Twisted (6 page)

Amy’s dressing table was heaped with cheap jewellery, perfumes and makeup, bottles of shampoos and conditioners, a matted hairbrush and comb. Marcus searched around, opening a couple of drawers, discovering creased underwear and old tights, vest tops and nightdresses. He then thumbed through all the latest magazines from the pile on top in case there was something between the pages, and tossed them aside to look under the bed, only to find old slippers and a few books covered with an accumulated level of dust. He couldn’t recall ever vacuuming beneath it and he doubted Amy bothered. The bedside table drawer was full of broken bits and pieces of necklaces and beads – no letters, no notebooks, or photo albums, nothing of any use. He next checked out the wardrobe, opening a suitcase, a couple of backpacks and a smaller vanity case. All were empty. Left plugged into a wall socket was her mobile charger, but no phone. Standing in the untidy room he could see nothing that gave any indication of where she might have gone, or who she might have been with.

He returned to the kitchen and brewed up a strong black coffee, sitting on a stool by the breakfast counter as he wondered if Lena had any news. He was about to call her when he glanced at the wall calendar pinned up beside a cork notice board. Amy had begun by circling the weekends she would be staying, but had not bothered for almost six months as she simply called him instead. The corkboard was full of receipts, dry-cleaning tickets, phone numbers for his gym and hairdresser, and invitations to dinners and cocktail parties. There was nothing connected to Amy, no old message left for him, but there was a picture cut out of a Sunday supplement of a King Charles Spaniel puppy. Amy had always wanted a dog, but it was just not possible.

Meanwhile, Lena was at Richmond Police Station, sitting in front of Detective Constable Barbara Burrows, a fresh-faced young woman with shoulder-length auburn hair. She worked on the Richmond Missing Persons Unit and was painstakingly and methodically writing down details for the ‘misper’ report. The slow procedure was beginning to frustrate Lena and she felt that someone of a higher rank should be talking to her. By now she was very concerned, and to be asked so many questions and forced to repeat herself over and over again about her marriage and separation was irritating. DC Burrows was taking care to cover every angle, as she needed to have a very detailed report to put on the Met’s missing persons database and also the National Missing Persons computer. Burrows explained to Lena there were three risk categories for missing persons – high, medium and low. Due to Amy’s age, and the circumstances, it was possible she had run away and would probably be treated as a medium risk; however, enquiries and searches to try and locate her would still be carefully orchestrated. She told Lena her unit detective inspector was due in shortly and would be checking the report and classifying Amy’s risk category. Lena had become very impatient when asked about boyfriends; to her knowledge Amy did not have any, nor had she ever mentioned she was seeing someone. Burrows had asked about whether or not her father would know, and Lena had replied rather sharply that he did not, and she had asked him to stay home and call the local hospitals.

‘And he’s doing that now, is he?’

‘Yes – do you want me to call him?’

‘I think so, as hopefully he may have already talked to your daughter.’

Lena took out her mobile, to find a message that as from a short while ago Marcus had no further news about Amy’s whereabouts. Now she was growing increasingly anxious watching Burrows making copious notes but not appearing to show any cause for alarm, and it was starting to make her lose her temper.

‘My daughter has not been seen by anyone I know of for the entire weekend or yesterday, she has not even turned up for school, and it is now Tuesday. I need you to tell me exactly what I should – or what the police should – be doing, as I am really very concerned.’

Burrows stood up and closed her notebook. ‘Leave this with me for a moment. Would you like a drink of some—’ Lena interrupted.

‘You want me to wait in here?’

‘Yes please, Mrs Fulford. I need to talk to one of my colleagues.’

The small room was stuffy and Lena unbuttoned her coat, drawing it low to her shoulders. Her right foot was twitching with impatience. With nothing else to do she called Marcus, who answered immediately, sounding concerned.

‘Did you get my message?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve tried everything we thought of but got nowhere. I’ve been waiting for you to call. Where are you?’

‘I’m at the police station. I’ve been here since I last spoke to you. I’ve got this young detective woman driving me crazy, asking me the same questions over and over. Did Amy have a boyfriend, Marcus? It feels as if she thinks Amy’s simply run away, but I know she wouldn’t do that. She’s always so good about keeping in touch with me when she’s not at home – this is the first time I can remember her not checking in. So, was she seeing some boy?’

