Stolen Children
MICHAEL WOOD

One More Chapter

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First published in Great Britain by HarperCollinsPublishers 2020

Copyright © Michael Wood 2020

Cover design by HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd 2020

Cover images © Shutterstock.com

Michael Wood asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This is a work of fiction. Every reasonable attempt to verify the facts against available documentation has been made.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008374860

Ebook Edition © October 2020 ISBN: 9780008374853

Version: 2020-11-18

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue: Monday 10th September 2018

Chapter 1: Monday 10th September 2018

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8: Tuesday 11th September 2018

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19: Wednesday 12th September 2018

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29: Thursday 13th September 2018

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37: Friday 14th September 2018

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44: Saturday 15th September 2018

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

Chapter 58

Chapter 59: Sunday 16th September 2018

Chapter 60

Chapter 61

Chapter 62

Chapter 63

Chapter 64: Monday 17th September 2018

Chapter 65

Epilogue: Tuesday 16th October 2018

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Michael Wood

About the Publisher

To Chris Simmons.

For starting the ball rolling all those years ago.

Prologue
Monday 10th September 2018
Avenue de la Corse, Marseille, France.
9am

He walked down the road with cars parked either side. It was early morning, but the sun was already high in the bright blue sky. Up ahead was a golden sandy beach and beyond that, the warm crystal waters of the Mediterranean Sea.

There was a breeze blowing which cooled him down slightly. He was nervous. No, he was petrified. Sweat was running down his face and his Adidas T-shirt was sticking to his back.

He kept turning around and looking over his shoulder. He had no idea how he had managed to leave his hotel room without awakening his “parents” in the adjoining room. He’d crept down the back stairs and scurried through the kitchens. He’d gone unnoticed as breakfast for more than two hundred guests was busily being prepared. He’d dodged shouting chefs and hurrying waiters, stolen a banana and a croissant from a tray, and bolted out of the fire escape. Once he was out of sight of the hotel, he’d sat on the steps of a closed shop and eaten his meagre breakfast. It had tasted foul.

Yesterday evening, while alone in his single room, he’d looked on his phone for the nearest police station. It was less than a five-minute walk, yet he’d been walking for more than half an hour now and he still couldn’t find it. He’d been down the Avenue de la Corse twice and there was nothing resembling a police station at all.

Then he saw it. Above a black door, next to barred windows was a sign which read Police Nationale. He’d thought it was a closed down shop when he’d passed it before. How could such a small building be a police station?

His heart quickened. He glanced around him once more to check he wasn’t being followed, then pushed open the door and stepped inside.

He didn’t know a word of French apart from bonjour. Marseille seemed like a very touristy place, so, fingers crossed, someone in here would speak English and understand him. He approached the desk. A dishevelled man in his mid-fifties with grey stubble and a dark tan looked down at him.

‘Bonjour. Comment puis-je vous aider?’

He looked up at him with wide, terrified eyes. ‘Do you speak English?’

‘Non.’

‘Is there someone here who speaks English?’

The policeman looked to the door then back at the young boy. ‘Où sont vos parents?’

He only understood the word parents and took a step back. He looked at the door. This had all been a terrible mistake. He should leave. Run. But where to?

‘Please. I need your help.’ His eyes filled with tears.

The policeman didn’t say anything to him but stepped away from his desk. At the back of the room, he spoke to another man in an identical uniform. Their voices were low, and they kept looking over at him. He still had time to run.

‘Hello. I speak a little English,’ the second man said in a heavily accented voice when they both returned to the front desk.

From his back pocket, the boy took out a sheet of A4 paper that had been folded into fours. He opened it up, placed it on the desk and flattened it out. It was a missing persons poster.

Underneath the red headline was a photograph of a young boy, smiling, with blond hair and blue eyes.

The boy pointed at the photograph and then at himself. He did this a few times.

‘This is me,’ he said. ‘This boy is me.’

‘This is you?’

‘Yes.’

‘You are this missing boy?’

‘Yes. I’m him. I’m Carl Meagan.’

Chapter 1
Monday 10th September 2018
Stannington, Sheffield
4pm

Linda Armitage opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out into the bedroom. She was pale and a sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. She’d been sick. Again.

She looked at her son, Riley, in his bed. He was lying on his side, mouth agape, breathing deeply. He was finally asleep. She turned off the television which was showing an episode of Pingu she had seen thousands of times before and turned on the monitor on the bedside table. Not that she needed to. When Riley woke up, he screamed the house down. However, Linda always needed to be able to hear him breathing. A slight deviation from the norm and she was in his room like a shot to make sure he was still alive.

Hopefully, he’d sleep for an hour or so and she could get some time to herself before she had to start making the evening meal. She flicked the kettle on in the kitchen and sat down at the table. She was tired. She needed a shower; her hair was greasy; her skin was dry, and she hadn’t changed her clothes for a couple of days.

The front door opened and was kicked closed with a bang. Linda braced herself but it didn’t wake Riley up.

Her fourteen-year-old daughter, Jodie, struggled under the weight of the shopping bags and heaved them onto the counter in the kitchen.

‘Are you all right?’ Jodie asked.

‘Yes. Fine. Why?’

‘You’re pale. Have you been sick again?’

‘Just a bit.’

‘Have you eaten anything?’

‘Yes. I had that sandwich you made me for lunch. I managed to keep it down for an hour or so, but …’ she tailed off.

‘Maybe you should go back to the doctor.’

‘I will. Did you get me some ibuprofen?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘No. Mrs Mortimer wouldn’t serve me. She said it was more than her job’s worth.’

‘Oh for God’s sake. She knows they’re for me.’

‘I said that,’ Jodie said as she began to unpack. ‘They didn’t have any ham for Keeley’s packed lunch either, so I bought chicken. Is she here? I could have done with a hand carrying all this.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Linda asked as she rummaged in the drawer looking for any ibuprofen that may have been missed.

‘I told her to wait for me outside the Co-op. She knew I was buying milk. I came out and she’d buggered off. You’re going to have to have a word with her, Mum. I don’t mind helping around the house but she’s old enough to take on a bit more responsibility too, you know.’

‘I will. Found some,’ she said, ignoring Jodie and pulling out a blister pack with two tablets left. ‘I wonder how long these have been in there. They should be all right, shouldn’t they?’ She poured a glass of water from the tap and swigged them back.

‘Mum, did you hear what I said?’

‘Yes, I did. I’ll have a word with her when she comes in.’

‘You mean she hasn’t come home yet?’

‘No. I mean … she was with you.’

Jodie sighed. ‘I’ve just told you that she wasn’t there when I came out of the Co-op. I assumed she’d run on ahead.’

‘Well, she hasn’t.’

‘Then where is she?’

‘I don’t know.’

Mother and daughter stood glaring at each other.

‘I suppose that means I’ve got to go out and look for her then, doesn’t it?’ Jodie said, irritation evident in her voice.

‘Well I can’t,’ Linda said, nodding towards Riley’s bedroom.

Jodie threw the pack of apples she’d been unpacking down onto the table and stormed out of the kitchen towards the front door. She was muttering under her breath, but Linda couldn’t hear what she was saying. She slammed the door behind her. This time, Riley woke, and his screaming began.

So much for having five minutes to relax with a cup of tea.

Linda went into Riley’s room. He was sitting up in bed. His face was red and screwed up as he cried. He was trying to pull at his hair, but he had his mittens on, so he wasn’t able to inflict any injury to himself.

Linda flicked on the light and the disco ball in the ceiling began rotating, casting its soothing colours on the walls as they danced around the room. She picked up the remote and put the TV back on, back to that annoying penguin making that awful noise and pissing on the ice.

The landline in the hallway started to ring.

Linda ignored it and picked Riley up. He started to relax immediately. He felt safer in someone’s arms.

She made soothing noises and rubbed his back gently. The phone continued to ring.

‘Shall we go and see who’s ringing us, Riley?’ she asked in a sing-song voice. ‘It might be your nana to tell us all about her bunions again. Or maybe a nice gentleman will ask if we want to claim back PPI.’

She struggled to move Riley to her other arm. He was getting heavier by the day, and she seemed to be getting weaker. It wouldn’t be long before she’d be unable to pick him up at all.

‘Hello?’ She answered the phone.

‘Mrs Armitage?’

‘Yes.’

‘Linda Armitage?’

‘Yes,’ she strained to hear. With Riley gurgling on one side and a barely audible distorted voice coming through the phone line, she struggled to concentrate.

‘We have your daughter.’

‘What?’

‘We’ve got Keeley. Pay fifty thousand pounds if you want her back.’

‘Who is this?’ Linda gripped the receiver hard. Her eyes widened, her mouth dried, and her heart thumped loudly in her chest. This was a joke, surely.

‘We’ll ring back in twenty-four hours.’

The line went dead.

Linda remained frozen to the spot, the phone still next to her ear. All she could hear was the dial tone. Had she just imagined that call? She hadn’t been sleeping too well lately. She hadn’t left the house for six days. Was her mind playing tricks on her? People didn’t get kidnapped for ransom in this country. Well, there was that little boy, Carl something. He was from Sheffield. She couldn’t remember what had happened to him though.

Riley started to struggle in her arms. He flailed his legs, kicking her in the stomach and his glove-covered hands slapped at her face. She didn’t feel it. She ran back into his bedroom, dumped him in his bed and lifted up the railing on the side so he couldn’t get out. He began to cry and scream again, but she ignored him and left the room, closing the door behind her.

She ran into the living room for her mobile and scrolled through the contacts for her daughter’s number. Her fingers were shaking, her eyes were blurred, but she somehow managed to make the call.

The phone began to ring in the kitchen. She ran in and saw Jodie’s mobile on the work top.

‘Fuck.’

In a full-blown panic, Linda dropped the phone and hurried to the front door. She opened it and ran out into the autumn sunshine. At the end of the garden path she looked left and right. There was nobody around.

‘Jodie!’ She called out. There was no reply. She ran to the end of the road. ‘Jodie!’

Tears were streaming down her face. She had no idea what she was supposed to do. She felt completely alone. Alone and desperate.

Curtains began to twitch in neighbouring houses as people wondered as to the commotion.

‘JODIE!’ She screamed at the top of her voice.

‘Linda, what’s going on?’

She turned around and saw her next-door neighbour had come out of her house.

‘Amanda, have you seen our Jodie or Keeley anywhere?’ Linda asked.

‘Jesus, Lin, what’s happened? Are you all right?’ She asked, looking her up and down and taking in her dishevelled appearance.

‘No. I need Jodie.’

‘I saw her leave your house not five minutes back.’

‘Where did she go? Which direction?’

‘I’ve no idea. What’s going on?’

‘Someone’s got our Keeley,’ she cried.

‘What?’

‘Someone’s just called. They’ve got our Keeley. They’ve taken her.’

‘Who has?’

‘I don’t know,’ she screamed.

‘Come on,’ she put a comforting arm around Linda’s shoulders and slowly walked her back to the house. ‘Let’s get you inside. We’ll call your Craig and the police and let them sort it out.’

‘I can’t lose her. I can’t lose my baby,’ she cried.

‘You won’t lose anyone. I promise. Everything will be fine.’

More neighbours had gathered onto the small street to stare at the commotion.

***

Since Riley was born and because of his subsequent illness, Linda had hardly left the house. She felt embarrassed if he yelled or cried in public and people looked at her as if she was an unfit mother, unable to control her child, so she simply stopped going out. Months went by without her having her hair cut. She no longer showered daily. The weight had dropped off her and she’d stopped sleeping. Her life revolved around the twenty-four-hour-a-day care Riley needed.

Amanda led Linda into the living room and sat her on the sofa.

‘Now, tell me what’s going on?’ she asked.

‘Keeley’s gone,’ she said through the tears. ‘Someone’s taken her.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘What are you talking about? Of course I’m sure.’

Amanda took Linda’s hand in hers. ‘Look, it’s obvious you’ve not been looking after yourself, and I know you’ve not been sleeping too well lately. Are you sure you haven’t just nodded off and had a bad dream?’

‘What? Don’t you believe me?’

Amanda looked away.

‘Jesus Christ! Are you saying I’ve made it up? Do you think I’m going mad or something?’ She ranted, snatching her hands back.

‘I’m not saying anything like that, Linda. It’s just … well, you are under a lot of strain at the moment. Craig’s working all hours and you’re trying to look after three kids on your own. It’s going to have some kind of psychological …’

‘You think I’m cracking up,’ she interrupted. ‘You think I’m imagining things.’

‘There are places Riley can go, respite, so you can get some rest.’

‘I can’t believe this. Haven’t you heard what I’m saying? Keeley has been kidnapped and they want fifty thousand pounds, or they’ll kill her.’

‘Linda, listen to yourself. This is Sheffield, not New York. People don’t get kidnapped for ransom here.’

‘You’re not listening to me,’ she screamed, pulling hard at her hair.

‘Ok, ok, calm down. I tell you what, I’ll phone Craig, he can come home and sort it all out.’

‘You need to call the police.’

‘I’ll call them too,’ she lied.

***

4:45pm

‘Mum, I’m back,’ Jodie called from the hallway. ‘I’ve been right back to the school and nobody’s seen …’ She stopped in the entrance to the living room when she saw her mother on the sofa with Amanda Raine comforting her. ‘What’s up?’

‘Did you find her?’ Linda jumped up from the sofa.

‘No. I even knocked on a few of her friends’ doors as I passed. Nobody’s seen her since she left school.’

‘Oh my God,’ Amanda said.

‘See, now do you believe me?’

‘What’s going on?’ Jodie asked.

‘Jodie, come with me.’ Amanda turned Jodie around and pushed her out into the hallway, closing the living room door behind her. ‘Jodie, your mum seems to think Keeley’s been kidnapped.’

‘What? That’s ridiculous. She’ll have just gone off with a friend or something.’

‘That’s what I said. She said she’s had a phone call from someone demanding fifty thousand pounds.’

‘What? But … oh my God.’

‘What is it?’

‘Keeley had PE today.’

‘So?’

‘She said that Mr Page …’

‘What about Mr Page?’

A look of horror etched itself on Jodie’s face. ‘Have you called the police?’

