Acid Row (37 page)

“Are you Amy Biddulph?” he asked, pressing the door wider. There was a small similarity between this girl and the photograph, but it was very slight. This one looked like an older sister.

She tilted her jaw in defiance. “What if I am?”

“May I come in?”

“I'm not allowed to talk to anyone.”

Surprise .. . surprise! "We're the police, Amy. We've been looking for you, sweetheart. Your mum's worried out of her mind."

She flounced her shoulders. "She's just saying that. If she cared she wouldn't have left me with Barry and Kimberley."

"Come on, love. She's very upset. She was afraid something bad had happened to you."

“Don't see why. I can look after myself.”

The policeman's colleague came round from the back, where he'd stationed himself to block any attempted flight through the garden.

Their first idea had been that some third party was involved, but he returned when he heard conversation at the front. He caught the tail-end of it, took in the child's made-up face, peroxided hair, tight halter-neck top and brief miniskirt, and raised an eyebrow. "I see you've been having a good time, Amy," he said. He was older than his mate and had daughters of his own. He recognized the symptoms of rebellious alienation immediately, though, at ten, the kid was pretty damn young for it.

“It's allowed,” she said, pushing out her non-existent breasts.

“Children have rights, too, you know.”

“Not to waste police time they don't,” he said severely. "Haven't you been watching the television? Don't you know that officers all over the country are looking for you?"

An odd little smile played across the painted lips. "I guess I'm pretty famous."

“You certainly are,” said the officer cynically. "You'll be even more famous if the photographers get a snap of you looking like that. Is this what it's all been about, Amy? Fifteen minutes of fame? Never mind your mum's breaking her heart."

She didn't understand fifteen minutes of fame. At ten, encouraged by the reactions she inspired with her dancing, she wanted a lifetime of adulation. She flounced her shoulders again. “She doesn't love me,”

she said. "She's jealous of me. She doesn't like it when men fancy me more than they fancy her."

Had Tyler been there he'd have recognized an echo from Franny Gough and he'd have asked himself what kind of people fed such ideas to children. The older officer gestured to her to come outside. "Time to go home, Amy."

She stepped behind the door. "I don't want to. I want to stay here."

The younger policeman shook his head. "You don't have a choice sweetheart."

She pulled her arm away as he reached inside to catch it. "I'll say you touched my breasts," she warned.

“God almighty!” grumbled his colleague, reaching through the car window for the radio. “Where the hell do you girls learn this stuff?”

He gave his call sign. "Yes, she's here. Alive .. . dressed up like a tart.. . and refusing to leave. She's threatening us with accusations of indecent assault. Yes .. . female officers and a social worker." He glanced at the child. "A right little madam ... I don't envy her poor mother, that's for sure. The kid thinks she's Lolita .. . but she looks more like Macaulay Culkin in drag. You've got it ... Home Alone .. . and revelling in it."

Message faxed to Sgt Gary Butler at the Hilton Hotel in Southampton Telephone Message For: DCI Tyler From: Mrs. Angela Gough Taken by: PC Drew Date: 28.07.01 Call timed at: 16.15 Mrs. Gough now wondering if blackmail was the reason for Edward Townsend's interest in Francesca. During second conversation with daughter in Majorca, Francesca explained the trip in the following terms: "Ed said the best way to find out if someone loves you is to see how much they're prepared to pay for you." Francesca assumed he was talking about the plane fares to and from Majorca and the hotel bill.

Upset that he didn't love her as much as she thought. On reflection Mrs. Gough wonders if he was planning a crude form of blackmail -i.e.

pay up, or nude photos of your daughter will appear in the News of the World. Mrs. Gough describes herself as 'reasonably wealthy'.

G. Drew  

Saturday 28 July 2001 manager's office, Hilton Hotel, Southampton

ROGERS ON WAS INFORMED that his daughter was safe as soon as he reached the hotel. Tyler spoke to him in the manager's office, and waited while he composed himself. It was hard to say if his tears were genuine, but Tyler assumed so. The man's passions ran higher than anyone had realized.

