Anna wasn’t prepared for the sights that greeted her as she approached Vauxhall.
It looked as though the area had been hit by a meteorite shower. Familiar streets were almost unrecognisable because fire had destroyed so many buildings, while others had been torn apart by looters.
Riot police were still involved in clashes with youths along parts of South Lambeth Road and around Vauxhall station. Fire crews who’d been working through the night were dealing with fresh arson attacks while struggling to ensure that damaged structures were made safe.
Anna heard on the radio that many residents had left their homes during the past forty-eight hours, distressed by events and fearful for their own safety.
She realised that last night this must have been one of the most dangerous places in London. At least three people, including a police officer, were known to have been killed here, and God only knew how many had been injured.
Blood was pounding in Anna’s ears as she turned into her own street. It came as a pleasant surprise when she saw that it hadn’t suffered too much damage. There was a lot of rubbish on the ground, but the houses appeared to be intact and there was no police presence. Several of the residents were out sweeping the pavements and picking up litter, while others were surveying the scene from their front gardens.
As she pulled onto her short driveway, she noticed the words that had been scrawled in red paint on her front door. They ignited a blast of anger inside her.
POLICE BITCH LIVES HERE
In addition to the graffiti on the door an upstairs window had been smashed and the bins had been emptied over the garden.
She remembered what DCS Nash had said about the homes of some police officers and politicians being targeted by the rioters. Whoever had done this must have known that it was the address of a Met detective, but around here it was no secret. She was on first-name terms with some of the neighbours, and those she wasn’t acquainted with had probably been told that she was the woman whose daughter was abducted ten years ago. In fact the media had turned up here in force just a month ago after she and Chloe were reunited.
It seemed inconceivable to Anna that they’d been separated again, this time by the riots. She could only hope and pray that it wouldn’t be for long.
She quickly let herself in and called out Chloe’s name as she rushed from room to room. But her daughter wasn’t there and every room was empty.
In Chloe’s bedroom she found her daughter’s mobile phone, which she had obviously forgotten to take with her when Tom came to pick her up. She checked it and saw all the missed calls.
She told herself to stay calm, to act like a police officer rather than a distraught mother.
She tried to put herself in Chloe’s shoes. How would a twelve-year-old have acted in the situation she found herself in? The man who had come to take care of her was beaten up and carted off in front of her eyes. That would have been terrifying enough. But she would have realised then that she didn’t have a key to get back inside her home. And all this while the street she was on was teeming with gangs of violent rioters.
The first logical step was to check with the closest neighbours. Being a Saturday most of them were in, but none of them had any knowledge of Chloe’s whereabouts. And they hadn’t witnessed the incident the previous evening when Tom was attacked.
Back in the house, Anna tried to control her thoughts, which had begun to run amok. Panic seized her chest, making it hard for her to breathe.
She knew well enough that her options were limited. There was no one to help her find Chloe. London was in the grip of a crisis and those officers who weren’t trying to restore order were investigating an unprecedented spate of serious crimes, including the death of Jacob Rossi in the pub cellar.
Anna was alone. Again. She had not the slightest idea where to begin the search for her daughter. She was tempted to take to the streets with a photo of Chloe. But would that be a waste of time? What if her daughter had been abducted? Or what if she’d wandered into one of the buildings that had been set on fire?
Anna’s mind was raging in all directions now and taking her to ever darker places. She dropped onto a chair in the kitchen and her fingers drummed a nervous beat on the table.
Before long tears were pushing at her eyes, and she felt a scream building at the back of her throat.
Then suddenly her phone rang and she whipped it out of her pocket. The caller ID said Max Walker, and Anna gave a frustrated growl before answering.
‘Ma’am—’ DI Walker began.
‘I’m sorry, Max. I don’t have time for any case updates right now,’ Anna interrupted abruptly. ‘Chloe is still missing, and I don’t have any idea where she could be.’ Normally she would never be so short with one of her officers, but this was no ordinary situation.
‘Actually, ma’am, Chloe is the reason I’m calling. I have news.’