‘No. I called your dad but he’s in Chesterfield on a delivery. He said he’ll come back as soon as he can.’

‘We should call the police.’

‘Jodie, what is it? What do you know?’

‘I think Mum might be right. I think Keeley might have been taken.’

Chapter 2

‘I’m Detective Sergeant Sian Mills. This is Detective Constable Finn Cotton from South Yorkshire Police.’

‘Come in,’ Amanda ushered them both into the house and quickly closed the door behind them.

All three stood in the cramped hallway. Sian looked at the walls and took in the framed pictures of a happy family smiling at her. There were coats hanging on the wall and shoes haphazardly placed at the bottom of the stairs. This was a lived-in family home.

‘Was it you who called the police?’ Sian asked.

‘Yes. It’s Mr and Mrs Armitage’s daughter, Keeley, who’s gone missing.’

‘Are they through there?’ Sian asked, pointing to what she assumed was the living room.

‘Yes. Linda’s in a bit of a state,’ she said in hushed tones. ‘Craig’s, well, he’s a bit more controlled.’

‘Ok. And you’re saying Keeley has been kidnapped?’

‘Well,’ Amanda leaned closer to Sian. She dropped her voice even lower. ‘That’s what Linda says. I’m not sure if I believe her.’

‘Right,’ Sian said, exchanging glances with Finn. ‘Let’s go and have a word with them.’

The living room wasn’t very large, and it was cluttered. The first thing Sian noticed was the giant bean bag in the corner. Jodie was sitting in it with Riley on her lap. He was wearing woollen mittens and a safety helmet. Linda was standing by the window, glaring out at the darkening street. She was biting her nails. Any hint of a noise, anything that caught her eye and she turned quickly towards it like a lion alert to its prey. On the sofa sat Craig. His face was expressionless. A large, solidly built man in his forties, he wore dirty jeans, an old sweater and a hi-vis waistcoat. There was a heavy atmosphere in the room, which was to be expected. Nobody spoke.

‘Linda, the police are here,’ Amanda said quietly as she ushered Sian and Finn into the room.

Sian proffered a sympathetic smile. ‘Mr and Mrs Armitage, hello. I’m DS Sian Mills. This is DC Finn Cotton. Is it all right if I sit down?’ There was no reply, so Sian perched herself on the edge of the sofa next to Craig. From her bag, she took out a thick form and a ballpoint pen. She tucked her red hair behind her ears and cleared her throat. ‘I won’t patronise you by saying I know how you’re feeling right now, because I don’t. However, I’m going to do everything possible to find your daughter.’

‘Then why aren’t you out there looking?’ Linda said. Her eyes were full of tears. There were dark circles beneath them, and she already had the look of a defeated mother who had given up all hope.

‘Linda, I need to know as much as possible about Keeley before I can get a team out looking for her. The more information you give me, the more likely we are to find her.’

‘Ask your questions,’ Craig said.

‘Thank you. Now, how long has Keeley been missing for?’

‘It was about four o’clock when I left her outside the Co-op,’ Jodie said from the corner of the room. Her voice was barely audible.

‘Is that the Co-op on Oldfield Road?’

Jodie nodded and Finn made a note in his pad.

Sian looked at her watch. It was half past five. ‘Have you called all her friends to see if she is with any of them?’

‘I did,’ Amanda chimed up. ‘Linda’s got her friends’ numbers in her phone. I called them all. Nobody has seen her since she left school.’

‘Which school is that?’

‘Mary Croft Primary School on Hopwood Lane.’

‘And have you contacted family members to see if she’s with any of them?’

Craig nodded. ‘She isn’t.’

‘Linda, what can you tell me about this phone call?’ Sian asked.

Linda tried to speak but her emotions wouldn’t allow it. Her bottom lip wobbled. When she opened her mouth, she choked and buckled. Craig jumped up and caught her. He towered over his wife and held her firmly against his chest.

Sian looked around the room. Bookshelves were full to bursting with paperbacks, DVDs and ornaments. Picture frames adorned the mantelpiece showing the children in various states of happiness.

Sian turned to Jodie. She decided to leave the matter of the phone call for a moment. ‘Jodie, what was Keeley wearing when you last saw her?’

Jodie wiped her left eye with her sleeve. ‘She was wearing her school uniform and a yellow jacket over the top. She had a pink backpack with her, too. It was a Frozen one.’

‘Is there a chance Keeley may have run away?’

‘No,’ Jodie answered.

‘No she bloody hasn’t,’ Linda exploded, pulling herself out of her husband’s embrace. ‘She’s been kidnapped. Somebody has taken her.’ She wiped her eyes. ‘The phone rang. I answered. A man said he’d taken my daughter and wanted fifty thousand pounds. He said he’d call back in twenty-four hours and the line went dead.’

Finn was scribbling frantically in his notebook. ‘What time was the call?’ He asked without looking up.

Linda looked to Amanda.

‘It was a little after four,’ she said. ‘Maybe ten past.’

‘Was it definitely a man’s voice?’ Sian asked.

‘I … yes. I think so.’

‘You think?’

‘It was … deep. Low.’

‘Did you recognise it?’

‘No.’

Sian turned to look at Finn who raised an eyebrow before scribbling back into his notebook.

‘You don’t believe me, do you?’ Linda said. ‘Why would I make something like that up?’

‘Linda, nobody is doubting you. I’m just trying to get all the facts,’ Sian said in as soothing a tone as she could. ‘Now, has Keeley ever gone missing before?’

‘No she hasn’t,’ Linda snapped again. ‘She has no reason to go missing. Look,’ she ran her fingers through her hair, pulling at it hard. ‘She hasn’t run away. She isn’t with friends. She isn’t in the habit of just taking off without telling us. She’s nine years old for crying out loud. Some sick bastard has taken my daughter now will you do what you’re paid to do, and fucking find her,’ Linda screamed.

Craig grabbed his wife again and pulled her towards him. ‘I think she might need to have a lie down,’ he said.

Amanda opened the living room door, and everyone watched as Craig practically carried Linda out of the room. Even Riley had stopped fidgeting and was glaring at his mother.

‘Jodie, does your sister have a mobile phone?’ Sian asked.

‘No. She wants one, but Dad says she’s too young.’

‘Do you have a recent photo of Keeley we can use?’

‘There’s the school one above the fireplace, but it was taken earlier this year. She’s wearing her uniform in it.’

Sian went over to the mantelpiece and picked up the cheap silver frame. Keeley, wearing her blue cardigan and white polo shirt was beaming to the camera. Her wavy blonde hair was tied back in a neat ponytail. Her complexion was smooth and clear, her eyes a brilliant blue. Sian found herself smiling slightly as she gazed into the little girl’s eyes.

‘She wouldn’t run away,’ Jodie said. Her voice was broken as she tried to act the grown-up in the absence of her parents. ‘Things aren’t easy around here with Riley. We all muck in and help. She wouldn’t do anything to add more worry.’

Sian looked down at Riley then back at Jodie. She nodded. ‘I understand. We will find her, Jodie.’

The door opened and Craig sheepishly entered the living room. ‘I’m so sorry about that.’

‘There’s no need to apologise,’ Sian said. ‘This is an extraordinary situation you’re in. Now, I’m going to go back to the station, and we’ll formulate a plan to find Keeley. However, if she has been kidnapped, it’s just possible they may be watching the house. I’m going to have a Family Liaison Officer come out and spend the night here in case they make contact and to answer any questions you may have. I’m going to take this photo of Keeley,’ Sian said, showing the framed picture. ‘But I’ll make sure you get it back. Now, Craig, I need you to sign this giving your consent for us to contact your local GP, dentist and Keeley’s school. This is purely to help us gather as much information as we can to find Keeley. It also gives us consent to pass on information about Keeley to relevant media organisations should we need to put out a missing persons alert.’

She handed him the form and her pen. He scribbled where shown and handed it back.

‘You will find her, won’t you?’ He asked, his voice level.

‘We will absolutely do everything possible. I promise you,’ she said, looking directly into his eyes.

Sian nodded to Finn and they left the living room. It wasn’t until they were outside the house that they both visibly relaxed.

‘Oh my God,’ Finn said as they made their way to the car. ‘That poor family. Do you know what it reminded me of?’

‘I know what you’re going to say and I’d rather you didn’t,’ she said as she climbed in behind the wheel.

‘Do you think it’s possible it’s the same people?’ Finn asked, putting on his seatbelt.

Sian sat in silence and thought for a while. ‘Nobody knows what happened to Carl Meagan. We don’t know if he’s dead or alive. However, the kidnappers didn’t get their ransom money. From their point of view, it was a failed kidnapping.’

‘Maybe they’ve learned from their mistakes and are having another go.’

‘Shit. I need to talk to Matilda before this gets out.’

Chapter 3

Detective Chief Inspector Matilda Darke had sneaked out of the police station and driven home. She turned from the smooth tarmacked road and down the bone-shaking dirt track that led to the former farmhouse. Daniel Harbison’s dirty Ford van was already parked outside. She smiled as soon as she saw him and hoped she didn’t make a pillock of herself as she tried to park the Range Rover in such a tight space. This was her second four-wheel drive in less than a year and she still couldn’t get used to how much bigger it was than the Fiats she had previously driven.

‘You’re all done then?’ She asked as she climbed down from the car.

‘Yep. All done and dusted.’ He held out his hand with a bunch of shiny new keys in his palm.

Daniel Harbison was an old friend of her husband’s. They’d worked together as architects many times over the years, collaborating on projects and running ideas past each other. Following his death, Matilda had felt a change of house was needed in order to try to get on with picking up the pieces of her life. She’d fallen in love with the ramshackle farmhouse the second she stumbled upon it. It needed a great deal of work to make it habitable and Daniel was the first name that had come to mind.

Adjacent to the house was a building used as a double garage. Matilda was happy to leave it as it was. However, Daniel was itching to get his hands on it. The roof, although in urgent need of replacing, was structurally sound, and had enough space to turn it into a self-contained flat. Matilda was against the idea. The thought of having a tenant, especially one so close, was the antithesis of moving here in the first place. Daniel had told her, many times, that it would add thousands to the asking price, should she wish to sell in the future. She’d make a fortune. Eventually, she relented and gave him free reign to do whatever he wanted with it. His face had lit up like a five-year-old on Christmas morning. Now, after seven months, it was complete.

During his time at Matilda’s house, showing her plans, asking her to approve materials and costs, they had grown closer. They had been out to dinner on a few occasions and he’d spent the night once when his van wouldn’t start – in the spare room, of course. They’d shared a couple of kisses and although nothing had been said, there was an underlying agreement that things were moving, incredibly slowly, in the direction of them becoming a couple.

Matilda’s husband, James, had died from a brain tumour in 2015. He was the love of her life and she missed him every day. She had no intention of marrying again, and there wasn’t a single man on God’s earth who could come close to replacing him.

Daniel had been divorced for five years. His wife packed a bag and left one day without warning. He’d returned home from work to find a note on the kitchen table telling him she was incredibly unhappy, and she was leaving in order to find herself. He didn’t hear another word from her until nine months later when he received the divorce papers through the post. By that point, he was over her disappearance. He signed them without giving it another moment’s thought.

‘Would madam like to take a look around her charge?’

‘My charge?’ She smiled.

‘Surely you’re going to rent it out.’

‘I told you, I have no desire to be a landlady.’

‘You’ll change your mind once you’ve seen what I’ve done with it. It’ll be criminal to leave it empty.’ There was a twinkle in his eye.

Matilda couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. He led the way to the double garage with Matilda following. As she looked at the ornate brick work and newly tiled roof, she had to admit he’d done an amazing job.

Daniel was two years younger than Matilda at forty-two years old. He was six foot three, broad shouldered and built like a rugby player. He was solid and it was all muscle. He didn’t only design the buildings, he took a hands-on approach too and helped with the construction. He liked nothing more than getting his hands dirty on site.

He unlocked the oak door at the side of the building. They stepped in and Matilda inhaled the newness of freshly laid carpets and wood.

They were faced with a solid oak staircase with hand-carved spindles and newel post.

‘I’ve stolen some of the garage space to make a small utility room behind the stairs. You don’t need to see in there unless you have a fetish for boilers.’

‘I think I can by-pass that room.’

‘Up we go then.’

Daniel led the way. Matilda followed and had to bite her lip to stop her from thinking lewd thoughts when her eyeline landed on Daniel’s firm bum tightly wrapped in a pair of torn, dirty jeans.

The kitchen was larger than she had expected. An oak work top and matching cupboard fronts. A fitted fridge and cooker. A small hallway led to a cosy living room and through there, another small hallway led to two bedrooms, one master, one box room, and a compact bathroom. It had all the mod cons. Every space was utilised perfectly.

‘Daniel, I’m speechless,’ Matilda said, staring in awe.

‘It was a toss-up between fitted wardrobes in the master bedroom or a small en suite. I decided on the wardrobes.’

‘Good choice.’

‘You’ve got skylights, drop lights, sockets with USB ports, solar panels on the roof and the glass in the skylights is self-cleaning. I know the rooms aren’t huge, but I’ve added some fun details here and there for it to stand out above the norm, and those views are stunning.’

‘You’ve enjoyed spending my money, haven’t you?’ She smiled.

‘I really have. So, what are you going to do with the place?’

‘I have absolutely no idea.’

‘You could put it on Airbnb. With those views, people will be queuing up to spend a weekend here.’

‘And have complete strangers not ten yards from my bedroom? I don’t think so.’

‘Put an advert in the quality press then? I’m sure a junior doctor or a young lawyer would love to live in here.’

She thought for a moment. ‘I’ll think about it.’

‘Good. Well, I think we should celebrate, and I just so happen to have a bottle of champagne in my van.’

‘How convenient.’

‘Would you like to do the honours?’

‘What do you want me to do? Smash it over the front door like I’m launching a ship?’

‘And waste all that lovely alcohol?’ He stopped at the top of the stairs and turned to Matilda. ‘I was thinking, how about I cook for us tonight?’