‘Not that I know of – she never mentioned having anyone to me. You know how she was always texting and using her iPhone so there’s no address book, or notebooks here, nothing that would tell me how to reach her friends. I know she was with Serena, is it? For the sleepover – I knew about that. Christ, you don’t think she’s gone off with a teacher? There was that case a few years back when the girl went off with her teacher—’

He was talking very fast, his words tripping over each other, and she had to ask him to be quiet so she could think what next to say. ‘I have met all her teachers and I don’t think that is even a possibility, but I speak from my side – I have no idea what you two did, or if she met someone, maybe a friend of yours.’

‘For chrissakes, nobody I know would date my fucking daughter – that’s preposterous.’

‘Marcus, I am here by myself, and if you had any thought for me left, you would be here with me. This is a nightmare and I am seriously worried that something has happened to Amy, because she would not simply take off without a word to you or me.’

He gave a heavy sigh and, obviously trying to keep himself calm, said he would come to the police station, if she thought it was necessary. Lena told him that he would have to be interviewed if there was still no word from Amy.

‘Call the school again, Marcus, see if there’s any news, and at the same time ask for contact numbers and email addresses for all Amy’s friends.’

‘What are the police doing to try and find her?’

‘Nothing as yet,’ Lena replied dismissively. ‘I have been left in a dank little interview room, so I don’t know what if anything anybody is doing. The officer took details for a missing person report and said she had to discuss the situation with her detective inspector and he would decide what happens next. It’s nearly three days since anyone saw Amy and to be honest I am starting to feel as if they are not taking it seriously enough, and I am at my wits’ end.’

‘Okay, listen, hang in there, I’ll call the school, and get back to you. Stay positive, I’m certain there will be some reason she’s not returned to school, and I’ll do my best to find out, okay? Lena? Are you all right?’

‘Yes, but call me if you hear anything.’

Marcus made the call and had a frustrating conversation with Amy’s headmistress. At first, instead of being helpful, she was anything but, explaining that she could not give private email addresses or contact numbers of other pupils without their parents’ permission. Eventually she said she was obviously very concerned and would, if he wished to come and see her, seek permission for the details he requested. She also said that according to the pupils’ logbook, Amy had signed out for her weekend and they had given Mrs Newman a copy of the letter confirming that Amy was permitted to have a sleepover with their daughter Serena. They had expected Amy to return on the Sunday evening, but Serena had returned on her own, saying that Amy was staying with her father. On Monday morning when she had still not returned, they called Mrs Fulford and left several messages before they heard back from her. Marcus thanked her for the information and asked if under the circumstances she would be willing to give him Mrs Newman’s phone number, as he really needed to speak with her. The headmistress agreed.

Immediately the woman hung up, Marcus called Mrs Newman to ask her exactly what she recalled about the Saturday afternoon.

‘I am so sorry that you still haven’t heard from Amy. It must be very distressing for you both, but I really can’t add anything to what I already told your wife.’

‘Would you mind going over it again for me please, from when Amy and Serena got back to your house from school?’

‘Well, Serena told me they had originally intended to go shopping and then see the five-thirty showing of a movie at the local cinema. It was shortly after arriving here from school that Amy told Serena she had to go to see you as she wanted to collect something.’

‘What did she need to see me about?’

‘I don’t believe Amy was specific on the matter, Mr Fulford. Anyway Serena decided to stay here, wash her hair and wait for Amy’s return. Serena was rather angry because she waited in all afternoon, and even left messages for Amy, but got no reply so she went to the cinema with some other friends.’

‘Did no one think to call me or Lena?’

‘We don’t have a number for you, Mr Fulford, and I did leave a message on your wife’s house phone but got no reply. I feel very guilty about not being more worried at the time, but Serena said that Amy often stayed weekends with you and she would no doubt turn up at school on Sunday.’

Marcus had listened patiently, and although annoyed that Mrs Newman didn’t do more, kept his calm and asked if she could give him contact numbers of Serena’s friends. She took an age away from the phone before returning and giving him details of three girls who were friends of Serena’s from her previous school. She thought they did know Amy, but she couldn’t be sure.

‘Do you know if Amy had a boyfriend?’

‘No. It’s not something I ever asked her or that Serena mentioned to me. I’m so sorry that I can’t be of more assistance, Mr Fulford, but if there is any way that I or my daughter can help you or your wife then please don’t hesitate to call.’

