Stranger Child (16 page)

‘It’s getting dark out there. She’s brave, isn’t she, going into a murky wood on her own?’

‘Desperate, I think. I doubt she’ll notice the dark or the cold. Anyway, what did you find?’

‘Nothing. The only cars around seemed to be going about their normal business and there weren’t many of them. I’ve got the numbers of all of them. I’m about to run a check on them now. But no parked cars, nothing ringing any alarm bells. They’re obviously trusting technology and Natasha to keep control.’

Becky glanced at Tom and he could see concern written all over her face.

‘Are you okay with this, Tom? It’s bad enough when we don’t know the victims, but this must be difficult for you. What’s Emma like?’

Tom gazed out of the side window, away from Becky.

‘She was a totally steadying influence on my rather bonkers brother. And then he dumped her.’

Tom didn’t add how supportive Emma had been to him when his own marriage to Kate had failed a few months before Emma split with Jack, or how, over the years she’d spent with his brother, Emma had begun to feel like the sister he’d never had.

‘She’s a giver, if that makes sense. Always willing to help others, but she finds it very difficult to accept anything from people. I’m sorry we lost touch – especially now.’

‘This time she’s reached out to you, though, hasn’t she? I’m worried that you can’t be dispassionate about this case, Tom. Does Philippa know how close you were?’

Tom turned back to Becky and narrowed his eyes. ‘I’m not close to her. She’s somebody I used to know, which is why she was able to make contact with me. I’ve no personal interest in this case, other than making sure a baby boy is returned to his mother. Are we on the same page here, Becky?’

‘Got it,’ Becky said. ‘But if you have to have that conversation with anybody else, you need to be a whole lot more convincing.’

26

The comfort of the chair in Ollie’s room was doing nothing to soothe Emma. She pulled the phone out from the folds of the blanket she was clutching – a safe hiding place should anybody decide to follow her in here. The screen was blank. But then it was probably only about ten seconds since she had last checked.

She stared at her son’s empty cot. She should have been giving him his bottle now, feeling his warm body snuggle against her as he looked up at her with his big eyes, just showing the first hint of sleepiness. Who was looking after him? They wouldn’t know that he hates apples but loves pears, would they? Would he be warm enough? Had David put his coat on before Tasha took him out?

Her hand seemed to be set to automatic, dragging the phone from under the blanket every few seconds, then pushing it back. Out it came again – and this time the screen lit up. Emma felt a leap in her chest.

There’s a small wood about half a mile from your house on the road that leads to Willow Farm. Get away from the house and meet me there when you can. You might need a torch. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Your house is bugged. Careful what you say. Tom.

Thank God.

And thank God she had taken what had seemed the ridiculous precaution of speaking to Tom from the shower.

How was she going to get out of the house, though? She knew Natasha would have something to say on the subject, as David probably would. She had to make a stand and stick to it. The thought of somebody listening to her every word, every nuance, terrified her. Even if she could convince her husband and stepdaughter, would she convince the listeners? But this was for Ollie. She
had
to make it work.

Emma switched the phone off and buried it right at the bottom of Ollie’s toy box, trying not to look at all his favourite toys.

She pulled herself upright using the side of his cot as support, and took a deep, steadying breath.

‘Right. Let’s do it.’

She marched determinedly downstairs, grabbing her coat from the rack in the cloakroom.

Her resolve weakened when she pushed open the kitchen door. David was on his knees next to Natasha’s chair.

‘Natasha, please, darling. Tell us where he is. We’ll make sure you don’t get into trouble. I love you, Tasha – I’ve always loved you. I lost my little girl once and it was as if my heart had been cut out. Please don’t make me lose you again, and Ollie too. Please, darling.’

Emma looked at Natasha’s face, and for a moment she saw something there. A flicker of uncertainty, just for a second. Tempted as she was to rush over and join in the begging, she knew it wouldn’t work. To Natasha she was nothing, so her only choice was to play bad cop.