‘Really?’ Matilda’s eyes widened. As much as she liked Daniel, she couldn’t get used to having a man in her life again, even if the situation between them was so casual it was almost comatose.

‘Yes. Nothing fancy, obviously, just a nice, light meal.’

He smiled and Matilda found herself unable to resist. His smile was infectious; it lit up his face and made his eyes sparkle.

‘I’d like that.’

‘Good. Erm …’

‘Yes.’

‘Would it … you know, I mean, would you mind …’ he looked at his shoes, his face reddened in embarrassment as he spluttered. ‘I’d like … if you don’t mind that is …’

‘Daniel, do you want to kiss me?’ Matilda asked. Her mouth dried as she felt her heart thumping loudly in her chest.

He looked up at her. ‘I would. Yes. Only if you want to.’

She took a tentative step forward and stretched her neck up, tilting her head until she was level with him.

He placed his hands on her arms and held her firmly. She felt a trickle of electricity run through her. He kissed her. His stubble pressed against her face. It was soft, gently passionate and awkward.

She felt a vibration in her pocket and pulled back.

‘Something wrong?’ he asked, a look of panic on his face.

‘No. My phone’s vibrating.’

‘Oh,’ he smiled.

She looked at the display and saw her colleague, DS Sian Mills was calling. Her pleasant evening with a handsome architect was ruined.

Chapter 4

2015 had not been a good year for Matilda Darke, professionally or personally. Once James had been diagnosed with a brain tumour, it had been a fast downward spiral. It wasn’t long before they were told his cancer was terminal and he had only a few months left to live.

Matilda decided to keep the news to herself. She didn’t want sympathy from her colleagues, offers to make her a casserole, or a bunch of flowers to cheer her up. Her sole task was to cherish the little time she and James had together, and at work, that meant acting as if everything was absolutely fine.

In the days before his death, seven-year-old Carl Meagan had been kidnapped from his home in Dore. His parents were away for the night in Leeds and he was being looked after by his maternal grandmother who was murdered by the kidnappers before they took Carl from his bed. The Meagans received a ransom demand for two hundred and fifty thousand pounds. As owners of a chain of successful organic restaurants throughout South Yorkshire, they were able to collect the money together and a date was fixed for the drop.

On the day of the trade, James Darke succumbed to his tumour and died in hospital with Matilda by his side. She told nobody and went to work in the afternoon as planned. Evening came, and she set off alone to Graves Park with a heavy bag full of money on the front passenger seat.

Looking back, she should have told her boss what was happening in her personal life. She should have taken compassionate leave and handed the case over to someone else. Her mind hadn’t been on the job and she had been in no fit state to work. Her eyes were blurred with tears as she drove through the dark streets of Sheffield and she headed for the car park, waiting for the call from the kidnappers. Unfortunately, she was in the wrong car park.

The kidnappers panicked and fled, taking Carl with them. Almost three years later, and neither Carl nor the kidnappers had been heard from since.

Carl would be eleven-years-old now and his mother refused to give up hope that one day he would be found. Matilda tried to continue, but it wasn’t easy. She was a changed woman and she believed she had Carl Meagan’s blood on her hands. There was no doubt in her mind that he was dead, that she’d failed the Meagan family. She would make sure it never happened again.

***

Following the phone call with Sian, Daniel realised tonight was not the night their relationship was going to take a leap in the right direction. He told Matilda to ring him and he left with the unopened bottle of champagne on the front passenger seat.

Matilda watched him go. She felt nothing for the ruined evening. There was only one thing on her mind – a child had been kidnapped for ransom. There was no way she could mess this case up. She’d let Carl slip through her fingers. She would stop at nothing to rescue a second child. Waiting for Sian to arrive was the longest twenty minutes Matilda had endured. Her mind went into overdrive as it came up with all kinds of scenarios based on the scant information her DS had given her. A child has been kidnapped. That was all Matilda needed to hear for the memories to come flooding back, to remove the hard work she had done over the past three years to restore her mental health. A child has been kidnapped. Who’d taken her? Why? What did they want? Was she already dead? Was Carl dead?

‘Jesus Christ,’ she said to herself as she bit down on her lip to stave off the tears. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. It was selfish of her to think this, but why was this happening to her again, just as she was getting her life settled. Finally.

A child has been kidnapped.

‘FUCK!’ Matilda screamed loudly. The expletive resounded off the walls.

The doorbell rang and she ran to the solid door and pulled it open. Sian was standing there. Her face was ashen.

‘Are you all right?’ Sian asked.

‘No,’ Matilda replied honestly. ‘Come on in. The kettle’s not long since boiled.’

Sian placed her bag on the oak table and pulled out the form she had filled in while at the Armitage house. Matilda told her to help herself to whatever she wanted in the fridge while she tore through the report.

Matilda looked at the photo. ‘Blonde hair and blue eyes. Just like Carl.’

‘That’s what I thought too. Even Finn put two and two together.’

‘Tell me about the Armitages,’ Matilda said, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

‘Well, they’re a complete contrast to the Meagans. For a start, they don’t live in a big house. They don’t own restaurants and I doubt they’ve got fifty grand in the bank.’

‘So why target them?’

‘You tell me,’ she shrugged. ‘I didn’t go into any details with them – the mother was practically hysterical; understandable, really – but they have a young son, Riley. He’s severely disabled by the looks of him. I’m guessing any bit of money they have gets spent on caring for him.’

‘So, they’re not rich, and don’t seem to have a lot of money?’

‘No. The ransom makes no sense at all.’

‘Have you contacted the phone company and checked that a call was definitely made?’ Matilda asked.

‘Yes. Finn did that. He emailed me when I was on the way over here. A call was made to the house at seven minutes past four. It lasted less than a minute.’

Matilda frowned. ‘If you’re going to kidnap someone for ransom, you target someone who has plenty of money.’

‘Maybe the kidnapper knows something we don’t.’

‘But if you had money stashed away and had a severely disabled child, you’d be spending it on them to give them a better life, wouldn’t you?’

‘That’s what I’d do.’

‘Precisely. Like you said, either the kidnapper knows something about the family we don’t, or, it’s a hoax.’

‘A hoax? Why would someone claim to have kidnapped a child when they haven’t?’

Matilda returned to biting her bottom lip. Her eyes darted left and right as she tried to think. ‘To cover up another crime, perhaps?’

Sian was about to take a sip of ice-cold water when she stopped, the glass touching her lips. ‘Such as?’

Matilda looked away.

‘Keeley already being dead?’ Sian asked.

‘It’s possible.’

‘What are the alternatives?’

‘Children are usually kidnapped by a parent if the parents are divorced or a family member, for some deep-seated reason. If it’s for ransom then the family are usually well off. If that’s not the case here, and, as you say, it isn’t, then someone is playing a very dangerous game.’

‘Does that make our job easier or harder?’

Matilda ignored Sian’s question. She went over to the window and looked out at the expansive garden, but she wasn’t looking at the view. She was thinking of this poor girl. She was thinking of Carl Meagan, and she was thinking of herself. If Keeley was dead, then it had happened before the police had even become involved. Nothing they could do would bring her back to the family. She couldn’t be blamed like she was blamed for Carl’s disappearance.

She closed her eyes softly and shook her head, hating herself for thinking of her own reputation. Keeley may already be dead, but if that was the case, her murderer was out there and needed catching and Matilda would move heaven and earth to catch the sick bastard.

Chapter 5

The role of the Family Liaison Officer is that of an investigator. They gather evidence and information from the family to contribute to the investigation. It is important for the FLO to gain the trust and confidence of the family members who are their main source of support during such a difficult time.

Detective Constable Ellen Devonport was ideal for this role. An experienced and well-respected DC, she had taken further training in order to make her invaluable to South Yorkshire Police. Whenever an FLO was needed, she wanted her name to be the first mentioned by the senior investigating officer.

Sian had given her the basics of the Armitage kidnapping. It was imperative she was circumspect upon her arrival in case whoever was holding Keeley was watching the house. On her approach to the house, she pulled over in her battered Fiat Punto, and made a call to Craig’s mobile, telling him who she was and to act like he knew her personally when she knocked on the door. She parked outside the house and headed up the garden path, taking long strides, and looking determined. She had purposely dressed down for the occasion. Ellen usually took pride in her appearance, always smartly dressed, enough make-up to look professional yet accentuate her best features, with her chocolate brown wavy hair glossy and shiny and bouncing with every step. For this occasion, she’d dressed in comfortable jeans, a baggy sweater and an old pair of Converse trainers. She’d tied her hair back into a loose ponytail and had a black rucksack that had seen better days over one shoulder.

She knocked on the door and stood back. It was opened almost straight away by a tired looking Craig Armitage.

‘Craig, how are you? I’ve just heard. I thought you could do with a friendly face,’ she said. She walked past him into the house and waited until he closed the door before she dropped the character.

‘Good evening, Mr Armitage,’ she held out a hand for him to shake and was surprised by how light his touch was. ‘I’m DC Devonport. Ellen. I’m the Family Liaison Officer. How are you all doing?’ Her accent was soft Geordie, friendly and light.

She turned around at the sound of a cough coming from the kitchen and saw Jodie standing in the doorway with her arms folded. Her eyes were red from crying.

Once Ellen had explained what her purpose was for being here, Craig and Jodie went their separate ways. Linda was in no fit state to talk. She had cried herself to sleep. Craig was keeping a constant vigil, while Jodie was taking care of Riley in his bedroom. Ellen went to join her.

‘I’m guessing he likes penguins,’ Ellen said, noticing the all the stuffed penguins and pictures of them on the walls.

‘Yes,’ Jodie replied as she changed his nappy. ‘Pingu is the only programme he seems to respond to. We’re not sure why. When it’s on, there’s a change in his facial expression. It’s like he’s genuinely happy.’

‘It must be difficult for you all.’

‘Not really. Mum and Dad told us to think of it like we have a baby who won’t grow up. He’ll get bigger, obviously – he’s quite heavy now – but we have to feed him, change him, clothe him, bathe him, and we’ll keep doing that for the rest of his life.’ She turned to look at her for the first time. ‘Our lives, too.’

Once she’d changed the nappy, Jodie dressed him in pyjamas. She struggled with the trousers as Riley kicked his legs, but she took control and he was soon ready for bed. She placed him in the specially equipped bed, put mittens on both hands so he wouldn’t hurt himself during the night, and lifted the bars so he wouldn’t roll out. She flicked a switch on the wall which turned on the soothing colour-changing light and left the room. Ellen followed.

‘Does he sleep through the night?’

‘No. He’ll wake up three or four times, sometimes more. He’ll scream and wail for hours. I sometimes think he’s trying to talk to us, to tell us something but we’re not able to understand him.’ She headed for the living room and slumped down on the sofa. When she looked up, she had tears in her eyes. ‘What are you doing to find Keeley?’ She asked.

Ellen sat on the armchair opposite. ‘At the moment, our primary concern is waiting for the kidnappers to make another call and give your parents more information.’

‘What if they don’t?’

‘They will. They’ve asked for money. They’ve given your parents twenty-four hours to get it. They’ll call back and arrange the exchange.’

‘We don’t have fifty thousand pounds,’ she said, wiping her eyes with her sleeves. ‘Every extra pound we get is spent on Riley. Dad has two jobs just to keep our heads above water.’

Ellen noticed how mature Jodie seemed for her age. She was fourteen years old, but acted and spoke like a woman double her age. She had a great deal to contend with at home; when did she had time to act like a normal teenager?

‘Leave that to us to sort out. DCI Darke and her team know exactly what they’re doing.’

‘I just keep thinking that we’re never going to see her again. That she’s going to disappear like Carl Meagan did.’

‘What happened to Carl was an extremely rare occurrence, Jodie.’ Ellen leaned forward on her chair. ‘There are still people looking for him. I’m very confident we’ll bring Keeley home.’ She smiled, hoping one would be returned. It wasn’t.

Jodie was about to say something when a scream was heard from Riley’s bedroom. She rolled her eyes, got up off the sofa, and dragged herself to his bedroom.

Ellen didn’t follow this time. She sat back and looked around the living room. Framed photographs on the wall showed the family in happier times at the beach, in parks, on rides. They were all smiles for the camera, but the smiles didn’t reach the eyes on any of them. The eyes told a different story. They’d gone to the beach for a fun day out as a whole family, but there was an underlying sense of something darker. Linda’s smile looked painted on; Craig’s looked painful. Jodie’s was the usual glare of a sullen teenager while Keeley’s was one of rote. Riley’s stare was emotionless and distant. Even when they were all together, enjoying the sun, they were not a happy family. Why was that?

Chapter 6

Sally Meagan couldn’t sleep. In the years since her only child had been missing, she had reached the very pits of despair, drowned herself in alcohol, contemplated ending her own life, anything to end the pain she was feeling that she’d failed her son in the one task a mother has – to protect her child at all costs.

She’d written a book about her experience of a missing persons investigation and the anxiety of not knowing where her child was or what had happened to him. She’d hoped it would be cathartic, to release all the pent-up emotions she was going through. It hadn’t worked. The book had sold well in England, and around the world. Carl’s picture was everywhere; surely someone knew where he was. All the book seemed to do was bring out the attention seekers, the so-called psychics, and the weirdos. Once again, Sally had hit rock bottom.

Earlier this year, she had received a series of phone calls from a child saying he was Carl and wanted to come home. They had, briefly, given her a glimmer of hope, but they stopped as soon as they had started. Were they really from Carl? At the time she’d thought so, but, looking back, the voice hadn’t been at all like Carl’s. Once again, it was some sicko looking for a laugh. As much as she relied on the public to help her find her son, with each passing day she loathed them more and more.

Help had come from an unlikely source. Matilda Darke. The very woman who had screwed up the ransom drop and allowed her son to disappear from the face of the earth had offered words of comfort, and an ally in the form of retired detective Pat Campbell. Between the three of them, they spent their spare time formulating ideas, plans, features, anything to keep Carl in people’s minds in the hope of finding him and bringing him home.

There had been many reported sightings of him in Sweden. Sally wanted to fly out there, scour the country for him, but Pat and Matilda, and her husband Philip, were against the idea. Carl was a blond-haired, blue-eyed boy. He fitted the Swedish make-up. It would be a futile journey and would do nothing for Sally’s already fragile mental health.

