Tamara did up her coat almost to the top, wishing she’d brought something thicker with her forgetting she hadn’t been home in ten days. The heaters in the car were set to cool and she reached over shutting the vents facing her. Janssen didn’t appear bothered, concentrating on the road ahead. Didn’t he feel the cold? The head of a storm front rolled in overnight on a strong easterly carrying cold air across the North Sea from Scandinavia. The marshlands were shrouded in thick fog and the sky overcast when she got up this morning and even now, as both slowly burned away, the surrounding area took on an entirely different persona to the one she’d experienced thus far. The vitality of early spring was muted by an overbearing greyness, a brooding presence dominating the landscape.

  Her thoughts drifted to Richard. Finally, they’d managed to speak the night before but it was a stilted conversation, one where he failed to ask her when she’d be coming home. He was still upset. Arguably more so than she initially realised. He seemed cold towards her on the phone. It would pass.

  Pulling into the school grounds, they passed a number of pupils lining the approach road. There must be a break in classes. Janssen found one of the few remaining spaces and parked the car. The sun was threatening to break the canopy overhead now, the warmth on her skin was pleasant as she got out. Mounting the steps to the reception, she caught a glimpse of a familiar face. It was Maddie, Holly’s sister. She was standing off to their left with a couple of friends. She thought to acknowledge the girl, maybe enquire as to her wellbeing, but she appeared in conversation and possibly wouldn’t want to draw attention to herself with the police in front of her peers, so she decided to leave it.

  Tamara found Mark McCall’s tutor to be an interesting man. Somewhat easily distracted and fidgety, he appeared relieved once they were satisfied the handwriting couldn’t be Mark’s. Even to the untrained eye it was clear whoever had penned the threats was someone other than him. His letters were far too neat and ordered. She wasn’t perturbed by the knowledge. It had been expected. “How is Mark? What’s he been like since he found Holly?” The tutor appeared as if he was looking directly through her. For a moment she wondered if he’d heard the question.

  “We’ve hardly seen him. I think he attended for the first time yesterday. Very quiet, preoccupied. Unsurprising, seeing as he was so sweet on the girl.”

  “You could see that?”

  “You’d have to be blind not to.”

  “And today?” Janssen asked.

  “He turned up for morning registration but never made it to his first class. I’ve no idea where he is.”

  They signed out in the visitors’ book located in reception. The scene outside was in stark contrast to when they arrived only a short time ago. The fog had dissipated, possibly receding back towards the coast with them being further inland. The sky was brightening but the air still felt damp as they crossed to the car. Janssen stopped to answer his ringing phone, mouthing to her that it was Eric, probably calling from his visit to the surgery. In the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a figure peering around the corner of the admin block they’d just left. It was Maddie Bettany. The playground and surrounding paths were deserted. Classes must have restarted.

  Leaving Janssen behind, she casually strode over towards the girl who was nervously glancing at the main entrance. “Skipping class?” Speaking barely above a whisper, keeping her tone non-judgemental. The last thing she wanted was to scare the girl away with the threat of discovery. Maddie retreated around the corner into a group of mature trees, shielding them from any of the windows of the nearby classrooms.

  “I know I shouldn’t but…”

  “What is it, Maddie?” She felt the need to reach out and place a reassuring hand on the girl’s arm. The girl seemed rattled, on edge. Hardly a shock under the circumstances. To find her in school so soon was surprising. “I’m sure no one will give you a hard time if you felt you needed a break from class—”

  “No! You don’t understand, it’s not like that. I insisted on coming back to school. Anything to get away from the house.”

  “It must be difficult for all of you.” The urge to give the schoolgirl a tight hug was fought back by the need for professional distance. There was a bench nearby, set beneath a willow tree and she led them there encouraging Maddie to sit down. The girl looked lost, sitting with her legs crossed at the ankles and her hands cupped in one another across her lap.

