Val McDermid - The Vanishing Point

Vivian checked out the phone on the desk. Yes, it had speakerphone capability. She gave Stephanie a long, level look. ‘I’m not obliged to facilitate any personal communications you want to make. Not in the middle of an investigation as serious as this. But I’m willing to let you make the two phone calls you asked for. I’m going to put you on speakerphone so I can hear the conversation and if you stray into an area I consider to be inappropriate, then I will intervene. Is that clear?’

Stephanie looked relieved. ‘You mean, if I call Randy Parton an authoritarian twat, you’ll shut me up?’

Vivian couldn’t repress a smile. ‘More like, “Here’s what the FBI are doing.” Who do you want to call first?’

‘My parents. Now the news is out, my mother will be in a state.’

‘You’ll need to hit nine for an outside line.’ Vivian pushed the phone towards her and watched her key in the number. They both listened as the phone rang out. Once, twice, then the tinny emptiness of a transatlantic speakerphone line. ‘Hello?’ It was the voice of an older woman – hesitant, light, insubstantial.

‘Hi, Mum. It’s Stephanie.’

‘Thank God! Robert, it’s Stephanie. We’ve been so worried, we saw on the ten o’clock news that Jimmy’s been kidnapped. We couldn’t believe it. You don’t expect things like that to happen to people you know.’ She sounded affronted, as if the abduction were a personal insult.

‘It’s all been a bit of a shock,’ Stephanie said.

‘Well, it’s been a shock for us too. You must be in a terrible state. How did it happen? You take your eyes off them for a moment . . .’

‘I was in a cubicle waiting to be patted down. I set the metal detector off. My leg, you know? And a man walked off with him.’

‘Well, I never. That’s America for you. You wouldn’t have something like that happening over here, would you?’

Stephanie made an apologetic face at Vivian, who smiled and shrugged. ‘It could have happened anywhere, Mum.’

‘And what about you, you poor thing? Are you all right?’

‘I’m fine. I’m helping the FBI put together a picture of our life.’

‘The FBI? Oh, Robert, she’s with the FBI. I never thought a child of mine would end up in the hands of the FBI. Oh, Stephanie, you must be worried sick. I hope they’re treating you properly. You hear all sorts—’

‘Don’t worry about me, Mum. I’m fine. It’s Jimmy you should be worrying about.’

The sound of a dismissive sniff travelled the best part of four thousand miles. ‘I knew it would be nothing but trouble, you taking on that boy.’

Stephanie pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and index finger. This was the last thing she needed. ‘Let’s not go over this again. The point is that somebody has abducted Jimmy and yes, I am worried sick about him. He’s only five, Mum. Try and remember what that’s like. I’ve got to go now. I just wanted to let you know there’s no reason to worry about me. I’ll call you when I’ve any news.’

Without waiting to hear any more, Stephanie pressed the button to disconnect the call. She exhaled heavily, staring at the table. ‘My mother thinks I should have handed Jimmy over to social services,’ she said, her voice heavy and dull. ‘She’s led a pretty narrow life.’

Vivian often wished her own mother’s life had been a little narrower. She’d been a major in Army Intelligence and made no secret of the fact that she thought the FBI was a poor second to her own world. Maybe if her mother had been like Mrs Harker, Vivian wouldn’t have felt quite the same urge constantly to prove herself. ‘Mothers,’ she said. ‘We’re never the daughters they hoped for.’

Stephanie lifted her head in surprise and gave Vivian a tiny nod of acknowledgement. ‘My agent?’

Vivian extended a hand. ‘Be my guest.’

This time, there was no hesitancy in the voice that answered. ‘Maggie Silver,’ came the confident greeting.

‘Maggie,’ Stephanie said. ‘I thought I’d better give you a call.’

‘ Darling ,’ Maggie drawled, her excitement obvious. ‘I’m so pleased to hear your dear voice. I left a voicemail when I heard the news . I couldn’t believe it. How absolutely awful for you. And that poor , dear boy. It’s all over Twitter, you know. Not to mention the rolling news. Do tell me they’ve found him safe and well.’

‘I wish I could. But there’s no trace of him yet.’ Stephanie looked as if she might burst into tears. ‘It’s really scary, Maggie. One minute he was there, the next he was gone.’

‘I simply don’t understand how this could happen . Was no one paying attention to Jimmy while you were off being searched?’

‘Apparently not.’

‘How simply frightful . But there’s no point in blame , not now. The important thing is getting Jimmy back safely. Do they want money ? Or is it one of these mad political groups looking for publicity ?’

‘We don’t know. We’ve heard nothing. I’m talking to the FBI, telling them everything I can about Jimmy’s history. And mine.’

‘You’ll be there all night , then, darling.’ Maggie said tartly. ‘I hope you’ve got a nice dishy profiler like William Petersen in Manhunter .’ The women’s eyes met and they both smiled. ‘Now, look, the papers are going to be all over this.’ Maggie’s tone turned businesslike. ‘I’m going to need copy from you whenever you can sit down and collect yourself. It’s too late for tomorrow’s papers, but I’m sure I can get you a nice show in the Mail or the Mirror . How soon can you let me have an “I” piece?’

‘I’ve no idea. It’s the last thing on my mind, to be honest.’

‘Sweetie, it’ll be good for you to order your thoughts rather than sitting brooding . Trust me, Maggie knows best. Call me in the morning, we’ll take it from there. And look after yourself, darling. Get some sleep, OK?’

‘I’ll try. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.’

And that was that. There was no doubt that Maggie Silver saw Jimmy Higgins’ disappearance as a potential source of income. But it seemed as much of a shock to her as it had to Stephanie herself.

As if Stephanie were reading her mind, she said, ‘So now you’ve experienced the lovely Maggie. You have to admit, if I was planning this as a publicity stunt, she’s the agent you’d want to have in your corner. Let me set your mind at rest. I won’t be writing anything for the Daily Mail tomorrow. Or any other day, if it’s up to me. All I want is to have Jimmy back in my arms. Besides that, everything else pales into insignificance.’

Vivian nodded, believing her. ‘Sure. Now, can we get back to Pete Matthews? I need to ask you: Do you think he’s capable of nursing his grudge against you for all these years? Do you think he would abduct Jimmy simply to get back at you?’

Stephanie frowned. ‘That’s too much of a straight line. If Pete did this, his motive would be different. Somehow, he’d have convinced himself that this was the way not to get back at me but to get me back.’

28

Talking to my female friends about Pete, it was sometimes hard to get through to them how scary he’d become. When I talked about his constant messages and emails, the flowers he sent to Maggie’s office for me, the way he’d followed me in the street, one or two of them were incredulous. ‘And you keep knocking him back?’ one said. ‘I’d love to have a man that devoted to me.’

Because he never openly menaced me, it wasn’t easy to explain how threatening I found his behaviour. Scarlett totally got it, though. Because of her own experiences with the media, she understood my terror of being turned into what Leanne had jokingly called a ‘prisoner of love’. It made her shudder with horror, and it was one of the many reasons why living at the hacienda was a very easy option.