47

Within hours, DNA evidence found at Ella’s flat had been confirmed as a match for Daisy. They knew who had taken Jessica’s baby, but now Ella had vanished.

‘It can’t be that easy for a woman to disappear with a baby,’ a constable said.

Several other officers agreed.

‘Assuming she still has Daisy with her,’ Geraldine muttered, voicing everyone’s worst fear.

Panicking and alone, Ella might have realised the game was up. On her own she might be able to avoid attention, but with a young baby to care for wherever she went, her chances of escaping detection were slim. Clearly she was deranged to have kidnapped a baby in the first place, which meant her plans might be erratic at best, and certainly unpredictable. If she had decided to ditch Daisy, after leaving her flat off Holgate Street, there was no way of knowing what she might have done with the baby. The outlook for Daisy was not looking positive, and the longer Ella remained at large, the more of a danger she was going to pose, whether to Daisy, or to anyone else, including possibly any other baby she chanced to come across. At the risk of causing widespread panic, Eileen decided to give a statement to the media. It was a tricky subject, and Geraldine was concerned about what the detective chief inspector was planning to say, and how sensibly the media would report the story. Lurid headlines of a baby snatcher would not help the investigation.

That evening Geraldine and Ian watched the local news headlines at home. The first item involved a fight outside a pub where two drunken youths had ended up in hospital. That was followed by a brief mention of David Armstrong, whose death was considered newsworthy since he had been a public figure of some standing. After that, a photograph of Ella appeared on the screen.

‘Police are looking for a young mother who might be in trouble and in urgent need of medical assistance,’ the presenter said evenly. ‘She goes by the name of Ella, although she may be using a false identity, and she is believed to be travelling with a baby. If anyone knows where she is, please contact your local police station without delay, or call the number displayed on the screen.’

It was a neat way of asking for information, without focusing on the missing baby at the heart of the investigation. There was no point in mentioning Daisy by name. Ella was probably using a false name for herself and Daisy, if she still had her.

Geraldine would have liked to work on finding Daisy. Even though a murderer – possibly two – could be on the loose, the missing baby seemed more urgent a case. But there was not much she could do. A massive hunt was now under way, with numerous officers drafted in from surrounding forces to help with the door-to-door questioning, the search of the area surrounding Ella’s lodgings, and the scrutiny of hours and hours of closed circuit television film from local stations and bus stops. So far no positive sighting had been made, but the search was not going to be called off until every inch of the vicinity had been explored.

Meanwhile, Geraldine was sent to speak to the Armstrongs’ doctor. The surgery was not far from the police station. It was a lovely day, and she would have liked to walk there, but she couldn’t afford to spend the time so unproductively. She arrived at the surgery and went straight up to the reception desk, where a couple of people were waiting.

‘Hey, there’s a queue,’ a disgruntled patient called out.

Without acknowledging the complainant, Geraldine held up her identity card to the receptionist and asked to speak to the relevant doctor.

‘Do you have an appointment?’ the young woman behind the desk replied.

Geraldine sighed. When she had first been promoted to the rank of detective inspector, she had quite enjoyed parading her position. These days it just felt dreary. She wasn’t sure if that change was due to the response she received from the public, who seemed increasingly hostile towards the police, or if it was because she herself had become less excited about her role since her demotion. Probably it was a combination of the two. Now she held up her identity card again, right in front of the receptionist’s eyes.

‘Kindly take your eyes off your screen for a second and look at this, and then I’d like to speak to Dr Merrill as soon as his current appointment finishes.’

The receptionist frowned and began to trot out her practised response. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to wait your turn –’

‘Listen,’ Geraldine said quietly, ‘I don’t want to have to charge you with wasting police time and obstructing the course of an investigation into a serious crime, but I should warn you that’s the way this conversation seems to be heading.’

The receptionist glared at her. ‘I’ll call the practice manager,’ she said. ‘Please take a seat.’

‘So you’re still asking me to wait? Listen, I need to speak to Dr Merrill as soon as possible, and neither you nor your practice manager is going to cause me any further delay. As soon as the patient who is with him right now leaves his consulting room, I want to speak to him.’

‘I’m calling the police,’ someone shouted out.

Geraldine turned round. ‘Yes, please do that,’ she replied loudly, holding up her identity card. ‘And please tell them that I need the nearest patrol car here right away, so that two uniformed constables can close the surgery until we’ve finished our enquiry.’ She turned back to the receptionist. ‘Or you can tell Dr Merrill I’d like to speak to him right away. It’s up to you.’

An older woman came bustling out of a door behind the reception desk.

‘What seems to be the trouble?’ she asked.

Once again, Geraldine held up her identity card and lowered her voice. ‘I need to speak to Dr Merrill, and your receptionist seems to think it’s your practice policy to obstruct the police in conducting an enquiry into a serious crime.’ She flipped open her phone. ‘You have my location. I need a couple of uniformed officers to help me out here with a situation, and we’ll need to charge a couple of ladies with obstruction –’

‘No, no, wait!’ the practice manager cried out in alarm. ‘There’s no need for any of that. Of course you can see the doctor right away. This way, please. And please, cancel that request. This is all a misunderstanding.’ She turned and glared at the receptionist.

Muttering ‘Cancel that’ into her unconnected phone, Geraldine followed the manager along the corridor to a consulting room. As soon as a patient emerged, the manager ushered Geraldine into the room.

‘This is a detective sergeant,’ the woman said, anxious to smooth over the disagreement. ‘She would like to ask you a few questions.’

‘Are you a patient?’ the doctor asked.

‘I’m here in a professional capacity.’ Geraldine turned to the manager. ‘I’d like to speak to the doctor alone.’

Mumbling under her breath, the manager left.

‘I’m part of the team investigating the death of a patient of yours, David Armstrong,’ Geraldine explained.

‘Oh yes, of course. Please, take a seat. How can I help you, although I have to tell you I’ve already been questioned at length and have nothing further to add to what I’ve already said.’

‘I appreciate you have patients waiting and won’t take up much of your time,’ Geraldine said as she sat down. ‘What we need to know is: did you recently prescribe any drugs containing cetirizine to David or Anne Armstrong?’

The doctor frowned. ‘Cetirizine can be purchased over the counter for allergy relief,’ he replied. ‘It’s not necessary to have a prescription.’

He turned and consulted his computer. After a moment he turned back to Geraldine, frowning.

‘Thirteen years ago, David Armstrong was admitted to hospital suffering a severe reaction to a drug containing cetirizine. It’s unusual to experience such a severe reaction, but by no means unheard of. He had somehow contrived to take an overdose, as a result of which he was no longer able to tolerate it in any significant quantity.’

Geraldine drew in a deep breath. ‘And his wife would have been aware of that?’

‘Well, he was admitted to hospital,’ the doctor replied gravely. ‘Of course, you may not be at liberty to share the implications of this with me, but if there’s anything else I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask.’

Thanking him, and with his assurance that he would not mention the subject of their discussion to anyone, Geraldine left. She was aware of the receptionist glaring balefully at her as she passed the desk, but she was too busy on her phone to react.