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  I’ve actually come up, but I don’t see the need to correct him. ‘Happy to help in any way I can. What’s going on? What was so urgent?’

  Dainton looks at Jack to take over and he nods, leading me towards the back of the room, whilst Dainton restarts his whispered conversation with the other man in the hard hat. This second man is wearing a mustard and charcoal chequered shirt and a thick gilet and, given the girth of his gut, I would assume is the foreman of the site. They are back pointing at the map again.

  I can see from the way Jack looks at Dainton that there is great respect there.

  ‘He seems nice,’ I say with a shrug.

  ‘We’re lucky to have him leading this investigation, that’s for sure,’ Jack whispers, as if trying to spare Dainton’s blushes. ‘And he’s going places. Plays golf with former Met Police Commissioner Sir Anthony Tomlinson as well.’

  ‘What’s all this about, Jack?’ I ask quietly, when we’re as far from the other two as we can be. ‘I haven’t heard from you in months, and then out of the blue you phone and ask me to come back here.’

  He lowers his eyes. ‘I’m sorry about that. Things have been manic, what with work and Chrissie being in hospital; I just feel like I’ve been chasing my tail. I’ve meant to call and see how you are, but… I’m sorry.’

  Chrissie is Jack’s ex, and mum to their eight-year-old daughter Mila, of whom they share custody. Born out of wedlock to two teenagers who thought nothing could separate them, Mila lives with Jack two days each week, and with her mum and stepfather the rest of the time. Given the number of horror stories I’ve heard about separated couples, Jack and Chrissie are on great terms.

  ‘Wait, what? What happened to Chrissie?’ I ask, picking up on the only point that mattered in his statement.

  ‘She was rushed to hospital just before Christmas and gave birth three months premature. The poor tyke has been in the prenatal unit ever since. It’s been tough on them, and on Mila, not knowing whether her new little brother will pull through or not. Sorry, I guess this is all news to you. It’s been a crazy few months. I’ve been trying to help out with Mila as much as I can so that they’re able to spend as much time at the hospital as they need.’

  Overwhelming guilt swamps my mind; to think I was assuming Jack’s radio silence had something to do with his unrequited (well, almost) feelings for me.

  ‘Oh, Jack, I’m so sorry, I had no idea you had all that going on. You should have called; I’d have been happy to help in any way I could.’

  ‘Thanks, but we’re coping, just about. But when I’m not with Mila, I’m at the office in Vauxhall. And then all this blows up at the worst possible time.’

  My mind snaps back to the small hut in the middle of a construction site. ‘Well, what is all this? What was so urgent you needed me here now?’

  He glances over his shoulder at Dainton before returning to me and keeping his voice low. ‘As you may have noticed, the site is being redeveloped, but all that work has had to stop as of this morning. While they were digging to lay new foundations, a suitcase was discovered beneath the ground containing human remains. They’ve been taken away for examination and the dig site is being surveyed by a team of forensic specialists, though judging by the style and age of the case, it’s been down there for a number of years.’

  At least that puts Freddie in the clear, but what does that mean for the investigation into the nefarious activities undertaken at these studios?

  ‘I was hoping you might share all your notes from your original interviews with Freddie Mitchell? We’re trying to piece together timelines, and I also want to speak to Freddie directly to see if he recalls anything about his time here that might help us identify other individuals in addition to the people who brought him here from the boys’ home.’

  ‘I’ll have to check that Freddie is happy for me to hand the notes over, but assuming that he is, sure I’m happy to send over everything I’ve got, so long as they’re returned to me at some point.’

  ‘That’s great, Emma. Thank you. Do you happen to know when Freddie is due to be released from HMP Winchester? I don’t want to go to the hassle of speaking to the visitation office, only to miss him.’

  ‘He was released this morning. That’s where I was when you phoned.’

  ‘He’s out now?’ He glances out of the portacabin window. ‘He’s not with you now, is he?’

