Behind Closed Doors (16 page)

‘She is doing well. I am still at hospital with her. Kasia, everything will be all right, I promise. You must not be frightened.’

‘OK. I’m sorry. I don’t want to worry you when you have so much on your mind.’

‘I’m fine,’ he assured her.

‘I must go. Please call me as soon as you know more about your mother.’

After guiding Brenda back to the lounge where a lady from the WI was showing a group of residents how to make paper flowers, Kasia quickly returned to her office and checked the number Tomasz had called from. To her relief it really did begin with 48, the country code for Poland, so he was definitely there. It wasn’t that she’d doubted him, it was simply that the police had her so confused she could hardly think straight.

Everything would be fine now. She would text him DS Lawrence’s number and when she got a moment later she would call DS Lawrence herself to let her know that if he hadn’t been in touch already, he soon would be.

‘Alayna, where are you?’ Andee asked as she headed into the station.

‘At home,’ Alayna replied.

Relieved to hear it, Andee said, ‘And where’s Grandma?’

‘As far as I know chatting to Grandma Carol on the phone.’

Of course, they could go on for ever, those two, and now with so much to say about Dougie . . . ‘I need you to do something for me,’ Andee said, aware this was going to be a big ask of a fifteen-year-old. However, Alayna had been blessed with more sensitivity than the entire family put together, and no one, apart from Andee and Luke, could love her grandma more. ‘You might have heard on the news that a young girl has gone missing from around here?’

‘No, we haven’t seen any news. Oh Mum, that’s terrible. Is it anyone we know?’

‘Her name’s Sophie Monroe. Do you know her?’

‘There’s someone at my school with that name. She’s younger than me, but I think she lives on one of the caravan parks.’

‘That’s her.’

‘Oh my God! What’s happened to her?’

‘That’s what we’re trying to find out. On the face of it it looks like she’s run away, but we can’t be sure.’

‘How long’s she been gone?’

‘Just over a week. You can probably imagine how worried her parents are. Everyone is. And now you know her age you’ll understand what kind of effect it could have on Grandma when she gets to hear about it.’

‘Of course,’ Alayna replied warmly, ‘but you know, Mum, I think Grandma handles these things much better than you realise.’

‘You could be right, but don’t let’s take it for granted. I’d really rather she didn’t blunder into it on the news, and I can’t get home for a while. So if you feel up to having a little chat with her . . .’

‘No problem, I’ll do it now, but what about
you
? This can’t be very easy for you.’

‘I’m OK,’ Andee assured her, pressing the lift button to go up. How proud she was of this girl who was so considerate of others – and what a struggle she herself was having keeping the agonisingly dark days of the past as deeply buried as they needed to be for her to function normally.

Penny, where are you?

Please, please come home.

Don’t you understand how much we love you?

The echoes of despair, guilt, longing – and most of all the fear that it would never end.

And it never did.

‘I’m sorry, I have to ring off now,’ she said to Alayna. ‘Call if you need me. Love you.’

‘Love you too.’

Relieved to have got off the line with no mention being made of Martin, Andee exited the lift on the second floor and started along the corridor towards the incident room. As she went she was allowing herself a moment to imagine Alayna holding her grandmother’s hands as she broke the news of Sophie’s disappearance, her eyes showing a remarkable empathy for a girl of such tender years. She felt terrible for not being there herself, although she knew her mother would understand why she wasn’t. Finding Sophie had to be a priority, and because Maureen was always so concerned for others it would be the most natural thing in the world for her to put the Monroes’ needs before her own.

How alike her mother and daughter were, their kindness and generosity seeming able to quell the natural reactions of jealousy and insecurity. Even when Andee and Martin had broken up Alayna had seemed more worried about them than she had about herself, although Andee and her mother always kept a close eye on that, wanting to be sure she wasn’t suppressing her emotions in order to spare them.

Luke, on the other hand, had taken it hard when his father had gone off and left them in the lurch, as he bitingly put it.

‘What about
us
?’ he’d cried to Andee, his eyes burning with anger and pain. (At the time he hadn’t had the courage to tackle his father to his face, but they’d certainly had the showdown since.) ‘Don’t we count?’ he’d demanded. ‘For all he knows you might want to bail out on us as well, but you never would, because you understood your responsibilities when you had children. He’s such a bastard. We’re better off without him.’