‘You’re wasting your time, David. She’s a heartless little cow.’ She walked towards the table and leaned forwards, resting her hands on the smooth surface and pushed her face towards Natasha. ‘Your baby brother adores you, and you know it. Ollie shouted your name all the time. “Ay, ay, Tassa.” Do you remember? He wrapped his chubby little arms around your leg, and he kissed you before he went to bed. Those lovely baby kisses. He would have loved you if you’d let him – and this is what you do to him. How do you think he’s feeling now, with somebody who doesn’t know him? Somebody who isn’t cuddling him and laughing when he thinks he’s being funny? He won’t only be crying for his mummy and daddy, though, will he? Not any more. He’ll be crying for you, “Tassa” – the one who’s betrayed him. He’ll be missing you too.’

Emma saw a distant echo of her own distress in Natasha’s eyes and couldn’t decide whether to push further against the girl’s defences or leave her with time to think. But Tom was waiting. She’d get back to Natasha later.

‘I’m going out,’ Emma said, pushing her arms into her coat.

Two pairs of eyes swivelled towards her in surprise. Natasha jumped up and quickly ran her hands over Emma’s body.

Bloody hell, she’s searching me. And she knows how to do it
.

Thank goodness she had left the phone upstairs. Her heart started to thump at the thought of how disastrous that could have been.

‘Don’t go,’ David said, looking wretched, still in his supplicant position. ‘We need you here, Em. We need to talk this through.’

‘No David – she’s not going to listen. She’s had all feeling drummed out of her. Anyway, how do we know she’s telling the truth? How do we know that anybody’s taken Ollie? How do we know that she didn’t do something to him when she took him for a walk, and that she’s made all this up to put us off the track? I’m going out to look for him.’

Emma stared at Natasha.

‘Have you hurt him, Natasha? Have you left him somewhere out there? Have you hurt your baby brother?’

Natasha turned away from Emma.

‘No, I wouldn’t,’ she said quietly. ‘I wouldn’t hurt Ollie. He’s safe. You’ll get him back – just do what we tell you. He’s not out there. I promise.’ Natasha’s voice faltered on the last word.

Oh my God, she’s going to cry
.

David was by Natasha’s side instantly, reaching out to hug her – and the spell was broken. She pushed him away, face hardened once again.

‘You need to stay here, Emma,’ she said. ‘They won’t like it if you leave the house.’

‘Tough,’ Emma said, aware of David’s head shaking as if telling her not to go. ‘I don’t believe anybody’s got my son. I believe there’s only you, Tasha. So I’m going to check – to see if I can find my baby. I should have done it hours ago.’

*

Tom could hear rustling in the undergrowth and knew somebody was approaching along the leaf-strewn path. It was a small wood – not much more than a copse really – but it would provide some cover from the road. Becky was right, though. The weather was wicked, and Tom blew on his fingers, wishing he had remembered some gloves.

Covering most of the torch with his fingers, he shone its diffused beam towards the path, and there she was.

He wanted to say she had hardly changed, and he suspected that a week ago those might have been the first words from his lips, but today it wasn’t true. Her face was devoid of a scrap of colour, unless you counted the blue smudges underneath her eyes, and her tight
ponytail made her pale face appear stark and angular, with none of the softness of features that Tom remembered.

She rushed to Tom and he enveloped her in his arms, holding her close. Her arms round his back were like limbs of steel, as if holding him this tightly would relieve the pain. In his grief over the loss of Jack he hadn’t appreciated how much he had missed this woman. She had helped him draw closer to his brother, and for that he couldn’t thank her enough.

‘I’m so sorry about all this, Emma. It must be hell for you, but we’re going to do everything we can to get Ollie back,’ he murmured close to her ear.

Emma pushed him away gently and glanced nervously over her shoulder into the blackness beyond the torchlight.

‘Do you think anybody will have followed me?’

‘No. We’ve had a good look around and there’s nobody watching the house. If anything, they’ll be watching the exit points to the lanes that lead from here. Becky’s paying David and Natasha a visit now with some fabricated new information about the boy on the train. She’ll keep them there, and if there are any problems she’ll call, so don’t worry.’

Emma’s eyes widened. ‘Becky knows? What if you’ve got a mole or something inside the police?’

Tom gently held Emma’s arms and looked down into her troubled eyes.

‘It’s okay. We have a procedure for this. Nearly every kidnap begins with the words ‘Don’t tell the police’ and we know exactly what to do. At the moment only four people know – me, my boss, Becky, and the guy who came to check out the bugs earlier. We’re putting together a team, but until we know what we’re dealing with we’ll keep it small and on a need-to-know basis.’