  I shake my head. ‘I left him on a train back to Weymouth. He should be there in the next hour or so.’

  Jack looks at his watch. ‘Perfect! Maybe I can see him today and give you a lift home in the process. Does that work for you?’

  He’s going at a hundred miles an hour and I’m struggling to keep up. ‘Yeah, I guess, but why did you need me here to say all this? You could have asked me over the phone for my notes; what was so important I come here?’

  Jack closes his eyes, and takes a moment to compose himself. ‘The human remains that were found… The pathologist believes they belong to a female aged between thirteen and fifteen, based on bone development… There’s a chance they belong to your sister.’

  Chapter Four

  Then

  Piddlehinton, Dorset

  The car’s brakes squeaked as the vehicle careered along the muddy track. It had been several minutes since they’d left the road, and although Joanna had tried to keep an eye on the route they’d followed since passing her school, she’d soon become disorientated. If she ever had to show anyone back to where she’d been taken to, or even tried to get back home alone, she would easily get lost. She just wished such an opportunity would present itself.

  The driver hadn’t spoken a word since lying about promising to turn at the roundabout and she was terrified about asking him again. He’d continued to watch her silently from the rear-view mirror. Although he hadn’t spoken since, there was a sinister gleam in his eyes that held her tongue. She would argue it was fear that had kept her from challenging him, but it was more than that. She could have demanded to know where he was taking her, why he had lied, and what he wanted, but none of those questions had sprung to mind. Instead, she’d just kept thinking over and over how much trouble she’d be in with her parents when they found out she’d been stupid enough to get into a car with a stranger.

  Yet he’d been so convincing, hadn’t he? She hadn’t questioned whether he was who he’d claimed to be, or whether he would do as he’d said he would. He’d been kind to her in the shop, not some monster with ill intentions. He was a normal guy. No, he was more than that: he was someone she’d thought she recognised, and she’d had no reason to doubt he was Kim’s dad. In fact, for all her imagination was now telling her about who this man might really be, there was no reason to think he wasn’t Kim’s dad.

  The car pulled to a halt, and the man killed the engine, keeping both hands on the steering wheel and his eyes off the mirror. She watched him via the rear-view mirror. He bowed his head lower so that she could no longer see his eyes. He looked sad. Was he now having regrets about not taking her home? Had her compliance and refusal to scream and shout shown him how wrong he was?

  With the engine off, and the wipers static, the falling rain was now obscuring the view through the windscreen. She could just about make out several white caravans ahead, standing on the brown, grassless mud.

  ‘Where are we?’ she tried to ask, the words barely escaping her mouth as his eyes shot to the mirror at the sound of her voice.

  He raised his head further, his reflection smiling. ‘You don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not going to hurt you.’

  If the statement was supposed to put her at ease, it had failed. Her heart continued to thunder in her chest.

  ‘I want to go home,’ she whimpered. ‘My parents will be worried about me.’

  ‘No, they won’t,’ he said so calmly it frightened her. ‘I’ve sent them a message; they know you’re with me.’

  She hadn’t seen him send any messages on his phone since she’d climbed into the car, so he
had to be lying to her. Her eyes filled instantly.

  ‘Please,’ she tried again, ‘I just want to go home.’

  She’d never wanted to be back home more in her life. Even though her parents could be embarrassing and her sister could be so annoying, at least she felt safe with them. She didn’t like the way he was watching her, revelling in her sadness.

  ‘I won’t tell anyone.’

  Her eyes darted back to his in the mirror. In those four words she’d implied that his behaviour was anything but normal, and she saw his jaw tighten at the silent accusation.

  ‘All in due time,’ he replied, his voice softer than she’d expected. ‘I remembered I was supposed to pick something up from a friend of mine. It’ll only take a few minutes and then I’ll take you home. Okay?’