Philip was the stronger of the two. He always had been. He coped with the loss of his son by diving into work. Philip was always behind the scenes, creating menus with the chefs, keeping the books in order and making sure they had the best suppliers, while Sally was front of house. She kept the staff in line, ensured the restaurants were clean and tidy and the customers happy. After Carl’s disappearance, she lost interest and stayed at home, waiting for the phone call that would tell her Carl had been found, or an email with a clear image of her son, a few years older, but perfectly healthy and in the hands of officials who were bringing him home. Days went by, then months, then years, and the call didn’t come. Sally realised she would have to move on. She could not spend the rest of her life looking for one child in a world of seven billion.

She flung back the duvet and swung her legs out of bed. It was a little after two o’clock and she hadn’t been to sleep yet. She’d finished reading the David Nicholls book she’d enjoyed but wasn’t in the mood to start another. She put on her dressing gown in the dark and headed out of the room. There was no need to tip-toe; after a long day at work Philip could be in the paddock of a Formula One track and he’d still nod off.

The bedroom door was always ajar. Woody, their golden Labrador, bought for Carl as a birthday present, slept on the floor in their bedroom. However, the next morning, they’d find him outside Carl’s room, curled up. He missed him immensely and hadn’t barked once since his best friend had gone.

As Sally left her room and headed for the stairs, there he was on the floor, keeping guard.

He opened his eyes and lifted his head at the sound of movement.

‘Hello Woody, can’t you sleep either?’ Sally said in a loud whisper. She bent down and scratched behind his ear. ‘I’m going for a cup of tea. Would you like a Bonio?’

He seemed to understand the B-word as he jumped up and trotted downstairs, tail wagging.

In the kitchen, Sally turned the light on above the oven to give the room a warm glow and flicked on the kettle. From the small cupboard next to the fridge, she took out a Bonio. Woody sat, gave her a paw without having to be asked, took it gently from her, and ran to his bed in the corner of the room. The sound of his teeth demolishing the biscuit filled the silence.

Sally had left her phone plugged in to charge in the kitchen. She unplugged it and began to scroll through the news stories on the BBC News app. There was nothing of great interest. She logged on to Facebook. Her heart sank at the lack of notifications. This was the third day in a row without some form of communication about a sighting of Carl, or even a well-wisher saying she was in their prayers. People were forgetting all about him. She opened the Twitter app and saw that Sheffield was trending. That rarely happened.

@JoArm: My 9yo sister was kidnapped this afternoon around 4pm. We’ve had a ransom demand. If anyone knows anything, tell us. We love her. We miss her. #FindKeeley #Sheffield

@SusieQT: Girl missing in #Sheffield is Keeley Armitage. My kid is in her class at Mary Croft. Parents in pieces. #FindKeeley

@JillRice: Girl in #Sheffield missing since yesterday. Really eerie out there right now. #FindKeeley #Sheffield #Stannington

@Blades379: Keeley is a lovely girl. Always happy and smiling. Why can’t people let kids be kids? #FindKeeley #Sheffield

@SheffGirl21: I saw Keeleys mum. She was screaming for her in street. Heartbreaking. #FindKeeley #Sheffield

The kettle boiled. Sally ignored it. It was happening again. Another child had been kidnapped in Sheffield. She had no idea what this meant, but suddenly, the hope of finding Carl grew a little stronger.

‘Philip,’ she said. She looked up, remembered it was dark and the middle of the night. ‘Philip!’ she shouted and ran out of the room. She took the stairs two at a time, almost falling over Woody who was following, and ploughed into the bedroom.

She turned on the main light and jumped on the bed.

‘Philip. Philip.’ She shook him hard. ‘Wake up.’

He mumbled under the duvet and eventually scrambled his way out of his comfortable cocoon. He opened his eyes and squinted at the brightness.

‘What’s up? What time is it?’

‘It doesn’t matter what time is it. Look at this,’ she showed him the phone.

‘Hang on. I can’t see a thing.’ He took his time sitting up and picked up his glasses from the bedside table. He noticed the time on the alarm clock. ‘Sally, it’s not even half two yet.’

‘I know.’

‘Have you even been to sleep?’

‘No. Look, Philip, please, just look at this,’ she said, annoyed.

He scrolled through the phone, reading the postings on Twitter while Sally provided him with a running commentary.

‘A nine-year-old girl has been kidnapped in Stannington. Her sister has been posting on Twitter asking if anyone’s seen her. She’s put up pictures of her too. The family have been asked for a ransom. She hasn’t said how much, though.’

‘So?’ Philip said, looking up at his wife.

‘Don’t you see what this means?’

‘No.’

‘Philip, how many people get kidnapped for ransom in this country?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘Not very many. Yet here we are, in Sheffield, and we have the second kidnap for ransom in four years. That’s not a coincidence.’

‘You don’t seriously think that the same people who took Carl have taken this … what’s she called …?’

‘Keeley. Keeley Armitage, and yes, I do.’ Her face had lit up.

‘But … why?’

‘I don’t know. But don’t you see, this is fresh evidence. If the police find Keeley, they’ll find Carl.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘I do.’

‘Sally, please, don’t get your hopes up.’

‘It’s too late for that,’ she said, jumping down off the bed.

‘Where are you going?’

‘To phone Matilda. She’s bound to be working on this.’

‘You’re not phoning her at this time of night.’

‘Oh. No, you’re right. She’ll need her sleep so she’s fully alert. I’ll wait until morning.’

‘No,’ he said firmly.

‘What?’

‘Matilda is going to have her hands full. If you have to call anyone, ring Pat. Let her deal with this.’

Sally thought about this for a moment. ‘Fine. You’re right. Pat will be able to get to Matilda much sooner than I can.’

‘Good. Now, come on, get back to bed.’

Reluctantly, Sally placed her phone on the bedside table and got into bed.

‘Philip, just think, we could have Carl home in a few days.’

Chapter 7

Ellen Devonport was struggling to get comfortable on the sofa bed in the living room. She was used to a king-size bed, a memory-foam mattress and a hunky paramedic to snuggle up to. A rickety aluminium frame that squeaked every time she turned over and a mattress the thickness of a cream cracker was not ideal for a good night’s sleep. It didn’t help that she could hear Riley wailing in the next room.

She wondered why nobody got up to tend to him, or were they supposed to leave him in the hope he’d tire himself out and fall asleep? She turned over, put the thin pillow over her head and closed her eyes. It was going to be a long night.

A noise woke her up. She wasn’t fully asleep, but the sound of a door opening and closing made her sit up. She looked at the time on her phone: it was a little after three o’clock. She sat in silence and listened intently. Riley had fallen asleep. But there was something else, too. Somebody was moving around downstairs.

It was only natural that the family wouldn’t be able to sleep. They’d be worried sick about where Keeley was, what had happened to her, and who had taken her. Maybe Linda or Craig had got up to make a drink. They might appreciate a stranger to talk to, a friendly shoulder to cry on.

Ellen pushed back the duvet. She felt the cool night on her bare legs. She pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and slipped her feet into the slippers she’d brought with her. She put a sweater on over her T-shirt and crept out of the room.

The kitchen was in darkness. She didn’t turn on the light and tried not to make a sound. She hoped Riley was a heavy sleeper and didn’t want to wake him up in case he didn’t go back to sleep and spent the next few hours crying out.

The dining room and kitchen had once been two separate rooms but had clearly been remodelled to accommodate Riley and his wheelchair. The sound of whoever was up was coming from around the dining area. Ellen carefully walked through the kitchen and flicked on the light.

Linda jumped. ‘Jesus, you scared the shit out of me,’ she said in a loud whisper. She was bent over the dresser, rummaging through the drawers.

‘I’m sorry. I heard movement. I thought someone might be up and want to talk.’

‘No. I’m fine,’ she said, turning back to the open drawers.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Just looking for something.’

‘Can I help?’

‘No.’

‘Would you like me to make you a cup of tea?’

‘No. Ah, here it is.’ She pulled a folder out of the drawer and sat down at the dining table. ‘Can you pass me a pad and pen from the top drawer in the kitchen? It’s the drawer under the kettle.’

Ellen obliged. ‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m wondering how we can raise the fifty thousand pounds for the kidnappers. We’ve got three thousand in the holiday account and just under four thousand in a savings account. Craig did a sponsored run a few weeks ago. He raised over a grand. That’s about eight thousand.’ Linda’s eyes were wide and staring. She wrote quickly on the pad with a shaking hand. She was frantically flicking through the folder of bank statements. ‘There’s two grand in the current account, that’s ten. See, it is doable.’

Ellen pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Linda, stop. You need to go to bed and get some sleep.’

‘I can’t sleep. I need to be doing something,’ she tucked her greasy hair behind her ears. ‘We could sell something.’ She looked at her hand. ‘Craig’s grandmother gave him this wedding ring to give me. It’s an antique. What do you think it’s worth?’ She held out her hand to Ellen. ‘Do you know much about jewellery?’

‘Erm, no. Perhaps I should go and get Craig.’

‘It’s got to be worth a couple of thousand, at least,’ she said, ignoring Ellen. ‘I’ll put down fifteen hundred to be on the safe side and anything extra is a bonus.’

Ellen got up from the table and edged out of the dining room.

‘Now, what else have I got? My mum gave me a necklace for my twenty-first. It’s not old but it’s real gold. We might get a couple of hundred for it. Where are those premium bond certificates?’ She said, pulling sheets of paper out of the folder and scattering them around the table.

‘Linda, what are you doing?’ Craig asked. He stood in the entrance to the dining room wearing a black T-shirt with a tatty dressing gown hanging off his shoulders.

‘Craig, how new is your van? What do you think you’d get for it in a quick sale?’

‘Linda, I need that van for work.’

‘We need the money to get Keeley back.’

He pulled out a chair and sat down next to Linda. He took her hand. ‘Linda, listen to me, we don’t have that amount of money.’

‘We have things to sell?’

‘Not fifty grand’s worth of stuff.’

‘We can empty the bank accounts, cash in the premium bonds and the life insurance policies. I’ll phone our Adam in Dublin; he’ll lend us some money. We can easily raise fifteen, maybe even twenty grand that way.’

‘And where are we going to get the other thirty?’

Her eyes darted rapidly from side to side as she thought. ‘I don’t know. Maybe we can get a loan from the bank, or a second mortgage on this place. Maybe we can release some equity.’ She reached out and grabbed for Craig, pulling on his sleeves.

‘There’s no equity left in this place. We released all we could when we did the alterations.’

‘Aren’t there some companies who buy your house and rent it back to you? I know we won’t get anywhere near the market value, but it’ll be more than fifty thousand.’

‘Linda don’t do this,’ Craig said softly.

‘We need her back, Craig,’ she said urgently. ‘I don’t care how we do it, but we’re getting her back.’

‘We advise people not to pay ransom demands,’ Ellen said, stepping forward. ‘If you pay and they disappear with the money, they’ll do it again, and who knows how much further they’ll take it next time. Kidnapping is a form of terrorism and we don’t negotiate or give in to terrorist’s demands.’

‘So why are you even here then?’ Linda shouted, jumping up from her seat. ‘What’s the fucking point of you if when the kidnappers call we tell them to stuff their money and hang up? You’re supposed to be on our side and if we can get the fifty grand we’ll pay it.’

‘Linda, calm down,’ Ellen said quietly.

‘Calm? Calm? How the fuck do you expect me to be calm?’ she exploded. ‘My daughter is missing. She’s out there, somewhere, terrified to death because some pervert’s got his hands on her. She’s never spent a night away from us before. She’ll be scared, frightened, and all you’re doing is telling me to calm down and have a fucking cup of tea.’

Ellen opened her mouth to say something, but Linda cut her off.

‘Don’t tell me what to do,’ she screamed. ‘Don’t tell me how to behave and how to feel. I want my little girl back. I don’t care what the police say.’ Tears began to stream down her face. She choked on her words.

Craig held his arms out and Linda fell into them.

‘I want her back, Craig. We need to do whatever we can to get her back home.’

‘I know, sweetheart. We will.’

‘Mum?’

Ellen turned around to see Jodie standing in the doorway. Her face was a map of worry. Her eyes full of tears. In a nightie and dressing gown, with her hair a tangled mess, she looked younger than her fourteen years and vulnerable.

‘I can’t stand not knowing where she is,’ Linda cried. ‘I can’t …’ Her words were lost to her tears as she fell out of her husband’s arms and onto the floor. She opened her mouth and let out a scream so loud and painful the whole neighbourhood must have heard it.

‘What do I do?’ Craig asked, looking, helplessly to Ellen.

‘I think we should call a doctor. She may need sedating.’

‘I don’t need sedating,’ she screamed. ‘I just—’ She stopped dead.

‘What is it?’

Her eyes were darting left and right. It was as if a switch had been flicked inside her brain. ‘Nothing,’ she said before standing up and heading out of the room. ‘I just … you’re right. Ellen. I’m sorry for snapping. I need to get some sleep. We all do.’

All three watched, open-mouthed, as Linda went from hysterical to calm in record time.

‘What just happened?’ Craig asked, mystified.

‘I’ve no idea,’ Ellen frowned.

‘There is a way,’ Linda said to herself as she padded back up the stairs. ‘They’ll let me have the money. They won’t want to see someone go through what they went through. They’ll be only too happy to help.’

Chapter 8
Tuesday 11th September 2018

Linda tried to stay awake. Ideally, she wanted her husband to fall asleep so she could get up and sneak out of the house. They lay in bed next to each other, not touching, and she listened intently to his breathing, waiting for it to slow and deepen. It didn’t, and she fell asleep before Craig did.

When she eventually woke, daylight was creeping behind the curtains and Craig’s side of the bed had already been made. She looked at the time on her phone. It was a little after six o’clock.

She threw back the duvet and swung her legs out of bed. The clothes she had been wearing yesterday were littering the floor where she had dropped them after undressing. As silently as possible, she pulled on the jeans and the wrinkled sweater, slipped into a pair of Converse and padded carefully down the stairs.

