Eyes of the Wicked Page 3
“She’s alive,” he told himself. All through the investigation, which had basically come up with nothing but dead ends, he’d held out hope that Abigail was alive. It was the only way to conduct a missing persons investigation as far as he was concerned. But that hope had been wearing a bit thin lately. Now she’d been found, and his investigation would have a new focus; that of finding her abductor.
He went back downstairs and found Rowena waiting by the front door with a paper bag and a Thermos flask. “Sandwiches and coffee,” she said as she handed them to him. “And please be careful.”
“I’m always careful.” He took his heavy winter coat from the stand by the door, kissed his wife, and stepped out into the wintry evening.
“See if you can find us a house by the sea while you’re there,” Rowena called after him as he unlocked his Range Rover.
He smiled. They’d talked about a house by the sea for years. Living in landlocked Derbyshire made that dream seem very far away but they’d vaguely promised each other that they’d retire to the coast eventually. That sounded fine to Battle but he had no intention of retiring yet and had a few years to go before the force kicked him out. He intended to use those years to do as much good police work as he could. The sea could wait a little longer. It wasn’t going anywhere.
He climbed into his Range Rover and switched on the SatNav. When he typed Whitby Hospital into the destination field and saw that it was almost a four-hour drive, he groaned. Before he could embark on the trek north, he had to drive to Abigail’s house and tell her parents that she’d been found. They lived in Matlock, which was half an hour’s drive from here. He wouldn’t get to Whitby until the early hours of tomorrow morning at this rate.
He used his mobile to call Lorna Morgan, his DS. When she answered, he said, “Lorna, meet me at the Newton’s house as soon as you can. And bring whatever you need for a trip to Whitby.”
“I’m assuming you’re not taking me on holiday, guv,” she said. Then her tone darkened, and she asked, “Has something happened?”
“They’ve found her, Lorna. The North Yorkshire Police have found Abigail.” Before she could ask the inevitable question, he added, “She’s alive.”
He heard her sigh on the other end of the line. “Thank God for that. How is she?”
“Not sure yet. In shock, apparently. She was wandering over the moors. We’ll know more when we get to the hospital in Whitby.”
“Right, I’ll meet you at the Newton house. They’ll be so relieved to know she’s alive.”
“They will,” he agreed before ending the call.
He supposed he should call the Superintendent and let him know what was happening. If the press got wind of this, they’d be hounding the Derbyshire force for information and in Battle’s absence, it would be up to the Super to make a statement to the media. He didn’t have the Super’s home number so he dialled his work number instead. He could leave a voicemail explaining where he’d gone, and that Abigail had been found.
He was surprised when his call was answered by Jean King, Superintendent Powers’ secretary.
“Jean,” he said. “It’s Stewart Battle. I didn’t expect you to be working so late.”
“The superintendent has a late meeting,” she said curtly. Battle had known Jean for years and had never known her to be anything but curt and to the point.
“Must be important if he’s in the office at this hour. So I take it he’s not available for a chat.”
“He isn’t,” she said.
“Well could you ask him to ring me when he’s done?”
“When he’s done, he’ll be going home to get ready for an evening dinner at the Police Association.”
“Still, I think he’s going to want to speak to me, Jean. What I’ve got to say is more important than hobnobbing with the high-ups.”
She sighed. “All right. What shall I tell him you want to discuss that is so important?”
“Tell him we’ve found Abigail Newton, please. Thanks.”
She started to say something, but Battle ended the call.
He put the Range Rover in reverse and backed out of the drive and onto the road. Turning the SatNav off for now, he set off for Matlock and the Newton residence. Like Lorna had said, Eric and Sarah Newton would be over the moon to discover that their daughter was still alive. Over the course of the three-week investigation, he’d seen the spark of hope gradually fade from their eyes. He couldn’t blame them for fearing the worst; finding an abducted child alive after three weeks was rare.
After that amount of time, if they were found at all it was usually in a shallow grave that some dog walker stumbled across in the woods or washed up in a canal somewhere. Abigail had been lucky to beat the odds.
Or had she? What horrors had she endured at the hands of her captor during the time she’d been missing? Three weeks was a long time to be at the mercy of an abductor.
His mobile, which was synced with the hands-free system in the Range Rover, rang. Battle answered it by pressing a button on the steering wheel. “DCI Battle.”
Superintendent Powers’ voice filled the car. “Battle, what the hell do you mean they’ve found her?”
“Abigail Newton, sir. She’s been found in North Yorkshire.”
“North Yorkshire? What the bloody hell is she doing in North Yorkshire?”
“I don’t know, sir. I’ll hopefully find that out when I get there. I’m on my way there now.”
“Oh,” Powers said. He sounded surprised. “Can’t someone else handle it?”
Now it was Battle’s turn to be surprised. Was his boss trying to take him off the case? “I’m in charge of the Abigail Newton case, sir,” he said, in case Powers had somehow forgotten.
“I know that,” his superior said, “but something’s come up. Something important. I need you here first thing in the morning.”
Battle had no idea what could be so important that Powers was willing to take him off the Abigail Newton case at the moment the girl had been found but he knew that he wasn’t going to abandon Abigail now.