  Had she got it wrong? Had he actually messaged her parents to let them know she was safe, and as soon as he’d collected whatever it was they’d stopped for, they’d be on their way again? As much as she wanted to believe he was telling the truth, her mind refused to take him at his word.

  ‘How long will it take?’ she checked.

  He looked at his watch.

  ‘My friend lives in one of those caravans. Can you see? He said he’ll be home in a minute and then he’ll give me what I came for. It’s a present for my daughter Mel.’

  Joanna knew Kim was an only child. Her eyes narrowed.

  ‘I thought you said you were Kim’s dad?’

  He clamped his eyes shut in frustration. ‘I did say Kim, didn’t I? Shit, then I guess the game is up.’

  Her throat burned as her nausea grew. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘I really am a friend of your dad’s,’ he said, looking back at her. ‘Listen, we’ll go in to my friend’s caravan, and then I’ll explain everything to you. Okay? You really don’t need to be scared of me. I’m not going to hurt you, Joanna.’

  She hadn’t even considered the possibility that he might hurt her until that moment, and suddenly she could think of nothing else.

  ‘I just want to go home,’ she sobbed. ‘Please? I promise I won’t tell anyone that you lied to me. Just take me home now and nobody will ever know.’

  The rain seemed to have stopped, and that was his cue to open his door and poke his hand out. ‘Ah, look, it’s dried up now. I can’t leave you in the car – there are some dangerous people out there, you know? – so come with me to the caravan, I’ll get you something to eat and drink, and then I’ll tell you what’s going on. Okay? You don’t need to look so worried; there is a perfectly reasonable explanation.’

  Tears spilled against her cheeks, as she shook her head. ‘Take me home. Please? I won’t tell anybody. I want to speak to my mum and dad.’

  He didn’t respond, pushing his door open further, slamming it shut once he was out, and then disappearing behind the car. She tried to swivel round to look out of the back window, but before she had the chance, he’d pulled open her door and was leaning over, fumbling for her seat belt latch.

  ‘No,’ she screamed, sensing she would be safer in the car than in his care.

  But he was too strong for her and simply batted her hands away, lifting her from the seat with one arm and dragging her out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind them. Her Twirl and Fanta had fallen to the floor of the car when he pulled her out, but he’d made no effort to go back and collect them. She kicked and clawed as best she could but it did nothing to slow his stride. They soon made it to the steps leading up to the first of the white caravans. He unlocked the door and pushed her inside. Before she could even consider her next move, his finger was in her face, a silent warning.

  ‘My friend lives in the caravan next door. You’ll be safe in here until I’ve collected what I came for, and then I’ll be back. Don’t do anything to annoy me. You won’t like me when I’m angry.’

  It was so dark inside the caravan that she could barely make out what any of the shadows represented. Some kind of shutters covered the limited number of windows inside. It suddenly felt like Halloween, with nothing but terror lurking in the darkness.

  ‘There are some colouring books on the table over there,’ he continued, pointing to the far side of the interior. ‘Why don’t you colour a nice picture for your mum and dad, and I’m sure by the time you’ve finished, I’ll be back.’

  She felt his hand on her back, pushing her further inside, and then the door was slammed shut and she heard the key the other side locking it tight. She tried the light switch on the wall to her left, but no amount of flicking brightened the gloom.

  He hadn’t shouted or threatened her, yet she’d never felt so afraid to be in the presence of the man in the grey suit.

  Her mum would be pacing the house frantically by now. Joanna could no longer see the face of her watch but it had to be an hour since she’d set off for the shop, and she’d never been out alone for this long before. They had to know she was missing by now. They were sure to ground her for several weeks after this incident whether Kim’s dad had messaged or not.

  He isn’t Kim’s dad, she had to remind himself. And if that was true, then he probably wasn’t a friend of her parents either. And if that was also true, what else had he lied to her about?

