Chasing Innocence (7 page)

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Authors: John Potter

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BOOK: Chasing Innocence
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She began searching for somewhere to pull over and wait, spending nervous seconds expecting lights to appear from behind. Seconds that seemed like minutes. The trees eventually gave way to angular silhouettes and a number of large outbuildings set back on a rise, a farm, she thought. She reversed up the rough track as far into the farm as she dared, stopping beside the first outbuilding and turning off the engine. The dark immediately encroached and Sarah realised a need of her own, quickly climbing out and around to the back. She pulled down her jeans and managed to balance with her fingertips on the dusty boot, alone with the creaking trees and the breeze rustling dry leaves. The cold busily foraged over her bare skin, up beneath her shirt and set goosebumps across her stomach. Her eyes never moved from the road. She hoisted her jeans when she was done and climbed back into the car.

To her left was a corrugated barn that blocked her view of the Rover’s approach, hiding her car by the same measure. She would not see the Rover until it disappeared into an alley of trees to her right. She slid down into the seat, listening to the tick of the cooling engine. Time slowed. Two cars passed. She realised as her fingers reached for the ignition that neither were the Rover. Five minutes turned to ten. The heat slowly seeped away into the night and the cold reached in. She deliberated the consequences of turning back to check what he was doing.

From her right something hard crashed against the door, rocking the car and clawing at the window. Screaming, she jumped violently, almost fully into the passenger seat. Instinctively but fearfully she looked back and saw a golden face with large black eyes, hot breath steaming the window and a pink lolling tongue. The golden retriever was immediately joined by a twin face, pawing the glass together, then the wrinkled inquisitive gaze of a woman appeared.

Sarah extracted herself from the handbrake, feeling dizzy from the rush, her heart thumping. She lowered the window by a fraction.

‘Are you all right in there dear? Sorry to startle you.’ The woman peered through the gap as the dogs tried to pull themselves through it. The woman pushed them away and clapped her hands, and they both raced back into the farmyard. Sarah lowered the window, the cold air welcome on her flushed cheeks. She stared wide-eyed at the woman. The low light was not doing the woman’s features any justice. She looked no more than sixty, with short blonde hair and a kind, creased face, wearing a long ribbed cardigan.

‘I’m really sorry, I felt tired and this looked like a safe place to park for a few minutes. I hope you don’t mind?’

The woman’s eyes were piercing blue diamonds. ‘Mind! I wish just half the scallywags was a’pleasant, my love. Why don’t you come in for a cuppa? You look like you could do with a drink.’

The invitation seemed unimaginably appealing. ‘That’s so considerate,’ Sarah answered, one eye on the road. ‘But I don’t have much time. I thought I would just stop here and close my eyes for a few seconds?’

‘Not a problem at all m’love. You hunker down there as long as you like. Where you headed?’

Sarah had no idea. She had a vague notion they were driving north but she had long since lost sight of distance and direction. She offered Birmingham as a hopeful answer.

This earned her a puzzled look. ‘Birmingham you say? You’re certainly taking the scenic route! Do you know where you are?’

Sarah shook her head.

‘Well if you head left out of here, if I recall that’s where you came from, you go through Stratford. Right will take you to Warwick. Was you heading for the M40? There’s no junction near here, you know.’

‘I really am out of the way, aren’t I?’ She tried to sound flippant and think of a plausible explanation. ‘I have to admit I was a little lost. There don’t seem to be any signs here?’

The woman laughed, a musical sound. ‘Well of course not, this is the country my dear. They all got ripped up when Hitler did his thing, s’pose nobody bothered putting them all back. You keep on this road and you’ll end up in Coventry though. My advice is keep eyes out for the M40. You’ll see signs when you get to Warwick, it’ll double you back but you’ll get there. Got some way to go though.’

‘That’s so kind, I appreciate that.’

‘Is no problem.’ She looked into the empty spaces of the car and then back to Sarah. ‘I’m surprised such a pretty thing doesn’t have some man in tow. Need them to do all the worrying you know.’

‘Well, I have, but he’s at home and I lost my phone.’

‘Oh you poor love, no wonder you look at your wits end.’ She delved into a pocket. ‘Why don’t you give that boy a ring. Arthur makes me take this when I walk the dogs.’ She held out her hand. Sarah had to blink several times. A mobile phone. She could not have been more surprised if large luminous wings had suddenly unfurled from the woman’s back.