“Sir, this is a critical moment in the case. I need to see this through.”
“Listen, Battle.” Powers voice had risen in tone, betraying his frustration. “You’re off the case. I can’t tell you why over the phone, but you’ll thank me tomorrow. I put in a good word for you this evening so don’t let me down now.”
“What was that? I can’t hear you,” Battle said, even though the superintendent’s voice was booming loud and clear in the car. “You’re breaking up, sir.”
“I said don’t let me down, Battle. Be in my office tomorrow morning at nine sharp.”
Battle hung up. He had no idea what Powers was talking about and at this moment, he didn’t care. He had far more important things demanding his attention. Eric and Sarah needed to be told that their daughter was alive. Abigail needed to be reunited with her parents and brought home. In an ideal world, she’d be able to put the events of the past three weeks behind her but in Battle’s experience working with victims of abduction, that rarely happened.
It was more likely that Abigail would carry emotional scars with her for the rest of her life.
The first flakes of snow hit the windscreen and melted on the glass. The windscreen wipers swept them away.
Battle groaned. This was all he needed. Bad weather and a four-hour drive north. He might as well add an extra hour on that estimate if the roads were going to be bad.
When he arrived at the Newton residence in Matlock, the snow was coming down faster. He could only hope the gritters had been out to keep the main roads clear.
DS Morgan’s cherry red Toyota Yaris was parked outside the Newton house and Morgan was inside the car, waiting for him.
He got out and waved to her. She waved back and climbed out of the Yaris, bundled up in a long woollen coat and scarf. Her face was framed by her long black hair and a blue knitted hat that sat on her head.
“Right, let’s deliver the good news,�
� Battle said. “Then we need to get up to Whitby and see what Abigail can tell us that will help us catch the bastard that did this.” He didn’t mention his conversation with Powers or the fact that the superintendent had told him he was off the case. Powers might have been a good policeman at one time but too much time sitting behind a desk and attending swanky dinners had caused him to put political motivations over good honest police work. He’d never have tried to pull Battle off the Abigail Newton case at the very moment she’d been found otherwise.
They trudged through the deepening snow along the path that led to the unremarkable stone cottage that was Abigail’s home. Battle knocked sharply on the door. They only had to wait a few seconds before it was opened by Eric Newton. His wife stood behind him, a look of horror on her face as she realised the police were calling at this late hour and that could only mean one thing.
Unwilling to prolong their agony a second longer than he had to, Battle simply said, “Abigail has been found. She’s alive.”
Sarah Newton collapsed. Her legs gave way and she slid down the wall until she was sitting on the hallway floor, sobbing. Her husband went to her and put his arms around her.
“Where?” he asked, looking at Battle through tear-filled eyes. “Where is she?”
“She’s in Whitby. She was found wandering on the moors near there.”
“Is she all right? What happened to her?” His voice was becoming desperate.
Battle understood that they wanted answers, but he couldn’t give them any at the moment. “The police have taken her to the hospital because she may be suffering from shock but that’s all I know at the moment. I’ll arrange for a couple of uniformed officers to drive you up there.”
Eric nodded. His wife was still crying, her head buried against her husband’s chest.
“I suggest you pack a bag with some of Abigail’s things,” Battle said. “The police car will be along shortly to take you to her.” He closed the door and walked back along the path with DS Morgan in tow.
“Can you call in and arrange that car?” he asked her.
“Of course, guv.”
He didn’t tell her that he couldn’t do it himself because he was officially off the case.
Chapter Four
December 22nd
Dani woke up with a start. At first, she didn’t know where she was as her bleary eyes picked out an assortment of high-backed chairs --one of which she was sitting on--and a television bolted to the wall with the volume turned down. Then she remembered she was in the Day Room of the ward where Abigail Newton had been taken.
She checked her watch. Almost 2 a.m. Battle should have been here by now, unless the weather was holding him up. She got out of the chair, ignoring an ache in her lower back, and went to the window. The hospital car park and the paths below the window were shrouded with snow. Dani stretched painfully and went in search of Abigail.
A SOCO had been here earlier and had taken away the bloodied nightgown as well as samples from Abigail’s skin and body that a female doctor had collected using a SAFE kit. The process was undignified, but Abigail had taken it all in her stride and Dani had been proud of the girl.
Abigail still wasn’t talking but seemed to have calmed down since Dani first met her in the back of the Volvo in Tollby. She’d been given her own room, a fresh hospital gown, and a sedative before being put to bed with a saline drip in her arm.
Dani had rung Matt Flowers and asked him to arrange for a uniform to be posted outside Abigail’s room. The girl was a witness and her abductor was still at large. Her safety was paramount. But it wasn’t a uniformed officer she found outside Abigail’s room; it was Matt himself.
“Guv,” he said, getting up from a plastic chair he’d placed outside the room.
“Everything okay?” she asked.
“Everything’s quiet. She’s out like a light.”
“Hopefully she’ll stay that way until morning. After what she’s been through, she needs to rest.”
“Do we know what she’s been through?”