In the hallway, she could hear Craig and Ellen chatting quietly in the kitchen. How long was she going to be here for? She checked her pocket for keys, mobile phone and her purse, then headed for the front door. Once she was at the end of the road and out of sight of the house, she’d call for a taxi.

***

Sally Meagan ate her muesli and drank her black coffee under the watchful eye of her golden Labrador. He knew that as soon as she was finished, she’d fetch his lead, put on her walking shoes, and they’d head out for half an hour or so. He patiently sat by her side, ears alert, eyes wide, waiting. Waiting.

The moment Sally stepped down from the stool at the breakfast table, Woody jumped up and followed her out of the room, tail wagging, tongue lolling and as excited as a child in a chocolate factory.

As usual when Sally left the house, she locked the door, looked up to the concealed camera above the entrance, and headed for the gates at the bottom of the drive. The Meagans were very security conscious and following Carl’s kidnapping they’d surrounded the property with a high wall and cameras. She entered the code on the keypad that only she and Philip knew and waited until the gates were closed behind her before setting off on her walk.

Woody was a well-behaved dog. He missed Carl so much, but he had adapted to Sally being his primary carer, his replacement owner, and he listened to her commands as she kept him on a short lead, and they walked down the quiet, narrow pavement.

It had been a long, hot summer, but as soon as August dissolved into September, it seemed that nature had decided to be begin autumn straight away. It was noticeably cooler in the area and the leaves had lost their shine. They were already beginning to die. It wouldn’t be long before they turned brown and dropped off. Sally loved the autumn; the colours, the crisp, cool smell in the air, the nights drawing in, fewer people out and about smiling and enjoying themselves. People tended to stay indoors as the weather turned. There was a sense that life was on pause until next spring.

‘Mrs Meagan?’

Sally jumped at the sound of her name. She turned around and saw a woman a few feet behind her in jeans and a sweater. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail. She wore no make-up and looked unwashed and shattered, as if sleep had eluded her for weeks. She looked haunted, frightened.

Sally didn’t say anything. She had no idea who this woman was, but she obviously knew her. Woody, placid and playful, would, hopefully, come to her aid if needed.

The woman stepped forward.

‘I’m sorry to confront you like this. I hate myself for coming to see you, but I have nowhere else to go and I’m desperate.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t think …’

‘Please,’ she interrupted, again, taking another step forward. ‘Please, let me say what I’ve got to say, or I’ll never say it. I’m Linda Armitage. My nine-year-old daughter was kidnapped yesterday. The kidnappers called and said they want fifty thousand pounds. We don’t have that kind of money. We don’t have anywhere near that amount. I spent most of the night making a list of what we could sell, but I only totalled it up to around twenty thousand, if that. I need my daughter back,’ she said, wiping away tears. ‘I’m not asking you to give me the money, but I was hoping you’d lend it to me. I’ll pay you back, a little each month, with interest. I don’t know who else to turn to.’

Linda was desperate, that much was obvious. Her rambling, her tears, her knotting her fingers together were all signs of a woman on the edge.

‘I read about your daughter on Twitter last night. I’m terribly sorry for what you’re going through.’ Linda proffered a weak smile. ‘If there was anything I could do, I would.’

‘You could let me have the money,’ she said, holding out her hand as if Sally had fifty grand in her back pocket instead of a roll of poop sacks.

‘I don’t have it.’

‘The kidnappers wanted two hundred and fifty thousand for your Carl. You had that in a bag for the ransom drop. I’ve read the book.’ Linda’s face turned red with rage.

‘I know. We did that against the police’s advice. They told us not to pay the ransom. Kidnapping for ransom is a form of terrorism and the police don’t give in to terrorist demands. We went against their will and look how that turned out for us. We lost Carl.’

A tear rolled down Sally’s face and she didn’t wipe it away.

‘The worst thing you can do is pay the ransom demand.’

‘But I need my Keeley back.’ She fumbled for her phone, unlocked it and swiped through the menus until she found a photo. She held it out for Sally to see. ‘Look how beautiful she is. Look how sweet and innocent she is. Do you have any idea what may be happening to her right now?’

‘Yes, I do, because I’ve thought of the exact same things happening to Carl.’

‘I’m begging you, Mrs Meagan, as one mother to another, please, help me.’

‘I’m sorry. I can’t.’

Sally turned to walk away. She wanted to go back home. The one shred of hope she’d felt last night had been obliterated as the memory returned of walking into her home, seeing her mother dead and her son missing. It never really went away, but it was locked up, deep in the recesses of her mind. Now, the door had been flung wide open, and everything came back.

‘We’ve got your son, Sally. We want two hundred and fifty thousand pounds or we sell him to the highest bidder.’

‘We don’t have that kind of money.’

‘Let’s not play these games, Sally. Stop listening to the police and listen to me. Get the money sorted or your pretty little boy ends up in some paedo’s basement.’

‘You can’t?’ Linda screamed. ‘What do you mean, you can’t? I’ve seen the house you live in. I’ve read about all the restaurants you have and the number of staff you employ. You seemed to come up with the quarter of a million for your son easily enough, but you won’t give me fifty thousand?’

‘You need to talk to the police, Mrs Armitage,’ Sally said, walking quickly away. ‘They will advise you every step of the way. I’m sorry.’ The tears were rapidly falling. She wanted Carl back more than anything in the world. She’d sell the house, her jewellery, the restaurants, everything, but she couldn’t get caught up in someone else’s drama. She wasn’t strong enough for that.

Linda didn’t give chase. ‘You’re heartless, do you know that?’ She shouted after her. ‘You’re hurting and in pain because you didn’t get your son back, I understand that, but to put other families through the same thing when you’re in a position to help makes you one evil bitch.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said quietly to herself as she pulled hard on Woody’s lead for him to keep up with her. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.’

Chapter 9

Matilda looked at herself in the mirror in the hallway. She was looking old. A sleepless night of tossing and turning, her mind a whirl of missing children and the dark nightmare of what they were going through, had taken its toll. She had black circles beneath her eyes, more wrinkles seemed to have appeared during the hours of darkness, and it didn’t matter what she did with her short dark hair it stuck out in random places.

There was a knock on the door. She opened it to see Sian standing on the doorstep, looking in a similar state of distress.

‘The more I look at myself in the mirror, the more I see my mother staring back at me,’ Matilda said.

‘I’ve given up looking in mirrors. When you’ve got four kids – five if you count my Stuart – then people expect you to look a mess,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘You don’t look like you’ve slept much.’

‘I haven’t.’

‘No. Me neither. I had a call from Ellen Devonport about half seven, too.’

‘Oh.’

‘Linda Armitage sneaked out of the house. She came back, slammed the door behind her and went straight upstairs. She wouldn’t talk to anyone.’

Matilda frowned. ‘Where had she been?’

‘They don’t know.’

‘How long had she been out?’

‘They don’t know that either.’

***

Sian drove with Matilda in the passenger seat, looking at her reflection in the small mirror in the visor.

‘You’d think people would prepare you for old age, tell you about the lines on your forehead and crow’s feet.’

‘You’re only forty-f—’

‘Don’t say the f-word,’ Matilda interrupted.

‘My Stuart says wrinkles are a sign of a life well lived.’

‘Do you believe him?’

‘I believed him when he said having four kids would be fun. Silly sod. I also believed him when he said he’d help out if we had a big party for our silver wedding anniversary.’

‘How are the preparations going?’

‘Slowly. He’s full of ideas but he expects me to put them into action.’

‘Typical.’

‘I’m on the internet all night trying to find someone to make an ice sculpture while he’s flicking through Sky. He’s about as much use as a condom machine in a monastery.’

‘An ice sculpture? Really?’

‘I know. Tacky isn’t it? I’m trying to put him off the idea.’

They turned off Stannington Road into Acorn Drive and pulled up outside the Armitage House. Craig’s dirty Mercedes Sprinter was parked in the driveway.

Sian made to get out of the car while Matilda stayed and stared at the house.

‘What’s wrong?’ Sian asked.

‘This doesn’t look like the house of someone who has fifty grand to spare,’ she said, taking off her seatbelt.

It was still only early, and the pavements were littered with mums and dads taking their children to school. The faces of the parents were drawn and full of worry. It appeared that word had got out about Keeley’s disappearance.

Matilda and Sian received strange looks from passers-by as they made their way up the garden path. As much as they tried not to look like detectives, it wasn’t easy when everyone was glaring at them. Their job seemed to emanate from them. A few lingered to see how distressed Linda was when she opened the door. They were disappointed when it was Ellen – a face they had never seen before.

‘How are they all?’ Matilda asked.

‘As you’d expect. Craig’s decided to stay off work today and Jodie isn’t going to school.’

‘Good idea,’ Sian said.

‘Do you know where Linda went yet?’

‘No. She won’t tell us.’

‘Is she still in bed?’

‘No. She’s in the living room. They all are.’

‘Right. I’d better go and introduce myself,’ Matilda said.

Outside the living room door, Matilda paused and braced herself. She took a deep breath and knocked lightly before entering.

She was hit immediately by the dense atmosphere. Grim faces turned to look at her. Craig was sitting with Riley on his lap. Jodie was cross-legged in the armchair wearing her pyjamas and dressing gown. Linda was on the sofa, staring into space, her eyes wide and full of tears. It was happening all over again.

‘This is DCI Darke,’ Ellen said, making the introduction. ‘She’s going to be leading the investigation into finding Keeley.’

‘Darke?’ Linda asked. ‘As in Matilda Darke?’

‘That’s right,’ Matilda nodded.

‘Jesus Chris! We’re never going to get our Keeley back,’ she sobbed, pulling another tissue out of the box on the coffee table in front of her and wiping her red eyes. The table was littered with crumpled tissues. She stood up and went over to the window.

‘Linda!’ Craig admonished.

‘I mean it. Have you read this?’

From a bookcase behind her packed with paperbacks, Linda picked one from the third shelf and threw it with force at her husband. He batted it away so it wouldn’t hit Riley. It landed face up on the sofa. Matilda looked at it and saw the book written by Sally Meagan about her missing son. The smiling face of Carl in happier times looked up at her. Matilda’s heart sank. Neither she nor the South Yorkshire Police were painted in the best light. Since the book had been released, tensions between Matilda and Sally had eased slightly. They would never be best friends but there was a mutual respect for each other as they worked together to try and find out what had happened to Carl.

‘Yes, I’ve read it. Not every case can be solved, love, you know that. That doesn’t mean to say she can’t find our Keeley. I’m sorry,’ he said to Matilda.

Matilda gave a pained smile as she shrunk into herself and edged back towards the door.

‘Don’t apologise for me,’ Linda said. ‘Can we request another detective?’ She asked, looking to Sian.

‘Linda,’ Ellen began, her voice quivering slightly. ‘I can assure you that DCI Darke is the best person to be working on this case. She is the finest detective within South Yorkshire Police, and she will leave no stone unturned in finding your daughter.’

‘Then why isn’t she then? Why aren’t any of you out there turning over these stones?’ She turned to look out of the window. ‘Where are the police cars? Where are the helicopters?’

‘It’s not as simple as that, Mrs Armitage. We need to go through exactly what happened.’

‘I explained all this last night. Don’t you lot communicate with each other?’ she asked. She was visibly shaking, and beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. ‘My daughter is missing. She’s been taken, kidnapped, and you need to find her.’

‘We are doing everything—’

‘In our power,’ she interrupted. She spoke with pure venom.

‘Linda, why don’t you come and sit down,’ Craig said.

‘I don’t want to fucking sit down,’ she exploded. ‘I can’t sit around here drinking tea while God knows what’s happening to my daughter. If you’re not going to do anything, I’ll find her myself.’ She stormed out of the living room.

‘Mum,’ Jodie whimpered, tears streaming down her face.

Craig stood up. He handed Riley to Jodie and followed his wife out of the room.

Matilda, Sian, and Ellen stood awkwardly in the living room while voices were raised out in the hallway. Linda was spitting venom and saying harsh words about Matilda. She’d heard them all before, but it still hurt to hear them again.

Craig opened the door and stepped back in on his own. ‘She’s gone for a lie down,’ he said. ‘I really am sorry for what she said. She’s not usually like this.’

‘It’s perfectly understandable,’ Matilda said, though she would be lying if she said it hadn’t hit a raw nerve. Matilda sat on the sofa next to Craig. ‘I know you and Linda answered a lot of questions with DS Mills last night, but I’d like to ask some of my own.’

‘That’s fine,’ he nodded. Craig looked shattered. His eyes were barely open and fatigue was evident in the slow way he moved.

‘The kidnapping,’ Matilda began. ‘As I’m sure you’re aware, kidnappings don’t happen very often in this country. Is there a chance someone could be playing a prank?’

‘A prank? No. No. Of course not. Who would do something like that?’

‘Ok. Is there anyone you can think of who may have a grudge against you?’

‘No,’ he replied quickly.

‘Have you had any arguments or fights with anyone lately?’

‘No.’

‘Has anything out of the ordinary happened to any of you recently to bring unwarranted attention?’

‘No!’ He snapped.

‘Have you, or anyone, noticed anyone hanging around the house, any strange phone calls, emails or texts?’

‘No. Nothing.’

Matilda adjusted herself on the uncomfortable sofa. It was infuriating the way people lived in their own bubble, unaware of what was happening in the real world. Until something outlandish like a kidnapping happens, the signs of a stranger lurking in the shadows are rarely seen. Why didn’t people open their bloody eyes more? ‘Craig, do you have the fifty thousand pounds asked by the kidnappers?’

‘No, we don’t,’ he said, running his fingers through his messy hair.

‘In cases like this, when someone is kidnapped for ransom, the kidnappers know the family is able to raise that kind of money.’ She immediately thought of the Meagans and their lavish lifestyle. ‘Can you think of anyone who would think you can get your hands on fifty thousand?’

‘No,’ he said, getting up from the sofa and going over to the window. He turned back to Matilda. ‘Look, we’re just a regular, normal family. We’re not rich. We don’t go on expensive holidays. We don’t drive big cars. I’m working two jobs to try and keep us solvent. I work seven days a week to provide for my family. There are times when I don’t see my kids for days because I’m out before they get up and I don’t come home until they’re in bed,’ he was struggling to keep hold of his emotions. ‘We don’t have a spare fifty quid let alone fifty grand.’

