Mummy's Favourite (23 page)

She turned towards her daughter. ‘Yes it is. Let's hope it doesn't take too long. I don't want to run out of time for our shopping.'

She relaxed again. What had it come to when you got suspicious of every Good Samaritan? There were still honest people out there who wanted to help for the right reasons. You didn't have to question everyone's motives or fear the worst in every good deed.

The man opened the door and appeared next to her. He bent down, so his face was level with hers and nodded towards her and Gemma.

‘Right,' he said quietly calm. ‘Let's get started… I want you both to keep your mouths shut, get out of the car and walk towards mine. I want you to get into the rear of my car without saying a word. If either of you speak or scream or attempt anything stupid, I will kill you both.'

He smiled as he finished.

Dana was taken aback, confused even. What was he talking about? Why was he saying those words to them? It didn't fit. She opened her mouth as if to remonstrate but shut it again quickly as she saw the flash of the blade in the interior light.

The man moved the knife up into their line of vision, twisting it in his hands as if to emphasize his willingness to use it.

He held it against Dana's leg, pushing at it slightly so that the tip of the blade slipped through the thin material of her trousers and into her skin.

She turned and looked at Gemma, whose expression was frozen in fear, her eyes wide and frightened and her mouth slightly open as if gasping for air.

In that second, Dana realized that it was her error of judgement that had got them into this position. Not only her life, but that of her daughter, was now well and truly in the hands of this so-called Samaritan.

The studio at the BBC Broadcasting House, Cardiff, was pulsing with nervous energy as Charlie sat waiting, excited and nervous, at the prospect of being part of Crimewatch. It wasn't every day you were chosen to take part in such an iconic programme, and it wasn't every day that an investigation in which you were involved, was of such national interest. Although initially feeling a sense of failure at having to use the programme, any negativity had turned to enthusiastic positivity. Tonight could be the night to provide the luck, and the answers, they so badly needed. Hunter sat opposite, leafing through a few sheets of A4, obviously trying to memorize a last few details to make his appeal more fluid. He was to be the one interviewed at the conclusion of the appeal.

Crimewatch
was going out live and she was honoured to be part of the small team in the background taking the calls. She'd watched the programme as a young child. Since its first broadcast in 1984, its appeal to viewers and members of the public had not diminished. People still switched on, in their millions to help solve the latest crimes, hoping to be able to recognize a face that appeared on the screen, or assist with a situation played out in the reconstructions. Some tuned in simply out of morbid fascination with the high-profile murders and yet more tuned in to ensure it was not their mug-shot being shown on national TV. Whatever the appeal,
Crimewatch
reaped results and Charlie hoped it would for them too.

The reconstruction footage had taken most of the previous afternoon to film; actors taking the place of the two missing pairs. She had hardly been able to watch; each minute that the cameras shot, taking them steadily towards the moment when the actresses playing Helena and Daisy had waved goodbye. She had never had that chance. Jamie had just disappeared, no opportunity to take a final glance, to record for ever in her memory his final expression, the last few seconds of his life. Maybe it had been better that way.

The whole team had been deeply moved by the time filming was concluded. It was awful watching the sequences being filmed, knowing that the persons portrayed were, in all probability, dead now, but having no certainty that this was the case. Anything, absolutely anything, was better than not knowing. Even if to know meant relinquishing all hope.

With that in mind, the journey to Wales had been a sombre affair. It was personal to all of them now and they wanted to get a result. They had been silent in the studio, the tension mounting as they got closer and awaited their turn to be broadcast.

Some of the relatives were sitting in the waiting area; their pain still raw for all to see. Keith Hubbard was the only exception, refusing to take part; his remaining son, Ryan, having tried, without success to persuade him. Julie's parents were standing in for him. They had wanted to bring Ryan so he could feel as if he had contributed, but again Hubbard had stubbornly refused. Poor Ryan! Charlie could well imagine how dreadful it must be for him, sat at home, feeling useless and alone, prevented from doing anything to help bring back his brother and mother. She knew what it was like.

The broadcast was nearly ready to start. Charlie was seated, nervously eying her phone and checking once again that she had enough paper and pens to cope with the expected rush of calls. Reconstructions of this sort of crime historically brought a huge number of leads. The team would be sifting through the essential, the useful, the not so useful and the downright useless pieces of information for weeks to come if no early arrests were made. They needed names more than anything; anyone who had been acting differently to normal, whose movements were a little haphazard, whose manner had changed; names of anyone fitting the psychological profile; names of people fitting the physical description of the suspect caught on CCTV. Names of anyone that might be linked to the suspects they had. Not having a clear facial image would mean more information being thrown into the pot, but it was better to have too much, than too little.

The most recent profile from the hair in the rental car had not yielded a DNA profile matching anyone currently on the DNA database, another huge bit of bad luck. It was not a certainty, by any means, that it did belong to their man, and Latchmere and Hubbard were still suspects for that very reason. However, if a new subject was named as a result of
Crimewatch
and that subject's DNA matched the hair, it would at least provide a good basis on which to base the ongoing enquiries. They would have something to explain.

Theirs was to be the second main appeal. Its inclusion in the programme had been widely publicized, so the team were hoping that, with the huge public interest in the case, even more people than normal would tune in.

The first appeal was just concluding and Kirsty Young was getting ready to introduce their case. Charlie nodded towards Hunter who was sitting opposite her and mouthed the words ‘Good luck'. He nodded back his thanks then made his way over to the interview stand. The introductions were being made and the sequences were being run now.

