Chasing Innocence (18 page)

He shook his head, a slow dramatic movement. ‘Then I am sorry for you Sarah. This will not happen. The child is going away to live another life. One where she will be cared for and looked after. She will be the focus of attention and much regarded. She will have a better life than she has now, and we know a lot about the life she has left behind.’

Her sense of futility and his talk of Andrea’s wonderful future built an anger inside her despite her best efforts to close it off. A hatred for this man that she fell short of expressing. ‘You’re a sick man.’

He smiled as if receiving a compliment. ‘Quite possibly. Now tell me, Sarah, why did you follow Simon? What did you see, Sarah?’

Despite her anger, her desire not to be hit again and the relevance of the information moulded her answer.

‘I didn’t see anything. I followed him on a hunch. The girl disappeared into the alley. I went into the alley and saw
him
.’ She nodded at the double doors. As she did Simon reappeared, holding a damp towel to the side of his head. His eyes dropped to the small splatter of blood at her feet. He looked at her and Hakan and then with the corner of his mouth upturned he kneeled, using the towel to clean the carpet.

Hakan waited until Simon had finished before he spoke again. ‘So, Sarah?’

‘So I followed him.’

‘That is it?’

‘The box he carried was wrong. It just looked wrong. It was too heavy for what should have been inside.’

‘And do you follow any suspicious persons?’

‘No, not any person.’ She paused, realising her thirst. She looked across at Simon, now leaning against the door frame, and then to Hakan. ‘Can I have some water? I don’t feel well.’

‘I am not surprised. I think we can manage some water in return for cooperation.’ He nodded and Simon returned with a full glass, patiently holding it to her lips as he tipped it slowly into her mouth. She gulped it down, some of it escaping down the corners of her mouth, running down her neck onto her shirt. It tasted like nectar. When the glass was empty Simon stepped back and sat on the arm of the sofa.

Hakan continued. ‘Now we shall proceed. You followed because you had no better explanation for where the girl could be. And you did not see our friend here until you saw him with the box.’

‘Yes.’

‘Good, Sarah. Hambury has many car parks. Why was your car parked in this one?’

‘We always park there. It’s why I was waiting at the end of the alley.’

‘You then followed my friend to the services. Who did you ring, Sarah, who did you call on your way to this services and what did you tell them?’

She hesitated for a second, weighing again the value of the information over its cost to her.

‘I rang my husband, of course, I told him the Rover’s number plate.’

Hakan smiled. ‘Of course you did, Sarah, and what was he to do with it?’

She answered honestly. ‘Go to the police.’

‘And did he?’

‘I sincerely hope so.’

‘You do not know?’

‘No, I lost my phone.’

‘Ahhh yes, the missing phone. How fortunate we have an eyewitness in this very room. Can you tell me, Sarah, why your husband would be off reporting number plates to the police and not jumping in his car to rescue or even stop you?’

‘He doesn’t own one.’

‘He does not have a car? You do not strike me as a woman who attracts a poor man, it is impossible to think he would not have a car.’

‘He just doesn’t, he catches the train or works at home.’

‘Works at home?’ He turned to Simon, adding drama to incredulous, and back again to Sarah. ‘What a comfortable cosy little country this is. What a lucky man.’

‘He is, but then he is a good man. People trust him.’

‘Any man deserving of your trust must be good, he must also be a man who makes good money. These men all have nice cars, in this country for sure.’

‘He used to have a car, he sold it.’

‘Did he now. Sold it to give you the home you wanted. The loyal man. Do you find, Sarah, that men do as you ask? Do you expect us to fall for your wide eyes?’ He shuffled to the sofa edge and planted his foot on the floor. ‘Do you think you can be the woman and turn our minds?’

She was confused, unsure what he was getting at. Then she saw the movement of his arm, bracing herself for the blow. This time there was real venom in the strike, rocking the chair precariously back on its rear legs. Spotted white filled her vision, blotting out the colour and then everything went black.

When she opened eyes she was staring at her lap, blood dripping onto her thighs.

‘You understand, Sarah. I have no patience for a woman’s tricks and with Simon you are barking at the wrong tree. It is not women his eyes seek. So if you need something you will ask, the answer will be yes or no. We do not like the woman’s tricks here. Understand?’

