Behind Closed Doors (24 page)

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Authors: Susan Lewis

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary Fiction, #Literature & Fiction, #Contemporary

BOOK: Behind Closed Doors
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‘Maybe we could meet for a drink on Sunday or Monday? Can I give you a call?’

‘Of course, any time. Do I have to let you go now?’

‘Probably. I’m in my boss’s office and he could walk in at any moment. It was good to hear from you.’

‘It was good to hear you too. Don’t forget to call.’

Still smiling as she rang off, she clicked to open a new text and almost immediately wished she hadn’t.

Dad just told me you’re seeing him tomorrow night. Great news! He’s really pleased, I can tell. Love you both, Ax

‘The alibi’s checked out,’ Leo told her as she walked into the incident room a few minutes later. ‘The warden’s saying he did find Perkins in a golf cart on the morning of August 18th. I’m still working on who owns the apartment Suzi’s rented.’

‘OK,’ she responded distractedly. ‘Have you seen Gould?’

‘Not recently. The press office have been on. They’re asking for a statement about Perkins, and they want to know when the Monroes are going to make their appeal.’

‘I’ll pull together a statement,’ she replied, sitting down at her desk, ‘and let’s set up the appeal for seven.’ She checked her watch and reached for the phone to call Gavin and Heidi.

‘It’s Andee Lawrence,’ she said when Lauren Mitchell answered. ‘How’s everything over there?’

‘Not good, I’m afraid,’ Lauren replied. ‘They’ve been told the baby probably has something called Noonan syndrome.’

‘Oh God,’ Andee murmured worriedly. ‘Do you know what that is? Please tell me it’s not life-threatening.’

‘I don’t think so. As far as they know it depends on the severity of his heart defects, and they still don’t have those results. Otherwise, it means he won’t grow very tall, his eyes will be set quite wide apart – I guess we can see that already – and maybe there’ll be other deformities or malfunctions along the way. They won’t really be sure about those until he gets older.’

‘That’s awful,’ Andee said with feeling. How the hell would she cope if it happened to one of hers? ‘How are they taking it?’

‘Quite badly. Mother and baby have hardly stopped crying since they got back and Dad looks like he’s gone to a distant planet.’

‘OK, we’ll put the appeal off till tomorrow. Tell them I’ll be there in the morning to go over it – unless, of course, we manage to locate Sophie tonight.’

‘Is there any chance of that?’

‘I’m trying to remain hopeful. Jemma and Danny are in Bristol working with the local police, interviewing neighbours around where Perkins was found. They haven’t called anything in yet, but there’s still time.’

‘I’ll tell Mr Monroe that. He’ll want to know.’

After ringing off Andee sat back in her chair and pushed her hands through her hair. Now she didn’t have to prep the Monroes tonight she had time to read through the notes that had been added to the database during the day. This would include all the social media reports and Internet rumours that had built up over the past few hours. She wondered if there was a chance she could get away by eight. Possibly, but not likely, so it wouldn’t be fair to call Graeme. She didn’t want to end up having to let him down again. Besides which, if she did find herself with a free couple of hours this evening she really ought to spend them with her mother; she’d managed no private time with her at all since Sophie’s disappearance.

Chapter Ten

MUMMY’S FAVOURITE THINGS:

Sophie, liquorice; kittens; starry nights; singing; playing the guitar; daisy chains; Daddy.

Sophie’s Favourite Things:

Mummy, bubble gum; kittens, the beach, singing with Mummy and Daddy, making daisy chains; Daddy.

Daddy’s Favourite Things:

Sophie and Mummy.

Andee could feel her heart aching as she reread the opening page of Sophie’s journal, written when she was nine years old. How safe and perfect her little world must have seemed to her then. Such a horribly stark contrast to what was happening now.

Whatever was happening now.

Why on earth hadn’t she made contact again? What, who, was stopping her? And why, if she’d had no intention of coming back, hadn’t she taken this diary with her? Anger with her mother for dying? Embarrassment for anyone else to see it?

Andee had brought a copy home to read again without all the hullabaloo of the office going on around her. Her mother and Alayna were in the next room watching TV. Her mother hadn’t wanted to talk about how the disappearance of a fourteen-year-old girl was affecting her, she’d said when Andee had suggested it, unless Andee did of course. Andee didn’t; it was best to keep focused on Sophie, and try not to let her own feelings get in the way of things.