‘Dad,’ Jodie whimpered. She held out her hand and he took it, perching next to her on the armchair.

‘We’re not rich. We’re not famous. We’re just an ordinary family trying to survive in this bastard of a world,’ he cried.

Matilda looked at Ellen and nodded slightly towards Jodie.

‘Jodie, why don’t you and I go and feed Riley. It must be past his breakfast time by now.’

‘Dad?’ She asked, looking at her father with wet eyes.

‘It’s ok, love, you go and feed your brother.’

Matilda waited until they were all out of the living room before she spoke. Sian had joined her on the sofa.

‘Craig, I’m sorry for the questions I’m asking. I’m just trying to find out who would have taken your daughter.’

‘It’s fine. I know you’re only doing your job. It’s just … I feel so helpless.’

‘That’s understandable. Craig, where were you when your wife called you yesterday to say Keeley had gone missing?’

‘It was Amanda from next door who called me. I was in Chesterfield making a delivery. I’ve got an app on my phone that will confirm it.’

Quick with an alibi. ‘Thank you. I hope you didn’t mind me asking.’

‘No.’

‘Where did your wife go this morning?’

‘I don’t know. She wouldn’t tell me.’ Again, he replied too quickly for Matilda’s liking.

‘Ok. Is Keeley the type of person to go off with a stranger?’

It was a while before Craig answered. ‘I’d like to think not. We’ve told her about the danger of talking to strangers, but, some of these sick bastards are very manipulative, aren’t they?’

‘I’m afraid so. Are your daughters on any social networking sites?’

‘Isn’t everyone? Jodie’s on the lot, I think. Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, Snapchat. I keep telling her, it’s called social media, which means you have to be social and not spend the evenings staring at your tablet.’

Matilda smiled. ‘And what about Keeley?’

‘She’s on Snapchat. Our Jodie got her interested in it. She keeps taking selfies and putting dog ears on them or something. I don’t see what all the fuss is about.’

‘Me neither,’ Sian butted in. ‘I’ve got four kids and they’ve all tried to get me on Instagram and Twitter. I can’t think of anything worse.’

‘Have they mentioned being contacted by anyone they didn’t know?’ Matilda asked Craig.

‘Everyone’s a stranger on social media. I’ve told the girls time and time again that they don’t know who they’re talking to. Their profile picture might be that of a fourteen-year-old girl, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a fifty-year-old pervert typing the messages. Wait, you don’t think Keeley’s been contacted through these sites?’

‘At this stage, I’ve no idea. We will need to look at all their activity online.’ Matilda leaned forward. ‘Craig, I know I’m probably the last person you and your wife want to look for your daughter after the Carl Meagan investigation. However, I am very good at my job and I have an exceptional team of officers around me. We will do everything in our power to find Keeley and bring her home.’

Craig nodded and offered a weak smile. ‘Thank you.’

Matilda paused as she studied Craig. His face was a map of angst and worry, and he seemed genuinely distraught at not knowing where his daughter was, but there was something niggling away at Matilda’s brain telling her there was something odd in this household. When Carl went missing, there was no doubt in her mind he’d been kidnapped and the request for a ransom was genuine. Here, she couldn’t quite work out what was going on. Not yet, anyway.

‘We’ll need to look at any laptops, computers, tablets and phones that belong to you all.’

‘Of course. Take anything you think will help.’

‘Thank you. Would it be possible to look around Keeley’s bedroom before we go?’

‘Sure. Listen, can I ask you a personal question?’ Craig asked.

Matilda knew what was coming. She took a deep breath. ‘Of course.’

‘Why didn’t you find Carl Meagan?’

***

Matilda led the way with Sian following. As they reached the first floor landing, they could hear muffled sobbing coming from one of the bedrooms, obviously Linda. The atmosphere in the house was heavy and was getting darker as each minute ticked by without them knowing where Keeley was.

Keeley’s bedroom door was wide open. The carpet was a plush pink and the walls – what could be seen behind the posters of Disney films – were painted a warm pink. This was the bedroom of a typical nine-year-old girl. The single duvet cover was from Frozen, showing a beautiful princess and a smiling snowman. There were fairy lights around the headboard, soft toys on the bed, and Disney books on the shelves. Beneath the window was a desk. Her pink tablet was plugged in and charging.

‘I thought you answered Craig’s questions very well,’ Sian said quietly. ‘It couldn’t have been easy for you.’

‘It wasn’t. I thought he deserved the truth. I’m sure his eyes glazed over once I started waffling.’

‘Mat,’ she said, putting her hand on her arm. ‘Are you going to be ok leading this investigation? I mean, it’s going to bring back memories of Carl, but it’ll bring back memories of James, too.’

‘It already is. I like to think I’m a stronger person than I was three years ago. However, if I find myself not coping, I’ll step down. I promise you.’

Matilda had no intention of stepping down and handing over the case to a lesser detective. In the years since Carl disappeared she’d studied kidnapping cases and read dozens of psychological reports on kidnappers and their motives. If anyone understood why someone stole a child, it was Matilda. It was time to put what she’d read to good use.

It wasn’t a large bedroom and due to the amount of stuff Keeley had, it was cluttered, but it was clean and tidy.

In the top drawer of the desk, Sian took out a sketch pad and began to flick through it.

‘Wow, she’s good,’ she said. ‘Her attention to detail is amazing for a girl so young. Look at these dresses.’

Matilda joined her at the desk. She looked over her shoulder at the drawings which looked more like something a fashion designer would create rather than a nine-year-old girl.

In the same drawer were packs of coloured pencils, all different shades and grades. She had all the tools needed to sketch her fashions. Matilda pictured her spending hours at this desk, looking out at the sprawling countryside from her window as Sheffield dissolved into Derbyshire, gaining inspiration for her designs.

‘She writes stories too. Listen to this: “Princess Keeley was locked in the tower. She spent her days sewing the gowns for her sisters to wear and plaiting their hair. She was sad and lonely and only ate what little food her nasty sisters gave to her through the small gap under the door. At night she looked out of the window. If the moon was full, it lit up the whole kingdom and she could see the big boats on the sea. She often fell asleep leaning against the windowsill as she waited for her prince to rescue her.” Oh dear,’ Sian said.

‘That’s very sad,’

‘Do you think that’s how she feels?’

‘It certainly sounds like it. Are there more like that?’

Sian flicked through the pages. ‘There are a few other stories. I’ll read them back at the station. These drawings are a bit worrying, though.’

‘In what way?’

‘They’re a bit … what’s the word … mature,’ Sian said. ‘Look at this one.’ The picture was of a dress; nobody was wearing it, but it was very low cut, the breasts were full and the split up the side was very revealing.

Matilda took the pad from her and studied the pictures. ‘A nine-year-old really shouldn’t be drawing clothes that reveal so much flesh. I mean, who is she designing these for? Is she picturing herself as having huge breasts?’

‘I’m not sure. Mind you, have you seen some of those Disney films? The animators certainly pay a lot of attention to putting the curves in all the right places,’ Sian said. ‘She’s probably only drawing what she’s watching on TV.’

‘She shouldn’t be sexualising herself at this age.’

‘Unless someone was telling her to.’

They both looked at the tablet in the centre of the desk.

***

Craig was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs.

‘Craig, does only Keeley have access to this tablet?’ Matilda asked in the hallway downstairs. She held up the tablet.

‘Yes. Well, it’s hers. We keep an eye on her while she’s using it.’

‘Does she use any other device in the house?’

‘No.’

‘We’re going to take this with us to go through, analyse social media, see who she was talking to. We’re also taking her story book too. She may have written something that could be useful. Sian’s writing you out a receipt.’

He nodded, biting his lower lip.

‘What do we do if the kidnapper calls before the twenty-four hours?’

‘He won’t, but we’re setting up a tap on your phone line. If there is anything you think of that might help in finding Keeley, please mention it to Ellen.’

‘Thank you,’ he said. He held out his hand for Matilda to shake.

She looked down at the large hand and placed hers inside his. His large fingers wrapped tightly around hers.

‘I know you’ll find her,’ he said, looking at her with wet eyes.

Matilda couldn’t reply. She nodded, removed her hand and headed for the hallway. She pulled open the front door and almost fell out. She inhaled deep breaths and slowly breathed out. It had been years since she’d had a panic attack. Try as she might, she couldn’t get Carl Meagan and everything she went through three years ago out of her mind. She didn’t want to return to those dark days.

‘Are you all right?’ Sian asked.

‘No.’ She shivered as a gust of wind blew around her. ‘No, I’m not.’ She headed for the car.

‘I’ll get Rory and Scott to search online and on social media,’ Sian said as she lowered herself in behind the wheel and put her seatbelt on. ‘We need to find out everything we can about the family. Like he said, they’re just a normal, regular, everyday kind of family. Why them?’

Matilda didn’t reply.

Sian started the engine. Matilda looked out of the window and back at the house. Craig was standing at the large living room window looking out at her. They made eye contact. Matilda offered a sympathetic smile, but it wasn’t returned. Craig continued to stare.

‘What are you thinking about?’ Sian asked when she glanced at Matilda and saw a heavy frown on her face.

‘It’s nearly always the father, isn’t it?’

‘What is?’

‘When a child goes missing or dies or something happens, it’s nearly always the father. What do you think of him?’

‘Craig? I get the feeling he’s screaming on the inside but trying to remain calm for Linda and the kids.’

‘You don’t suspect him?’

Sian thought for a moment. ‘No. I don’t think I do. Do you?’

Matilda remained silent. Until she found evidence to the contrary, she suspected everyone.

Chapter 10

While Matilda and Sian were at the Armitage house, DI Christian Brady was setting the Homicide and Major Enquiry Team to task. Until the kidnappers made their next move, there was very little they could do. However, in case the kidnapping was a hoax, a contingency plan was set up for the investigation into a missing child to begin. The first step was to contact everybody on the child sex offender’s register and find out their movements for the time Keeley disappeared.

‘Sir, I’ve been scrolling through Twitter and Jodie Armitage has been tweeting quite a bit since last night,’ DC Scott Andrews said. He stood in the doorway to Christian’s office.

He sighed. ‘I bloody hate social media. Thanks Scott, I’ll give Ellen a ring.’

‘I’ve just seen Sian’s car pull up in the car park.’

‘Right. We’ll need to get the briefing started. I’ll be right out. Scott, keep an eye on social media. Anything that sounds a bit dodgy, let me know.’

‘Will do.’

Christian stepped out of his office as Matilda and Sian entered the HMET suite.

‘How did it go?’ He asked.

Matilda rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t ask. Listen, is the ACC here yet? Her car isn’t in the car park.’

‘Oh. I’m not sure.’

Sian had made two strong coffees and handed one to her boss. It was greatly needed, and Matilda inhaled the caffeine before taking a sip. She could feel herself relaxing immediately.

She looked up at the whiteboard on the wall behind her. Keeley’s school photo was already at the top, smiling at the whole room.

‘Ok then, let’s begin …’

DS Aaron Connolly’s mobile rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, looked at the screen and silenced it. He mouthed ‘sorry’ to Matilda.

She continued. ‘We have a missing child to find. Keeley Armitage is nine years old. She lives in Acorn Drive, Stannington with her family. Parents are Craig and Linda and she has an older sister, Jodie, who is fourteen and younger brother Riley who is four. Keeley looks more or less as she does in the photo on the board. She’s four feet tall with shoulder-length curly blonde hair which she wears tied back in a ponytail. She is slim, has blue eyes and a fresh complexion and wears size two and a half shoe. When she went missing, she was wearing her school uniform, as seen in the photo, and a yellow lightweight coat and carrying a pink backpack with characters from the film Frozen on it.’

Scott was stood by the board adding the details as Matilda spoke.

‘The last person to see Keeley was her sister who told her to wait for her outside the Co-op on Oldfield Drive while she went inside to do some shopping.’

DC Rory Fleming, with a mouth full of Snickers, raised his hand and waved it about to get Matilda’s attention. He quickly chewed and swallowed. ‘Sorry, I missed breakfast. I’ve got the CCTV footage from the Co-op,’ DC Rory Fleming said. ‘Do you want to watch it now?’

‘No. Shall we wait until Keeley’s been found?’ Scott said. A ripple of laughter ran around the room.

Matilda pulled down a white projecting screen while Scott turned off the lights. Rory hammered away at his laptop and the image from the Co-op’s CCTV camera above the entrance appeared.

The picture was of high quality and showed shoppers entering and leaving the store. At 15:39, Jodie and Keeley walked towards the automatic doors. Keeley was licking an ice cream. Jodie knelt down, held her by the shoulders and said something to her before going into the store. A few minutes later, Keeley had finished her ice cream and walked off, disappearing out of shot.

‘Play it again,’ Matilda instructed.

The officers watched the footage for a second time in silence. When finished, Scott turned the lights back on.

‘It’s like she had no intention of waiting for her sister,’ Sian said.

‘That’s what I thought,’ Rory said.

‘Is she heading in the direction of home?’ Matilda asked.

‘She is.’

‘But she didn’t make it.’

‘No.’

‘Are there any other CCTV cameras on the route she should have taken?’

‘I’m afraid not.’

‘I didn’t think so. So, is this all we’ve got of her?’

‘Yes.’

‘Rory, take this to the tech department. See if they can zoom in on the people, clean it up and get some decent images. We can see most of the kids are wearing school uniform. If we can show this to the teachers, they may be able to identify the kids and we can ask them what they saw.’

‘Will do. Can I finish off my breakfast now?’

‘You may.’

Rory nodded then bit off another chunk of chocolate.

‘One more thing Rory.’

He almost choked which made the room roar with laughter. Even Matilda smiled.

Aaron’s phone rang again. ‘Sorry. I’ll turn it off.’

‘Someone’s popular,’ Sian said with a hint of a smile.

‘Scott, what did you manage to dig up on the family?’ Matilda asked.

