can you tell me about them?’

‘Neither has been with us long but both come with baggage.’

‘Don’t we all?’

Ed received the briefest look from Saunders as if her throwaway comment held particular significance but he quickly continued.

‘Despite their youth, I don’t think either’s had the easiest of times.’

‘How so?’

‘Nat played football, had a trial with Gillingham FC. He won a development contract but was let go at the end of the year. By all accounts he took it badly, gave up football and joined the Force.’

‘And Jenny?’

‘Ah, you’ve noticed. It’s clear he fancies her but, on that score, she’s more difficult to read.’

‘I meant her background?’

‘Right … something’s not gone well in her life. I don’t know the details but I gather it’s personal. Since joining the Force, she’s making good progress.’ He paused as if going to expand but appeared to change his mind and concluded, ‘Both are shaping up to be good officers.’

Ed took a couple of sips of her drink and waited for Saunders to continue. He filled the pause with a mouthful of malt before leaning towards her without touching the table.

Alarm bells rang and Ed became wary but Brian’s next words were not what she expected.

‘I’m sorry you had such a cold reception.’

‘It was to be expected given the nature of my arrival. I’m sorry you’ve been transferred to Maidstone. I was unaware, knew nothing ’til I got here.’

‘If you’re feeling bad, don’t. I’m the one who should apologize.’

‘You? Apologize?’ Ed was genuinely puzzled. ‘What on earth for?’

‘I’m not sorry to be moving. I should’ve made that clear to my colleagues. I’ve known them for years. Couldn’t bring myself to make them think I was pleased to get out.’

‘Why d’you want to go? You’re settled here.’

Saunders took another sip of malt. ‘Nobody else knows but you deserve to. You’ll keep it quiet?’

Ed nodded.

‘I may be settled in the job but I want out. Your transfer to Canterbury was my ticket. The Force is not good for relationships. Many marriages don’t survive. Mine’s one. Ellen, my wife, resented the time I spent at work. A year after our youngest went to university she asked for a divorce. I hadn’t noticed anything, but she’d been seeing someone for months. I can’t wait to get away.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Aye, it’s a bit late for me to be starting over. Maidstone’s more of a desk job. Who knows, maybe I’ll meet someone new in the office.’

‘What about your children?’

‘They’ve moved out. We haven’t told them yet. I’m sure I’ll continue to see them.’

Saunders finished his drink and stood up.

‘That’s enough melancholy for one night.’

Ed left her drink unfinished and went with him to the street.

Watching her colleague walk towards Westgate Towers, Ed’s thoughts turned to the missing girl. When on a case, the victim barely left her head and some memories remained long after the case was closed. To break her train of thought, Ed turned back into the hotel. Her immediate priority was to get settled in Canterbury. She needed somewhere to live and tomorrow she’d make a start with the viewings. Before that she had something else in mind.

Walking through the hotel lobby, Ed went to retrieve her unfinished drink. When standing to accompany Saunders to the street, she’d recognized somebody sitting at the bar. Drink in hand, she slipped onto the adjacent barstool.

‘Do you mind if I take one of your cheese straws? Gino seems to have forgotten mine.’

Verity Shaw turned with her habitual half-smile and nudged the bowl towards Ed.

‘I was hoping you’d come back to finish your vodka tonic.’

And I was hoping you’d still be here, thought Ed. She took a cheese straw but remained silent.

With a look of candour, Verity caught her eye. ‘I lied last time we met.’ She paused, holding Ed’s gaze. ‘Sometimes I come here for a nightcap. Will you join me?’

‘I’m not sure I should have another vodka.’

‘Me neither,’ said Verity whose drink looked identical to Ed’s. ‘Let’s celebrate your new job with something less alcoholic. Two glasses of champagne and then we’ll call it a night?’

‘Sounds good to me.’

Ed made to signal the barman but Verity stayed her hand.

‘My treat.’

Ed allowed herself to be treated and the events of the day receded. They talked easily and it crossed Ed’s mind that she’d never had a female friend before, someone with whom she could relax. The two glasses of champagne became two glasses each before they called it a night.

Standing on the pavement outside the hotel, Verity said, ‘Now you’ve settled in, give me a call should you fancy a break from the Station. We could meet at Deakin’s for a coffee.’

‘Thanks, I’d like that.’