‘You don’t know how much this means.’

She took the phone and the woman smiled wide and knowing. ‘Oh I think I do, don’t you worry. Talk as long as you like, I get all kinds of free minutes. I need it back mind, just leave it on that gate there.’ Sarah followed the woman’s gaze to a gatepost across the track. ‘I’m away now to run a little heat from those dogs.’

With that she whistled and the two dogs came hurtling past. ‘You take care now.’ She followed the dogs down towards the road.

Sarah held the phone in her hand as if it were a bar of gold. It was similar to one she had owned several years ago, weighty and thick, the sort that only did texts and calls. She pressed keys and the screen blinked on, throwing a glow across her face. She watched the dogs dart across the road and disappear through a gap in the trees, the woman following behind. And then Sarah let out a groan of despair – she could not remember Adam’s number. She was so used to her phone’s address book, only half his numbers appeared jumbled in her mind’s eye. Her fingers hovered over the keys. Their home number she recalled with instant clarity. As much as she desperately tried, Adam’s number would not come.

With this lifeline, not being able to hear Adam’s voice felt like a gift snatched away. Feeling heavy with frustration she reluctantly called home, hoping he might be there. The line connected and the answering service clicked on. She tripped over where to start and then began to talk.

FIFTEEN

 

Adam peeked through the blinds at a constable busy alternating glances between a keyboard and screen. It had been thirty minutes and there was still no sign of anyone. And still nothing from Sarah. He moved back to the table, trying not to imagine the worst.

Outside he heard a male voice, then seconds later the door swung open, the blinds and posters waving in unison. A dark-suited man leaned in, resting his hand on the door handle.

‘Mr Sawacki?’

‘Yes?’

The man nodded and stepped in, pulling out a chair. As he did a woman followed, closing the door and placing a notepad on the table. She sat next to the man, their movements separate but synchronised. Adam lifted his chair back a pace and the man rested his forearms on the table, the buttons on his jacket sleeves clicking against the veneered surface.

‘Some introductions.’ His open hand gestured towards the woman. ‘Detective Sergeant Helen Ferreira will be leading this interview.’ Warm brown eyes looked up on cue, her mouth widening to a friendly smile.

‘And I am Detective Inspector Francis Boer. I will ask questions if need be, probably more at the end.’

Adam nodded and they both waited as Detective Ferreira organised papers. Then she looked across the table at him.

‘You believe your wife witnessed a child being abducted. Is that correct?’

‘Well, not exactly witnessed. She is sure a child was kidnapped.’

Ferreira’s pen tapped her notepad, then her attention back at him. ‘Ideally we would like to speak with your wife. When was the last time you spoke with her?’

‘We talked while she was at Delamere. She was meant to ring when she got back to her car.’

‘Your wife was at Delamere?’

‘She followed the Rover there.’

Detective Boer gave his partner a sideways glance. She took the prompt. ‘Why don’t you rewind to the beginning?’

Adam was in the process of thinking where the beginning was when it dawned on him. ‘I could play you the messages Sarah left me, her voicemails, if you wanted?’

Ferreira nodded and watched him lay the phone on the table, listening to his messaging service and then a brief silence. Then Sarah’s voice and the waterfall effect filled the room. A voice from a life that felt increasingly distant to Adam. Ferreira asked him to play the messages four times in total, her pen skipping across the page. Adam’s attention shifted from the table to his interviewers.

Detective Boer’s eyes were dark and sharp, set in a deeply lined face. He looked to be in his early sixties. A moustache stretched the entire width of his mouth, curving down each side. Like his hair it was thickly dark with a mix of grey. He was wearing a once-smart suit, now creased as if it had not seen a hanger in days.

In contrast Detective Ferreira looked mid-twenties, stylish but understated in a dark blouse and olive suit, her tiredness evident around her eyes, darker and at odds with the latte colour of her skin. Her dark hair was centre-parted and tied back in a thick ponytail. The phone fell silent. He reached over and disconnected the call, seeing something of Sarah’s dilemma reflected in both their faces.

‘Thank you.’ Boer placed his fingertips on the table. ‘You talked while she was at Delamere?’

