continuing.
‘Last night, when Lucy was reported missing, we had a car patrol in the area while Nat and Jenny spoke to the parents. By then it was approaching midnight. Nobody was about and there was no sign of the girl. Neither Debbie nor either set of parents thought it remotely possible that Lucy had gone to visit somebody else. So, at the moment we have nothing but a missing girl.’
While the DI was talking, Mike Potts raised both hands to stifle a yawn and Nat Borrowdale appeared to be trying, without success, to catch the eye of Jenny Eastham. Saunders leant forward in his chair.
‘We’re assuming Lucy’s been abducted but, as yet, we have no evidence and no scene of crime although we currently have SOCO and uniform searching both routes between the girls’ homes. Perhaps we’ll get lucky. All the uniform officers on the morning shift are out with Lucy’s description and the photo but we’ve had no reported sightings.’
Looking directly at Ed, Saunders asked, ‘Where would you go from here?’
From the moment Jenny had begun her summary Ed had pushed aside all thoughts of her reception and focused fully on the case.
‘Do we have Lucy’s mobile number?’
Nat moved to consult his notebook.
Jenny began reciting, ‘07867—’
Nat immediately interrupted. ‘If he has any sense he’ll have switched it off.’
Mike cleared his throat and started to explain many areas didn’t have reception.
Ed coughed and cut across them all. ‘If we don’t get forensics to try locating her mobile we’ll never know.’
From the other side of the table, Brian Saunders held up a hand and said, ‘That was the first thing I authorized. Her mobile’s off or in an area with no reception. If the abductor has any sense, he’s removed the SIM.’
‘Thanks.’ Ed knew this was the moment she had to impress the team. As inconspicuously as possible, she took a deep breath.
‘Right, given the time of night, I assume the interviews with the Naylors and the Shaxteds were brief so we should question them in more detail. They’ll probably not come up with anything new so we need witnesses who saw something that might help. As a starter, we should cover every property on the routes Lucy could have taken from Debbie’s house in Victoria Road to her own in Hollowmede.’
‘Agreed.’ Saunders looked at DC Eastham. ‘Jenny, take Ed to talk to the parents. Mike, you and Nat organize the door-to-door. Split the two routes between you. Has anybody anything to add?’
Nobody spoke.
‘Right, we’ll meet back here in 30 minutes.’ His eyes moved to meet Ed’s. ‘Come with me. I’ll show you your desk.’
Ed followed Saunders to her desk where he left her in order to see the Super. Clearly it was going to be a busy day. Ed called the estate agent to rearrange her viewings for Sunday.
There was no sunlight and no birdsong as Lucy began to wake. Still drowsy, she reached out with her right hand to find Tomkins the Ted. These days he was the only one of her fluffy toys she allowed to share her bed. She couldn’t find him. He wasn’t there. That was strange; he was always there. Her uneasiness began to bubble into panic and then all was well. She was at the seaside. Tomkins must be safe at home. She was on the beach at Broadstairs. She could hear the Punch and Judy, ‘That’s the way to do it’.
‘Ah … you’re awake. Excuse the voice. Don’t be frightened. I’m going to treat you well.’
It wasn’t Mr Punch. She remembered that voice, those words. Her rising panic was replaced by a cold, debilitating fear. Lucy tried to turn towards the voice but couldn’t, her left arm was held by something soft but unyielding. She was helpless. Panic overcame her helplessness and she struggled against the restraint but it held firm. Fighting back tears of fear and frustration she raised her head and looked towards the voice. It was there, the figure from last night, standing outside the wire mesh partition, staring at her through two holes cut in its black hood. Without realizing what she was doing, Lucy began to scream.
The figure waited patiently until her cries weakened. Then the strange voice, the Mr Punch voice, came again.
‘Please don’t pull at the handcuff. I really don’t want you to hurt yourself. You’ll probably want to use the primitive sanitation. Remember the bucket at the end of the bed. There’s soap, water, and a towel on the table. I’ll step outside for ten minutes while you do what you have to do.’
Lucy watched him leave and biological necessity overcame her fear. The bucket disgusted her. It was difficult to use it while chained to the wall but she had no choice. She hurried to wash, not sure when he would return. It was at least ten minutes before she heard a knock and his Mr Punch voice call, ‘I’m coming in!’ She didn’t reply. A few moments later the door opened and he came back into the building.
‘Breakfast is limited this morning. There’s buttered toast with jam and tea, instant coffee or a glass of milk. The milk’s room temperature. There’s no fridge. Otherwise there’s water.’
Lucy wanted to be strong, to argue logically as she did in the debates at school but the panic returned, overwhelming her intentions.
‘I don’t want breakfast. Just let me go.’ She looked at him pleadingly, unable to keep the fear from her voice or the tears from her eyes. ‘Please … please let me go.’
He didn’t respond. The eyes behind the black hood looked at her impassively.
‘Why are you keeping me here? What do you want? Just let me go and I’ll not say anything. I’ll tell them I can’t remember what happened.’
Desperate to convince him, she was surprised that a clear logic was returning to her thoughts. To sway her captor she must tell him what he would like to hear.
‘I’ll say I don’t know what came over me, that when I came to my senses I found myself wandering the back streets of Canterbury. I was disorientated. Then I recognized where I was. I got myself together and walked home.’
While she spoke, the figure continued to remain silent but, as soon as she paused, it took command.
‘It’s imperative you remain here. You’ll be alone for much of the time but I’ll always return. Eventually, when I’m ready, I’ll let you go back to your family. For the moment, you need some food. I’ll get toast and while you’re eating we’ll make a shopping list for all the things you’ll need.’
He didn’t wait for a response but began to prepare breakfast.
Despite her fear Lucy decided it was best to play along with her captor. She was also hungry. As she ate the toast, he encouraged her to give him a list of what she would need: food and drink for a week and some changes of clothes. Already she was getting used to his Mr Punch voice.
‘I’ll get you a toothbrush and toothpaste, of course. However, perhaps there’ll be some more feminine items you’ll need. Remember you could be here for a month, perhaps six weeks or so. Here’s the list and a pencil. Write down all the extras you’ll need and add your sizes for the clothes.’
He asked her to give him the breakfast plate and glass through the slot in the chain link and, in return, passed her the paper and pencil. As she wrote he washed the breakfast things.
‘Have you finished?’
She offered the paper through the slot.
‘Don’t forget the pencil.’
She passed him the pencil.
‘I’m leaving now to do this shopping. It’ll take a few hours. Here’s a bottle of water and