Kelly drove to Keswick on the A66. The 999 call had come through last night, and had been passed to her office first thing this morning. Statements had already been taken by the night shift, and family liaison officers were with the Shaws. Kelly’s involvement was because the girl was a minor. People went missing all the time in the UK, and most of them turned up safe and well within forty-eight hours. But when it was a child, things were slightly different. Especially when she’d gone missing from such a busy event, with thousands of strangers visiting the town.
Kelly was on her way to introduce herself to the family. An investigation would start immediately, but she needed to get a feel for the missing teenager. Was she a runaway? Was she under the influence of drugs or alcohol? Were there problems at home? Had she done it before? Did she have a boyfriend? She was also extremely concerned that this was yet another incident concerning the Derwent Academy.
Preliminaries had painted a picture of a girl not given to rash decisions, with no history of troublemaking and no apparent desire to leave the area. There had been vociferous denials of drug use, but all parents would say that. Last sightings had been at the fair on the same night Kelly had been there sipping glühwein with Johnny. Statements had already been taken from immediate family, neighbours and friends, and work was being started on rounding up as many people as possible at the Derwent Academy. It was a daunting task. There were some eight hundred kids at the school, and then the staff on top of that.
Rob accompanied her. He brought up the Tony Blackman case. Faith Shaw was one of Blackman’s students, and she was also the best friend of Sadie Rawlinson, who’d reported her missing. Rob was asking to be moved from the Blackman case to concentrate on the missing girl instead.
‘Emma could take my place, guv.’
‘So when you say “uncomfortable”, Rob, what exactly do you mean?’ Kelly drove carefully. Piles of snow had been pushed to the edge of the road, and looking at the clouds above, it seemed there was more on the way. Skiddaw sat moodily above them, covered in cloud. Kelly had been up there in rain and shine, and at the top, the chance of freezing fog was legendary. It was like being on the moon in this weather, but people still did it, as well they might: hiking wasn’t something that had a season.
She thought of Johnny. The disappearance of Danny Stanton was still a mountain rescue case, and they were working round the clock to find signs of the guy. Johnny had come in soaked and freezing last night, unable to feel his fingers. They’d been searching Whinlatter Forest and had been out for almost ten hours, finding nothing.
‘She’s very flirtatious.’
Kelly concentrated on the road. He was talking about Sadie Rawlinson, whom she had yet to meet.
‘Towards you?’
He nodded.
‘She’s a tricky one. What did Blackman say about her?’
‘He said she planted the material, and he categorically denies assault or attempted assault. Says she was there to collect poetry.’
‘Likely story. Jesus! What an idiot. What guy in 2018 invites a student to his flat for any reason at all and thinks he won’t get caught out? So do you think she’s playing a game? A witness should know better than to schmooze up to a police detective. It takes a lot to make you squeamish, Rob.’
‘Between me and you, guv …’
‘Of course it’s between me and you.’
‘She seems to be enjoying herself. She smiles at me a lot, and winks. You know the type. But there’s something else about her. She’s dangerous. I just don’t think she’d act the same way with a female.’
‘Really? It’s that bad? What about Will?’
‘He said she doesn’t do it to him. I wouldn’t make a fuss normally, guv. But there are times when I could be alone with her.’
‘Not really; she’s a minor, so she would always need a chaperone, but I guess it could happen. I’ll move you,’ Kelly said. ‘Now tell me, what do you think of Blackman?’
‘Regular guy. There’s no supporting evidence that might explain finding disturbing porn on his computer.’
‘There often isn’t. Sometimes it’s the quiet ones who surprise you. I take it he’s respected at school?’
‘Yes. A very popular member of staff.’
‘And have you gauged the kids’ reactions? Apart from the hilarious Facebook crap, I mean.’
‘Mr Popular, across the board. There’s one member of staff who was especially keen to support him and has given a statement about his character.’
‘Who’s that?’
‘An English teaching colleague called Sarah Peaks.’
‘Let’s catch up with her at some point then,’ Kelly said.
