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Hush Little Baby (DC Beth Chamberlain) Page 5


  The knee juddered faster.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘What happened to her?’

  ‘Again, we’re not completely sure as yet. She’s still being examined.’

  Beth went on to explain the circumstances surrounding the find in as much detail as she was able, mindful of Freeman’s caution. ‘I’m going to have to ask you to keep this confidential, for now,’ she said. ‘We won’t be releasing details to the press until we are positive of her identity.’

  His knee continued to tremor. ‘Obviously you can’t be sure, not until your tests are complete. I mean it could be another child.’

  ‘It could. But the baby wore a bangle like Alicia’s,’ Beth said. ‘And the clothing matches what Alicia was wearing when she disappeared. I’m so sorry.’

  He looked like he was going to be sick.

  ‘Can I ask a question?’ he said.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Was there any sign of… well, you know.’ He tilted his head awkwardly. ‘Was she abused?’

  ‘Again, I can’t tell you. We’re still trying to establish exactly what happened. The child’s remains will be subject to a full examination.’

  His heel hit the floor. The knee stilled. He gulped a breath. ‘Have you spoken to Marie?’

  ‘Yes, I was with her earlier.’

  ‘How’s she doing?’

  ‘She’s shocked, naturally.’

  They were interrupted by the sound of a key turning in a lock and the front door opening. A woman’s voice called out, ‘Only me!’

  Bailey leapt off the chair and met a blonde woman at the front room doorway.

  ‘Hello, darling,’ she said, crouching down and scooping the dog up in her arms.

  Beth recognised her as the woman in the photo with Daniel Owen on the wall. She’d had a fringe cut into her hair since it was taken, but it was definitely her.

  ‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you had a visitor,’ she said to Daniel. The same Liverpudlian twang danced in her words. The woman looked from one to another.

  When nobody spoke, Beth introduced herself.

  ‘This is my sister, Cara,’ Daniel said.

  ‘Do you live here together?’

  ‘No, I live up the road,’ Cara said to Beth, then turned to her brother. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘They’ve found a child. They think it might be Alicia.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The remains of a young child were found on a building site this morning,’ Beth said.

  Cara’s face drained of colour. ‘I saw that on the news. What do you mean, you think it’s her?’

  ‘The body has been there for some time,’ Beth said, mustering every ounce of diplomacy. ‘We need to carry out extensive tests to be sure.’

  ‘Alicia was taken fifteen years ago. There can’t be much left of her now, poor thing.’

  ‘As I say, we need to carry out tests, but early indications are it could well be Alicia,’ Beth said gently. ‘I’m very sorry.’ She turned to Daniel. ‘Would you consent to a DNA sample? It would certainly speed up the identification process.’

  ‘Why do you need a DNA sample, if it’s Alicia?’ Cara asked.

  ‘We need to be sure.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Daniel said. ‘Course.’

  Beth could feel Cara’s eyes on her as she removed the pack from her bag and swabbed his mouth.

  ‘I can’t believe it,’ she said. ‘After all this time. I mean we always hoped, but… What happened to her?’

  ‘We’re not completely sure, as yet,’ Beth said.

  ‘You’re not sure of much.’

  ‘Cara!’ Daniel’s face pained.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Beth said. ‘It’s a shock for everyone. It’s been a long time.’

  Cara huffed. ‘You can say that again. Do you know how many false hopes we’ve been given? The sightings in the early days. People calling up, saying they’ve seen a baby that fits her description. Journalists knocking on our doors.’ She placed the dog down, crossed the room and lowered herself onto the arm of her brother’s chair, sliding her arm protectively around his shoulder. ‘Dan didn’t just lose his daughter when Alicia disappeared, he lost his wife, his marriage, everything. So, when you come round here telling us you think you’ve found our Alicia and don’t know how she died or anything about the body, forgive me for being sceptical. My brother’s been through enough.’

  Daniel put his head in his hands.

  ‘I understand your concerns and can assure you we’ll do everything we can to keep you informed. I’ll be your family liaison officer, here to support you.’ Beth took a card out of her bag. ‘Daniel?’