  “It’s been totally mental since… well, since Holly…” The words tailed off. She couldn’t bear to utter them. “Mum and Dad argue all the time. I think they blame each other… or me.”

  “How can they blame you?” The thought was preposterous.

  “Maybe not blame exactly… but Dad would rather it was me than her.” The words were bitter, tears welled in her eyes as she spoke. Tamara ignored her training as instinct took over. She put an arm around Maddie and the girl sank into her.

  “Don’t ever think that, Maddie. Whatever your parents say, they are hurting too and… will lash out. It’s irrational but very human.” Warm tears fell onto the back of her free hand as she stroked the child’s cheek.

  “Dad’s lost it now,” Maddie continued, sitting up and wiping her eyes, sniffing loudly through a weak smile. Taking out a tissue, Tamara passed it to her. Maddie took it gratefully. “He always used to be bad, what with wanting to know where we were, who we were seeing and stuff but now… he’s on a whole new level of OCD.”

  “He’s lost a daughter,” Tamara said. It was obvious but maybe it was difficult to see the effect grief was having on her father. “Who knows how that can make a parent feel?”

  “Do you have kids?” She shook her head. How would she feel if and when she did have a family? How much effort would she put into protecting them from the horrors she came across on a daily basis? These were scenarios playing over in her mind every time Richard, or his family, started going on about it. As a child she was granted almost unrestricted freedom to venture wherever she chose, disappearing for the entire day with her siblings and her parents barely noticed. They certainly didn’t come looking. If they were late home it would be another story, albeit one where they were in trouble rather than the consideration of something bad having happened. Were times different then? No, that was nonsense. Statistically, children were in no greater danger now than they were in her own youth. Attitudes had changed, that was all. Perceptions maybe. How should a parent behave these days? “I wanted to come back to school to have a break. Like, at least here I can talk to my friends and stuff.”

  “How are you finding it… them?”

  Maddie shrugged. “It’s okay. Everyone’s being weird… exceptionally nice, especially the teachers but my friends are normal. Well… almost.” The schoolgirl fell silent, her expression looked pained as if she was dwelling on something. She waited for her to speak, giving her all the time she needed. “I can’t help but think if I had been with her… then none of this would have happened.”

  “You can’t think that way, Maddie. Holly was supposed to be in Norwich seeing her tutor and preparing for a recital the following day. There was no way you could have been with her.” Maddie looked at her, straight into her eye and there was something there, a revelation she wanted to speak of. “What is it, Maddie?”

  “I knew… I knew she wasn’t going to Norwich on the Friday night. I got her in trouble.” Tears fell. “It’s my fault.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “I was supposed to be at a friend’s house. We… we went to the beach party. All the fifth and sixth form were talking about it and we wanted to go, so we told our parents we would be at the other’s house and went along.”

  “Ahh… I see.” They wouldn’t be the first teenagers to play that trick. She’d done similar. “How does any of this come back to you?”

  “Dad found us there,” she said, looking at her feet. “He dragged me away… in front of everyone. It was so embarrassing.”

  “What about Holly?” It was odd that the Bettanys failed to mention this. They were supposed to be attending social functions that night, not dragging a wayward daughter away from a beach party. Colin was all about image and status, though. Perhaps he didn’t want it becoming common knowledge.

  “I don’t know. I didn’t really see much of her. She was off with Mark. I argued with Dad.”

  “What about?”

  “He was ranting about me being there. It wasn’t fitting… stuff like that. He’s old-school, my dad. I didn’t think it fair I should be pulled away when Holly got to stay out.”

  “Did she? Get to stay, I mean?”

  “Dad put me in the car and then called her on the phone. She didn’t answer. Probably saw him kicking off and did a runner. Usually she would stand up for me. I don’t blame her this time. He was really angry. He wanted to go and find her. We sat there in the car for at least twenty minutes while he stared at his phone before we went home.”

  “Maddie, how did he know where to find you?” she asked, puzzled. And why would he lie… not lie, that was too suggestive. He certainly wasn’t open and truthful about his movements.

