Page 33 of Stolen Ones

Kim turned to her colleague as he negotiated an island.

‘You do know you get no points for reciting my exact conversation with Woody.’

‘I’m saying it out loud to prove it.’ He frowned. ‘I was a constable then – how do I not know about it?’

‘Two reasons: it was a South Staffs case not West Mids and the coverage got lost somewhere between an earthquake in Algeria that killed 171 people and the opening of the Commonwealth Games in Canada.’

‘How closely has she been questioned? Do you think she can identify Steven Harte?’

‘Shit, I was in such a rush this morning after no sleep that I forgot to pack my crystal ball, tarot cards and other fortune-telling devices, so I suppose we’d best just talk to her and find out.’

‘A simple “not sure” would have sufficed, and while you were searching for your crystal ball, I was following Harte while explaining on the phone to Laura the type of wiper blades she needs for her car, which I now have the pleasure of fitting when I get home.’

‘Don’t say it as though you mind it,’ Kim said.

‘What I mind is that it was only ten minutes ago I was fixing stabilisers to her first bike and now its wiper blades to her car.’ He shook his head. ‘Doesn’t matter how much time passes, you still want to protect them.’

They remained locked in their own thoughts until Bryant pulled up outside a small semi-detached house in Lower Gornal.

‘Hope she’s not gonna mind us dredging it all up for her,’ Bryant said as they approached the front door.

‘With an eight-year-old girl still missing I can take a little discomfort.’

A woman answered the door wearing a pencil skirt, heels, collared shirt and carrying a laundry basket.

Her pleasant features instantly contorted into concern as most parents’ faces did when strangers knocked on their door.

Kim took out her ID and introduced them both. ‘And your daughter is fine,’ she added, to put her mind at ease.

‘How did you know I have a daughter?’ she asked, panicking.

Kim nodded towards the linen basket that was drowning in small pink garments.

‘Oh, of course. I’m sorry, how can I help?’

Kim took a breath. She didn’t know how much pain she was about to cause.

‘May we talk to you about what happened to you as a child?’

‘Sorry?’

For a moment Kim thought there had been some kind of mistake.

‘The abduction?’

‘Oh, yes, of course,’ she said dismissively. ‘Come in, but we’ll have to chat upstairs while I do this, or I’ll be late for work.’

Kim followed her upstairs and into the first bedroom on the left. Bryant remained in the doorway.

‘Nice room,’ Kim said, taking a quick look around.

A white quilt cover with daisies matched the pillowcase. A couple of Barbie dolls sat on the bedside cabinet. A small desk sat beneath a wall-mounted TV. Perhaps a little dated but spacious despite the three-quarter-sized bed.

‘Cammie likes it. She’d love a computer up here but that’s not happening.’

Kim smiled as the woman took out folded clothes and started putting them away.

‘So, how can I help?’