Was she succeeding at that? How often was she seeing Penny when it should be Sophie, or her father when it should be Gavin? More often, she knew, than she’d care to admit. But was it affecting her judgement, or skewing her instincts? She didn’t think so, but how could she really tell?

Flipping on through the diary, she paused to look at various photographs stuck into old- fashioned paper corners. Most were of Sophie’s parents performing on stage, her mother with long wavy blonde hair, sometimes worn in plaits or a ponytail; her father in an assortment of jaunty hats, braces, and for a while with a beard. The Upbeats, they’d called themselves, and judging from the happy smiles and seemingly constant laughter, they’d named themselves well. There were pressed flowers glued on to some pages with their names neatly logged underneath:
bluebell found in Marrin Wood; primrose from our garden; lily of the valley like the one Mummy had when she got married
. There were tickets to special events such as a ride on a steam train; a trip on a riverboat; the Christmas grotto at Longleat; a visit to a petting zoo, plus many others for the various gigs her parents had performed. The shots that moved Andee the most, however, were all of Sophie, as a baby peeking out of a sling worn by her mother; riding her father’s shoulders as a toddler; fast asleep with her rag doll (
Sophie aged 5 and Amelia aged 3
).

Why hadn’t she taken the rag doll?

Because she’d intended to come back?

Because it would appear too childish?

There were several birthday snaps of Sophie blowing out candles and opening presents, and even more showing her taking part in her parents’ shows. Such a tiny girl in some, barely reaching her father’s knees. Andee couldn’t help smiling at the way her dear sweet face glowed with pride; she was clearly thrilled to be on stage with a microphone of her own, doing her best to keep in time with the music.

Then there were her poems.

My parents are really cool singers

They perform on the stage,

They write some of their own songs,

We hope one will become all the rage.

Mummy has blue eyes, Daddy has brown,

Sophie has violet eyes

And her head is on upside down.

Andee could easily imagine the girlish laughter that had no doubt accompanied the silly rhyme and little drawing that went alongside it.

Browsing on through she found many diary entries charting their day-to-day lives.
Got up, went to school, had singing lesson, came home. Got up, Daddy made omelettes for breakfast, Mummy took me to school, my best friend Millie came for tea. Mummy bumped into a lady in town and knocked over her shopping. Mummy had a headache so I did the singing with Daddy, everyone said I was very good, wish Mummy could have seen us. Daddy says he really likes singing with me. Mummy’s birthday today, Daddy gave her flowers and I gave her a necklace I saved up for, she says it’s her favourite one ever and she’s going to wear it all the time. Me and Daddy got loads of applause at Pontins tonight, Daddy cried he was so happy; we wished Mummy could of been there. Mummy not very well again, I wish she’d get better.

As the date of Jilly Monroe’s death came closer Andee decided not to carry on reading, since Sophie’s struggle to understand what was happening to her mother was already affecting her deeply.
Mummy says I have to be brave because she won’t be here for much longer. I don’t want her to go away. Please Jesus, don’t take my mummy away from us. I promise I’ll go to church every Sunday and say my prayers every night
.

Closing the photocopied book, Andee put it on the seat next to her and reached for her wine. She felt overwhelmed by sadness as she considered the way Sophie, out of loneliness and despair, had eventually transferred her trust and affection from the parents who’d so tragically and blamelessly let her down, to Tomasz Sikora – another singer, another man whom she looked up to and who she’d clearly thought could make her feel safe. Towards the end of the book his scribbled name was all over the place, scripted inside love hearts, or featured alongside hers as a part of a
he loves me, he loves me not
game. Even when writing about other men or boys she almost always compared them to Sikora, and Sikora always came out on top.

. . . there’s no one to beat Tomasz.

Would love to have Tomasz’s baby.

Really, really love T, and I know he loves me.

Going to tell T how I feel about him. I know he’ll say I’m too young, but I don’t see how age makes a difference.

Wish I could run away with him so we could be together and I wouldn’t have to put up with the WSM any more.

