Gone (10 page)

Freeman knocked on the door and waited a few minutes before Ray Thorley opened up. He looked bleary eyed, like he’d been sleeping despite being fully clothed. He took a minute to focus his eyes and recall her name from the depths of his mind and then smiled a kind of weary smile.

‘Miss Freeman,’ he said. ‘You’re back again.’ He edged back just enough to let her through, clearly trying to minimise the amount of cold air that got in.

‘I hope I’m not disturbing you,’ Freeman said. ‘I just wanted to ask you a few more questions.’ As she’d driven over she’d told herself it was probably a pointless exercise – Ray Thorley was unlikely to remember any more about his daughter’s friends and associates, even if he had once known. But anything was worth a try.

Ray led her through to the living room and the sudden heat from the ancient gas fire made Freeman’s cheeks flush. The TV played in the background, some American show from the seventies or early eighties, one that only the elderly or unemployed knew of. Ray muted the volume and took a seat in his chair.

‘Mr Thorley, do you know if Emma had a friend called Jenny Taylor? Did she ever mention her?’

Ray shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I don’t recall her friends too well.’ He looked down at his hands and rubbed them. Freeman wondered if he had arthritis or something. He couldn’t possibly be cold with the heating turned up that high.

‘There was one girl. Diane,’ he said. ‘She still saw her now and then, I think.’

‘Right. Diane Royle. You mentioned her. And you were right, someone interviewed her when Emma disappeared.’ Freeman made another mental note to read Diane’s statement. She doubted there was anything useful in it if the girls had no longer been close. ‘Was Diane in trouble too? Did she—’

‘No, no,’ Ray said, shaking his head. ‘Diane was good as gold. But I know she came around a bit even after my Emma started with it all. She might know something about this other girl.’

‘Do you know where I could find her?’ Freeman asked.

Ray closed his eyes and shook his head as if he were angry with himself. ‘Not Diane, but I used to see her dad down the club,’ he said. ‘Frank. Frank Royle. That was it. I think he still lives down by the hospital.’

‘Thank you, Ray,’ Freeman said. ‘You’ve been very helpful. I’ll be in touch.’

Freeman got back in her car, hands frozen from just the short walk from the house. She dialled Lloyd.

‘All right, boss,’ he said.

‘I need you to find a number for me. Diane Royle. I’ve got no idea if she’s still local but you could try her dad, Frank Royle. Apparently he’s still living by the hospital.’

‘Okay,’ Lloyd replied. ‘Who’s this, then? Another smackhead?’

Ignoring his comment, she asked, ‘How’re you getting on with Jenny Taylor? Emma’s dad’s never heard of her.’

‘Still working on it, boss.’

‘Let me know when you’ve got it,’ she said. ‘And if Routledge’s asking for me, I’m going to see Ben Swales. Just like he asked.’

Chapter 20

15 July 1999

‘Take a seat,’ Gardner said and Lucas Yates slunk into the chair. The last thing he wanted to be doing this morning was talking to some smug little shit about a girl who’d probably show up in a couple of days anyway. But here they were. His head was pounding and Yates was pissing him off already. He really wished he hadn’t finished off that bottle of vodka the night before.

‘Where’s Emma?’ Gardner said.

Yates looked up at Gardner; his eyes creased as if he were staring into the sun. ‘Emma who?’

Gardner dragged out the chair opposite Yates and sank into it. ‘Emma Thorley.’

Yates shrugged. ‘Don’t know,’ he said and pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Gardner just stared at him and Yates grinned, turning the box round and round in his hand.

‘When was the last time you saw her?’

Yates shrugged slowly. ‘Who knows?’ He smiled again, showing his crooked teeth, and Gardner wanted to reach over and punch them down his throat. Yates wasn’t the most obnoxious person he’d sat across from in this room – he’d have to go some to win that title – but he’d chosen the wrong day to piss Gardner about.

‘Emma was living with you for about a month in February. That right?’

‘Yeah. And?’

‘Is she living with you now?’ Gardner asked.

‘No.’

‘You mind if we check your flat?’

Yates’ jaw clenched. ‘You got a warrant?’

‘No,’ Gardner said, slowly. ‘I’m asking your permission.’

‘And I’m telling you she’s not there,’ Yates said, each word slower than the last.

‘Prick.’ Gardner stood up and went to the door.

‘Can I go?’

‘No,’ Gardner said and slammed the door behind him. He’d already spoken to Ben Swales that morning and he’d pretty much agreed with him that the most likely place to find Emma was with Lucas Yates. Yes, she’d tried to get off the drugs, but according to Swales it hadn’t gone as well as Ray Thorley had suggested.

He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed for the hammering in his head to stop. When he opened his eyes he saw PC Griffin walking towards him. ‘Any luck?’ he asked.

Griffin shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

Gardner sighed. He knew full well that Yates wasn’t going to let them into his flat without a fight. Hence bringing him in for a while so that Griffin could go and take a look unhindered. It was worth a try. And just because she wasn’t there right now didn’t mean she hadn’t been with him at all.

‘Thanks anyway,’ Gardner said and headed back to the interview room to let the little shit go.

Lucas watched the door to the interview room open but instead of DC Gardner, with his face like thunder, it was DS Stuart Wallace and his fat little sidekick McIlroy.

