Gone (5 page)

‘Great,’ Freeman said. ‘I’ll check.’ She pulled her scarf out of her pocket and made a move to go. ‘If you think of anything else, could you give me a call?’ She got to the front door when Ray appeared in the doorway of the living room.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t help.’

‘You’ve been very helpful,’ she said. ‘Thanks.’ She opened the door and winced at the cold wind. At least it had stopped raining.

‘Maybe that boy could help,’ Ray said and Freeman turned around.

‘What boy?’ she asked.

‘He came this morning. He was a friend of Emma’s, he came to offer condolences. He was very nice.’

Freeman felt a jolt of excitement. Finally someone who might be able to offer some insight.

‘What was his name?’ she asked.

‘His name?’ Ray frowned again and Freeman felt a stab of guilt as she wished he’d answer faster. ‘Oh, I . . .’ Ray closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know if he said. I’m sure he must’ve but I don’t remember.’

‘What did he look like?’

Ray closed his eyes for a little too long. ‘He was a nice boy, well dressed. Dark hair, I think.’ He opened his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Freeman. I can’t remember.’

Freeman let out a sigh and smiled at Ray. ‘That’s okay,’ she said. ‘But if you remember or if he comes again, will you call me?’

Ray nodded and looked like the whole world was on his shoulders, like he’d let his daughter down. Freeman smiled again, hating herself for making him feel that way.

Chapter 7

13 December 2010

DCI Routledge leaned back in his chair and yawned. Freeman assumed she wasn’t boring him, but instead chose to believe he’d had a late night. And judging from the state of him, that wouldn’t be an unreasonable assumption. Apparently Christmas had started early for some.

‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘I spoke to DI Gardner in Middlesbrough—’

‘DI?’ Routledge said and pulled a face. Freeman wanted to ask what it was about this Gardner that got people’s backs up, but doubted Routledge would spill. He still had
some
professional discretion.

‘
Anyway
,’ she started again, ‘it was pretty much a waste of time. He couldn’t tell me anything that wasn’t in the reports. There’d only been two real people of interest at the time. One was a drug counsellor, Ben Swales, who apparently helped Emma and had acted as a go-between for Emma and her father the second time she went missing. Gardner interviewed him and ruled him out.’

‘Well, I suggest you speak to him yourself,’ Routledge said and Freeman thought,
no shit
.

‘The other was Lucas Yates – Emma’s ex-boyfriend and from what I read, a real charmer. Gardner spoke to Yates but nothing came of it and as far as I can tell, he was convinced the pair had run off together, despite what Ray Thorley thought.’

‘Which was?’

‘That she wouldn’t go anywhere near Yates. And I have to say I agree with her dad.’

‘Why? She disappeared with him the first time, didn’t she? She was a smackhead, wasn’t she?’

Freeman counted to five. She didn’t have time for ten. And she didn’t have time to stand there explaining things to Routledge. She hated the way half of her colleagues seemed to see addicts as second-class citizens. It seemed that no one gave a shit about Emma Thorley – then or now.

‘Despite Emma’s problems with drugs, she was never actually in trouble with the police. The only records we have are her missing person reports. Whereas Yates is a scumbag. He’s a known dealer. Been arrested dozens of times. Drugs, assault, burglary, sexual assault, stealing cars, driving without a licence, without insurance—’

‘I get it. He’s quite the Renaissance man.’

‘He finally went to prison in 2000, seven years. But there’s been nothing on him since he was released.’

‘Maybe he found Jesus,’ Routledge said.

‘Maybe,’ replied Freeman. ‘But either way I really want to speak to him.’

‘Fine. But as we don’t even know if it is this Thorley girl yet, just tread lightly.’

‘I always do,’ Freeman said and closed the door before he could respond.

Chapter 8

9 February 1999

Emma listened as Jenny and the others shouted at a couple of pensioners across the street. The woman kept her head down but the man shook his walking stick in their direction, telling them they should be ashamed of themselves. Emma turned her face away but it only egged the others on. All except Lucas. Lucas was quiet. Watching. Watching her. She could feel his eyes on her, heavy and possessive. It made her feel safe.

She hated the rest of them, hated that the only reason they seemed to have for getting up in the morning – or more likely, lunchtime – was to make other people’s lives hell. That was all they did. That and the drugs. She hadn’t tried anything yet, despite their taunts. Despite Lucas’s offers to make her feel good, to help her forget all the other shit. She’d been tempted but that was all. She had more willpower than to just give in to it.

She sometimes wondered what she was doing there, with them. The kind of people she would’ve crossed the street to avoid before. People she would’ve looked down on. But that was before. And was it really better to be sitting at home, watching her dad weep? Sitting in school, trying to ignore the pitying stares? Sitting alone in her room, wondering why her mam had left her alone.

‘Catch.’ Someone threw a can at Lucas. He opened it and took a swig before offering it to her. The sour smell of cheap, warm lager made her stomach turn. She shook her head and Lucas shrugged, downing the rest of the can before crushing it and throwing it over the wall they were leaning against.

Emma looked across the road and saw someone staring. Her face reddened as she realised it was Diane. She’d been ignoring her calls. Couldn’t bear to talk to her any more. She still had a mother, she didn’t understand.

‘What’s up?’ Lucas said, turning her to look at him.

