Echoes of the Past (11 page)

Danny
scrutinized the pictures. He was certain he had not come across any of them. “Where did you find these?” he asked flicking through the pictures.

“Believe
it or not, it was Lee that brought them to my attention; she thought they all looked a bit like Angela Harrison.”

Danny
nodded slowly in agreement. “Wait, do you think that there may be a connection to the Harrison case?”

Tom
rubbed the back of his neck. “My gut is telling me to take a look.”

“What
makes you think they have a connection?”

“Tell
you what, Danny, I’m going to finish up here and get back and see how Jess is doing. But if you want to come round later tonight, I should have sorted through what I’ve found here, maybe it will interest you.”

Danny
shrugged, he didn’t sense any intrigue, he would be happy to spend a little time going over cold cases with Tom, he found he never got tired of soaking up all his experience. “See you round eight then, Sarge.”

Tom
finished printing off the information he had found online and on the police computer about the three missing women before heading home to see Jess. The more he found, the more convinced he was that they were all connected.

*****

John Caulder watched the Jeep drive up the high street passed the door of his hotel. The rumour in the village was that Tom Hunter was waiting on a retirement date due to his health, but he was spending as much time at the station as he had before, if not more.

It
was going on to 4pm; it was time for his usual call to Samantha. He had to be sure she was taking her meds, looking after herself. He pulled a metal chair out from the table that sat just outside the hotel, only smokers sat here in the cold months. He fished around under his apron for the mobile phone in his pocket and punched in Sam’s number.

“Hi,
Honey, its Dad.”

“Hi,
Dad.” The voice was slow to respond on the other end of the phone.

“How
you been?”

“Not
so good, Dad, I’ve been having some bad dreams.”

“You
taking your meds?”

No
reply.

“Sam,
have you been taking all your medication?”

“Yes,
Dad.”

“You’re
sure?”

“I’ve
been taking everything I’m supposed to. It’s not helping.”

John was silent. He rubbed his eyes with the fat knuckle of his index finger. He had been down this road so many times, he was tired. So tired. “Have you spoken to your counsellor about these dreams?”

“No.”

“Well maybe you should talk about it.”

Silence.
“Sam?”

“It’s
not the type of dream I can talk about, Dad.” She lowered her voice to a whisper as though someone might over hear. “The dreams are about Angela.”

John
felt as though he had just been punched in the gut. He had not heard her name for over thirty years and now she seemed to be every bloody place he turned. “Now why the hell would you be dreaming about all that again, Sam, I thought all that was behind us.” John could barely keep the anger from his voice. Everything he had done and now the crap was all starting up again.

“Sorry,
Dad. I didn’t mean to make you mad. I just, I just …”

“Stop
stuttering, Sam! Stop and think about what you want to say and say it. Don’t stutter.”

There
was a long pause. “I’m sorry, Dad. I don’t know why, she just seemed to be in my head a lot lately. I sometimes miss having a best friend. I’ll speak to my counsellor; see if maybe she can help me with it.”

John
thought for a moment. “That maybe the best thing. But, Sam, be careful of what you say now, you don’t want to be getting into any trouble.”

“Yes,
Dad.”

John
did not feel any better after hearing his daughter’s voice. He usually felt good after a chat with Sam, but nothing seemed to feel right now. He knew he had been short with her. He should have asked her about the dreams, but for over thirty years she had been having the same dreams and John did not really want to know what happened in them. Some things were better off left unsaid.

He
watched Tom get out of his jeep and go in to the coffee shop across the road. He did not know why but he was feeling uneasy. Detective Hunter made him feel that way.

“What
are you looking at?” Peter appeared at the doorway. “Did you call Sam? You know how she gets if your late with the call.”

“I
called her.” John still did not look away from the coffee shop.

“Is
she ok?”

John
considered whether to tell Peter. “No, she’s having dreams again.”

Peter
let out a sigh and pulled the chair out across from his Dad. The metal was cold, he hated sitting outside in this weather. “What did you tell her?”

John
tore his eyes away from the coffee shop and looked at his son. “I told her to take it up with her counsellor.”

Peter
looked at him confused. “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

“To
be honest, son, I’m too tired to care. Just remember, you know nothing about nothing should anyone ask.”

“Well,
I don’t know anything much.”

“Remember
that.” John watched as Tom left the coffee shop with a bag and climbed into his Jeep. As he watched him pull away, he realized what it was about Tom Hunter that made him nervous. They had never had a detective up here before; none of his predecessors had ever looked into cold cases, certainly not Angela’s case. They had for the most part, been rookies starting out, or old men waiting to retire. None of them had the fire that Tom Hunter had, and that was what made him uneasy.

He
stood up and flattened down his apron. As he walked past Peter to go into the hotel, he patted his shoulder gently. “Yes, you remember that, son.”

*****

Tom noticed Matt’s car in the drive as he arrived home. He entered the house to the sound of laughter and chatter.

“What’s
this?”

Gemma
and Lee were on the floor by Jess’s feet playing with a ball of white fur. Matt stood up to greet him.

“Good
to see you, mate.”

“Dad,
look Uncle Matt bought me a kitten, she is
sooo
cute.”