She turned off the A66 and dropped down into the town. Entering Keswick always gave her a sense of calm, despite it being for depressing reasons this time. With snow covering all the roofs, it looked like an advert for log cabin retreats in Canada. Walkers clogged the roads, as they always did, but at this time of year they were the serious kind: older, wiser, better kitted out, and ruddy-looking. They wore sturdy boots and expensive climbing jackets, carried poles and generally meant business. There was an absence of what might be considered the summer trade: families with dogs and kids, clamouring for ice cream and boat trips. The winter visitors were the real deal.
The Shaw family lived on a quiet road on the outskirts of town. Kelly parked outside, turned off the engine and sighed.
Rob looked at her.
‘I hate this bit,’ she said.
‘But you’re amazing at it.’
Kelly was embarrassed; he really didn’t need to dump praise upon her. She did her best in these emotionally charged moments. Most of the time, missing persons in the Lakes were found, and her department never got involved, but she had every right to direct sensitive cases from the inside. It wasn’t London, where a dedicated missing persons team was assigned cases like this. It was northern Cumbria, where there was one team for burglaries, domestics and murders alike, and that was what Kelly loved so much about the job. In London, she’d been a tiny cog, working with thousands of other tiny cogs to make a huge wheel turn, never really knowing if the mechanism was working properly. Here, she was the wheel. She oversaw everything. HQ thought it was time she sat behind a desk, but she fully intended to remain in the middle of things.
The house was pretty standard for the area: a stone and slate terrace, with pretty windows and stunning views of the surrounding northern fells. The air was freezing but fresh and escaped in cloudy geysers from their mouths. They retrieved coats from the boot and put them on. Kelly rubbed her hands. The snow showed no sign of ending; even though it was clear today, more was forecast for tonight.
They walked to the door and Rob rang the doorbell.
An elderly woman answered. ‘Can I help you?’ she said. ‘You look like the police.’
Kelly didn’t react; she was a professional in the art of the poker face. Liar dice was the one game that Johnny couldn’t beat her at.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘We’re here to see Mr and Mrs Shaw. May we come in?’
The woman stood back and nodded. She wore an old-fashioned pinny, and the house smelled of cooking. Kelly assumed that she was a relative or friend performing the tasks that the anxious parents weren’t up to.
‘And you are?’ Kelly asked.
‘I’m Faith’s nan.’ The woman’s face didn’t move as she talked.
Kelly felt her stomach tighten. At least the family had some support; some of them never did, and it was somehow harder to leave them after the statements were written and signed and the door closed. Close-knit families seemed to fare better.
She introduced herself and Rob. The woman nodded and wiped her hands on her pinny, holding one out in greeting. ‘Call me Nanna P.’ She had a solid handshake that smacked of matriarchy.
‘And where do you live, Nanna P?’ Kelly asked.
‘Down the road. Number forty.’
They followed her into the hallway. The house was quiet and Kelly felt the burden of bad news bearing down on her. Rob always seemed to know when to make himself smaller or bigger, depending on the occasion. He looked smaller now, and Nanna P had decided to trust them.
‘In here,’ she said.
Nanna P went in first, and Kelly heard weeping. Inside the room were two members of the liaison team, as well as Mr and Mrs Shaw and a young boy she assumed was Michael, Faith’s brother.
‘More police,’ Nanna P announced.
‘Mr Shaw.’ Kelly held out her hand. ‘Mrs Shaw. May we sit down?’
She surveyed the situation and analysed the parents. If Faith Shaw didn’t turn up soon, and foul play was suspected, then these two would be suspects and she had to get to know them. Both had suffered a tortured night, not knowing where their daughter was, and it had taken its toll. The young boy looked terribly lost.
‘I guess you’re Michael?’ she said. He nodded. He had a gorgeous face, innocent and alive, but the eyes were pleading; they said, ‘I’m scared and I don’t know what to do.’ Adults had enough experience to draw on when faced with shock, but kids hadn’t a clue; they floundered around and sank quickly unless someone stepped in and showed them how to cope. Kelly made a note to talk to the team about him. He should be with relatives or friends. He really shouldn’t be subjected to the parents’ emotional roller coaster.
She turned back to Maggie and Colin Shaw.
‘I know you were expecting me. I wanted to come and introduce myself, and Rob here. It’s important you have faces to put to names. I need to find out everything you can tell me about your daughter: her routine, her friends, her hobbies. I need to figure out a way of piecing together where she’s gone.’