Emma nodded and sank back against Tom’s broad chest, wrapping her arms around him again. He could feel her body shuddering slightly, whether from cold or fear he didn’t know, but he tightened his hold, wishing he could pass some strength from his body into hers.

She pushed back again, unable, it seemed, to stay still. He felt the cold hit his chest where he had held her against him and pulled his coat more tightly across his body.

‘Tell me everything that’s happened.’

‘There’s not much that you don’t know already. I guess you’re up to date on Natasha’s reappearance? She’s been incredibly distant since the word go. She’s refused to tell us where she’s been living, how she got back, whether she’s been unhappy. She clearly blames David
for not being with them that night. It’s as if she wants to make him suffer – as if he hasn’t punished himself enough.’

‘Has she given you any hint at all of what’s going on?’

Emma shook her head. ‘She says there’s something that we have to do, and we’re going to be told soon. Then we can have Ollie back.’ Her voice broke on a sob. ‘She’s just a kid, Tom. How is this possible?’

He didn’t have the heart to tell her about the number of young criminals he had to deal with on a regular basis, most of them every bit as tough as their adult counterparts. And anyway she didn’t want a response. She wanted to talk, to try to find some release by sharing her fears.

‘David pleads with her. He doesn’t want to yell and scream, because he thinks she’s damaged. But I’ve made a bit of a breakthrough, I think. Ollie absolutely adores Natasha, and although she tried to keep herself distant from him, he’s a lovely baby and I saw her face soften a few times when he was trying to get her attention. I’m hoping that might be what breaks her – God knows, something’s got to.’

Tom nodded. ‘Listen, Emma, we don’t know how the next few hours or days are going to pan out, and my view is that we should take you all to a safe place and negotiate Ollie’s safe return.’

Emma grabbed Tom’s arm.

‘No, Tom.
No
. I know that by telling you I’ve broken their rules, and that was a huge risk. But I need them to think we’re going along with what they want. That’s what David wants us to do – agree with everything, and just get this thing over.’

‘Okay, but you need to remember the house is bugged – the kitchen, the sitting room and your bedroom – so if you do decide to tell David at any point about your contact with me you need to make sure you’re not overheard.’

Emma nodded and let go of Tom’s arm.

‘So how are you going to get Ollie back? They haven’t asked for any money yet. How long are they going to wait?’

Tom didn’t feel this was the appropriate time to tell her that it might not be money they wanted. That would scare her even more.

‘We’ve got some ideas and we’re going to be very cautiously checking them out. But we’re not talking about a random gang of chancers, so we need to handle it with care. We’re
trying to track down the lad Natasha recognised on the train. If he’s part of the same gang, he might lead us somewhere.’

‘What can I do – should I be trying to sort out some money?’

‘Don’t worry about money. Leave that to me. Forget it and focus on trying to get Natasha to tell you anything at all. Every little bit of information you can glean from her could be useful. Tell me anything – however trivial. Until then, just act as if you’re following instructions.’

Tom put his hands on Emma’s shoulders and looked down at her tear-streaked face.

‘You’re doing great, Emma. Keep plugging away at Natasha’s conscience. You might get through to her.’

Emma nodded, leaned in to give Tom a final hug and whispered, ‘Thanks,’ in his ear.

She turned to go, leaning forwards as if the pain racking her body was making it difficult to stand upright.

‘Emma,’ Tom said softly. ‘I’m so sorry about the way Jack treated you. I’ve never understood it and I’d always thought I’d have the time with him to force him to explain it to me. I never expected the daft bugger to die like that. Did you ever understand why?’

Emma’s body straightened, but she didn’t turn round.

‘Why he dumped me, or why he died?’

Tom frowned. What did she mean, why he died? Emma didn’t wait for his response and half turned back towards him, not meeting his eyes.

‘Do you know he dumped me by email? Did he ever tell you that? No – I bet he didn’t. We’d rented a place in Croatia for a year if you remember, and Jack had come over to England to work on one of the random projects he’d taken on since selling his business. That’s when he met Melissa – the woman he left me for. So it was one brief note, and goodbye me.’