Think of the Children (20 page)

Jessica had another largely sleepless night – but this time it wasn’t due to Caroline or her own insecurities. She felt excited at what the next morning might bring, the butterflies
she had felt as Adam held her still lingering too.

By the time she arrived at the station the next morning, everything was in place. The officers who had been on watch overnight hadn’t reported anything untoward which meant that if Jessica
was right, Lloyd Corless could be back with his mother within hours.

Desperate for a result, Cole said the chief superintendent had agreed to Jessica being able to do things her way, which was something that surprised the pair of them.

With a team of officers within a few hundred metres, Jessica knocked on Sharon Corless’s front door. One of the first things she had checked the previous evening was all the background
information on Adrian’s mother. When no one answered, she banged loudly again. One of the officers who had been watching the property the previous night insisted he had seen the woman inside
and no one had left. Just as Jessica was about to turn around, the door opened a small crack and she could see the mouth and eyes of the woman who had shouted at her the previous day. Before
Jessica could speak, the door was opened a little further.

‘What are you doing here?’ Sharon demanded angrily, her eyes as ferocious as the previous day.

‘I’d like to ask you a few questions about your missing grandson,’ Jessica said as politely as she could.

‘What do you want to know?’

‘Can I come in?’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s cold out here and it would probably be best if we do this inside.’ Jessica kept a level tone as the woman stared at her. Lloyd Corless’s grandmother looked
as if she was weighing up what to do before pulling the door open for Jessica to step through.

Jessica had already run through with both Cole and Reynolds what she was going to say, assuming she was allowed inside. She allowed herself to be led through to a pristinely clean kitchen. Light
spilled through the window, gleaming off the white worktops. There were two stools at a high table and Jessica sat on one, although the other woman didn’t follow, standing with her arms
crossed. Her outfit was marginally better than the curtain-like dress she’d had on the previous day but she was still wearing a shapeless black blouse that looked enormous.

‘What do you want then?’ Sharon asked. Her tone wasn’t angry, more impatient.

‘Just a bit of a chat. I was wondering how you get on with your grandchildren?’

‘Fine.’

‘Adrian is your only child, yes? So Lloyd and Marcus are your only grandchildren?’

Sharon narrowed her eyes, glaring at Jessica, who already knew the answers before asking the questions. ‘That’s right,’ the woman said after a short pause.

‘And how often do you see them?’

‘Maybe once a month? I visit them at my son’s house.’

‘How do you feel about that?’

Sharon was clearly trying to play along with Jessica’s questions while also keeping a temper that seemed close to boiling point. Her voice was beginning to tremble. ‘Why are you
asking?’

‘No particular reason, it’s just a question. Is there a problem?’

‘No, it’s just … what do you expect me to say? Of course I’d like to see them more.’

‘When was the last time you saw Marcus?’

The woman hesitated for a moment, thinking. ‘Three weeks ago at the weekend, we all went shopping for Christmas presents.’

‘What about Lloyd?’

‘At the same time.’

Jessica kept her voice as calm as possible. ‘What type of things do you usually do when you see them? Do you go to Adrian’s house or do you have the children on your own?’

Sharon hesitated. ‘Adrian will usually either bring them here or he’ll take us all somewhere.’

‘You don’t take Marcus and Lloyd anywhere on your own?’

‘Definitely not.’ The woman stared at Jessica, who knew Sharon thought she had given the best answer to suit her cause when, in fact, it was the worst one she could have offered.

‘And you’ve not seen Lloyd since that time you went shopping?’ Jessica asked.

‘No, of course not.’

‘Are you sure?’

Sharon’s anger suddenly boiled over. Jessica had seen the bottom of the woman’s nostrils begin to flare as the conversation had gone on. ‘How dare you,’ she shouted,
taking a step forward. Jessica didn’t flinch, remaining on the kitchen stool as the other woman stood over her. ‘What are you trying to say?’ She stared at Jessica, eyes wide with
fury.

‘Do we
really
have to do this?’

‘Do what? I want you out. Now.’