She didn’t, not really. She moved her head up and down anyway, small careful movements while staring at her lap, tears diluting the splotches of blood on her jeans.

‘Good.’ Hakan did not return to the sofa. Instead he began pacing slow anti-clockwise circles around the chair.

‘So now we know your husband is the loyal man, off talking to the police. You know not what happened, he did not call to tell?’

‘No, I lost my phone.’

‘After the police, he would do what in your absence, knowing you have not called for so long?’

‘He, he would wait at home for me to call.’

‘You are sure of this?’

Sarah licked the blood from her bottom lip. ‘I’m certain.’

‘He would not play the hero and come looking for you?’

She shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t know how. He would do what he can for the police and wait.’

Hakan slapped his hands jubilantly against his thighs. It made her flinch.

‘Then it seems your husband must still be with the police. I hope he is entertaining them with his pleas of innocence.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, your husband is not at your home because my two most reliable colleagues have been there. They took a good look around your cosy place and the fine things you have there, especially the nice picture of you on the beach. But no sign of Mr. Sawacki. If we are to believe you there is only one other place this loyal husband can be.’

The thought of Hakan or anyone he knew in her home repulsed and angered her, then it dawned on her what Hakan was saying, that Adam must still be at the police station. It made her feel relieved that he was safe and out of the way.

‘So now, Sarah, that leaves us with the small matter of why you really followed my friend. Why were you really outside the alley? Why does a woman come so far on a hunch?’ Again Hakan paused for effect, enjoying his drama. ‘You must tell the truth Sarah, it is not just your own future you must now consider but your husband’s too. I can easily set my friends in search of him if you do not.’

THIRTY-THREE

The journey to Northampton brought Boer and Ferreira to a freshly built suburbia of three-storey houses, the wide drives and brown brickwork complementing bright painted fascia and double garage doors. Boer carefully sat himself on a low wall and watched Ferreira as she knocked and moved between neighbouring doors. Eventually a figure lingered in a doorway longer than it took to glance at a badge and shake their head. Ferreira asked questions Boer could not hear, but knew were focused around
Where are the family in number fifty-two?

Ferreira thanked the neighbour and walked back across the wide road, her olive jacket flapping open. She rested a hand on her hip as she stopped in front of Boer. ‘What’re you looking at?’

He gave her an embarrassed smile. ‘Something in my eye. What did they say?’

She kept her eyes on him for a second and then took a look at her notes. ‘They’re at church, they go every week.’

‘Really?’

‘Yep.’ Ferreira checked her watch. ‘Only the mother and kids though. The husband works away a lot, at least that’s what the neighbour seems to think. They should be back any time.’

Boer scraped his heel across the pavement. ‘I don’t get that.’

‘What don’t you get?’

‘You get two constables banging on your door Saturday night and you find out your daughter is missing. So the whole family decamp to church the next morning?’

She let her breath out slowly. ‘Faith is important at times like this Fran, you know that.’

Boer shook his head but said nothing, a large car pulling their attention to the road. Both watched hopefully as it approached, gleaming in the midday sun. They looked back at each other as it passed by.

‘What else did the neighbour say?’ he asked.

‘Not much. They keep to themselves, occasional conversation. A couple of the local girls sometimes babysit during the week. The mother sings in the church…’

The throaty throb of an engine chased along the street, drawing their attention to a dark shape turning into the road.

‘What the hell is that?’ Boer asked.

‘No idea, it’s big, some kind of truck.’

It drew closer and a window buzzed down. The female driver leaned over and called down, her voice competing against the engine. Boer looked at Ferreira. ‘What did she say?’

‘I think she wants us to move our car, we’re blocking her drive.’

They both looked at their car and then at the drive. Ferreira had left space enough for a lorry to reverse in. She pulled the keys from her handbag and raised an eyebrow at Boer.

He followed the truck into the drive, watching as the double garage door smoothly opened and the truck came to a stop centrally inside. Silence flooded the space and a woman jumped down. The word prim sprang to Boer’s mind. She deposited a young girl onto the garage floor and was about to reach back when another child leapt down onto the concrete, this one older, maybe seven or eight, with eyes only for Boer. She marched straight towards him, ignoring a half-shouted rebuke from her mother.

