Lynda La Plante: Twisted

‘I want my daughter back, Inspector Reid… I just can’t cope not knowing what’s happened to her… please find her, please.’ She began sobbing and took hold of his hand as if she and Amy’s life depended on him.

Remaining calm, he gently eased his hand free, and then gestured to Barbara to assist Lena. Barbara got some tissues out of her pocket and put her arm round Lena.

Reid couldn’t help but be moved by the turmoil Mrs Fulford was going through, and realized how inexperienced he was in dealing with this kind of missing persons case. In the few months he had run the unit he’d only dealt with two high-risk cases and they were resolved before the homicide unit became involved. An elderly man had disappeared from a care home, and was found in woodland a few days later, having died from hypothermia. The other was a five-year-old boy who had wandered off when his mother’s back was turned and tragically drowned after falling into a neighbour’s pond. In both cases there had been some form of resolution for him and closure for the grieving families. But Amy’s case was different as there were so many unknowns about her disappearance. He wanted it to be resolved quickly for Lena Fulford’s sake, but he knew that he was playing catch-up, with three days having passed since she went missing. He wondered if he should maybe consider her case as high risk and report it to the chief superintendent, but worried that it would look as if he were panicking and jumping the gun. His mind was made up; at present Amy would remain medium risk until there was evidence to suggest that she had come to any harm. Besides, after five days, if she was not found alive and well, protocol dictated he would have to inform the DCS.

Reid waited for Lena Fulford to regain her composure before he suggested it would be best for her to return home and get some rest. He offered to get Barbara Burrows to drive her home but Lena said that she had her car with her and would be fine.

‘I will try and visit you at your house later, Mrs Fulford, as I’d like to meet your husband as well. For now I need to fully brief my team and get the ball rolling in the search for Amy. I will instigate house-to-house enquiries where your husband and the Newmans live, as well as in your own area. I can assure you, Mrs Fulford, we will leave no stone unturned – every bit of available CCTV will be recovered and viewed so as to track and trace Amy’s movements and successfully find her.’

Burrows was surprised by what DI Reid was saying. He was rattling off everything the missing persons manual advised, but the feasibility of doing everything he said was nigh-on impossible with such a small team on the Richmond mispers unit. Most of their cases were cut and dried – care home or disadvantaged kids who regularly ran away, and in most cases were located within a few days without calling in the cavalry from the murder squads. Amy Fulford didn’t fit the usual profile – she was from a wealthy family, at boarding school, and from her photograph an exceptionally beautiful young girl. Burrows hoped she would be traced quickly.

Agnes was emptying the dishwasher when she heard the door. ‘Hello, Mrs Fulford, you were out early this morning.’

‘Agnes, there’s a police officer coming round, I’ve forgotten his name, but he will be here to talk to you about Amy.’

‘Oh my God, there hasn’t been an accident, has there?’

‘No, but she’s been missing since Saturday afternoon.’

Agnes shook her head in shock, but Lena had already hurried up the stairs. She threw her coat over the bed and pulled off the polo-neck sweater; she needed a shower as her nerves had made her sweat. Hurrying into her bathroom she turned on the shower as she took off her jeans and kicked her shoes aside. She physically jumped when Agnes tapped on the door.

‘Is there anything you’d like me to get you, Mrs Fulford?’

‘No, I’m going to get changed quickly and, Agnes, there’s a drawer in Amy’s dressing table that’s locked – have you any idea where the key would be?’

‘No, I’ve never even seen the drawer open,’ Agnes said quickly in a defensive tone.

‘I’m not accusing you of anything; I’m simply trying to find the key. Do you know where it is?’

‘Not a clue. Maybe Amy keeps it with her?’

‘Yes. Well, have a look around, I’d like to open the drawer; and Agnes, can you prepare a tray of coffee and sandwiches? Marcus is also coming over and I haven’t had lunch.’

Agnes went back to the kitchen, thinking that if her daughter Natalie was missing she wouldn’t be ordering coffee and sandwiches, she’d be out searching for her. She never had much to do with Amy, as she was off at the weekends, and always stayed with her daughter in Milton Keynes. By the time she came to work on the Monday, Amy was already back at school. She opened a packet of fresh honey-baked ham and selected some tomatoes and lettuce. Making up the sandwiches, she wondered whether or not Mrs Fulford would prefer the best china, but knowing how particular she was, she decided to wait until she came down.

Lena closed her eyes; the warm shower was relaxing her. She washed her hair at the same time, soaping up the frothing foam and then using the residue to wash her armpits and then gritted her teeth to turn on the cold water to rinse. As the warm water had relaxed her, the icy cold made her body tingle and she then gave herself a really hard rubdown with a snow-white towel. Naked, she went into the bedroom and turned on the hair dryer, not bothering to carefully style her thick hair, but simply running her fingers through it to dry it as quickly as possible. She gave her still damp hair a few brush strokes and chose underwear, a silk blouse and suede trousers with high-heeled leather boots. Staring at her face in the magnifying mirror on her dressing table, she saw she looked paler than ever, but her skin was fresh and glowing from the icy-cold shower. She brushed on a light powder foundation, soft brown eye shadow and then some mascara to darken her eyelashes. She was very adept at making it appear she wore no makeup, but of late the telltale lines had started showing between her eyes and at their corners, and from her nose to mouth. The only sign that Lena, beneath her carefully created image of fresh innocence, was quite a tough woman were her eyes. They often gave off a steely cold expression, and her mouth frequently turned down into not exactly a grimace but a tight thin-lipped line.

The doorbell ringing made her hurry out of the bedroom, but by the time she had reached the bottom stair Agnes had let Marcus in. He still had his own key, but Lena had asked him never to use it and threatened she would change the locks if he did.

Marcus looked dreadful; he needed a shave, his jeans were crumpled, as was his shirt, and he wore an old leather bomber jacket. She didn’t waste time on any pleasantries, but asked him to come with her into Amy’s bedroom.

‘Have you found something?’ he asked.

‘I don’t know yet; there’s a locked drawer in the dressing table and maybe Amy’s diaries and journal are inside it,’ she said as he followed her up the stairs.

‘What had happened at the police station?’

‘I gave every detail that I could think of to a policewoman, and spoke with an Inspector Reid who was the detective in charge. He’s starting house-to-house enquiries and was very positive about finding Amy.’

Marcus gave a cursory look around as he followed Lena up the stairs and onto the first-floor landing. The house looked more or less the same as he had left it. Always the fresh flowers in large bowls, a profusion of plants, and the pictures that they had bought together over the years. The fitted carpet was new, but in the same deep moss-green as it had always been, but there were new brass stair rods, and walking along the landing he also saw there was a new chandelier.