Luke Delaney - The Toy Taker

‘Looking,’ Sean answered.

‘For what?’

‘Anything. Anything out of place.’

Jessica’s eyes fell on the doll he held. ‘Like that doll?’ she asked, her dead eyes flaring with anger. ‘Like you shouldn’t find a doll like that in a house owned by people like us? What is it — too classy for people like us?’

‘No,’ Sean protested, the doll suddenly heavy and awkward in his hands. ‘I was just-’

‘Nathan and I earned everything we have. We weren’t born with silver spoons in our mouths like most of the people in this street who can hardly even bring themselves to speak to us. Nathan started as little more than the tea-boy — only sixteen he was, but he showed them — showed them how good he was — working in the City, surrounded by all them superior bastards, just because they went to the right schools and the right bloody universities. He proved he was better than them and this is our reward, so we’ll spend our money how we bloody well like. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have taste. What did you expect — that I’d only ever let Bailey have Barbie dolls and crap?’

‘No,’ Sean explained. ‘It’s just that it reminded me of something my wife would want to buy for my girls, even if they didn’t want it.’

She walked deeper into the room and gently took the doll from him, holding it in one hand as she smoothed its long hair with her other. ‘I didn’t want to buy it,’ she admitted. ‘Stupid thing cost a fortune, but Bailey insisted and I can be such a soft touch — you know how it is with kids.’

‘Absolutely,’ Sean confided, trying to remember the last time he’d been in a toyshop with his daughters.

‘Anyway, she made a liar out of me. She plays with it all the time.’ She shook her head disapprovingly and smiled despite the quiet tears that had begun to trickle from the corners of her eyes. ‘Look at all these toys,’ she said. ‘Didn’t have toys like this when we were kids. Didn’t have any money — not like now. Me and Nathan back then — both our families always pot-less, trying to survive on our council estate in Holloway, trying to find a way to escape.’

‘Looks like you did.’

‘Yeah, we did. All the way from Holloway to Highgate — you know we were brought up less than two miles from here, but it feels more like two hundred miles. Different world.’

‘That’s London,’ Sean reminded her, thinking of his own home’s proximity to some of the toughest council estates in south-east London.

‘I suppose,’ she agreed. ‘But I tell you now, I’d give it all up in a second to have my Bailey back. They can take it all, just give me my daughter back.’

‘I don’t believe this is about any sort of ransom,’ Sean explained.

‘That’s not what I meant,’ she told him. ‘I know she wasn’t taken for money. I mean that if we don’t get her back then this is all for nothing. Everything we’ve achieved will be for nothing. Our lives will never be the same again. They’ll never be good again, not without Bailey.’

‘Don’t give up hope,’ Sean encouraged.

‘Haven’t you?’ she caught him cold. ‘Do you really think she’s all right?’

‘I think there’s a good chance of it, but I need to find her quickly, and to do that I need you to do everything I ask and do it as quickly as you can.’

‘I’ll do anything,’ she told him, almost pleading. ‘Just promise me you’ll bring her back. You’ll bring her home. I don’t think I could go on if something’s happened to her, if she’s-’

‘I promise,’ Sean assured her, the weight of the oath heavy on his shoulders and conscience. ‘I need to go now. I’ve got a lot to sort out. Are you coming downstairs?’

‘No,’ she answered. ‘I’d like to sit here for a while.’

‘Of course,’ he agreed. ‘I understand. I’ll have a Family Liaison Officer assigned to you full time. If you think of anything that could help, anything at all, you need to tell them, or if you’d prefer you can call me — any time.’ He slipped a business card from his pocket and handed it to her. She nodded that she understood and sat slowly on the unmade bed, staring down at the porcelain doll in her lap, still smoothing its hair. ‘I’ll be in touch soon,’ he told her and walked from the bedroom, closing the door, giving Jessica privacy for her grief.

He headed down the stairs moving far quicker than he’d climbed them, snapping the latex gloves from his hands and being careful not to touch the no doubt already contaminated banister rail. The house that had seemed so large and spacious now felt claustrophobic and oppressive. He cleared the bottom two stairs in one bound and strode into the kitchen where the three detectives stood alone. ‘Mr Fellowes?’ he immediately asked.

‘Not back yet,’ Sally told him.

‘Hopefully he’s getting what we asked for,’ Sean replied before turning to DI Adams. ‘My people will be here soon to take this over. In the meantime, see if you can’t get the family to move out so Forensics aren’t tripping over them.’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Adams assured him.

‘Once you have the names of the removal people etc, email them directly to me,’ Sean continued, pulling out another business card. ‘My email address is on there. Phone me if you have to.’

‘Going somewhere?’ Adams asked.

‘I’ve got a lot to get through. Can’t do it standing around here,’ Sean answered, sensing Adams’ annoyance. ‘Listen, I know you’re busy, but I need someone who knows what they’re doing to babysit this one until I get things up and running. The eyes of the world are on us. Someone needs to watch over this family, just for a while.’

Adams looked at DS Wright, who still hadn’t spoken, and then back to Sean. ‘All right. I can give you a couple of hours, then you’d better have your people here to relieve us.’

‘I will,’ Sean promised. ‘And thank you.’ He summoned Sally with a nod of his head and made for the exit, calling back to Adams as they walked: ‘Call me as soon as they come up with the names,’ he reminded him, wasting no time in making for the front door and out into the street beyond, breathing in the fresh cold air like a man who’d escaped from a dungeon.

‘You all right?’ Sally asked, hands thrust into her coat pockets against the cold, wishing she still smoked.

‘Yeah, I’m fine, or at least as fine as I’m going to be.’

‘So where are we heading in such a hurry?’

‘To see McKenzie.’

‘McKenzie? Why we wasting our time with him?’

‘Just because he was locked up last night doesn’t mean he wasn’t involved,’ Sean explained.

‘You think he could be working with somebody else — maybe numerous somebody elses?’

‘We have to consider it, after everything he’s told us, after everything we’ve found out about him.’

‘D’you want me to call ahead and get his solicitor there for the interview?’

‘No,’ Sean snapped, running his fingers through his light brown hair. ‘No brief. I need to see him up-close-and-personal — need to see his eyes when I ask him what I need to ask him.’

‘And what’s that?’ Sally asked, suspicious and concerned.

‘Why,’ Sean told her. ‘I need to ask him why.’

‘Why what?’

‘Why he’d want me to think he took George Bridgeman. Why would he do that? Why would anyone do that?’

‘Well, I guess we’ll find out,’ Sally said. ‘Soon enough.’

‘Yes,’ Sean told her. ‘Yes we will.’

Thirty minutes later Sean and Sally were following the gaoler at Kentish Town Police Station along the old, stone corridor of the cell passage. The eyes of the inmates were pushed up against their spyholes in the hope of catching a glimpse of life beyond their stone and metal prisons. The abuse was punctuated by the occasional wolf-whistle that Sean assumed was for Sally’s benefit.