Jessica didn’t move. ‘Yesterday when I was at your son’s house, you more or less chased me outside. Your car door was wide open because of the shopping but there was something
else in there too.’ Sharon stared back at Jessica. Her body language was defiant but her eyes, full of rage moments before, told a different story. She started to say something but
couldn’t get the words out properly.

‘Why do you need a child’s booster seat in your car, Mrs Corless?’ Jessica asked.

The woman stumbled over her words for a moment but seemed determined to keep an upper hand she didn’t have. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘You said you don’t take the boys out on your own and your son did the driving or brought them to you. If that’s the case, why would you need a booster seat?’

‘I … I have them sometimes.’

‘Really? You told me you didn’t.’

‘Not often, just every now and then.’ The woman was talking quickly, her words blending together.

‘So you only have the boys “every now and then” but you keep a booster seat permanently in your front seat just in case?’

‘Yes, so what?’

‘Where do the boys sit when you have them on their own?’

‘What?’

Jessica knew she was right. ‘When you have them “every now and then”, where do the two boys sit in your car?’

‘I don’t know, in the back. One in the front, I guess.’

‘Who sits in the front?’

Sharon stared hard at Jessica but reached out to put a hand on the worktop. ‘I … Why does this matter?’

Jessica tried to calm the speed of her words. ‘If they both sit in the back, you wouldn’t have a booster seat in the front. If Marcus was in the front, he wouldn’t need one
because he’s old enough and tall enough to sit on his own without one. So why does Lloyd get preference to sit in the front?’

‘Just … because …’

‘So the youngest brother gets to sit in the front every time and there’s never any arguments between them? Because that doesn’t sound like how eleven- and thirteen-year-old
boys might act to me.’

Sharon weighed up Jessica’s words, knowing she didn’t have an answer. She replied in the way Jessica expected her to. ‘Out. I want you to leave. I know my rights, you
can’t be in here without a warrant unless I invite you in. I’m uninviting you. I want you out. Now.’

The woman put a hand on the top of Jessica’s arm and motioned as if to pull her out of the seat. Jessica stood voluntarily but held firm.

‘Are you really sure you want to do this?’ she asked.

Sharon continued to pull on Jessica’s arm but with less force. ‘Do what? Leave now.’

Jessica sighed. ‘It’s not just about the seat. We know you don’t have any other children or grandchildren. We know you don’t have any other properties or anything else in
your name. And we know – I know – you have Lloyd somewhere here. We can either do this the easy way and you tell me where you have him, or I can go outside and tell my colleagues at the
bottom of the road to come along with the warrant we already have. We can do it whichever way you choose but it’s up to you. One way will look a lot worse when it gets to court.’

Sharon stopped tugging on Jessica’s arm. Her head was tilted to the side and she met the sergeant’s eyes. ‘Fine. Have a look for yourself. He’s not here.’

As her son had done days before, she held her arms wide to tell Jessica she had nothing to hide.

For the first time since the previous night, Jessica felt a nervous twinge. She had been in control of the conversation until that point but Sharon’s steady stare suddenly put doubt into
her mind. What if she was wrong? Was there something she had missed? Jessica tried to appear confident as she walked through from the kitchen into the living room with Sharon just behind her. The
atmosphere had certainly changed and she could feel the woman hovering. Jessica didn’t have to do much exploration in the room to know there was no one there, not unless there was a hidden
basement under the carpet. The rest of the ground floor was similarly inauspicious, everything tidily organised and offering nothing of interest. Sharon followed her around but said nothing.

Jessica knew she could ask the team waiting outside to enter at any moment. She wasn’t bluffing when she told the woman they had a warrant. But if she was wrong, it would look terrible for
everyone involved, especially her. Jessica walked steadily up the carpeted stairs studying the photos on the walls above a bookshelf which had been built into the wall. The books were largely
romance novels and even from skimming the spines, Jessica could see they were in alphabetical order.