‘Nothing,’ she said and looked into his eyes. Sometimes she couldn’t believe he’d chosen her. He could’ve had anyone but he wanted her. He made her feel special. If only the rest of them didn’t come as part of the package, she could be happy. If it were just the two of them she knew that she could be happy again.

‘Tell me,’ he said.

She shrugged and looked at the ground. ‘I’m just sick of it.’

‘Of what?’

‘All of it. My life. Dad’s so . . . One minute he’s treating me like a five-year-old, checking I’m okay every five minutes. And then he goes all distant as if I don’t exist any more. And I hate school. Everyone thinks they know how I feel but they don’t. None of them do. And I hate being in that house. It smells of her and I hate it . . .’ She realised she was crying and felt ashamed. He’d think she was a baby. She rubbed her face with her sleeve and noticed Diane was still standing there. Why didn’t she just go away? Leave her alone.

‘You could come and live with me,’ Lucas said. ‘Fuck the rest of them.’

Emma looked up, tried to work out if he was taking the piss. But his eyes flashed with something more serious. The same look he’d had when he’d said he wanted to touch her. When she’d let him.

‘Lucas,’ Jenny shouted, breaking the spell Emma was under. They both turned and saw Jenny mooning another group of unsuspecting pensioners. Jenny cackled as the little old ladies blushed and Emma couldn’t help but notice that Jenny’s arse was now aimed in Lucas’s direction. She was pathetic.

Lucas looked at Jenny with revulsion and turned his attention back to Emma. He moved himself closer to her, pushing her against the wall. ‘What do you think?’ Lucas said, his hand on her hip, fingers dipping beneath the waist of her jeans. ‘It’d be just you and me.’ His hand pushed further down and Emma’s heart raced. Someone was going to see.

‘Lucas,’ she whispered. ‘Not here.’ She pulled away from him, her face burning despite the bitterness of the wind.

Lucas’s hand wrapped around her arm and pulled her towards him, before slamming her into the wall. She felt the pain reverberate down her arm. He stared at her for a few moments, his eyes flashing again, and then he dropped his gaze and her arm and walked towards his mates for another can.

Emma told herself not to cry. Not now, anyway. She took the can Lucas offered her and then looked across the street and saw Diane walking away.

Chapter 9

13 December 2010

Yates’ probation officer had given Freeman the address of the bedsit where he was currently residing. She’d been there before. It was quite the place. Full of delightful young men and run, if she remembered correctly, by a little old woman who was more frightening than the residents.

She pulled over across the street. Three storeys of faded period-glamour. Much of the street had managed to retain respectability but Yates’ home was verging on an eyesore – the gate was hanging off its hinges, the front door dented, no doubt from when one of the residents had forgotten their key, lager cans littered the windowsills and the one, solitary, dead-or-dying bush at the front. The run-down pub and takeaway less than a minute away only added to the value of the place. If she had to live there she’d probably be out robbing the nearest bank so she could escape it. Sometimes she wondered how anybody could move on and become a good person when they were forced to live like this. But then she’d talk to them and start to think they deserved it.

She spent a lot of time thinking about that. About punishment, about rehabilitation, about why she’d become a copper in the first place. That all these scumbags were someone’s son, someone’s brother. But in the end there were no answers so she just got on with it. The criminals did their jobs and she did hers. The world keeps turning.

She’d wondered whether she was doing the right thing by hauling Lucas Yates in so soon. It was hard to pin a murder on someone without a positive ID on the body. But she needed to speak to him, needed to see his face when she asked him about Emma. True, she couldn’t hold him. Not unless he confessed, which was unlikely. But she needed to do it. She wanted him to know he wasn’t going to get away with it. Everything she’d read about Yates convinced her that if the girl
was
Emma then he would be the one who had killed her. One of the first things you learn as a detective is never to assume anything, but this, this was more than an assumption. Besides, who else would want to hurt Emma?

Freeman watched as a couple down the street argued. The woman shoved the man against a low wall and stomped off as best she could in the platform heels she was balancing on. The man gave her the finger and walked off in the other direction. She was forming uncomplimentary judgements when she recalled the night she’d told Brian to piss off for the last time. It had probably looked a lot like this. Without the heels.

She turned back to Yates’ bedsit and saw someone walking towards it. Between the grim grey of the architecture and the battered cars, the man looked out of place. A decently fitted black suit and blue tie stuck out like a sore thumb. She started to turn away, thinking he must be a solicitor. But at the last minute she glanced back at him and realised who she was staring at. Apparently Lucas Yates was not your usual tracksuited scumbag. She got out of the car and started to cross the street.

‘Mr Yates,’ she said and he turned around. ‘DS Freeman.’ She showed him her ID and for a split second she thought she saw fear. But he quickly composed himself and reached into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes.

Freeman stopped in front of him and felt, not for the first time in her life, like a small child. The picture of Yates she’d seen didn’t quite match, nor do justice, to the man in front of her. Seemed like he’d taken up weights while he was in prison. Though maybe only five-ten at most, he was imposing. But to her,
everyone
was tall. She’d had to ask ten-year-olds to reach for things in supermarkets before today.

‘Can I help you with something, officer?’ Lucas said, and lit his cigarette.

‘I was just wondering if you’d mind coming down to the station with me, to answer a few questions.’

‘About what?’ he said.

‘Emma Thorley.’

Freeman detected the faintest hint of a smile. He took another drag and then flicked the cigarette towards the door of his bedsit.