7

Geraldine was interrupted in her work by her phone ringing. She didn’t recognise the number.

‘It’s me, Jessica,’ the voice babbled. ‘I need to see you right away.’

‘Would you like to come to the police station –’ Geraldine began, but Jessica interrupted her.

‘No, no, this can’t wait. You have to come here. You left me your card and said I could call you at any time. Please. You need to come here and see this for yourself.’

Anne had described her daughter as highly strung and emotional, and had mentioned that Jessica had been particularly vulnerable after the birth of her baby. All the same, Geraldine took the call seriously and drove straight to Jessica’s house. She wished that Jessica had not flatly rejected the appointment of a family liaison officer to support her through this difficult time. She seemed to suspect the officer would not only be tasked with helping her, but would also be reporting back on her conduct.

Jessica opened the door at once, as though she had been standing right beside it, waiting for the bell to ring. Her blonde hair was scraped back in a pony tail, looking greasy and uncombed, and she was wearing no make-up. Although her cheeks were pale and her blue eyes bloodshot, the elegant bone structure of her gaunt face was perfectly proportioned.

‘You called me,’ Geraldine reminded her gently, when Jessica stood staring at her like a rabbit caught in headlights.

‘Yes, yes, I know. I did. I did. Come in, please, come in. You have to find her before it’s too late.’

Geraldine went inside and closed the front door. Jessica appeared to be raving, but it was understandable that a woman prone to hysteria might become temporarily unhinged by the shock of her baby going missing.

‘Jessica,’ Geraldine began, ‘we’re doing everything we can to find Daisy. I think it might help you to see your doctor and ask him to prescribe something to help you cope while you’re waiting. It must seem interminable, but we will find her –’ she hesitated to add, ‘if that’s possible.’

Jessica shook her head vehemently. ‘No, no, you don’t understand. This is different. There’s something I have to show you.’

Grabbing Geraldine by the arm, she dragged her towards the stairs. For a second Geraldine resisted, wondering what Jessica wanted with her. She regretted not having summoned backup, even though there was nothing as yet to indicate she might require help.

‘Come on, you have to see this,’ Jessica insisted, her eyes blazing with despair.

Geraldine nodded and followed her up the stairs into a nursery. The walls were covered in pale pink paper where pink rabbits cavorted, amidst a sprinkling of tiny pink flowers. Matching curtains hung at the window. A white cot stood in the centre of the room beneath a brightly coloured mobile. For an instant, Geraldine felt a fleeting hope that she might see a small baby sleeping peacefully in the cot, and discover that the disappearance had only ever existed in Jessica’s febrile imagination.

Jessica pointed at the cot and gestured frantically to Geraldine to look inside it. With a frown, Geraldine stepped forward to peer at a few red dots right at the edge of the pale pink sheet. She bent down to examine the sheet more closely. She had not been mistaken. The red marks were there, and they looked as though they might be bloodstains.

‘I was just changing the sheet – I came in here to make sure it was all tidy for her –’ Jessica stammered.

‘Please, don’t touch anything in here,’ Geraldine said, taking Jessica by the elbow and ushering her firmly out of the room. ‘Go downstairs and wait for me outside. I need to make a call.’

Eileen had said there was no evidence of a crime having been committed. With a sickening feeling, Geraldine hoped she had not just seen something to prove Eileen wrong. Gently Geraldine told Jessica that while the house was being treated as a crime scene, she would have to leave.

‘Can you stay with your mother?’

Jessica looked stunned. ‘But – I don’t understand. What do you mean? I’ve just made a pot of tea.’

Carefully Geraldine explained that the marks on Daisy’s sheet would have to be forensically examined. In the unlikely event that they turned out to be bloodstains, then the whole house would be searched for fingerprints and the DNA of any intruder.

‘We have to act fast,’ Geraldine said. ‘If a stranger did somehow gain access to your house and take the baby, then the quicker we trace his or her identity, the sooner Daisy will be returned home. Now, I need you to come with me to the police station.’

‘The police station? Why? You just said I could go to my mother’s.’

‘Yes, but first we need you to give us as many details as you can of anyone who has been in or around your house since Daisy was born. Anyone at all.’

Jessica nodded. She was trembling and pale, and she scarcely seemed to understand what was happening.

‘Is it blood?’ she whispered. ‘Is it…’

‘It may well turn out that the marks on Daisy’s sheet are not blood at all,’ Geraldine added, in as reassuring a tone as she could muster. ‘Someone might have been eating, and dropped a few drops of food or drink on the sheet. But we have to be sure.’

‘Yes,’ Jessica repeated dully, as though the words held no meaning, ‘we have to be sure.’

Bursting into tears, she allowed Geraldine to guide her into a police car that had just drawn up. Geraldine watched thoughtfully as Jessica was driven away. As if the disappearance of a baby wasn’t dreadful enough, the investigation had just taken an alarming turn. With a sigh, she watched as the search team arrived. Pulling on plastic overshoes and a white protective suit, she went back in the house, keen to learn what they could discover.

‘It looks like a chaotic household,’ a scene of crime officer told her. ‘Apart from the nursery, which is beautifully kept, the whole place is a mess. Clothes, toiletries, toys, nappies, food, everywhere.’

Geraldine left shortly after. Nothing more could be determined until the search was concluded, and results of forensic tests on the bloodstains had been received. Walking slowly to her own car, she wondered whether they should have discovered the blood spots earlier. It was going to be a long day and there was still no sign of Jason. Jessica had told them he had gone to a stag do, yet none of his friends they had been able to trace knew anything about it. A marriage where the husband lied to his wife about his whereabouts for the weekend, and then ditched his phone, did not sound normal. Either Jason had wanted to mislead his wife, or the beautiful fragile Jessica was deliberately lying to the police. Whatever the truth might be, the motive for concealing it could only be malevolent.