Tom
realized that the fur on the floor was alive. He threw a stare at Matt. “Oh he did, did he?”

“Well,
Tom, I remember when we were growing up the cat at one of the farms had kittens and you were desperate for one.”

“I
was thirteen, Matt, and as I recall neither your parents nor mine was willing to indulge us.” Tom had by now, placed the coffee shop bag on the chair and was wiggling his fingers in the carpet as the tiny kitten jumped and danced in an attempt to attack. “What have you called her, Jess?”

“Topaz.
Gemma and I thought it went well with her blue eyes.”

“And
who is going to look after her when you go back to school may I ask?”

“Well,
won’t you be here, Tom?” Matt asked.

“Not
all the time.” He knew even if he wanted to, he would not be able to get rid of the kitten. She was adorable. “Well, I must thank you, Uncle Matt, for such a thoughtful gift.”

“Now,
now, Tom, I detect some sarcasm in that.”

“We
can keep her can’t we, Dad?”

Tom
nodded defeated. “But you have to be responsible for cleaning up after her and feeding her and so on.”

Jess
promised the earth as long as she was keeping Topaz.

“Anyway,
Elsie gave me some lasagne from the diner so let’s eat.”

“Sorry,
Mr Hunter, my mum will have dinner on already.” Gemma said standing to leave.

“Yeah,
I have to go to, mate, but I will see you guys up at the house next weekend. Maybe have a barbeque or something?”

“It’s
a bit chilly for a barbeque, Matt.”

“Yeah,
well we can sit indoors, I told Jess I want to show off a new horse to her.”

The
date agreed the house emptied out and Tom, Lee and Jess were left with Topaz.

They
all ate dinner in the living room to save Jess the trouble of moving, although she now found she was able to limp around without her crutches, and the pain had reduced greatly.

Topaz
slept peacefully on Jess’s knee. Her white mane giving her the look of a tiny lion.

“Do
you think you will be able to make it up to bed tonight?” Tom asked.

Jess
thought about it, it did not seem as frightening now that she had Topaz with her. and the fear of what had happened in the days before were fading, making her question just how much of it was real, and how much was down to very fertile imaginations.

“If
you can bring up the litter tray for Topaz and some food, I probably could go up.” Jess said.

“So
the cat sleeps in your room now does she?”

Jess
laughed, she knew there was no real point in answering, it was not up for discussion.

By
half past seven, Jess was carried up to bed with a small bundle of fur in her hands.

“I
can walk a bit, Dad,” Jess said.

“Yes
but I don’t want you straining your good leg going up stairs.”

Her
bedroom had lost the ominous feeling. It seemed still, empty almost. The fact that Topaz seemed undisturbed by the room made Jess feel more comfortable. Settled down with the TV remote in hand and the kitten on the bed beside her Jess snuggled under the quilt, feeling reassured by the hum of her fathers voice in the kitchen below.

Tom
carried his white board from the study to the kitchen, where he set up a tripod stand. He placed the pictures of the four missing women on to it, under each picture he wrote the date of their disappearance and the circumstances.

Lee
put on the coffee pot and they waited on Danny. “Have you found any concrete evidence that they are connected yet?” Lee asked.

“Not
so much concrete. But it was you that brought them to me Lee.”

“I
know, but, do you think they are connected?” The front door bell rang and Tom led Danny through to the kitchen. Lee plied him with coffee and cakes and Tom flicked through his files organizing them.

“You’ve
been busy, Tom.”

“I
want you to have a look at what I’ve found and then maybe we could bounce ideas off each other.”

“That
sounds good.” Danny said.

Lee
settled in a chair beside Danny to allow the best view of the board and Tom began.

“You
shouldn’t be here, Lee,” Danny said half mocking.

“Tom
said he would deputise me.”

Tom
looked at Danny. “Lee was the one who brought the other women to my attention, so she should probably be here in case we have any questions for her. Now, you asked me to look into Angela Harrison, Lee checked her out for me on line and in the process she stumbled onto a missing persons site where she found some other cases that she felt merited some investigation. Now all these cases are inactive. They suspected at the time that something was not quite right, but the absence of any evidence rendered the cases cold. Now back in the 1960s and 1970s, missing persons were, as you probably know, Danny, not taken as seriously as they are today. After Tobin and West, we learned that a missing person could lead to something far more sinister. Now, in this case, I think the absence of evidence may be evidence in its self.”

“How’d
you mean?”

“For
one thing, they are all too clean. We’ve got, Susanna Wheeling, in August 1968. Angela Harrison in August 1978. Jenny Phillips in August 1979. and Jill Paterson in August 1984. I spoke with witnesses of the Susanna Wheeling disappearance; they said she was excited about a job offer someone had made her in the hotel she worked. Jenny Phillips was also excited about a job offer someone had made her on the train on the way up from London. She was working in the refreshment carriage. Nevertheless, no one remembers whom she spoke with, it was during the school holidays and the train was busy. I cannot get hold of any family yet for Jill Paterson, but I am willing to bet she was given a job offer too. The last day that the girls were seen was the day they disappeared; there was never another sighting of any of them. There was no activity on the bank accounts or credit cards. And the ones that had cars left them behind. My gut tells me that these girls all met the same man.”