  He looked up as she passed the card across.

  ‘Does this mean you’re re-opening the old case?’ Cara asked.

  ‘The case has never been closed.’ Beth kept her eyes on Daniel as she spoke. ‘But yes, we will be re-examining the evidence. That’s my direct line. Call me if you need anything.’

  ‘What about reporters?’ Daniel said quietly.

  ‘We will do everything in our power to keep you informed before anything is released to the press. In the meantime, you have my card.’ Beth paused as she stood. ‘I must ask you both to keep this to yourselves for now. As I said, we’ve only released general details about the discovery to the media at this stage. It’s important any information feed or updates come from us.’

  Silence descended on the room. Bailey curled up in front of the fireplace, oblivious to the tension.

  ‘When will you know for definite?’ Daniel said.

  Beth’s gaze flicked to the photos above the fireplace once more. The juxtaposition between the lives of Alicia’s parents struck her. She hadn’t seen any photos of Alicia in the Russells’ home, yet here, the mantel was littered with them. According to their records, Daniel Owen had never remarried, never had any more children. He was living in the past, holding on to the ghost of his daughter.

  ‘As soon as the DNA results come back, I’ll be in touch. It’s likely to be a few days. We’ll get them processed as quickly as we can.’ Beth stepped towards the door. ‘Oh, one more question. I understand you have a brother, Scott?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Cara said.

  ‘Do you have his contact details? If we receive a positive identification, we’ll need to speak with him.’

  Cara’s face puckered. ‘Why do you need to speak with Scott? He was at work when Alicia was taken.’

  ‘We’ll be talking to everyone who saw Alicia in the days up to she died. It’s standard practice. Do you know where we can reach him?’

  ‘No.’

  Beth looked from one to another, unspeaking.

  ‘Our brother moved away to London,’ Cara said. ‘Years ago.’

  ‘You don’t have a forwarding address?’

  ‘We haven’t seen or heard from him since he left, have we, Dan?’

  Daniel shook his head. ‘We’ve no idea where he is.’

  11

  Marie glanced at the bedside clock. It was nearly 6.30 a.m. She shifted onto her back and stared into the darkness. The house was quiet and still, the rise and fall of Vic’s resting breaths beside her, the only sound to be heard.

  It amazed her how he slept so easily. Even after yesterday’s news, upsetting the balance of lives they’d worked so hard to re-build, he’d still fallen into an exhausted slumber as soon as his head hit the pillow. Sleep was his body’s subconscious answer to stress, and she envied him the escape it provided, the respite from the menacing worries that kept her awake during the long hours of darkness.

  Marie rubbed her dry eyes. Her limbs were aching and weary, but her brain still refused to give up, continuing to churn over the information they received yesterday and intersperse it with memories dredged up from the past. What happened to Alicia on that fateful day she disappeared? Who took her? She remembered looking over her shoulder, checking the pram when she entered the store. Peering around the end of the aisle while she shopped. Minutes later,
leaving the supermarket and finding it gone. She’d replayed that moment umpteen times, searching for answers that failed to reveal themselves.

  The detectives weren’t sure, but she knew, deep down, that this was her girl. Aside from the police interest and the location, close to their old home and to where Alicia was taken, there was something else. For the first time in fifteen years her daughter was close, she felt it in every fibre of her body. And the sheer suggestion of her baby – with her spidery eyelashes, stubby nose, fluffy dark hair and flawless skin – buried beneath the soil and rubble of a building site, her remains tossed around by the diggers, made her throat constrict.

  Very soon they’d find out how she died. It wouldn’t be long now.

  Another glance at the clock. A minute had passed. It was too early to start the day. At the same time, she couldn’t bear to lay there any longer, torturing herself with memories.

  She slid out of bed, checked back to ensure Vic’s breaths were still even and pulled her robe around her shoulders. It was darker on the landing. She tiptoed past Zac’s room, past the bathroom and into the spare bedroom at the back of the house.

