The day he took me. I had everything packed, everything arranged. Six months of travelling, maybe longer. I might even have stayed there. But he took me and brought me here. Jesus Christ, why is this happening to me?’
Louise waited for the crying to stop, then asked, ‘Is there anyone special in your life?’
‘No,’ came the answer, followed by more silence.
‘I’m married. My husband’s name is John. We were going to start a family. My God, John. He must be beside himself. Blaming himself. I miss him so much. Please, God, let me see him again.’ She felt sorrow and loss threatening to engulf her. It wasn’t what she needed now and she pushed all thoughts of home and lovers away. ‘Karen, I need to ask you something …’
‘What?’
‘These clothes I’m wearing – are they the same clothes he made you wear? Are these the clothes he took from you before I got here?’ There was no answer. ‘Please,’ she tried. ‘I need to know.’ She waited, dreading the answer.
‘I can’t be sure,’ Karen lied. ‘They look the same, but I can’t be sure.’
‘They are, aren’t they?’ Louise pressed. ‘Aren’t they?’
‘Yes,’ Karen almost shouted before returning to a whisper. ‘Now you know. Now you know what’s going to happen to you.’
Trying to comprehend the enormity of what she was being told, Louise looked across the cellar at the wretched creature in the opposite cage, filthy and bruised, covered in his foul scent, with his diseased seed forced inside her. She wouldn’t let it happen to her. She couldn’t let it happen to her.
She tried to imagine Karen away from this hell, in Australia somewhere, on a beach, happy and tanned, her attractive young body drawing attention from the men showing off on the beach. No cares, no worries, young and alive, enjoying the adventure of a lifetime. The image almost made her happy, but then it made her sad, replaced by thoughts of herself at home, cooking something in the kitchen while John tried to help but only succeeded in getting in the way. Herself happy and looking forward to having a bump in her belly and shopping for tiny clothes. Feeling safe. Above all else, she feels safe.
What wouldn’t she give to feel safe again? Louise closed her eyes, promising herself that she would never undervalue that feeling ever again, just so long as she could live through this.
Karen’s voice broke the silence. ‘When he takes away your clothes, when he comes to you the way he comes to me, if he offers you drugs, take them. It makes it easier. You’ll feel less.’ Then she rolled over so her back faced Louise, leaving her alone in the silent darkness, happy thoughts of her home and husband chased away by the gathering demons of things yet to come.
Sean paced the floor of his office, listening to Donnelly updating him on the progress of the forensic examination of Louise Russell’s car. Roddis’s team had searched the area around the vehicle, but found nothing. The car had then been loaded on to a flat-back lorry, covered in a plastic tarpaulin and carried off to the forensic car-pound at Charlton, where it would be minutely examined inside and out. By the time they had finished it would be little more than a shell, but any evidence would have been carefully and meticulously bagged and tagged before being sent off to the various private forensic laboratories that had taken over from the once fabled do-all government-funded lab at Lambeth. Another stroke of genius from the powers that be, granting access to highly sensitive material to commercial enterprises all for the sake of saving a few pounds.
His eye was drawn to movement in the main office: Sally had come in and was making her way to her desk. He summoned her with a jut of his chin. She dropped her computer case on her chair and headed straight for them, eyes down and shoulders slumped. Watching her, Sean was again reminded how much he missed the person she used to be. She walked into his office and sat without being asked. ‘What’s happening?’ she demanded.
‘Not enough,’ Sean replied.
‘Whatever that means,’ she said, oblivious to her own mood. Sean let it slide.
‘We’ve been on this for twenty-four hours. He snatched her in broad daylight in her own car. He’s a planner and he’s organized. He would have checked her house before he took her, made sure he couldn’t be seen.’
‘So he’s been there before,’ Donnelly surmised.
‘Yes, but when?’ Sean asked. ‘Sally, have the door-to-door team ask neighbours to think back at least a couple of weeks for sightings of strangers hanging around.’ She scribbled something in her notebook. Sean took it as a sign she understood.
‘What else?’ said Donnelly. ‘Any insights?’ Sean knew the question was directed solely at him.
‘No,’ he answered, not entirely truthfully. ‘Other than I believe he’s local and probably lives alone in a decent-sized house or maybe somewhere reasonably isolated. He needs space and privacy.’
‘For what?’ Sally joined in.
‘I don’t know yet,’ Sean answered, ‘but I know it’s bad. Sorry.’ Sally looked at the floor again. Sean wanted to bring her back. ‘But you’re right. We need to work out why he takes them. When we understand that, we’ll be that much closer to catching him.’
‘Them?’ Sally stopped him. ‘You said them.’
‘I meant her,’ he lied again.
‘No you didn’t,’ Sally insisted. Sean didn’t reply.
‘Oh, bloody marvellous,’ Donnelly exclaimed. ‘You mean there’s going to be more?’
‘Only if we don’t stop him in time,’ Sean pointed out.
‘But surely we have to consider the possibility this is a one-off, that for whatever reason Louise Russell was special to him?’ Donnelly insisted. ‘Special enough to make him want to take her.’
‘She was special to him,’ Sean agreed, ‘but not because of any relationship between them. She was a stranger to him and he to her. He chose her quite deliberately, maybe because of the way she looked or maybe just because of the type of house she lived in – I don’t know yet. But whatever he saw in her, he’ll see in others. That much I’m sure of. If we don’t find him, there will be others.’
Sally came back to them. ‘There was no forced entry,’ she pointed out. ‘So maybe she knew whoever took her.’
‘She was young and strong and in her own home. She had no reason to be fearful of a knock at the door. Do you only open the door to people you know?’ Sean regretted his question as soon as it was out of his mouth. Sally unflinchingly held his gaze, her misting eyes accusing him. His desk phone saved him from making it worse by ringing before he had a chance to say sorry, the last thing Sally wanted to hear. He snatched it like a drowning man reaching for a life-jacket. ‘DI Corrigan.’
‘Andy Roddis here,’ announced the forensic team leader. ‘Bad news, I’m afraid. No match on file for the prints we lifted from the Russell home. Sorry.’
‘Damn it,’ Sean said calmly, despite the twisting in his guts. ‘I wasn’t expecting that.’
‘Nor me,’ Roddis confided.
‘What
