Mummy's Favourite (32 page)

The events of the night before had been adrenaline-filled, but one look at Bradley Conroy crying as he was detained and she'd known he wasn't their man. He was certainly a dangerous individual, but he was not a cold, calculating and highly organized abductor, meticulous in both the preparation and execution of his crimes. Conroy's was a crime of passion, albeit misplaced passion. He was just a sad, infatuated, pathetic man who was now destined to spend the rest of his life back in prison. Charlie had no doubt it was where he belonged, but this was not the monster they were after.

She had slept fitfully for a few hours in the office from about six a.m. when Conroy was finally bedded down, but now she was back on a mission. Hunter had given her his blessing to leave HQ. She had good instincts and he knew it; and that instinct was now leading her back to Olga Kaplinski, and the story of an illegal immigrant forced to take the identity of a missing woman leaving the country. It hadn't made sense then but the more she'd tried to concentrate on other jobs, the more it kept coming back into her consciousness.

The train was just pulling in now. She strained to see if she could pick out Olga from all the passengers disembarking. She saw her immediately, singling her out by the hesitancy in her step and the way she held back from striding off the carriage. Olga was a well-built woman, with wrinkled cheeks, a ruddy complexion and a shock of blonde hair wound round and pinned on the top of her head in a rather severe bun. She was in her late forties, but could well have been younger, if life hadn't dealt her the hand it obviously had, but her bearing was still one of a proud, hard-working woman. She was the last person to the exit gates when Charlie stepped forward. Their eyes locked briefly.

Olga's expression was one of anxiety. Charlie held out her hand and Olga took it, shaking it carefully, her head still bowed.

‘Will I get into trouble?' Olga repeated the last words that Charlie recalled from
Crimewatch
.

‘No, I think I can pretty much guarantee that you won't. We're going to talk through what you remember over coffee then we'll go to the police station where someone can write it down if we need.' She smiled, trying to put the older lady at ease. By the time they were seated, Olga was chatting animatedly about her journey.

Charlie came straight to the point. ‘You said that you were made to take the part of a missing woman with a child, when you spoke to me on
Crimewatch
? I know we've spoken briefly on the phone but can you tell me exactly what happened?'

Olga looked panicky for an instant but quickly calmed.

‘It was about twenty years ago when I was still a young woman. My parents had left me in the care of an auntie and uncle in Poland for some years when they first came to England until they got things sorted out. I missed them and I know they missed me too. Things were hard for them at first. Poland wasn't part of the EU then and they were initially refused permission to stay.'

Olga glanced up and Charlie nodded her encouragement.

‘The authorities wanted to send them back but my father was convinced that this country was where he wanted to settle and it offered more stability and opportunities than Poland did. He and my mother went on the run, with my father taking work where he could. At the same time, they were desperate to bring me over to join them. My mother in particular missed me and they both thought that I would have a better life here. They arranged for a Polish friend to stow me in the back of his truck and bring me across the Channel from France to Dover. It was risky, but there weren't so many people making the trip in those days, so border controls were not so tight.'

She took a sip of her tea and looked nervous again.

‘I was here illegally for quite a few years. We lived in Dover at that point, moving from one backstreet lodging to another. I took work where I could, but it was hard. I would get paid pennies to work for hours in launderettes or kitchens or pubs, anything I could find really. Sometimes I had bad experiences and now, looking back, I think I am lucky to have come out of that time without being seriously hurt or raped even.'

Charlie shook her head. ‘Go on,' she prompted gently.

‘It was the December, I think around 1993 when I got myself in trouble. Christmas was coming and I wanted to get my parents small gifts to brighten the day. They missed their brothers and sisters. I was working in a bar down by the docks, doing long hours for just a few pounds. One of the customers, a man in his sixties, started making lewd comments towards me. He was dirty in body and had a dirty mind too. He worked on the sea and smelt of fish and stale tobacco. I didn't want to talk to him but he was a regular and my boss told me I had to humour him or I would be out of a job. So I did what I was told and played with him, flirting a bit and letting him think I liked him, to keep him buying. He ordered a drink and my boss told me to take it over to him. When I got there he patted his lap and told me to sit with him. The boss was looking across and laughing. I think they were friends. I needed the job, so I did what he said. As I sat down, he put his hand up my skirt and grabbed me. He was disgusting. I knew I shouldn't have to put up with this, so I slapped him hard around the face.'

‘He pushed me on to the floor and threw his drink on me as I lay there. I was all wet and was shaking and crying, but he was still very angry. The boss was angry too. They were both shouting at me. Then this other man came over. He seemed to know the others and said he would deal with me. The boss seemed happy because he didn't have to pay me for that week's work and the man was calm. I was glad to get away from the place. So this man took hold of my arm and made me walk with him to a small room in a nearby street. He said he was a policeman.'

‘Did he ever show you any identification?'

‘Not proper ID, no, but there were things around the room. There was a uniform and handcuffs. I thought he was a policeman and he spoke like a police-man. He said that he could arrest me for assaulting the customer and get me sent back to Poland. I believed him. He asked me who I was with and I said I was here with my parents. He said he would track them down and get them sent back too. I was terrified that he would do what he said. Then he changed a bit and became friendlier. He said that if I did a favour for him he would forget all about what had happened. He said that all he needed me to do was take a young boy over to France and return later the same day. We were to go as foot passengers on the Dover to Calais ferry. He would have documents for me in another woman's name. He said that she had run away from her husband who treated her badly and that she wanted to move to a different part of the country and start a new life in a different name, but she wanted her husband to think that she had gone to the continent with her son, rather than staying in this country.