  Marie closed the door, switched on the lamp beside the bed and crossed to a fitted cupboard in the corner where they stored old toys, Vic’s guitar and music books, and other discarded paraphernalia. A couple of board games rocked on the top shelf as she opened the door. Marie unhooked the stepladder at the side, folded it out and climbed up to reach the top shelf. Counters rattled about inside the boxes as she pulled out the games and lowered them to the floor. She pushed aside a pile of soft toys, lifted out a wide box with no lid and carried it across to the bed. A child’s painting sat astride the top. Photos of Zac at various stages of growth and early birthday cards slipped about below.

  Back at the cupboard, she reached to the rear of the shelf, pawing at another box. A shoebox, smaller than the first one, the lid firmly shut. Dust motes flew off the top and scattered through the air as she lifted it down and carried it across to the bed.

  She removed the lid and immediately faced a photograph of baby Liam dressed in a fluffy white Babygro. Alicia’s twin, so tiny and frail. She ran her finger around the outline of his face. Beneath were handprints and footprints the nurses had taken, along with his hospital wrist band.

  Alicia’s wrist band was also there, clearly marked with her name and date of birth. Beside them their hospital cot cards listed the date, time of birth and weight. At 5lb 2oz, Alicia was almost a pound heavier than her brother.

  Marie inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. Whenever she opened this box, the fresh aroma of a newborn touched her senses. She’d only had the twins as babies. The first booties, the newborn cards, and that familiar baby talcum powder smell was all she had left to remind her of their presence in her life.

  Various photos of Alicia were scattered in the bottom of the box: in her Moses basket, having her first bath, sleeping in her car seat. She’d always settled better in the car seat than the pram. Daniel rocking her in his arms, a goofy smile on his face. A lock of wispy hair slipped out from behind a picture. It belonged to Liam. She leafed through, desperately looking for another. But there were only more photos.

  Tears spilled down her cheeks. The nurses at the hospital had been generous, capturing memories of Liam, giving her plenty of keepsakes because they only had a short time together before he was taken away. She’d always planned to cut a piece of Alicia’s hair when it grew, when she lost her baby tufts. They had all the time in the world. Or so they thought.

  Marie placed a hand over her mouth to muffle the sob that escaped. Oh, how she wished she’d cut Alicia’s hair and taken her handprints while she’d had the opportunity.

  Her eyes combed Zac’s box. When he came along, she’d been frightened. Frightened that after what she’d been through, losing two babies in such extraordinary circumstances, she wouldn’t be able to cope. Terrified they wouldn’t bond. Thankfully, she’d felt an affinity with him straight away. The early weeks weren’t easy, he struggled to feed, but they soon found their path and fell into a routine.

  With Alicia, things were never easy. Marie had tried to make it better. Oh, how she’d tried. Something was always missing.

  She studied the photos of her baby girl, now scattered across the bed. Perhaps if she’d tried harder, Alicia would still be with them now.

  What would you have been like? Marie wondered. A lump formed in her throat. Alicia would have been a teenager now, studying for her GCSEs, a young woman preparing to make her own way in the world. Would you have looked like me, or your father?

  She gathered up the photos, shoving them back in the box, fresh tears flooding her eyes. She was about to place the lid on when something caught her eye at the side. She reached down and curled her fingers around the small condolence card with a teddy bear on the front. How did that get in there? The condolence cards for Liam caused her so much distress that Daniel had thrown them away soon after his funeral. ‘We don’t need any more reminders,’ he’d said. Yet this one lingered.

  Marie opened the card and instantly a spasm of terror shot through her. Of all the cards… She tore it in half and in half again, continuing to rip it until tiny pieces of cardboard began falling through her fingers and floating onto the duvet. Then she scooped them up, checking she’d retrieved every last piece and carried them downstairs.

  The kitchen bin was half full. She pushed aside a banana skin and a crisp packet and tucked the torn pieces underneath. Out of sight, out of mind.