He insisted he had not, and could not, have known that his daughter had been abducted by his client. He had cooperated fully once certain issues were brought to his attention, and had immediately revealed to DCI Tyler the address of a second property owned by Edward Townsend.

Rogerson agreed that he had capital invested in Etstone at the time his wife left him, but was unwilling to say how much. Certainly, it was a substantial amount, and it was in both his and Mr. Townsend's interests to remain on good terms following Laura's departure to Southampton.

Tyler was amused. On the Trojan horse priniciple? he asked. Bide your time, pretend to retreat, then take your revenge when your enemy is looking the other way?

Rogerson, equally amused, said that while he could not, of course speak for his client, he had been surprised by.Mr. Townsend's readiness to asume that he could take another man's wife with impunity.

He referred to it as the Jeffrey Archer/ Bill Clinton syndrome. Some men delude themselves into thinking they can get away with anything, he murmured.

However, he denied absolutely that he had engineered Etstone's collapse. Yes, as the company's legal adviser, he knew the local manager of the company's bank, but he refuted any suggestion that he had ever hinted to him that he was about to call in his loan under the agreement made with Townsend some ten years previously. He had no idea if the manager was a Freemason, and could not say if he had ever met him at a Lodge meeting. The company's difficulties were of Townsend's making, not his.

In Rogerson's view, and the view of the majority of shareholders, the business could only be rescued if Townsend was bought out and the company restructured. It was Townsend's bad judgement that had led to a collapse of confidence in the Guildford development. He had paid too high a price for the land, and the planners had refused permission for an executive-style estate. The climate of opinion had changed in favour of cheaper properties to allow first-time buyers on to the housing ladder. In these circumstances, Townsend's figures were no longer viable and the bank had taken fright and pulled the rug out from under him.

Clearly, Etstone's value was considerably less now than prior to the Guildford debacle, which made Townsend's future uncertain. Both his house in Southampton and his cottage in Devon had been put up as security for loans, and he faced imminent ruin. Rogerson took no pleasure in this. He was not a vengeful man, and had always kept his business and private affairs separate.

How vengeful did he believe Townsend to be? Was Amy a consolation prize or a ransom chip? But to that Rogerson had no answer. He merely repeated his strong denial that he'd ever had reason to think that Townsend was a paedophile.

Laura Biddulph wept down the phone line. "Thank God .. . thank God ..

. thank God," was all she could say.

Tyler explained that the child was unharmed, although she hadn't yet been examined by a doctor. "She's adamant that Edward's never touched her in a sexual way," he said, 'and, for what it's worth, the Devon social worker thinks she's telling the truth. The woman says she's grown-up for her age and understands the difference between appropriate and inappropriate touching."

“Then why did he take her?”

“We haven't asked him yet.” Tyler paused. "Amy says he came for her because she told him she was so unhappy she was going to kill herself."

More weeping. “Why didn't she tell me?”

“Perhaps because you were too frightened to put the question,” said Tyler gently, 'and he wasn't."

Police car en route from Southampton Hilton to Hampshire Police Headquarters Despite being advised of his rights, Townsend was keen to justify himself. He sat in the back of the police car and spoke earnestly to Tyler in the front passenger seat. Gary Butler, who was driving watched the shifts of expression across his face in the rear-view mirror.

“I've never laid a finger on Amy,” he said. "I'm not an abuser Inspector. I would never force or coerce her to do anything she didn't want to do. I love her too much for that .. . unlike her parents, who treat her like a commodity. Her father uses her as a weapon. Her mother uses her to bolster her self-esteem."

Tyler turned to look at him. "And you just want to have sex with her?"

"I'm not some sleazy child-molester. If I were, Amy would never have come with me. Everything I do is done with her consent. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Tyler wondered if there was some paedophile creed in existence that he'd learnt by heart. lFm not an abuser .. . lFm not a molester .. ."

“Everything is done with consent.. .” "You'll tell me next that she initiates contact."

"She does. She's learnt from her mother what pleases a man. It's hard to resist sometimes. She's curious about sex. Most children are."