“No, not exactly. She isn’t talking.” One thing they did know was that Abigail hadn’t been sexually assaulted. The doctor who’d used the Sexual Assault Forensic Evidence kit and examined Abigail had confirmed that. Abigail would probably suffer emotional damage from her ordeal but at least she hadn’t been physically damaged as well.
“And this bloody weather isn’t helping either,” Dani said. “Any clues we might have found on the moors are probably buried under a foot of snow by now.”
“Probably still worth taking a look, though.”
“Of course it is. But we have to remember that this isn’t our case, no matter how much we might want to solve it. The Derbyshire police are on their way here and when they arrive, we have to hand everything over to them.”
The thought of letting someone else handle this rankled her. She wanted to investigate, needed to find out who had put that fearful look in Abigail’s eyes and make sure they paid. But that wasn’t going to happen. The best she could hope for was that the Derbyshire police asked for assistance in running the Yorkshire end of the investigation. But they might not even do that and could decide to do everything themselves.
She hated inter-force politics.
Still, if it meant catching Abigail’s abductor, she was willing to do anything she could to help.
The sound of voices coming from the nurse’s station up the hall caught her attention. She turned in that direction to see a couple she recognised as Abigail’s parents. She’d seen them on the News pleading for their daughter’s safe return. Miraculously, their wish had been granted and they were about to see Abigail again, alive and well. It was probably more than they ever realistically expected, especially in those moments when they were being pragmatic. This was not how abduction cases usually ended.
Abigail’s parents were accompanied by two female uniformed officers, presumably from Derbyshire. After a brief word with one of the nurses, they were led towards their daughter’s room. Dani and Matt stepped aside and said nothing as the couple walked past them and into the room. This was a time for them to be with Abigail without interruption from outside agencies.
A stocky man with a twee hat and bushy salt and pepper moustache appeared at the nurse’s station, accompanied by a dark-haired woman wearing a blue knitted hat. The nurse they spoke to pointed at Dani and Matt.
The stocky man and dark-haired woman approached the Yorkshire detectives.
“DCI Battle?” Dani asked.
The man nodded and held out his right hand. “DI Summers, I presume.”
“Yes, and this is my colleague, DS Matt Flowers.”
Battle shook their hands and introduced his companion as DS Lorna Morgan.
“How is she doing?” he asked, nodding his head towards Abigail’s room.
“She was traumatised when she came off the moors, but she’s been sedated and she’s sleeping now. According to the doctor, she hasn’t been sexually assaulted. We’ve sent DNA samples to our lab to be analysed. The nightgown she was wearing was covered with blood, but it wasn’t Abigail’s.”
Battle pursed his lips. “Do we know whose it is?”
“Not yet, sir.”
“I like to be a bit more informal with colleagues,” he said, referring to the title by which Dani had addressed him.
“No problem, guv,” she said. “Do you have any plans about how you’re going to progress the investigation now that Abigail’s been found?”
He sighed. “I suppose a search of the moors is in order, but this weather isn’t going to be any help. Could we use some uniforms from your force? It’s going to take a lot of resources.”
“You’d have to speak to my guv’nor. Superintendent Brian Holloway.”
“Thanks. I’ll do that.” He took a small black notepad out of his jacket and made a quick note in it. Then he turned to DS Morgan. “There isn’t much more we can do here at the moment, so I suggest we find somewhere to bed down and start fresh i
n the morning.”
Morgan nodded. “Yes, guv.”
Battle turned back to Dani. “I’ll check in with you tomorrow. Are you headquartered here in Whitby?”
“No, the HQ is at Northallerton. An hour’s drive from here.”
He nodded. “And is that where I’ll find...” He consulted the notepad. “Superintendent Holloway?”
“It is.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” He nodded to Dani and Matt and then turned and left with DS Morgan.
“What do you think?” Matt asked when the two Derbyshire detectives had left the ward.
“I think they’ll do a fine job,” she said. “I just wish we could see this case through.”
He nodded thoughtfully. “Don’t you think DCI Battle looks…I don’t know...familiar?”
Now that Matt mentioned it, she did think she’d seen Battle’s face somewhere before. In the papers, perhaps? “Maybe,” she said.
He was typing something into his phone. “Ah,” he said. “He was involved in the Blackden Edge Murderer case a couple of years ago.”
Dani remembered the case but only vaguely. Something about murders stretching back forty years in a remote part of Derbyshire. She hadn’t paid much attention at the time because she’d been in the process of moving house. Shaun had been gone a couple of years and she and Charlie were making a fresh start. Or running away from the memories that were locked in their old house.
“Two celebrity cops in one place,” Matt mused.
“What are you talking about?”
He shrugged and his eyes fell to the floor. He looked like a schoolboy who’d just sworn in front of his mother and was about to experience the consequences. “Just that you’re famous for catching the Snow Killer and DCI Battle is famous for catching the Blackden Edge Murderer.”
His eyes returned to hers and she held him in a gaze that she hoped would tell him she didn’t want to hear anything like that again.
“Sorry,” he said. “I know you don’t like that kind of talk. About celebrity coppers, I mean.”