  12

  Beth edged forwards in the traffic and braked. The roads were more congested than usual on her route into work that Wednesday. Nick had arrived home late last night. She’d felt the bedclothes displace as he climbed in, heard his breaths slow as he immediately slipped into a slumber. He’d left before her that morning, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on her cheek as the alarm sounded. In many ways it was understandable – the early days of a case were demanding, especially at senior level, and this was his first shot at inspector rank. He’d want to make an impression.

  The exchange in the office yesterday still niggled her. They’d recently got back together. Work was such a fundamental part of their lives and the idea of him considering a change of job and making applications elsewhere without mentioning it felt odd. Although it was only one application and they were on a break at the time…

  The radio DJ’s smooth voice filled the car, talking about a local Christmas Fayre at the weekend. Beth grabbed her coffee out of the holder, took a sip and was reminded of the photos of Alicia on display at Daniel Owen’s house yesterday evening. Alicia had been missing for fifteen years, yet Daniel kept the photographs of her out, a shrine to his lost daughter.

  The ringtone of her mobile distracted her.

  Nick’s voice filled the car. ‘Morning. Where are you?’

  Beth frowned. It was still only 7.30 a.m. She wasn’t late. ‘I’m on my way in. Why? Has something happened?’

  ‘Northants News have reported a potential connection with the child’s body and the Russells. It’s all over their website this morning.’

  ‘What? How?’ The car in front of her inched forwards.

  ‘Apparently, they interviewed the builder who reported the body. Just in time for a front-page piece on their weekly paper copy. Freeman’s going ballistic.’

  ‘What does the article say?’

  ‘It mentions where the remains were found, talks about the hand and arm of a young child, and refers to the bangle. Freeman’s going to ring you shortly. He wants you to head straight over to see Marie Russell and let her know.’

  Beth adjusted her earpiece. ‘Okay, what about the father?’

  ‘He’s already at work, his phone is on voicemail. We’ve left him a message to call us, but given how we struggled to find him, it’s less likely the reporters will descend on him straight away.’ The line crackled. She heard a voice in the background. ‘Sorry, I have to go. I’ll catch up with you later.’

/>   The call cut. Beth chewed the side of her mouth, then indicated and pulled over. She was only ten minutes or so from Marie Russell’s home in Kingsthorpe, though it was still possible the press would beat her there. She scrolled through her phone, dialled. Marie answered on the second ring.

  ‘Hello.’ She sounded wary.

  ‘Marie, hi, it’s DC Beth Chamberlain here. How are you this morning?’ she said, trying to gauge whether or not they’d heard the news.

  ‘Okay. Why?’

  ‘I need to speak with you.’ The line stayed silent. ‘It appears the media have made the connection with the child’s body being linked to an historical case and put two and two together. You might get some calls.’

  ‘You’re too late. They’re already outside.’

  Beth’s stomach plummeted. ‘Ah. Are you all at home?’

  ‘Yes. Vic’s getting ready to take Zac to school.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. We’re trying to determine what’s happened.’

  ‘Somebody’s written a newspaper article, that’s what’s happened.’ Marie’s tone was chipped.

  ‘Could I please ask you both not to speak with the reporters? I’m coming straight over. Should be with you in about ten minutes.’

  As soon as Beth ended the call, her mobile rang again. ‘Freeman’ flashed up on the screen.

  ‘Beth, you’ve heard about the leak?’ She flinched as his voice blared through her earpiece and turned the volume down.

  ‘Nick just called to tell me. What happened?’

  ‘It seems our builder witness was contacted by Pip Edwards last night and couldn’t keep his mouth shut. I’ve sent someone out there to have words.’

  ‘Isn’t that the journalist who Daniel Owen took out an injunction against?’

  ‘It is. It seems Mr Edwards is a little obsessed with the case. Reported on it from the initial abduction and as soon as he heard a child’s remains had been found, close to where Alicia went missing, he made the connection. Not unexpected, especially now they know about the bangle. I’m trying to work out how he managed to get the details of the builder. Didn’t even bloody warn us he was going to run the piece.’