Realising how afraid he was that she might leave them too, Andee had assured him it would never happen. ‘And remember, it’s only for a few months. He’ll be back when the contract’s finished.’

‘That’s exactly what Richard Clash’s father said when he went off to Africa, and they’ve never seen him since.’

Not what Andee had wanted to hear. ‘You know Dad won’t do that to you,’ she’d said gently.

‘I never thought he’d take off without any discussion,’ Luke retorted savagely, ‘but he has. I’m going to be totally screwed up now, thanks to him.’

‘You don’t have to be. You need to talk to him, to try and understand what’s going on with him. You’ll find it has nothing to do with wanting to leave you, because I happen to know that was the hardest part of his decision.’

It was true, it certainly had been; leaving Andee, however, hadn’t seemed to be difficult at all.

These days an uneasy friendship existed between father and son that Alayna told her more about than Luke ever did. Luke was more inclined to keep his feelings to himself, in part, Andee suspected, to avoid hurting her.

The joys and complications of being a mother, she was musing to herself as she all but collided with Gould coming out of the incident room.

‘Ah, there you are,’ he said. ‘The press office . . .’

‘Have been in touch. Don’t worry, I’m on it, but I want to take a look at this CCTV before putting together a statement. Have you seen it?’

‘Not yet. Is there anything significant?’

‘I’ll let you know when I’ve seen it.’

Twenty minutes later Andee was in a viewing room watching selected playback from the security cameras positioned around Blue Ocean Park. With her was Leo, Jemma Payne, Barry Britten and Yaz the technician, who was treating them to the overpowering scent of his manly cologne.

‘So, basically, what we have,’ she declared, consulting her notes when Yaz brought his edited highlights to a close, ‘is Sophie running past the Costcutter shop at seven fifty-two, presumably having just come from her parents’ bungalow, then being picked up by another camera at seven fifty-four heading into the lane that leads through the dunes.’

‘She doesn’t have anything with her,’ Leo pointed out. ‘No bag, no computer.’

Having already clocked that, Andee nodded and continued.

‘The next time we see her is eight thirty-eight going up the steps at the side of the pie shop, which means she’s been on or around the beach, or at least away from the site, for approximately forty minutes. Her phone records don’t show her making any calls at that time, so it could be she was having a sulk after the row with her parents, or maybe there’s no reception there, or she could have met up with someone we’ve yet to find out about.’

‘Pre-arranged or chance?’ Jemma wondered aloud.

Since no one had an answer for that, Andee continued. ‘Back to the pie shop, and her entry into Perkins’s apartment where she remains until nine sixteen, when we see her coming out again. Let’s take another look at that, Yaz.’

Finding the relevant footage he hit play and they watched carefully as the large computer screen showed grainy images of Sophie, all willowy limbs and miniskirt, sashaying down the steps and making a jaunty skip on to the gravel at the bottom. Given what they’d found in Perkins’s apartment, it seemed a reasonable assumption that she was high. Certainly she seemed in good spirits, suggesting the earlier row with her parents had been all but forgotten.

‘The next time we pick her up,’ Yaz pronounced as he wound on through the footage, ‘she’s going into the clubhouse at nine fifty-one.’

‘And as it shouldn’t take more than four to five minutes to get from the pie shop to the Entertainment Centre,’ Jemma put in, ‘we have to ask ourselves where did she go after leaving Perkins’s flat? Obviously if the camera covering the park entrance had been working, we’d know if she’d returned home, but as it stands, we only know that she went into the Centre at ten minutes to ten.’

‘And Perkins was already there,’ Barry added, ‘because we’ve seen him leaving his flat at nine eighteen, a couple of minutes after Sophie, and going into the Centre at nine twenty-three. Meaning he must have gone straight there.’

‘So did she go home to pack up some things?’ Andee wondered. ‘If she did, she doesn’t have them with her when we pick her up going into the Centre.’

‘It’s possible she left them somewhere to collect later,’ Jemma suggested. ‘Or she could have given them to someone – Sikora? – when he drove into the park around nine thirty.’

‘How do we know he arrived at nine thirty?’ Andee asked.