‘There is a lot about the family online, especially the father, Craig Armitage.’ He went over to his laptop and projected images onto the screen showing various newspaper articles. ‘Craig does a great deal of charity work. He runs marathons, half-marathons, bike rides, abseils buildings, anything to help raise money for charity.’

‘Which charity?’

‘Well, at first it was to buy the specialist equipment they needed at home for Riley. They’ve had the doors widened downstairs to accommodate Riley’s wheelchair. The garage has been turned into a bedroom and en suite wet room for him, the garden has had to be adapted, and various other pieces of equipment he needs. None of it is cheap.’

‘Do we know what happened to Riley?’ Sian asked.

‘Yes. He developed epilepsy not long after he was born, and the seizures grew in strength. When he was one, he had one during the night while everyone was sleeping. He banged his head on the side of his cot, knocking him unconscious. His brain was starved of oxygen for too long for the damage to be repaired.’

‘The poor boy,’ DC Ranjeet Deshwal, who had recently become a father for the first time, said, putting his head down.

‘How did the family react to all this?’

‘According to the article I read, Craig talked about his wife and daughters rallying round and helping out. They come across as a close-knit family, but he’s going to say all that for a newspaper article, isn’t he?’

‘True. We need to chat to the neighbours, close friends and family; find out as much as we can about them,’ Matilda said.

‘I expect Linda feels guilty,’ Sian said.

‘How do you mean?’ Scott asked.

‘Well, when you’ve got young children, especially when they’re babies, you want to protect them, look after them. They’re vulnerable and rely on you,’ she said from experience as the mother of four children. ‘When they’re ill, especially with the condition Riley has, you’re even more protective. On the night his injury occurred, she’ll have been asleep and will have berated herself more than once for indulging in sleep while her child had stopped breathing. It’s natural.’

‘But it wasn’t her fault.’

‘That doesn’t stop her feeling guilty. You ask any parent of a child who injures themselves.’

‘So, how is Linda going to be feeling now?’ Scott asked. ‘Will she blame herself for allowing Keeley to be kidnapped?’

‘Judging by the state she was in yesterday and this morning, yes,’ Sian said. ‘She’s tried to protect all her kids, but most of her effort goes on Riley so she relies on Jodie to pick up the slack. Keeley’s gone missing, so Linda will be hating herself more.’

Matilda gazed out of the window overlooking the car park. She saw the dirty Land Rover belonging to ACC Masterson arrive. Matilda watched through the slats of the vertical blinds. The diminutive Valerie jumped down from the driver’s seat, slammed the door behind her and walked, lazily, towards the building. There used to be a bounce to her step. She was the assistant chief constable of South Yorkshire Police, a role she coveted. Now, everything had changed. Matilda recognised that look, that strolling gait.

The room had quietened. They were all waiting for Matilda.

‘Sorry,’ she apologised. ‘Now, as I was saying, we need to know everything about their routine, what’s going on in their lives. I know we don’t like to think this, but facts don’t lie, and the majority of the time, when a child goes missing, or is killed, it is by someone they know. Just because Craig does all this charity work and Linda is a doting mother doesn’t mean we don’t investigate them. I want everyone’s movements known for around the time Keeley went missing. Not just of the parents, but of the entire family too, that includes aunties, uncles, cousins, grandparents, great grandparents and third cousins twice removed. Until we know what happened to Keeley Armitage, everyone is a suspect. Is that clear?’

There were nods of ascent from around the room.

‘Good. Now, Sian, I’d like you to pay a visit to Keeley’s school. Find out what kind of child she was there – is she different from when she’s at home, was she being bullied, the usual. While you’re at the school, get a spare uniform and get it photographed. We need to try and get a similar jacket to the one she was wearing too. I’ll try and get Craig and Linda to do a television appeal later if this ransom demand doesn’t play out like it should.’

‘You don’t think she’s been kidnapped for ransom, do you?’ Aaron asked.

‘No, I don’t,’ she said, sitting on the edge of a desk. ‘When you kidnap someone for ransom, you choose a family who has plenty of money, like …’ She swallowed hard. ‘Well, like the Meagans. Yes, Craig has raised over half a million pounds, but you only have to read all these stories of him in the paper to know that he hasn’t put the money in his own bank account. It’s to buy special equipment for his son, or for the Children’s Hospital. He works two jobs, Linda doesn’t work. They don’t have that kind of money.’

‘Why would someone pretend they’ve kidnapped her when they haven’t?’ Scott asked.

‘To cover up what really happened to her,’ Matilda answered.

The room went silent while they all took in the implications of Matilda’s statement. Had Linda Armitage invented the kidnapping because she had killed her daughter?

‘But we’re not discounting the kidnapping completely?’ Aaron asked.

‘No. Nothing is being discounted until we have firm proof. I hope we’re monitoring all their calls.’

‘We are.’

‘Can I ask a very sensitive question?’ Rory asked.

Everyone turned to look at him, and his face reddened at the attention.

‘Go on,’ Matilda prompted.

‘I’m only asking this as we’re keeping an open mind on the whole kidnap thing, but, say she was kidnapped and there is someone out there waiting for fifty grand, do you think, that … well, what I mean is … is there …?’

‘Is it the same people who kidnapped Carl Meagan?’ Matilda finished his question for him.

‘Yes. Sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise, you’ve every right to ask. I’ve spent most of the night thinking that myself. Kidnaps for ransom are very rare in this country. Is it possible the people who kidnapped Carl are having another go? I really don’t know.’

‘But Carl’s kidnappers didn’t get their ransom money,’ Scott said.

‘No. But we don’t know what happened to Carl. I screwed up the ransom drop, and they got away with Carl. After that, who knows what they did to him. Maybe they sold him on and made their money that way. We don’t know.’

Matilda’s brow had wrinkled, and her face took on a look of sadness. The Carl Meagan case haunted her on a daily basis, and now it was happening again, just when she was getting her life back on track. This was a cruel twist, and Matilda knew she had to get it right. She could not allow her emotions to get the better of her, and if that meant upsetting the already fragile parents of Keeley Armitage to get some answers, then she was perfectly prepared to do so.

She looked up to find the whole room staring at her, waiting to hear what she was going to say next.

‘Right then,’ she clapped her hands together. ‘You’ve all got things to be going on with. Christian will give you your tasks. Get out there and find Carl—’ Then, ‘Fuck,’ she muttered under her breath.

‘Come on everyone, away from your desks. This is a police station, not a call centre,’ Christian said, covering his boss’s error. ‘I don’t want to see any of you in here until the evening briefing.

Matilda turned away from the room and headed for her makeshift office. She closed the door behind her and pulled the blind closed.

Her small office was a mess, as always. Every available surface was cluttered with files and paperwork; open cases, closed cases, cold cases, any information relating to a missing person somewhere in the world who bore a striking resemblance to how Carl would look now.

She slumped in her leather chair and pulled open the top drawer of her desk. A fragile envelope, coming apart at the seams from permanently being opened, sat on top of a notepad. She lifted it up carefully, opened it and pulled out the five photographs from inside. They were all of Carl with his family; playing in the back garden, on his father’s shoulders at the beach, opening presents on Christmas morning, playing with the puppy in the park, snuggling with the same dog in bed. In each picture, he was smiling, he was happy, he was content.

‘Where the bloody hell are you, Carl?’ She asked as tears began to form.

Chapter 11

The sound of hammering drew Ellen into the living room. The coffee table had been moved to one side and the carpet pulled away from around the window. Craig was on his hands and knees thwacking a hammer down onto the exposed floorboards.

‘Craig!’ She called out over the din. ‘What are you doing?’

He turned around to face her. His face was expressionless. ‘I hate not having anything to do. I can’t just sit around here waiting for the phone to ring at four o’clock. I thought I’d do a few jobs I’ve been putting off.’

‘I think maybe you should leave that for a while, at least until Linda gets up. I’ve made a fresh pot of coffee.’

‘If I drink any more coffee, I’ll be bouncing off the walls.’

‘It’s better than tearing up the living room,’ she smiled.

He smiled back. His face seemed to light up for a brief moment.

In the kitchen, Ellen poured them both a coffee from the cafetière. They sat at the heavily scratched pine table.

‘I like the garden,’ she said, looking out of the window. It had been designed with wide walkways for Riley’s wheelchair to go down, raised patches of grass for him to sit on without too much trouble getting out of his chair.

‘Thanks. I did most of it myself. It took me ages.’ He added a splash of milk to his strong coffee and poured in three heaped spoonfuls of sugar. ‘Riley loves it. He enjoys the fresh air.’

Ellen cleared her throat. ‘Tell me about Keeley. What sort of a child is she?’

‘She’s a good child,’ he replied without giving the question any thought. ‘She’s never given us any worry. She dotes on Riley and I think she listens to Jodie more than she does me and her mum,’ he laughed nervously.

‘How’s school? Does she have any favourite lessons?’

‘Maths. She’s good at it, too. I don’t know where she gets it from. I’m useless with numbers. She got a certificate last year for one hundred per cent attendance. She loves school.’

‘Any best friends?’

He frowned as he thought. He took a deep breath. ‘I don’t know. I think Jodie would be your best bet to answer that one.’

‘What does she like doing out of school?’

‘She’s a big Disney fan. She’s got all the DVDs. I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve sat through Frozen. She enjoys drawing too. She’s always drawing pictures of clothes, especially dresses. She designs dresses for Elsa to wear. She even drew a wedding dress once. She said it was going to be the one she’d wear when she was old enough to get married.’

‘Does Keeley think about things like that? Getting married?’

‘No. I think it’s the whole Disney princess thing? I expect she’s waiting for Prince Charming to ride up on a white horse and whisk her off to his castle.’ He smiled.

‘Craig, if someone acted the Prince Charming to Keeley, a stranger, is she the type of girl to go off with them?’

He paled instantly as if all the blood had been drained out of him. ‘You mean, grooming her?’

Ellen nodded. ‘It’s not easy to hear, I know, but I’m afraid I have to ask these questions.’

‘To be honest, I’ve no idea. When we bought her the tablet, we told her all about not talking to people she didn’t know. We go through it from time to time and it’s got all those protection locks on it, but these people are sneaky fuckers, aren’t they? I like to think she’s sensible, but at the end of the day she’s only nine. If somebody told her they had a castle and horses, I think she may fall for it.’

‘I’m sorry, I had to ask,’ she leaned forward and placed her warm hand on his.

‘That’s ok. You need to know these things. If some sick bastard has laid one finger on her, though, I swear to God, I’ll rip him apart.’

‘She wouldn’t.’

They both jumped at Jodie talking from the doorway. Ellen quickly removed her hand from Craig’s.

‘Sorry?’ Ellen asked.

‘What you said, about Keeley falling for someone who said they had a castle and horses, she wouldn’t. I’ve told her all about the internet. I’ve explained, in detail, what people are like on there. Whenever anybody new starts chatting to her on Snapchat, she tells me, and I sit with her, and watch the conversation play out. She’s a good girl. She wouldn’t go off with a complete stranger.’

‘You seem very confident about that.’

‘When I started picking her up all the time from school, we came up with a safe word that only me and her knew so if I had to arrange for someone else to collect her, I’d give them that word and she’d know it was ok to go with them. I never had a reason to use it.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ Craig said.

‘That’s very sensible of you, Jodie,’ Ellen smiled.

Jodie went over to the fridge, took out a can of Coke and pulled out the chair at the top of the table. She swiped a speck of fluff from her father’s jumper, closed a magazine left open, and sat down.

‘We’ve had lessons in school about strangers approaching you online and how predators try to groom you. I wanted to make sure Keeley was safe without frightening her.’

‘Would Keeley go off with someone she knew if they turned up at the school, without seemingly needing a safe word?’ Ellen asked.

Jodie’s bottom lip began to wobble. ‘I can’t protect her all the time,’ she cried. ‘I’ve warned her against strangers, but how do you warn someone against people they’re supposed to trust?’

‘Like who?’ Ellen asked.

‘I think we should leave it there,’ Craig said. He leaped from his seat and went over to his daughter. He held her firmly in his arms, pulling her tightly to his chest, and stroked her hair as she cried loudly.

‘Jodie, is there someone …?’

‘Please. Can we leave it for now?’ Craig demanded.

‘Of course. I’ll just …’

Ellen left the room and closed the door on Jodie’s cries and Craig making reassuring noises.

She stood in the hallway and ran her fingers through her greasy hair. She looked into the living room and saw Riley strapped into his highchair. He looked back at her with a vacant stare. She went in and picked up the small penguin he’d been playing with that had dropped on the floor. She handed it back to him.

‘Here you go, sweetheart.’ Over her shoulder, she saw an episode of Pingu playing on TV. The sound had been muted. She looked back at Riley. He was smiling. ‘What happened here last night, Riley?’ She asked him quietly.

Chapter 12

Matilda knocked on ACC Masterson’s door and waited for Valerie to tell her to come in. It was a long wait.

‘Come in.’

Matilda pushed opened the door and carefully entered, closing it behind her.

Valerie wasn’t behind her desk, as usual, buried under a mountain of paperwork and reports. In fact, her desk was relatively tidy. The ACC was standing by the window, her back to the room, gazing out at the sprawling view of Sheffield in autumn. Beyond the double glazing, new buildings were rising as Sheffield continued to go through its seemingly endless regeneration process. The high street was facing the same hardship as others up and down the country. People didn’t seem to want to shop on the street anymore, preferring to do it online. Shops were closing, footfall was easing, and city centres were turning into ghost towns. Sheffield seemed to have the solution. A new cinema had recently opened, and a bowling alley and pool hall were scheduled to open sometime next year. New restaurants and coffee shops were popping up, and, thanks to the new HSBC headquarters opening next summer, the city centre would hopefully start to see people return, if not to shop, then to be entertained.

Valerie’s eyeline followed a crane as it turned, carrying a heavy slap of concrete high up above the streets of the city centre.

‘Do you think Sheffield needs any more hotels?’ She asked, not turning around.

‘I don’t know. I haven’t given it much thought,’ Matilda said, stepping further into the room.

‘Apparently there’s going to be one where the old market was and there’s talk of an Ibis at the bottom of the Moor, right next to the Premier Inn. Who knew Sheffield was in such high demand.’