Tyler shook his head and turned back to stare out of the window. "She's ten years old, Mr. Townsend. Of course she's curious. That doesn't mean she knows what she's doing. Consent has to be informed, and a child of Amy's age is incapable of understanding that when a paedophile touches her the feelings she arouses are different from the feelings that other men have."

"I am aware of '

Tyler overrode him. "Her mother put it to me rather well last night.

Apparently Kimberely Logan accused her of trying to run Amy's life, and Laura replied that if Amy can't even decide between fish fingers and sausages for her tea, how can she make choices about her future?"

“I've never once attempted to exploit my feelings for her.”

“You abducted her.”

"I rescued her. She said she'd kill herself if I didn't take her away from the Logans."

Tyler watched a car full of children pass by, laughing and pushing each other in the back seat. "According to the officers who found her she's dressed up like a tart with peroxided hair and full make-up.

Whose idea was that?"

"Hers. I just bought the stuff. She wanted to look older. It wasn't my choice. I prefer her as she is."

"They said it was a good disguise, particularly the blonde hair. They wouldn't have recognized her from her photograph if they'd passed her in the street.“ He shook his head. ”What were you planning to do with her? Hide her in Devon for the rest of her life?"

"I never thought that far ahead. I just did it. I suppose I hoped we could lie low for a while then start again somewhere else. I read about this teacher who took one of his pupils to Italy and lived with her for a year before they were found. It seemed worth a shot."

“You must have known you'd be caught.”

“Not really.” He stared past Butler to the horizon beyond the car.

There was a faraway look in his eyes. "I thought it more likely she'd get bored and want to go home. I told her at the start that I'd return her to her mother the minute she changed her mind."

"What was the start, Mr. Townsend? How did you get into this position?"

"Are you asking me what makes an adult man fall in love with a ten-year-old?"

“No,” said the DCI with mild amusement. "I'm prepared to take that as read. It's not something I will ever understand. I like women. If I can find one with brains, tits and a sense of humour who enjoys a career and my cooking, then I'll be in seventh heaven. A dependent ten-year-old stick insect with no conversation would bore me stiff.. .

unless she was my daughter. In which case, I'd almost certainly find her stumbling advances towards adulthood fascinating. However, I would not under any circumstances wish to have sex with her."

Butler saw a gleam of humour spark in the pale eyes. "How would you know if you've never had a daughter? You might not put it into practice, Inspector, but you'd certainly think about it at least once in your life."

Tyler glanced at his sergeant, who was keeping his eyes firmly on the road. “You said Amy threatened to kill herself,” he went on. "So why did you abandon her to go to Majorca with Franny?"

"I didn't abandon her. I bought her a mobile and programmed in my number so she could call me whenever she wanted to."

It was only half an answer but for the moment Tyler let it go. "You were the “Em” or “Ed” that she called from the phone box?"

“Yes.”

“Why did she have to reverse the charges if she had a mobile?”

“She didn't have it then.”

“Had she called you before?”

He nodded. “Every day on her way home from school.”

“What about when she and Laura were in the hotel?”

"There was a call box round the corner. She used to sneak out when Laura was asleep."

“So what changed?”

"The holidays. She was in tears all the time .. . hated the Logans ..

. hated the bullying .. . hated her mother for being a loser .. . hated her father. I saw her as often as I could, but it just became more and more upsetting."

“It's an interesting coincidence, wouldn't you say?”

“What is?”

"That around the time her father says he's going to withdraw his money you start spending time with the daughter. Are you saying those two facts are unconnected?"

“From my end, certainly.” Another wry shrug. "She never wanted to leave my house, Inspector. She needs to be loved. Children aren't stupid. They know what makes them happy."

“Where did you take her each day?”

"The downs. The seaside. The sort of places a father takes his child for fun. But it wasn't every day. Three or four ... no more."

“Where did she go the other days?”

He gave a small laugh. "Nowhere, as far as I know. She phoned me several times from her bedroom .. . said the Logan kids were so thick she could run rings round them. She used to hide under her bed and read books. It gave her a buzz to make them think she had a friend they knew nothing about. All she had to do was slip downstairs while they were watching television and slam the front door .. . they always assumed she'd been out .. . particularly when she acted angry or upset."