Page 53

CHAPTER 53

MELANIE – D AY F OUR

When FaceTime connects and they appear – George sat on his dad’s knee with his arm in plaster – it is almost too much. Melanie feels something shift inside. Not guilt. Something else.

‘Hello, darling boy. How are you?’

‘It itches.’ He holds up his arm closer to the phone camera and Melanie realises it’s relief she feels. That her son, this boy even with his broken arm, is safe.

While Amelie . . . Day four.

‘We’re all packed. Ready to set off for home,’ Tom says suddenly. ‘So you can show Mummy all your signatures very soon.’

‘I got lots. All the cousins and the man who runs our favourite café here signed it too. He drew a picture of an ice-cream cone. Look.’ George moves his cast closer to the camera.

‘Quite a good artist.’ Melanie clears her throat, pushing down the shame of her relief. Her little family. Safe. While Matthew and Sally ...

‘I can’t wait to see you, sweet boy. Give you a big hug.’

‘Well, you can’t squeeze too tight.’ He widens his eyes, tone matter-of-fact. ‘You’ll hurt my arm.’

Melanie laughs. ‘I promise not to squeeze too tight but you’re getting a snuggle. No arguments.’

George smiles. ‘And a present? For being brave?’

His tone is cheeky and Melanie smiles, pleased to see he’s definitely doing OK. ‘As soon as I finish this case, we’ll have a treat. All three of us. And yes, of course you get a present for being so brave.’

‘Have you found Amelie?’ George asks suddenly, his face more serious. Melanie realises it was inevitable that he’d figure out what was going on. Her picture everywhere. Newspapers and TV and social media. But it hurts to see his concern. His worry.

‘We’re still looking, darling.’

‘And how is all that going there?’ Tom asks, his face also more serious.

‘Still busy. But I’ll be home with you tonight. And I’ll stay overnight at home from here on. Try to get more sleep.’

‘Good. So we’ll see you later, then?’

‘Course. Hope you have a good journey. Not too many burgers on the way.’

‘Sorry, Mummy. Boy time. What happens on the drive, stays on the drive.’ Her husband is smiling as he speaks, trying to lift the mood for George, but the smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He looks tense. And tired. It’s obviously been a lot – holidaying without her and then the complication of the accident.

‘Bye, Mummy. Will you sign my arm?’

‘Course I will. I’ll sign it this evening. Bye, darling.’

As the call disconnects, Melanie lets out a long sigh. She breathes in and out slowly several times to steady herself as she thinks of George and Amelie in Matthew and Sally’s garden. Amelie on the swing and George kicking a football around. Finally she pulls herself up straight. She picks up her jacket from the chair and puts it on before striding from her makeshift overnight camp cum office back to the main inquiry hub.

One of the team has been on a bakery run. A box of doughnuts on a central table. And one of the younger detectives is tucking into some kind of hot pastry – a croissant with a cheese filling which is drawn into a long, hot string as he pulls back, fanning his mouth with his hand.

Melanie skipped lunch and is just acknowledging that she feels hungry herself when Sam strides towards her from across the office. ‘Another lead from the press appeal. A second guy reckons he may have seen the man carrying the girl in the car park.’

‘A new witness?’

‘Yes. I asked him to come straight in. He’s downstairs. You want me to handle it?’

‘No. I want to hear this. Front desk?’

‘Yes.’

Melanie heads straight through the CID corridor and takes the stairs two at a time. At the front desk she updates that she’s taking on the new witness personally. She’s given the name, Malcolm Bell, from the logbook and calls it out. In the waiting area, a tall man stands with a golden retriever on a lead, the dog’s tail wagging furiously.

‘Hello. I’m DI Sanders. They didn’t mention the dog. He’s a beauty.’

‘She actually. I was on a walk when I phoned in. They asked me to come straight here. Is the dog a problem? Shall I come back later without her?’

‘No. Absolutely not. You bring her through and follow me.’ Melanie uses her pass to open the security door alongside reception.

‘Sorry. Sorry, boss. The dog?’ The constable on reception looks thrown. Melanie realises she’s not up to speed on the rules. Animals.

‘Guide dog,’ she says quickly. ‘Pop it in the logbook as a guide dog.’

‘Seriously? You’re saying you have a blind witness, guv,’ the constable says sarcastically as he writes in the log.

‘Write what you like. The dog’s coming in.’ Melanie holds the door for the tall witness, winking at him. ‘This way.’

Upstairs in her office, she asks if the dog would like a digestive biscuit, rummaging in her desk drawer for her supply.

‘Oh no,’ says Malcolm. ‘Sophie’s on a strict diet. Golden retrievers are terrible pigs,’ he says, smiling. ‘She has this look she gives me and I’m afraid I’m a soft touch. Give in too often. The vet says she must lose weight.’

Melanie looks at the dog and likes her even more. ‘I feel you,’ she says, smoothing the top of her head. She then grabs her notebook and turns back to Malcolm. ‘Right. So tell me what you saw.’

‘OK. I feel awful actually. As if I should have done something. But a few days back, I saw this guy, carrying a girl in a green dress across the car park. It worried me a bit as she looked conked out. Too big to be carried, really. Not a toddler, I mean. Maybe about eight, nine.’

‘What did she look like? You’ve seen the pictures of Amelie on the news? Was it her?’

‘I couldn’t say a hundred per cent it was Amelie, the missing girl. Her head was sort of tucked into the man’s chest so I didn’t see her face properly. But she had brown hair. Long hair. So it could have been. I was thinking I should go across and offer to help or find out what was going on but another guy in a black leather jacket went up to them. It looked as if he was offering to help so I watched. They chatted a bit. Everything seemed to be OK. The man in the leather jacket raised his hand in farewell. It seemed relaxed between them, so I assumed everything was OK. The man then carried the girl around the corner.’

‘You saw which car he took her to?’ Melanie feels her pulse increasing.

‘Yes. It was a black Volvo. An estate.’

‘And he put the girl in the car?’

‘I’m so sorry. I guess so but I didn’t actually see that. I turned away and walked into town.’ He pauses, stroking the dog. ‘Like I say, I feel terrible. When the appeal first went out, I was thrown because they said the missing girl was wearing a pink hoodie.’

‘The man carrying her. He wasn’t carrying her hoodie. Anything pink?’

‘No. But he did have a bag with him. It could have been in there, I suppose. It was only when the new appeal mentioned the green dress, I realised I should have phoned before. I feel just awful.’

‘OK. Don’t feel bad. This is really helpful. I don’t suppose you noticed any of the letters on the number plate. The black Volvo.’

‘I’m so sorry. I knew you’d ask that. I’ve been trying to picture it but I just didn’t look closely.’

‘OK. But the man. What was he like?’

‘He was tall and very stocky. Looked strong. Brown slicked-back hair. Forties.’

‘Do you think you could sit in with our sketch artist, work up an image of the man? The other witness did that. We can put your two photofits together.’

‘Yes. I think I can do that for you. If you think it might be important?’

‘Thank you. I do.’ Melanie feels a sweep of cold as she thinks again of Amelie, knocked out in some way, and carried across that car park.

‘I really do think it could help us.’