  “I don’t know. We didn’t tell anyone where we were going.” Maddie sounded unsure. “Maybe he called Abbie’s mum or the other way around.”

  “Have you got your phone on you?” Maddie nodded, reaching into the pocket of her blazer. “May I?” she asked, holding out her hand. Maddie unlocked the handset with her fingerprint and passed it over. It was a smartphone, fairly new judging by the slim design. Flipping through the screens at the standard icons one would expect alongside a collection of social media apps, she recognised most but there were some unfamiliar to her, probably popular with teenagers alone. There was nothing unusual. Ideally, she wanted to have a more tech-savvy person take a look. Maybe Janssen would know, more likely Eric. However, it would likely be noticed by Colin and judging by his recent reactions he would probably kick up a fuss. Handing the mobile back, she smiled. “Thanks. I don’t suppose Holly’s phone turned up at home, has it? We still haven’t located it.”

  “No, sorry. Not that I know of. She would have had it with her. She never went anywhere without it.” A bell sounded inside the school buildings and Maddie looked over her shoulder. “I should get back. I have maths next and Mr Fothergill is less forgiving than most.”

  “I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” She wanted to reassure the girl, tell her that everything would be okay. “I could come with you if you like?” Maddie shook her head, although with an appreciative smile at the gesture. “Call me if you want to speak again.” The girl turned and headed up the path and through the nearest door, disappearing from view as the voices of children freshly released from class, carried to her.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Mark was up well ahead of usual. His father stirred on the sofa as he ransacked the kitchen looking for a clean bowl in which to make breakfast. Giving up, he found one from the previous day and gave it a cursory rinse under the tap. There was no hot water again, the third time this week. The baffles on the wood burner had gone, only this time his faith in his father’s ability to fix them was waning. A man quite adept at repairing almost anything, even his skills would be far stretched on this occasion. Wiping the inside of the bowl with the sleeve of his shirt, he filled it with cereal and milk. Picking up a spoon, he crossed to where his father lay and put the bowl on the occasional table next to the sofa.

  Placing a hand on his shoulder, he gently rocked his father awake. “Dad. There’s some breakfast for you.” Bleary-eyed and with a deep frown, his father sat up. He’d secured some work on a neighbouring farm, just manual labouring. Old man Carlisle needed a barn cleared to make way for some new machinery he had arriving and couldn’t spare anyone else to do it. It was menial but it paid cash and they needed the money. There was only so long they could go on boxes of cereal and cold showers. The least he could do was to help his father keep the little work he managed to secure. Callum McCall coughed, then stretched his arms in the air and yawned. The man’s pores oozed the distinct aroma of alcohol. An empty bottle of cheap scotch or vodka lay on the floor alongside the sofa. He wondered how his father would get by without him. Maybe Sadie would step up. She hadn’t come home again last night and he couldn’t blame her. Dad may well have to get by on his own soon.

  Skipping his own breakfast, he made a show of picking up his schoolbag and setting off. Having been up for most of the night, his appetite had deserted him. Agonising for several days over what he should do, he’d finally reached a decision the previous night. It was the right thing to do. Making the phone call, however, was hard. Not slipping out in the dead of night so as not to wake his father, that was easy. The man was hammered as usual. No, it was the uncertainty. He knew what he was looking to achieve but there was a lot at stake and if he’d pitched it wrong then he was in trouble. His father didn’t speak as he left the home.

  At this rate, he would be early for school and not wanting to draw attention to himself, he slowed his pace. Upon reaching the gates he slipped into the throng of arrivals. The sixth-formers entered through a different door to the uniformed kids and he kept his distance from the others. Not that many of them spoke to him much of the time anyway, now they positively avoided him. He knew what they were thinking and undoubtedly saying, and it was never going to stop. Even if an arrest was made and successfully prosecuted there would be those who still didn’t believe. They never would. Unless it was him, a McCall. Well, if they wanted a genuine reason to fear him, then they would get one soon enough.