The camera zoomed in as the presenter started to speak to Hunter. What were they hoping for specifically, was there any information in particular that would assist in the investigation? Hunter was cool and clear. He always presented himself well during interview and this was no different. Anything would help; any tiny piece of information, even if the viewer thought it to be irrelevant. The abductor had struck twice now within a fairly short spell of time and it was paramount that he be identified and stopped before he struck again. Police had been advised that this could well happen imminently, as the cycle of his offending was increasing and he would know that it was only a matter of time before he was caught. He may well be riding a wave of adrenaline at the moment, at having escaped capture so far. He finished with a direct plea for viewers to provide names of any suspects, even if only a hunch.

Kirsty Young was thanking him now and walking towards the relatives. John McPherson sat next to Abigail, her face blurred out. It was thought that the presence of Abi, the family's remaining child, would provoke more viewers to ring in.

She spoke to Dan Grayson, Julie Hubbard's father, first.

‘I know this must be extremely hard, not knowing where your daughter and grandson are, but is there anything you would like to say to the viewers out there who might be worried about picking up their phones?'

Dan Grayson sat up in his chair, shuffling slightly, and cleared his throat. His wife gripped his arm tightly as he spoke. He looked old beyond his years.

‘If there's anything that you know, however small, please call in. We've heard nothing from Julie and Richard since they disappeared at the end of March. Our other grandson is missing his brother and mum and we are desperate for their safe return.'

Charlie swallowed hard at the speech. It was interesting how Julie's father had not mentioned Keith at all. Her mind spun back to their first meeting, remembering the smell of disinfectant in her throat and the power of his boot on her shoulder. Maybe they disliked him as much as she did.

A cry stirred her from her thoughts. Abigail was sobbing unashamedly. Her father put his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as he spoke. There was nothing false or forced about his voice. He looked and sounded like a broken man.

‘Please we just want Helena and Daisy back...'

Another loud sob escaped from Abi's lips. He gave up trying to speak altogether and pulled her head towards his shoulder, burying her face into his clothing. His other hand lay impotently on his knee. Actions spoke louder than words. The camera panned back up to Kirsty Young who was herself trying to maintain control.

‘My thanks to Dan Grayson and John McPherson for coming in to speak to us at this distressing time. Please; if there's anything you can help us with, contact
Crimewatch
now. We have a large group of detectives just waiting to take your calls. You can see what it would mean to the families to locate their loved ones. So please call.'

The numbers came up on the screen. Charlie checked her paper and pens one last time. The ‘most wanted' file had started. Kirsty Young thanked the relatives and Hunter for their efforts. Julie's parents were crying quietly. John and Abi were still clinging to each other. Hunter looked visibly relieved that it was all over.

She tore her eyes away from them, her thoughts running haywire. A shiver of determination ran down her spine. They were going to crack this case; they just needed their luck to change. As her phone burst into life, she had a gut feeling that it was going to start tonight.

*

Nearly an hour of phone calls had passed and they were beginning to send in results for the
Crimewatch
update programme to be held shortly. Charlie had fielded quite a large number of calls, taking a very brief précis of the information given and collating the details of all callers to be contacted back at a later stage. The information was graded, depending on whether the caller themselves knew the information to be true, or whether they had heard it from a separate source. Several had given the names of potential suspects and these were being researched straight away. As far as she knew the names she had been given hadn't been corroborated by any other callers, which was a shame; it was always good to get several independent sources coming up with the same suspect. All they needed was one name to be right and they'd have their result. She hoped it would come from one of hers.

She glanced across at Hunter whose head was down speaking on the phone. It had been hectic from the moment the phone numbers were given out and it was likely to remain so for some time to come. She watched as he put the studio phone down and took a call on his personal mobile, pulling it from his pocket and putting it to his ear. He frowned immediately and shook his head. She could see it wasn't good news.

The light was blinking on her phone again. She reached over and picked it up.

‘Hello, you're through to
Crimewatch
. DC Stafford speaking. How can I help?'

A woman came on the line. She had a slight accent that Charlie placed as from somewhere in Eastern Europe. She sounded nervous.

‘Hello.'

‘Hello can I take your name and contact number, just in case we get cut off.'

‘Will I get in trouble?' the woman's voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

‘Well, I will do my best to sort out whatever problem you have. I can promise you that.'

‘My name is Olga Kaplinski and I can be contacted at my father's address at 23 Farthing Way, York.'

‘And what do you want to tell me about the case?'

‘I didn't know whether to call or not. It happened a long time ago.'

Charlie waited. She was hoping for something a little more up to date and relevant. Her eye was drawn back to Hunter, still speaking seriously on his mobile. He was on his feet now, beckoning towards Kirsty Young and one of the producers. Whatever he needed them for was clearly important.

‘So what happened and why do you think it's relevant to this case?' She was a little shorter than she meant to be. It was getting late and she wanted to know about the conversation that was unfolding in front of her.

‘Well,' the woman's voice got even quieter, ‘a long time ago when I wasn't supposed to be here, I was given false documents and forced to pretend that I was leaving this country as another woman, with a child.'

She jotted the details down automatically. Hunter was walking towards the team now, obviously waiting for a chance to announce something to them all.

‘Thank you for your phone call, Olga,' she said. ‘We'll be in touch soon for further details.'

She put the phone down, just catching the caller's last words before it disconnected.

‘The woman and child had been reported missing.'

Hunter was standing directly in front of them all. He looked around to see if he had the full attention of all the detectives. Most had finished their calls, cutting them short as she had, in response to the urgency of his expression.

‘Ladies and gentlemen, sorry to disrupt you in the middle of your conversations but we've had a further incident that you all need to know about. It isn't to be divulged at this stage to the public but you all need to know that about half an hour ago the incident room had a call from Justin Latchmere. It appears that his wife Dana and their daughter Gemma have gone missing and it's feared that they too have been abducted.