‘We don’t for certain,’ Yaz replied, rewinding, ‘but we do have footage of him driving into the Centre’s underground car park at that time. Of course, he might already have been on the site somewhere, but for now it seems a reasonable assumption that he’s just turned up for his gig.’

‘In which case,’ Andee pondered, ‘was he in touch with Perkins and Sophie before he arrived to arrange to pick up Sophie’s bag?’

Since no one had the answer to that, Yaz fast-forwarded to the footage of Sophie leaving the club at eleven fifty-two, not quite steady on her feet, followed by Sikora’s van exiting the car park five minutes later.

‘No images of Perkins leaving,’ Yaz informed them, ‘so chances are he’s in Sikora’s van – we can’t tell from the angle of the camera, although that’s definitely Sikora driving. The next time we see him is out on the main drag, having turned left out of the site. It’s not possible to see who’s in the van with him, if anyone.’

‘Left wouldn’t be the obvious direction to take if he was going home,’ Barry commented, ‘although you can get to the estate that way.’

‘Is it possible for him to have stopped to pick up Sophie on the way out of the site?’ Andee queried.

‘I’d say yes, if she was waiting and ready to hop in. No witnesses to say they saw it happen, but we’re still working on it.’

‘Is anyone claiming to have seen her talking to Sikora at the club?’ Andee wanted to know.

‘Yes, we’ve got a couple of bar staff saying they saw her with him at the side of the stage, just after the show ended.’

‘Was anyone close enough to hear what was being said?’

‘Apparently not.’

‘Did it look like they were rowing, having fun . . .?’

‘None of the above. She was only with him for a few seconds, apparently, then she left.’

Andee nodded slowly. ‘I’m taking it there’s direct access from the clubhouse to the garage.’

‘There is,’ Barry confirmed. ‘Stairs and lift. Parking for around a dozen vehicles, including the wardens’ golf carts.’

‘OK, so how many white vans are there like this?’

‘Three,’ Jemma told her, ‘all used by Sikora and his maintenance team.’

‘Do we have a registration number for this one?’

‘We have for all three,’ Jemma replied, ‘and as soon as we can confirm which van this is we’ll get it circulated.’

‘OK, so what this
could
be telling us,’ Andee declared, ‘is that Sophie left the site with Perkins and Sikora in Sikora’s van around midnight. Given that Sikora is supposed to have arrived home shortly after . . . How long would it take him to get there if he took the longer route?’ she asked Barry.

‘Fifteen minutes, at that time of night,’ he replied.

‘OK, so presuming we believe the girlfriend and he did arrive home around twelve fifteen, what we need to know is where he might have dropped Perkins and Sophie.’

‘Given the timing it has to be somewhere close by,’ Leo piped up, ‘unless, of course, Sikora’s girlfriend
is
providing some sort of alibi.’

Having to accept the possibility of that, Andee glanced at her watch as she got to her feet. ‘We need a team over at the bungalow taking what footprints they can from outside Sophie’s bedroom window to see if any could feasibly belong to Perkins or Sikora. OK, I know it’s a long shot given how much time has passed, and chances are they didn’t get out of the van, but let’s get it done anyway. Same goes for fingerprints on the sill and around the window. Does anyone know when the Poynters are expected back?’

‘Apparently they’re flying into Gatwick tonight,’ Jemma told her.

‘Then you and Leo go and have a chat with them tomorrow.’

A few minutes later Andee was back in the incident room. ‘OK, what’s new on Perkins?’ she called out, checking her mobile as it rang. Seeing it was Martin she felt her heart catch, but now wasn’t a good time to talk to him so she let the call go to messages.

‘Still no sightings,’ Dan Wilkes told her. ‘The local police have paid his mother a visit, but she’s claiming she hasn’t heard from him in a fortnight.’

‘When did he last check in under the terms of his order?’

‘Four months ago. He was still living in London then.’

‘And he didn’t tell anyone he was moving. That puts him in violation right there. We do such a grand job of following up on these guys, don’t we? All his usual haunts have been checked?’

‘As far as I know.’

‘OK, let’s hope that turning him into a full-on media star manages to flush him out,’ and going to the incident board she stood staring at Sophie’s photos – the innocently smiling schoolgirl who’d lost her mother at far too young an age, and the purple-haired bundle of frustrations and loneliness who seemed to have been trying all the wrong ways to regain the attention of her father.