‘I knew how easy it was to set up a new identity. People I met in those days were doing it all the time. There was always someone that could make up false passports, bank cards, anything you needed if you wanted to disappear and start again as a new person. I thought I would be doing this woman a favour, helping her escape from her violent husband.

‘And the police-man offered me fifty pounds to do it and I needed the money. It was a lot for me and meant I could buy my parents the presents I wanted to and we could all have a good Christmas. And, of course, it got me out of the trouble I was in and stopped me getting deported back to Poland. I couldn't refuse.

‘I didn't tell my parents what had happened. I didn't tell anyone. On the day it was to be done, the port was busy with people going over to France for the Christmas markets and cheap alcohol. The policeman said I was to meet him at his rented room at four p.m. I went there like I was told and he was there. He made me wear a dark wig and glasses so I looked like the other woman, and some clothes that he had brought with him, including a long coat with a hood. He had the little boy with him too. He must have only been about five years old. He got him all dressed up, with a hooded Batman top and batman face- mask.

‘I did exactly as I was told. It was easy. It was dark and rainy. They barely checked the passport in the terminal. I kept my head down on the boat, staying in the same area for the whole journey. When I got to France I pretty much went straight through. We caught a train straight out of Calais before getting off at a country stop, taking our disguises off and throwing them away. We then came straight back. The policeman had got me a different passport to come back because I didn't have one of my own.

‘When I got back he gave me my fifty pounds, took the young child and I never saw the man or the boy again.'

‘So what made you call
Crimewatch
?' Charlie was fascinated by the whole story.

‘Well over the years I have learned better how things work and how the story does not seem right. The local papers at the time, and some of the National newspapers, were showing pictures of a young woman and child who had been reported missing. The woman looked like I had and the child was the same age as the young boy I had taken.

‘After a few weeks there was an anonymous tip-off that the woman and her child had fled the country. I even saw CCTV on the television supposedly of the woman and her child going over to France, although the film was grainy and dark. It was me on the footage. They checked and the tickets were booked in the missing woman's name and the passport verified it, but it was me all along. The plan had worked: everyone thought the woman and her child had left the country but she hadn't. I knew that. As far as I know, her and her little boy were never seen again. They just disappeared.'

‘And you never said anything about what had happened?'

‘How could I? I would have got into trouble and been thrown out of the country. I couldn't risk it. But over the years I have worried about what could have really happened to them. Maybe the policeman had done something to them? Maybe the husband had killed them and the policeman was his friend and was trying to help? I don't know. It seemed to me they disappeared here in England and my trip to France was to make people think they were still alive and abroad somewhere else.'

Olga pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed at her eyes which were moist with tears.

‘What happens if they were murdered and I helped the police think they were still alive? I have had sleepless nights worrying over the years whether I might have helped their murderer. When I saw that
Crimewatch
programme with those other mothers with their children who have gone missing it brought it all back to me. My life is good now. Both my parents and I got leave to remain and now Poland is part of the European community there are no problems. We moved away from Dover when the opportunity arose and live in York. It is a very beautiful part of this country. We have worked hard over the years to get what we have. It may not be much, but it is ours and we are proud of it. I never told my mother what I did that day, but I have told my father recently. There seemed no reason to go into a police station and tell them what happened because it was only my suspicions, but now, with this…' She paused, her head lowered again. ‘Will I get into trouble now you know what I did?'

She looked so fragile but Charlie could hardly contain herself. In her mind, her hunch was almost certainly right. There had to be something in the story. It was mind-blowing.

She took a deep breath and looked directly into the woman's eyes.

‘Olga, what you did was well intentioned. You thought you were helping the woman and her child get away from an abusive husband. Plus, you were pretty much forced to take part. You were threatened with arrest, deportation and the deportation of your parents if you didn't do what you were told. At the time you knew no better. Maybe you could have said something later, but, like you said, you only had suspicions. It is all credit to you that you have come forward now to tell us what happened all those years ago. You could have remained silent. It might be that if we can find the missing persons report relating to this mother and child, there might be something there that will link it to our cases and potentially be exactly what we need. I will need to try to track down the television news reports with the CCTV footage and we'll need you to help us with further details. Are you happy to have this all written down in a statement?'

She already knew what the answer would be from Olga's obvious relief at finally being able to share her story.

‘Of course I will. The mother's name was Mary Townsend and her son was Cain. I remember it to this day. I will do anything I can to help you. I wish I had spoken out before, but at least now I might be able to do something to help stop another mother and child going missing.'

*

Charlie rang Hunter straight away. He spoke first at the sound of her voice.

‘Charlie, it's not Bradley Conroy. He's given an alibi for the time when Dana and Gemma went missing. Funnily enough he was stalking Annabel, CCTV captures him in several places and there're quite a few other bits and pieces that don't add up.'

‘Well, you didn't really think it was him anyway, did you?'

‘No, but I was hoping. Would have been a real touch if we'd got the right man and could find out where the victims are.'

She couldn't contain her excitement any longer. ‘Guv, look I think I might be on to something. We need to get in touch with someone in Dover, Kent Constabulary as soon as we can. Get them to search the records for a missing person report in the name of Mary Townsend and her son Cain, reported missing around the end of 1993. I've just met up with the woman I spoke to on
Crimewatch
and she says she was paid by a policeman to pretend to be Mary Townsend and leave the country with her young child to make it look as if she'd run away. She saw all the reports about the case on TV, even saw herself on BBC news. She says that the policeman told her that the woman had run away from her abusive husband and wanted him to think that she had left England to start a new life abroad.'