‘All right, Lucas,’ Wallace said, and checked the corridor before closing the door behind him. Wallace was a prick. Thought he was a clever bastard, playing both sides, but he’d made himself useful once or twice before. ‘I heard you were darkening our doors again,’ Wallace said, resting one foot on Gardner’s vacated chair while he pulled a pack of gum from his pocket. ‘Hope you’ve not been a naughty boy, Lucas.’

Lucas glared at Wallace. He’d tell him to piss off but he wanted to see how it played out. See what Wallace could do for him.

‘Has our DC Gardner been giving you a hard time? You want me to sort him out?’ Wallace looked at McIlroy and they giggled like kids.

Lucas sighed. ‘What do you want, Wallace?’

‘Nothing,’ Wallace said, standing up straight again. ‘I just thought I’d come in and say hello, see if I could be of assistance, but if you’re going to be like that . . .’ Wallace shrugged and walked back to the door. McIlroy was still standing there, folded arms resting on his gut.

‘What do you know about Emma Thorley?’ Lucas asked.

Wallace frowned, as if he were trying to get his brain into gear. ‘Not a lot to know. Missing junkie. Gone for a week or something. Why? You know her? One of your slappers, is she?’

Lucas shrugged. ‘So that’s it? Just a missing person. Nothing else going on?’

‘No. Why, you got something you want to tell me, Lucas? A dirty little secret?’

Lucas just glared at him and Wallace laughed. ‘Chill out, mate. Just kidding. Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing to this. Heard Gardner talking to the boss. Reckons she’ll turn up in a few days, always does.’

The door opened and Gardner looked even more pissed off than when he’d left.

‘What the fuck are you doing in here?’ he asked Wallace and McIlroy.

‘Just talking about our love lives,’ McIlroy said and winked at Lucas before walking out. Lucas watched as Gardner’s face reddened, his fingers curling into fists. He could hear Wallace whistling down the corridor. Tuneless git.

‘You. Out,’ Gardner said and Lucas wondered what he’d missed. But he didn’t need telling twice. He walked past Gardner, waiting to be escorted out of the building. Instead Gardner slammed the door behind him, leaving Lucas wondering what the fuck had just happened.

Chapter 21

14 December 2010

Freeman headed for Alnwick and turned on the stereo. Bikini Kill came on, blasting out ‘White Boy’. She turned it off and switched to the radio. She didn’t need to fuel her anger, she needed to think. She found Radio 2 and listened to someone being interviewed about something or other and let her mind wander. Wondering what Ben Swales would say when she showed up at his door.

She pulled up outside the address she had for Ben. There was an old car on the drive, even crappier than hers. Freeman looked at the house. It was nothing special, just an ordinary semi, but she’d bet it’d cost a lot more than the same kind of houses at home. She could barely afford to rent the piece of crap she was living in, so how did Ben Swales afford this? She couldn’t imagine drug counselling paid
that
well.

There didn’t seem to be any lights on in the house but she couldn’t be sure. The house across the street was lit up like Vegas with dozens of flashing Santas and reindeer, so much so that the houses on Ben’s side probably didn’t need to bother with their own lights throughout December.

She got out of the car, walked up the drive and knocked on the front door. After a minute or so a light came on in the hall and a figure emerged at the door. Freeman could hear a key turning in a lock and whoever was on the other side was pulling on the door, trying to un-jam it. She considered pushing from her side to speed things up but instead stood and waited, hoping her feet wouldn’t freeze completely.

The door finally opened and a man stood there with a tea towel slung over his shoulder and a pair of what Freeman called ‘granddad slippers’ on his feet. His hair, or what was left of it, was a reddish colour and it looked like he cut it himself. She had a sudden image in her head that this was what Brian would look like in fifteen years’ time. The thought of her being there with him, in her own granny slippers, being run ragged by a herd of kids, made her feel ill.

‘Yes?’ he said.

‘Ben Swales?’

‘Yes.’

Freeman showed him her ID. ‘I’m DS Freeman. Can I come in?’

Ben swallowed and nodded. He stepped back and allowed Freeman in before turning to the door and trying to coax it back into the door frame. He managed to get it closed and smiled nervously at Freeman. He showed her through to the kitchen and tossed the towel onto the table. He hadn’t even asked why she was there.

‘I’m sorry, I was just washing up.’ He looked around and gathered two mugs from the drainer. ‘Please, take a seat. Can I get you a drink?’

Freeman didn’t usually bother with cups of tea when she went into people’s homes, but she was so cold that she couldn’t refuse the offer.

‘Thank you, tea would be great,’ she said and Ben turned away from her to boil the kettle. Freeman sat down and dropped her bag on the floor beside the table.

From upstairs a woman’s voice called his name. Freeman turned towards the sound.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘That’s my mother. I’ll be right back.’ He walked out of the kitchen and Freeman listened to him go up the stairs. She could hear him moving around, the floorboards creaking, and the muffled sound of voices. A few minutes later Ben walked back in and finished making the tea.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘She’s confined to bed. She can be needy.’

‘It must be difficult. Do you have any help to care for her?’

He shook his head. ‘No, it’s just me.’

‘What about work?’ Freeman asked.

‘I gave up a couple of years ago when she took a turn for the worse. I do the occasional day if I can get someone to watch her but it’s a rarity now.’

Ben poured the water and looked at Freeman over his shoulder. She thought he was going to ask about milk and sugar.

‘Sorry, can I ask what this is about?’ he said.

‘Oh, sorry,’ Freeman replied. ‘I’m investigating a possible murder. I’m just trying to speak to anyone who knew the victim.’ Ben’s face was blank. ‘Have you seen the news? A body was found in Blyth.’