  Holding out her hands to check for obstacles, she made her way to the cushioned bench and table, finding the colouring books he’d referred to along with a woollen pencil case. Sliding onto the cushion, she unzipped the pencil case and examined the collection of blunt and broken pencils and crayons inside. They reminded her of the motley collection of stationery in the dentist’s reception room. Opening the top colouring book, she found that the first ten or so pages had already been scribbled over; whoever had been responsible for these colourings didn’t appreciate the benefit of staying inside the lines.

  She found an uncoloured picture but it was of a boring flower and didn’t appeal, so she continued to flick the pages until she came to one that stopped her in her tracks and made her blood freeze. The image of the bunny rabbit on its own was harmless enough, but the three letters scrawled over the top in thick red crayon were clearly a warning:

  RUN

  Pushing the colouring book away, she slid off the cushion and hurried back towards the door. Although she’d heard it lock, there had to be some way to get it open from inside. The door handle didn’t budge so she moved into the small kitchen area, opening and closing cupboards but finding nothing but dust and dead bugs inside.

  The panic started to rise in her throat again; she had to get out, but she had no idea how to. What would her dad do? Clearly, he wouldn’t allow himself to get into such a tight spot, but if he were trapped, what would he do?

  She thought back to the time last year when they’d returned from a weekend away and found their front door wouldn’t open. It had been bolted from inside, her father had determined, which suggested someone had broken in. He didn’t let it faze him, and had used a charge and his shoulder to break through the door, finding valuables smuggled away inside a stolen pillowcase.

  She wasn’t as tall nor as strong as him, but she had to try.

  Running as fast as she could, she slammed her body into the door, and although the whole caravan shook, the door remained firmly locked. She tried it again, but all she managed was to bruise her arm.

  Slumping to the floor, she pressed her back into the door, cursing herself for being stupid enough to climb into the man’s car; stupid enough to believe his act of generosity in the shop was anything but sincere; stupid enough to think she’d get away with sneaking to a shop and indulging herself.

  She buried her head in her hands and wept silently.

  And then she heard voices beyond the door. It was the man in grey and at least one other, making no attempt to cover their words.

  ‘We’ll lay low tonight and make a move at dawn,’ the man in grey said.

  ‘And what if she causes trouble in the meantime?’ the second voice asked.

  The man laughed. ‘If she gives us any trouble, we’ll kill
her, and leave the body where nobody will ever find it. It wouldn’t be the first time, and I’m certain it won’t be the last.’

  Chapter Five

  Now

  Newbury, Berkshire

  ‘My sister?’ I clarify, my brain unable to comprehend. ‘You think the bones are Anna’s? No. No way. They can’t be.’

  We’ve stepped out of the hut for fresh air, but my cheeks are flushed and my body is telling me I could throw up or pass out at any minute.

  Jack fixes me with a pained stare, forcing eye contact. ‘We don’t know for sure, but given the victim’s age, the fact we know your sister was probably here when she was that old, and given the age of the suitcase the remains were discovered in… I’m not saying it’s definitely her, but there is a chance. That’s why I thought I should tell you in person.’

  I stumble backwards as my knees threaten to give way. For so many years I’ve refused to acknowledge the likelihood that Anna is dead. She’s my big sister, and I won’t accept it until I know for sure. I’ve felt in my heart that she has to still be out there somewhere. Hearing Jack daring to even mention the possibility that I’ve been wrong for so long is enough to make my blood boil.

  ‘No, Jack,’ I repeat. ‘You’re wrong. It’s not her; not my Anna.’

  The poor guy doesn’t know which way to look. ‘Oh, well, no, of course, I’m sure you’re right, but in any event, I wanted you to know what we’d found. God knows, had Freddie not torched the place last year, this victim might have remained undiscovered for many more years.’

  It’s such a morbid thought. I’m not sure what I believe in terms of God and afterlives, but there’s something quite horrific in thinking of my remains lying unfound for eternity. Can a soul ever be at peace if not laid to rest properly? It’s hard to believe in a merciful God when you’ve seen some of the things I have.