‘Yes, but she hasn’t rung since. She was watching the driver in the services.’

Boer slowly hoisted himself to his feet using Ferreira’s shoulder as leverage, looking down at the notepad and back at Adam. ‘Did you confirm the rest of the number plate?’

‘No, that was one of the things she was going to call about.’

‘And your wife’s vehicle details are correct?’ He slid the yellow sheet into the middle of the table and turned it around.

Adam checked and nodded.

Boer looked from Adam to Ferreira. ‘I’ll get a car over there.’

The blinds and posters saluted as Boer left the room. Ferreira smiled across the table. ‘If you don’t mind, Adam, I would like you to tell me about your day. What you were both doing, where you were doing it. Your wife’s state of mind?’

Adam fidgeted. ‘Well, it’s, well we…’

She stopped him. ‘This is a witness statement Adam, so relax. If you were a suspect we would be in a different room, and I might not be so nice.’ She smiled again. ‘Now tell me what comes to mind. Start with realising your wife was missing and work from there.’

So Adam did, beginning with his arriving opposite the alley, his search and going back to their apartment, skipping the detail of the calls they already listened to. He told her of talking to Sarah at Delamere and everything he could recall of their conversation, to his sitting in that room.

Ferreira caught up with her notes and looked at him. ‘Why were you separated?’

The word
separated
jarred. ‘Sorry?’

‘Why were you not together when Sarah disappeared?’

Adam’s pupils flared and his hands moved restlessly in his lap. He looked to his right and back at her.

‘Sarah had a few things to get, she left me in the restaurant. We had a meal you see, just before.’ He felt as if Ferreira’s eyes were burrowing into him, reaching inside.

‘Would you say Sarah was emotional when she left you?’

‘Upset? I find women often are.’

Which earned him a raised eyebrow and a broad smile. ‘I would say you might be right.’ She let the silence play, rocking her pen between index finger and thumb.

‘It’s complicated.’ Adam said, trying to avoid this shifting around to Sarah’s state of mind.

‘Complicated? So Sarah might have been emotional when she saw the girl abducted?’

This got a snapped reply, as it was meant to. ‘Look detective, yes, Sarah was emotional. Do I think it would impact her judgement, of course. But only to heighten her awareness. If she thought something happened then it did, I can’t say much more than that.’

She leaned back and looked at him apologetically, and suddenly two truths dawned for Adam. There was a missing girl and Sarah was a suspect.

‘There’s a girl missing isn’t there?’

Her gaze met his. ‘We don’t do anything without purpose Adam.’

Which he took to mean yes. ‘Sarah would never harm a child. Trust me on that front.’

Ferreira centred the notepad in front of her, deciding to wait on Boer’s return before pushing any further. ‘Let us step back through the detail we have. Once we’re sure I will fill out the statement. I suspect Detective Inspector Boer will want a few words when he gets back.’

Adam leaned forward, elbows on the table, waiting for the first question. The process took another thirty minutes, in which she cross-examined every detail. At one point Detective Boer came back into the room. He placed a folder on the desk and wordlessly listened.

SIXTEEN

 

Adam read through the statement and signed, flipped the form and skimmed through the personal detail. He signed again then slid it back across the table.

‘We done, sir?’ Ferreira asked, knowing they were far from done.

‘A few questions, Helen.’ Boer pulled across the statement.

Adam had been preparing to stand. He slumped back into his seat, watching Boer’s mouth move beneath the moustache as he silently read through the detail.
Who still had moustaches like that
?

When Boer finished he handed Ferreira the statement and set his hands flat on the folder on the desk. Looking directly at Adam, his eyes gleamed bright like something new was illuminating them.

‘Sawacki, now that’s a name you don’t hear often.’

‘I wouldn’t have thought so, Detective. It’s Polish, my great-grandfather came here during the war.’

Boer nodded acknowledgement. ‘Sarah Sawacki has a ring to it. Don’t you think?’

Adam’s heart beat a little faster.

Boer continued, ‘That name’s been bouncing around my head since I saw that report sheet. I got to thinking, I know that name. So I got the constable out there to tap it into the computer. Amazing things, hooked into all sorts. About ten seconds and your wife appeared on the screen.’

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