The half-smile returned to Verity’s face. Ed raised a hand in farewell and watched her new friend walk into the night.

16

Lucy hugged herself for warmth and companionship. She’d been woken by foxes. Their high-pitched shrieks, like a distressed child, were disturbing when she was in her own bed. Here, alone without light in an isolated building, the noises were terrifying. The cold shiver, which was no more than a brief sensation at home, persisted and grew until her body shook uncontrollably.

She’d tried not to think about it, to bar it from her mind, but Lucy knew from many news reports that girls reported missing were usually found dead. She’d been taken from the street, she was missing and she was completely at her kidnapper’s mercy. Much though she wanted to believe his assurances that he would set her free, deep down she couldn’t escape the thought that she would die. Whatever he had taken her for, eventually he would kill her. She struggled to overcome the feeling of utter helplessness. Only by staying alert would she have any chance of ensuring her survival.

As light began seeping through the high windows, Lucy used the pail and washed. When he arrived she was listening to music but she heard him knock and call out because his warning coincided with the end of a track. The sound of the outer door was followed by a brief silence before he came into sight and the strange voice asked how she was feeling.

‘I want to go home. You say you’re in control, so why won’t you let me go?’

‘That’s my business. You’ll stay until I’m ready to let you go but, remember, you’ve nothing to worry about. I’ve promised to release you and I keep my promises.’

He approached the wire partition.

‘Come here and put your wrist close to the slot so that I can unlock the handcuff.’

Lucy did as she was told.

‘There … that should feel better. Get some exercise while I make breakfast. Before we eat I’ll want you to put the handcuff back on and stand here by the slot so that I can lock it.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘That wouldn’t be wise. You’ll have no breakfast and nothing to eat or drink until the handcuff’s back on.’

After they’d eaten, he was in no hurry so he left Lucy on the bed listening to music and went to his private room. Inside there was a slight smell of preservative. He felt comfortable here. All was ordered, everything in its place. He let his eyes wander over the gleaming bottles and jars. This collection was more important than the one he’d had when he was a boy. Things were different then. His thoughts drifted back to when he was a child, a time he remembered clearly, a time he would never allow himself to forget.

In his mind he sees the room, or rather he doesn’t see the room. He’s in the room but he can’t see it because it’s dark. The curtains are drawn and it’s so black that if he held his hand in front of his eyes he wouldn’t see it. But he doesn’t do that. It’s cold. In the morning his breath will have frozen on the window pane. He keeps his hand under the scratchy blanket, breathing the cold air in through his nose and out through his mouth into the bed. The warmth never reaches his feet but the rhythmic breathing and self-induced shivering distract from the cold. He’s not afraid. Unlike some children he has no fear of being alone, no fear of the dark. Nothing bad can happen. It’s happened already. When he cried and was comforted, the smell was different and the arms that held him were thinner than before.

Sometimes he was woken during the night by sounds, animal sounds. Later he realized those sounds came from their mother’s room. He never thought of her as his mother, always their mother; it spread the pain. The sounds came every evening a man was there. It was always a man. Not always the same man, but always a man and always loud. Telling their mother she was good enough to eat. She would laugh and turn to the mirror for a final touch of lipstick. She didn’t seem to notice that whenever she turned away the man’s eyes were all over her daughter.

Often, especially when it was a new man, their mother would notice a last-minute crease in her blouse and ask Reena to get the ironing board. If her daughter were slow to move she would be urged by a commanding ‘Doreena!’ Even then, he knew his sister hated her full name. With the board in place but the iron barely warm, their mother would take off her blouse and give it a quick pass. Facing the man, she would slowly re-button the blouse, turn to the mirror and say, ‘There, that’s better.’ The inevitable reply, ‘I liked you better without it’, would be countered with a ‘Not in front of the children’ softened by a satisfied smile.

Reena was big for her age. By the time she was 11, whenever there was a man around, she’d taken to doing a bit of ironing of her own. He wanted none of it. As soon as he heard the doorknocker he went to his bedroom. The voices continued until he heard the front door shut behind their mother and her latest man. Sometimes, as a parting shot, Reena was encouraged to be a good girl but their mother never came to wish him goodnight. The next morning she would appear bleary-eyed and tell him to go play in his room. He’d hear voices and then the front door would close.

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.