‘It’s not exactly a holiday destination,’ Matilda sniggered.

‘No.’

‘Is everything all right?’

Valerie turned from the window. She looked smart in her crisp uniform. Her grey hair was swept back. She was a small woman, barely over five feet tall, but her personality was titanic, as was her reputation as a powerful leader. However, recent events had taken their toll. Her face was heavily lined and there was an air of sadness about her which filled the room.

‘Fine,’ she quickly replied, taking her seat behind the enormous desk.

‘How’s Arthur? Any news?’

Valerie visibly sank in her seat. Her head bent down to her chest. She sniffled. She wiped away a tear before looking up.

‘Not good,’ she managed to say, her voice cracking. ‘He’s regained consciousness, but …’ She shrugged. She couldn’t speak.

Matilda sat down in front of her desk. ‘Is there anything I can do?’

‘You could make him remember who I am.’

‘He doesn’t remember you?’

She shook her head as the tears fell. Matilda ran around the desk to comfort her boss.

Earlier this year, Valerie had been all smiles and full of plans as she and her husband, Arthur, a retired dentist, were charting their route through Europe in a motorhome. Valerie was taking early retirement and they were going on the trip of a lifetime. A month ago, their plans had been thrown into chaos when Arthur suffered a massive stroke. He was unconscious and in intensive care for three weeks. Valerie had taken a few days off work but wallowing alone in their large house in Derbyshire made her feel worse, so she made a quick return to work, one eye permanently on her phone, waiting for the call from the hospital.

‘He’s lost all feeling down his left-hand side. He’s lost his speech, he can’t feed himself, or dress himself. He doesn’t recognise me, or the children. It’s like talking to a complete stranger who just happens to look like Arthur.’

Matilda plucked a few tissues from the box on the desk and handed them to Valerie for her to wipe her eyes and nose.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I’ve no idea.’ She blew her nose loudly. ‘What can I do? It could take years for him to get any form of movement back. He may not even get his memory back. All our plans, all our dreams, everything we’ve both worked for, ruined.’

Matilda didn’t know what to say. She hoped that wrapping a comforting arm around her shoulders would help her to open up. When she was grieving for James, she had her best friend, Adele, to talk to, and crying and screaming at the world really did help.

‘He’d hate this,’ Valerie continued. ‘We always talked about what we’d be like as old people. I’d laugh and joke about us causing havoc in a nursing home, but to Arthur, it wasn’t a joke. He hated the idea of growing old, of not being able to do the things he’s always been able to do. That’s what this trip was all about; visiting all the places we’ve only seen on TV before it’s too late. Now look at him.

‘You know, I sit in the hospital room and I watch him. He looks so sad. He’s got tears in his eyes and I know that he’ll be screaming inside, screaming at me to help him, to do something so he’s not feeling like this. It’s so unfair, Matilda.’

It really was unfair, and Matilda knew exactly how she felt. James was only forty-five when he died. A brilliant man at the top of his field, handsome, caring, loving, and he was taken from her.

‘You need to be strong for him,’ Matilda eventually said. ‘Physiotherapists can help with his speech and movement, but you, and your kids, need to help with his memory. You’ve been married for such a long time, you’ll have thousands of stories and photos to show him, to help him unlock the door to help him remember. It’ll be hard, I know it will, but you can relive everything together again. His will to get better will be strong; you have to match that strength.’

‘You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just …’

‘When you feel low, when you need to scream and shout and cry, come and visit me. I’ve got a huge garden you can stand in the middle of and scream and nobody will hear you. You helped me when James died. Please, don’t go through this on your own.’

Valerie placed a clammy hand on top of Matilda’s. ‘Thank you. You’re a good friend, Matilda. Now,’ she wiped her eyes. ‘We’ve got a kidnapping on our hands, I hear.’

‘Yes. A nine-year-old girl. Keeley Armitage.’

‘Any clue as to who might have taken her?’

‘Not so far. I’ve got an FLO at the house. I’m going to see her in a bit.’ She stood up and went around to the other side of the desk. ‘The kidnappers said they’d call back in twenty-four hours. That’s around four o’clock this afternoon. We’ve no idea if they’re watching the house or not so we can’t go knocking on doors. We’re just having to wait.’

‘I’ve been told it’s all over social media.’

‘Yes. The eldest daughter, Jodie, put something on Twitter last night. I’m guessing she thought she was helping.’

‘And I see our favourite journalist has reared his ugly head again,’ she turned the open laptop around to face Matilda. The screen was showing the home page of the local newspaper, the Sheffield Star, and a brief breaking news story written by Danny Hanson.

‘Ah,’ was all Matilda could think of saying after she read the short article.

‘I knew he’d bring up the Carl Meagan case at the mention of a kidnapping,’ Valerie said. ‘Are you thinking … you know … similarities with Carl?’

‘I’m trying not to.’

‘I can assign someone else to this case if you’d rather not get involved. Nobody would think badly of you for taking a step back.’

I’d think badly of me.

‘That’s fine, thank you, but I can do this. A year ago, probably not, but I’m stronger now.’

Valerie smiled. ‘Yes. You are, aren’t you? I suppose now is as good a time as any to tell you.’

‘Tell me what?’ Matilda frowned.

‘There’s a restructuring process planned for South Yorkshire Police to begin late next year. I’ve been asked to recommend officers who I believe would be suited for more demanding roles. I already see Christian Brady as a future DCI and Sian Mills should have been an inspector years ago. Have you considered being Superintendent Matilda Darke?’

Chapter 13

Matilda had never considered being a superintendent. She loved her role as detective chief inspector and enjoyed being in charge of a major crime unit. Valerie had chastised her on more than one occasion for going out to attend interviews and crime scenes when she should be behind a desk supervising and coordinating. Becoming a rank higher would mean an end to all of that. She couldn’t imagine the rest of her career being trapped behind a desk. The very thought of it made her shudder. However, if she was reluctant to move up, that would be blocking Christian and Sian in achieving bigger and better things. This would require some thought.

On her way out of the station, she sent a text to Adele asking if she was free to come round for a meal tonight. She received a reply almost straight away saying she was. Matilda’s text back told her it was her turn to pay for the takeaway and she voted for Chinese. The sarcastic gif she received as a reply made her laugh out loud.

***

Detective Constable Ellen Devonport answered the door and let Matilda in.

‘How’s it going?’ Matilda asked in a whisper while they were in the hallway.

Ellen shook her head. ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘Linda only snuck out of the house earlier and went to see Sally Meagan and asked her for the ransom money.’

Matilda’s face hardened in anger. ‘What? What happened?’

‘She didn’t give it to her. She’s been crying non-stop since she got up. Craig managed to get it out of her and when he did, well, you should have seen him. He had a right go at her. I thought he was going to hit her at one point.’

‘He got violent?’

‘Not physically, but he turned red and I saw him clench his fists a few times.’

‘Bloody hell. Where’s Linda now?’

‘Craig put her to bed.’

‘Jesus,’ Matilda pinched the bridge of her nose hard. Sally had been growing stronger in recent months, but something like this could be a setback. ‘I’ll have to go round and see Sally later, check on how she’s doing.’

‘Don’t blame Linda, ma’am, she’s desperate. Craig said she’d never asked anyone for anything before in her life. All the special stuff they need for Riley, they’ve bought it all themselves, or raised the money. They’ve never asked for loans or handouts.’

‘I won’t. But she needs to be one hundred per cent focussed for this afternoon.’

‘She will be. I’ll talk to her,’ Ellen said with a placatory smile.

‘Any phone calls or emails?’

‘A few from family members. They’ve been using their mobiles though. I told them to keep the landline free. Oh, before I forget, the next-door neighbour came round earlier, Amanda Raine. She remembered Jodie said something to her last night and thought we should know. Apparently, when Jodie found out Keeley had been kidnapped, she asked her mum if Keeley had had PE yesterday with Mr Page.’

‘And had she?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why’s that significant?’

‘Jodie wouldn’t say.’

‘Ok. Let’s go and have a word with Jodie then.’

***

Riley’s bedroom had been adapted from the garage attached to the house. In one corner was an en suite wet room and opposite was a large framed bed with foam protectors so Riley wouldn’t hurt himself while he was asleep.

The room was equipped with soft lighting. The blind at the window was closed and in two corners were large colour-changing LED sensory mood bubble water towers which cast a soothing glow around the room.

On the carpet, Riley was sitting in a large bean bag. He was wearing jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt with a penguin on the front. His favourite toy, a penguin, was nestled in his lap. Opposite him, Jodie was blowing bubbles towards him. When they hit his face and burst, he giggled. This made Jodie smile. Other toys and teddy bears were strewn around the floor.

‘Are they tickling you, Riley?’ Jodie asked as he gurgled loudly. ‘Do you like the bubbles?’

‘Jodie, can we have a word?’ Matilda asked quietly from the doorway.

She looked over her shoulder and nodded. Riley didn’t register their presence.

‘This is a nice room,’ Matilda said.

‘It’s relaxing. Riley can get stressed at times. The changing colours, the bubbles, and the music help to calm him.’

‘How old is he?’ Matilda asked, even though she knew the answer.

‘Four. He goes to school in the new year. Only a couple of days a week. I’ll miss him.’

‘You look after him a lot, don’t you?’

‘No. Mum looks after him more.’ Jodie blew more bubbles. Riley giggled and clapped his hands.

Matilda sat down on the floor next to Jodie. ‘Jodie, I want to ask you about something you said yesterday. When you found out Keeley was missing, you mentioned a teacher. Mr Page? Who is he?’

‘He’s a teacher at Keeley’s school.’

‘Why did you mention him?’

‘I don’t know,’ she shrugged, blowing more bubbles. ‘Oops, Mr Penguin is getting wet,’ she said to Riley.

‘Jodie, do you think Mr Page might have something to do with Keeley going missing?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Then why bring him up?’

‘It’s … I don’t know.’

‘Jodie, you’re not going to get anybody into trouble. If you think you know something, you really need to tell us so we can find your sister. You might not think it’s important, but we need to find out.’ Matilda wondered why Jodie would bring Mr Page up in the first place if she didn’t think it important. It may be something and nothing but right now it was the first sign of a hint of progress. Matilda wasn’t going to let it slide.

Jodie continued to play with Riley. She reached for a plastic spiral tower all in different bright colours which she placed in front of her brother. She handed him a ball. He placed it on the top of the tower and as the ball ran down, it made a jingling sound. He gurgled and smiled.

‘He loves this game,’ Jodie said, copying his smile. ‘He loves the sound of the bell inside the balls.’ She handed him another ball.

‘You love Riley, don’t you?’

‘Of course I do.’

‘And you love Keeley?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then tell us about Mr Page, Jodie.’

She let out a heavy sigh. ‘Mr Page is Keeley’s PE teacher. She’s said a couple of times that he’s been a bit too … close.’

‘What do you mean by close?’

‘She said he puts his arm around her, and he helps her get changed after PE. She said she thinks it’s weird.’

‘Does he do this with other girls?’

‘She didn’t say.’

‘Other boys?’

‘She didn’t say.’

‘Who else has she told?’

‘Nobody.’

‘Why did she tell you? How did it come up in conversation?’ Matilda asked quickly.

‘She’s not wanted to do PE a few times and I asked her why not. She loves PE, loves going outside and running. For her to suddenly not want to do it, I knew something must have been wrong. I thought she was being bullied at first.’

‘What advice did you give her?’

‘I told her that if she was uncomfortable, she should either tell the head teacher or Mum and Dad.’

‘Did she?’

‘No. I don’t think so.’

‘How long ago was this?’

‘Towards the end of last term. Before the summer holidays.’ She handed Riley another ball and he giggled as he watched the ball roll down the spiral tower.

‘Was she still not looking forward to PE again this term?’

‘No.’

‘Thank you, Jodie. You’ve been a big help.’

Matilda stood up to leave the room when Jodie called her back.

‘Will you be here, at four o’clock, when the kidnappers ring again?’

‘Yes.’

‘What will we do when they call?’

‘I don’t know. It depends what they have to say.’

‘We’re not going to get her back, are we?’

‘You will. I promise. We will do everything we can to bring her home.’

If any of Matilda’s officers had made such a promise, she’d have chastised them at the earliest opportunity. Every time she entered this house, saw the torment Craig, Linda, and Jodie were going through, she was reminded of Carl and his parents. She didn’t remember making them a promise, but her mind had been all over the place with James’s cancer weighing on her mind. Now, she had one task and one goal. She felt she could make a promise and make good on it.

‘Do you think the same people who took Carl Meagan have taken her?’

Matilda took a deep breath. She could feel Ellen Devonport’s eyes burning into the back of her neck. Suddenly, the dull lighting and the warmth of the room were becoming too much for her. She needed air. She needed light. ‘No. I don’t,’ she replied firmly. ‘Keep playing with Riley. Leave us to worry about everything else.’ She gave her a smile, waved goodbye to Riley, even though she knew he wouldn’t wave back, and left the room.

‘Should we promise her we’re going to bring Keeley home?’ Ellen asked once they were back in the hallway.

‘No, but what else could I say?’

The landline started to ring. Everything in the house fell silent. Even Riley seemed to stop giggling.

Craig bolted down the stairs and ran into the living room. He picked up the phone. His shaking finger hovered over the green button. He took a deep breath.

‘Keep calm, listen to what they have to say, and ask to speak to Keeley,’ Matilda said. ‘We’re recording this call.’

‘Hello?’ Craig answered. His voice was high and filled with panic.

‘Mr Armitage?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you been in an accident in the past twelve months that wasn’t your fault?’

He ended the call without answering and slumped on the sofa. He sobbed loudly. Ellen went over to him and put her arm around him.

‘I can’t do this,’ he cried. ‘I can’t bear not knowing where she is. This is killing me.’

‘What’s going on?’ Jodie came running into the room. ‘Dad?’

Ellen moved to one side to allow Jodie to comfort her father. As Craig sat up and lifted his daughter onto his lap, Matilda noticed that although Craig was making the right noises, he wasn’t producing any tears.

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