At the top of the stairs was a door immediately on her left, another in front and two to her right. Sharon was hovering halfway up, watching. Jessica entered to her left but it was a bathroom,
while the door in front led into a library of sorts, with hundreds, if not thousands of books arranged neatly along the walls. She tried to weigh up the dimensions of the house, wondering if there
could be space for an extra room or large cupboard but everything appeared correct.

The first of the doors to her right opened into a bedroom that Jessica thought was likely Sharon’s own. There was a king-size bed neatly made with a clean white duvet on top. Jessica
almost felt embarrassed for doing it but she crouched and looked under the bed but could see nothing. She checked the walk-in wardrobe but, aside from a dubious taste in clothes, there was nothing
untoward. Jessica was beginning to get a sinking feeling in her stomach as she approached the final door. It was wedged open and without going inside, she could see that it was relatively clear. A
single bed was pushed towards a back wall, a portable television was on a chest of drawers opposite. There was a cream-coloured carpet that Jessica felt strangely drawn to because of how bright it
made the room look. The day was clear but cold and sunlight beamed through the window, illuminating the area. Jessica looked from the doorway, peering from one corner to the other, but
couldn’t see anything out of place.

As she turned to look away, defeated, Jessica’s gaze fell upon an object on the floor holding the door open. It was a solid-looking dark weight, the type she’d used at school when
they were learning about measurements. In her mind, Jessica was transported back to being young, holding the weights in her hand and thinking how heavy they were before balancing them on the scales
as her teacher spoke about kilograms and pounds. She had half-turned towards the stairs but stopped to stare at the weight. Something about it didn’t seem quite right. The rest of the house
was completely uncluttered with all the doors closed. For some reason, not only was this door open but there was an item on the floor.

Jessica stepped back towards the room, crouching to pick the weight up.

The door didn’t swing shut.

She could hear Sharon shuffling on the stairs. Jessica remembered a time when they had gone on a school trip to a local castle. One of her teachers had tried to measure how deep the moat was by
tying a similar weight to a string. As the children sat in a circle and watched, the teacher had slowly lowered the object into the moat before offering a quick ‘oops’ and pulling out
the string with no weight attached. Jessica still remembered the embarrassed look on the teacher’s face as she realised the piece of school property was in the process of sinking to the
bottom.

Jessica knelt and cupped the weight in her hand, bobbing it up and down to feel how heavy it was. She glanced around the room before noticing a hatch on the ceiling, a round hook in the centre.
She stood, still holding the weight, and walked over to the bed. The covers were hanging over the side, touching the floor but she pulled them back and reached underneath. As her hands gripped the
cool metal of what was undoubtedly a ladder, Jessica knew she was right.

She pulled it out with a clang and looked up to see Sharon standing in the doorway. Any defiance in her face was gone as the two locked eyes. ‘Why did you do it?’ Jessica asked.

Sharon spoke quietly. ‘I just wanted to see him.’

The change in the atmosphere around the station in the days since Lloyd Corless had been found was remarkable. No one thought Sharon had anything to do with the other
disappearances and the fact Lloyd’s name had been on the list found in the allotment shed seemed to be a coincidence. The senior members were delighted the boy had been found alive and well
– and the subsequent media coverage was very positive. Jessica thought a lot of the internal relief was because they had somehow managed to keep news of the list’s existence
in-house.

From her point of view, Jessica was still frustrated because they had only solved one mystery which it now seemed wasn’t even connected to the wider one they were supposed to be looking
into. Plenty of people around the station were happy to offer her a ‘well done’ and give the proverbial pat on the back but she didn’t share their enthusiasm, instead retreating
to her office.

Meanwhile, everything was being hampered by the weather. At least when it had been wet, they could get on and do things. As the winter freeze had taken hold, the ground where they’d
discovered Toby Whittaker’s clothes was becoming almost impossible to work on. They were no closer to finding the identity of the driver either.

Jessica was sitting at her desk when there was a knock on the door and Izzy entered. Jessica welcomed the constable in, who sat on the corner of DS Cornish’s empty desk.

‘Are you all right?’ Izzy asked.