So had Sophie talked him into taking her away? She guessed there was even a possibility she’d blackmailed him into it, though Andee was far from convinced about that. More likely, she thought, Sikora, Perkins too, had been subtly grooming her, allowing her to think they were friends when their intentions had been . . .

Looking up as her mother came into the room, she said, ‘Are you off to bed?’

‘In a minute,’ Maureen replied. ‘I’d like to see you eat something before I go.’

Andee smiled. ‘Once a mother,’ she teased.

Maureen was serious. ‘I know you’re tormenting yourself with this case,’ she said, glancing at the diary, ‘and you must try to find a way to stop.’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Andee assured her. ‘I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.’

‘That was selfish of me, because we both know that on one level at least, you’re thinking if you can find Sophie, you’ll somehow be finding Penny, but it doesn’t work like that.’

‘I know it doesn’t, and I promise you, I’m not losing sight of reality.’

Coming to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of her, Maureen reached for her hands. ‘I hope you mean that,’ she said earnestly.

Andee looked surprised. ‘Do you think I am?’ she queried.

Maureen shook her head. ‘I don’t know. It’s hard for me to tell when I’m not in your world, but I do know, if I was in your shoes I would be finding this very difficult indeed.’

‘More difficult would be to sit back and let someone else take it over.’

‘I suppose I can understand that. But you’re hardly eating, Andee, or sleeping, and that’s not good.’

‘If I have something to eat now will it make you happy?’

Maureen smiled. ‘Actually, it would. I’ll even fix it for you.’

‘You don’t have to.’

‘I’d like to, and perhaps we could have a chat about Martin, if only to take your mind off this case for a while.’

Andee frowned. ‘What about Martin?’

‘Alayna tells me you’re seeing him tomorrow night.’

‘Ye-es.’

‘Well, I know how keen she is for you two to get back together. I was just wondering if it’s what you want?’

Moving restlessly, Andee said, ‘Aren’t you forgetting something? His girlfriend is here . . .’

‘But I happen to agree with Alayna, I think he wants a reconciliation with you.’

‘How can you say that when he’s blatantly involved with somebody else?’

‘That may be so, but . . .’

‘Mum, it isn’t going to happen.’

‘Why? Because you don’t want it to? Or are you saying that to try and protect yourself?’

‘Either way, it doesn’t really matter.’


Do
you want it?’ Maureen pressed.

Andee started to answer, but realised she wasn’t sure what to say. ‘It’s complicated,’ she managed in the end, ‘and as I just pointed out, he has someone else now, so how about we stop all this nonsense and go into the kitchen so you can feed your hungry daughter?’

The following morning Andee was standing at the entrance to Blue Ocean Park, staring across the street to the Leisure Park. She’d spent the past hour with Gould, DCI Spender, DCSI May and a battalion of CPS advisers, trying – and failing – to persuade them to involve Interpol in the search for Tomasz Sikora.

‘As there’s nothing to suggest the girl’s been taken out of the country,’ she’d been told, ‘or to say that she even left the campsite with Sikora, we cannot sanction your request.’

‘So what you’re saying is we have to wait for a body to turn up before anyone’s going to take this seriously,’ she’d cried.

They’d already been getting up to leave the room; for them the decision had been made, and they weren’t prepared to stay and argue it further.

‘I tried,’ Gould told her as soon as the door closed behind them, ‘but getting them all round the table so you could make your case was the best I could do.’

Now, as she dealt with the frustration of it, her eyes remained fixed on the funfair as though somewhere in all the mayhem was an answer she should be seeing, but was somehow missing. She’d woken early that morning with too many questions niggling away at her, though one at least had now been answered.

‘Suzi Perkins moved into the Kesterly flat yesterday,’ Leo told her. ‘It’s owned by a company called Manifold Properties, which happens to own Blue Ocean Park.’

‘Yesterday,’ Andee repeated. ‘Presumably after Perkins was arrested, but before his lawyer realised there was no chance of getting him out on bail.’

‘Seems a safe presumption.’

So the Poynters were helping Perkins, in spite of Jackie Poynter expressing disgust at his criminal record during her interview with Leo and Barry. She’d gone on to blame Heidi for not carrying out the proper background checks.

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