Marcus thanked her, and she said he should really call her by her Christian name.

‘It’s Harriet, and my husband is Bill.’

‘Right, Harriet, I appreciate you taking the time to talk to me.’

‘Please, under the circumstances you must be frantic. I hope nothing serious has happened and would appreciate it if you keep me updated.’

‘I will – thank you, Harriet.’

It was now approaching eleven a.m. Marcus rang Lena, who sounded really tense, to give her a brief rundown of what he’d been doing. He suggested they go to the school to talk with the headmistress, but Lena said that she’d have to call him back as a policewoman had just walked in.

Lena accepted a cup of tea, as the uniformed officer apologized for keeping her waiting but DC Burrows was having a meeting with her superior, DI Reid, and he would be coming in to talk to her in a moment.

‘If you think of anything more that might be important, often just the smallest thing can be extremely helpful,’ the policewoman said.

Lena closed her eyes and sighed. ‘I just can’t understand it. She has never done anything like this before, it’s totally out of character.’

‘Would you like a notebook and pen?’

‘What?’

‘Just thinking, before DI Reid comes in to talk to you, if there is anything you think might be of use, it’s very difficult to be kept waiting, but he has only just come on duty and is going over all the information.’

The tea tasted stewed and Lena was exhausted. She shook her head and then burst into tears. ‘I don’t understand it. I mean, she’s very clever and has no problems with exams and I’ve wracked my brains thinking what could possibly be the reason she’s not contacted us. My husband has been trying to talk to someone that might know, but . . .’ She took a tissue out of her coat pocket and blew her nose.

‘Will he be coming here to be with you? Your husband?’ Lena wiped her eyes, and gave a shrug. ‘I don’t know – we’re actually going through a divorce so we don’t live together, but she was not staying with either of us but had a sleepover with a school friend. I’ve told all this to what’s-her-name, the other policewoman that interviewed me. I have been here for hours and I am really getting very anxious. How long do I have to wait until somebody does something?’

‘I’ll go and see what’s happening. Would you like another cup of tea?’

‘No, I really want to get some guidance as to what I should be doing – better still, what the police should be doing.’

Left alone, Lena blew her nose again, and stuffed the crumpled tissue back into her coat pocket. She drew the notebook closer, picked up the pen and stared at the empty page. She truthfully could think of no reason why Amy would have gone for such a length of time without making contact with either her or Marcus.

In his office on the first floor of the station, DI Victor Reid was still thumbing through the neat meticulous notes made by Burrows. He had been late getting into the station as he had been held up by a gas leak that had made the traffic snarled up around Richmond town centre. Before that he had been stuck behind a long line of traffic over Twickenham Bridge, and the build-up had turned a journey that usually took ten minutes from his flat in St Margarets into almost an hour.

Barbara sat in front of him, watching as he read each page, back and forth, before he stood up to put his jacket back on. DI Reid was quite a snazzy dresser. Today he was wearing a pale blue shirt with a dark blue tie, a well-cut grey suit and suede shoes. He had the kind of thick curly hair that made his chiselled face boyish, but there was a steely quality to his dark eyes. She’d noticed that often he needed to shave twice a day as he had a five o’clock shadow by early evening.

Although in his late thirties, Reid only had ten years’ police service, all of which had, up until his promotion to detective inspector, been as a uniform officer. A ‘late joiner’, he had previously worked for a very reputable estate agents for many years, gradually moving up to become an area manager and then head of corporate business sales. He was respected, well paid and travelled extensively round the UK, but found the work tedious and never really made friends with other employees in the business. He found them to be mostly pompous ex-public schoolboys in cheap grey suits and down-at-heel black shoes, whose aggressive attitude infuriated him. An only child from a lower-middle-class family, he was doted on by his parents. They were proud at him gaining a grammar school place and then attending Kingston College; sadly, they both died when he was in his twenties. He owned his small flat outright and, having bought it when he was an estate agent, he got a good deal. He had thought long and hard before finally deciding to join the police service and it was partly due to his long-standing relationship with a lawyer he’d met when showing her round a property. He’d intended to marry her, but she broke off the relationship and started to date a barrister. It had been a painful time made worse when she said she left him because he was boring, but the break-up instigated his decision to finally change careers.