‘Hello, my name is Emma. I bet you’re a policeman. Have you found my sister yet? Mummy says Brian made her run away. Brian is my sister’s daddy but he’s not mine.’

‘Emma!’ The mother clamped a hand over the girl’s shoulder and flashed Boer a fraught smile. ‘I’m sorry, bold as can be.’ She stroked the child’s head. The smaller girl clung to her mother’s leg, shyly watching Boer while gnawing at a small toy.

He glanced across at the garage. ‘Hell of a truck you have there. Bet you get a lot of respect on the road.’

‘It’s not a truck, actually, it’s a Hummer. And yes, there are some amazingly bad drivers out there. My children’s safety is of the utmost importance to me.’ She gave the approaching Ferreira a studied look and then did the same for Boer. Her mouth did not entirely conceal her assessment. ‘And who might you be?’

He pushed a hand into his jacket and produced his ID, which she took from him.

‘I’m Detective Inspector Boer and my colleague here is Detective Sergeant Ferreira. We’re here to talk with Elizabeth Smith, would that be you?’

She studied the ID, flipping it over before handing it back. ‘Yes it would. If you’re here about my daughter then I have already spent a considerable amount of time talking with the police, last night and this morning.’ A thought suddenly occurred to her, she looked at him hopefully. ‘You have news?’

‘I’m afraid not. We’re hoping to get a first-hand understanding of your daughter. Anything we can learn about her habits. What she is like, her strengths, her state of mind. What she does when staying at her father’s, her friends there?’

The woman blew out her cheeks in a half laugh. ‘I take it you’ve spoken to her father?’

Boer shook his head. ‘We will talk to him later. It would be very helpful if we could get your perspective.’

‘That’s a shame. Andrea’s just like her father, almost as stubborn and just as wilful.’ Her eyes wandered to the windows of her immediate neighbours. ‘You’d better come inside.’ With that she flourished a hand at the garage and shepherded the two girls towards the house. Boer watched the garage door slowly descend and turned sideways, winking at Ferreira as they both followed the mother into the house.

THIRTY-FOUR

Simon shifted his weight on the arm on the sofa, watching Hakan pace around the chair, pulling and picking at the truth, his arms cutting small movements through the air. He was not sure Hakan’s intention had been to kill the woman but it looked that way now. After the next blow she would trip in and out of consciousness. If he hit her while she was unconscious the force would snap her neck.

Simon did not share Hakan’s ease with death. Not from any emotional or moral standpoint, but simply because he did not like killing. He didn’t have time for ghosts or gods, but each time he had killed it felt as if something fluttered free and became part of the burden he carried. He was in no hurry to do so again.

Now he was witnessing the woman’s last minutes. He should probably leave but could not. Was there a flicker of regret? There was something. She presented a challenge he had not known for a long time. There was something in her relentless desire to follow him that neither of them could comprehend. What had it taken for her to sit in the dark of that small room, to take her fear and mould it into a weapon? He had seen it in her eyes, she was not trying to knock him out with the stool, but erase him. That took a certain state of mind.

Hakan stopped and slapped a hand on his thigh, the woman flinched and Hakan reversed the direction of his pacing, increasing his speed, questioning her over and over. The woman’s eyes wide with anger and apprehension at the prospect of a sudden descending hand.

Neither of them believed she had seen anything, she could not have. Her opportunities were limited. His planning and attention to detail had been meticulous. Baldur had sourced the girl and had been ingenious in his methods. He’d given Simon the detail and there had been a lot of it. Taking the girl had been simple because of what he knew. Except now it was not.

At Delamere the pickpocket ran into him, what was he to do but give the woman back her bag? He had forgotten her before climbing into the Rover, oblivious throughout the journey. It had been difficult though not to take a look at Delamere, to not touch his prize. By Stratford the nagging need had turned to writhing want and he could not help himself. To feel her breath on his fingers and her beating heart beneath his hand, so beautiful. How was he to know the woman was parked in some farmyard making calls? How had she managed that, to find a phone in the middle of nowhere?