  Morning registration passed without incident. Not a word was said regarding his lack of attendance the previous day when he came in, the first since Holly’s murder. A couple of the teachers even asked how he was. Today was normal. Much like any other. The notices were read out, something about grief counselling aimed in his general direction, or at least he thought so, but he wasn’t really listening. The clock was ticking by slowly. When the bell went to indicate morning classes, the scrape of chair legs across the floor and instant break-out of multiple conversations masked evidence of his growing anticipation and anxiety. He felt himself flush, sweating profusely. No one seemed to notice.

  Joining the massed ranks queueing to get out of the classroom, he lingered at the rear. Once out into the corridor he ambled to the stairwell, the last person to enter. As students peeled away towards their various classes, he continued on to the ground floor, passing out of the fire exit into the overcast morning. It was still cold as it had been on the walk in, but the sun was threatening to break through. Glancing around, no one was in sight. He’d left via the eastern exit, the one unfavoured by anyone because there was no route out of the school without walking around the building. Unless you were going over the fence as he was. Confident he was unseen, he tossed his bag over and then followed. It wasn’t particularly challenging, being barely above waist height and he made it with ease.

  The walk home usually took half an hour but he could cut that by a third if he upped his pace. His father should be away to work by now and Sadie would reappear when she ran out of money or her latest turfed her out, whichever came first. His route took him along one of the main roads and a few cars passed by him but no one paid him any attention. Once back home, he approached with caution just on the off chance his father decided to go back to sleep rather than put in a shift. Everything was quiet when he opened the door, peering in and listening for signs of movement. There were none.

  The door swung closed behind him, banging against the jamb. The latch didn’t take as the frame was warped and ill fitting. They never locked it anyway. What was the point? They had nothing worth stealing. Heading straight to his father’s bedroom, not that he slept there much preferring the sofa or bunking in with Sadie, he crossed over to the wardrobe. Moving aside a stack of magazines and an old carrier bag containing some random cables, he reached to the rear and found what he was looking for, an old canvas duffle bag. The dust disturbed by him taking it down brought tears to his eyes. From the weight of the bag, he knew what he was looking for was still there.

  The bag was two-foot-long, with a double handle and a shoulder strap. Placing it down at the foot of the bed and unzipping it, he eyed the contents. Looking over his shoulder, he feared discovery as if everyone knew what he was planning. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself. Returning to the wardrobe, he rooted around towards the back and found a small cardboard box. It rattled as he pulled it to the front. Opening it, he tipped the contents into the canvas bag and fastened the zip once more, slipping the strap over his shoulder.

  Stepping out of his father’s room, he went through to his own. Dropping on to all fours, he extended his arm under the bed and blindly rummaged around for a few moments until he felt his fingers brush against the cold glass of the screen. Teasing it into reach, he pulled the mobile phone out, holding it in his palm. Pressing the power button, he waited for it to power up which took a matter of seconds. A musical tune sounded as the company logo flashed up soon to be replaced by the lock screen and he typed in the four-digit pin. There was no going back. Not now.

  Leaving the house as quickly as he could, a strange sensation passed over him. It wasn’t nerves. He didn’t suffer from that type of thing. Exam stress, peer pressure… people talked about that stuff all the time but it never bothered him. This was an alien feeling though, one he couldn’t interpret. Maybe this was what other people felt, his brothers. One going into battle, the other heading to prison. Was it anticipation, excitement… fear? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it and tried to push the feeling aside. However, the intensity of the sensation only grew with each step he took through the woods.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Returning to the station, Tom Janssen found an excited detective constable waiting for them in ops. The handwriting examples collected for comparison would be sent away for confirmation but even a cursory inspection proved conclusive. Neither of the samples collected from the Bettanys came close and Mark McCall’s were a definite bust. Despite this, Eric was bouncing as he entered with Tamara only a step behind.

 

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