‘I know she’s not coming back. I know it!’ Mrs Shaw broke down and sobbed. ‘We were talking about strangers last night.’ Her head went into her hands and she buried it in her lap. Mr Shaw looked panicked and went to help his wife, but clearly he had no idea what to do. This was the bit that got out of hand very quickly if not handled properly.
‘I’ll give you a moment,’ Kelly said. She nodded to the liaison officer in charge and indicated that she wanted to talk. They went into the hallway and closed the door behind them.
‘Why’s the boy still here?’
‘He insisted. He seems a savvy lad. Blames himself partly, because Faith was so stressed out about him causing a fuss and going off on his own. He reckons she’d be all right if he hadn’t upset her.’
‘Is this standard for the mother?’ Kelly referred to Maggie Shaw’s mini breakdown. In under five minutes, she had sussed out Faith’s immediate family, and she was quickly realising that Michael might be the one to rely on. Youth still held onto a sense of hope in the direst of moments, she thought. Only moments ago, she’d assumed Michael to be cocooned in fear, but underneath Michael’s self-imposed duty to stand by his parents, she could see that he had a core of steel, which could come in very handy indeed.
‘Yes. She’s handling it very badly; pretty standard stuff for a mum, really.’
‘What about Dad?’
‘He blames himself, and her mates.’
‘Interesting. Why?’
‘They’re lowlifes, allegedly.’
‘In his opinion?’
‘Michael agrees.’
‘Really? Tell me more.’
As they stood in the corridor whispering, they could still hear Mrs Shaw sobbing and the low tones of the other liaison officer trying to soothe her.
‘The family only moved here five years ago, and Faith’s life was hell for a while. She was bullied by the gang that she now calls friends. Supposed to be water under the bridge, but neither Mum nor brother trusts them.’
‘Bullied?’
‘That’s what the parents said.’
Kelly’s brow knitted. ‘Sadie Rawlinson included?’
The officer nodded.
‘The brother’s a smart cookie. Can I talk to him?’ Kelly asked.
‘Sure, I’ll go and get him.’
They went back in. The officer told Michael that the detective would like a word, and suggested going upstairs for some peace and quiet. ‘Maybe you could show her Faith’s bedroom?’
Kelly shot Rob a look: he understood that he was expected to stay and smooth the edges, as well as taking notes.
Michael looked up and nodded. ‘Sure.’ He headed for the stairs; Kelly followed, accompanied by the liaison officer.
‘You’re being very brave, Michael. You seem older than twelve. I gather you’re off school at the moment.’ She eased in.
‘I’m going in tomorrow,’ he said.
‘Really?’
Michael nodded. ‘I can’t stand all the crying. No one’s going to find Faith by sitting around.’
Kelly nodded. ‘You’re right.’
He led her to Faith’s room, with the other officer as a chaperone; it was standard procedure when dealing with a minor. The room was what she envisaged for any teenage girl, and she thought of Johnny’s daughter, who was the same age. Josie demanded twinkly lights and accessories worthy of Pinterest, and changed her mind monthly. Faith’s room was a mixture of greys and creams, with fluffy cushions, the obligatory fairy lights, and framed photos of friends and family. Kelly asked Michael to tell her about the photos and the people in them. He named them all, adding a little background each time, a detail that touched Kelly immensely.
‘Did you fall out, Michael?’ She smiled warmly, indicating that it was all right to admit negative things about somebody who was missing. He nodded.
‘Not really, I got into a fight and she was angry with me until I told her it wasn’t my fault. I hate being treated like a baby. She was with Luke Miles when they found me; he’s friends with Justin, who looked after me.’
‘How did he look after you?’
‘He stayed with me until Luke and Faith came, with Sadie, and the four of them went off together.’
‘Can you remember the time?’
‘I guess it was nearly time for Dad to collect us, so about 9 o’clock.’
‘Do you mind if I write these names down? My memory isn’t that great.’ Kelly found a pad and pencil and Michael nodded.
‘But you’re a detective. You have to have a good memory, don’t you?’
‘You’re absolutely right, Michael, and my memory is spot on for faces and what happens when, but when it comes to loads and loads of names, I need to write them down.’
‘Hmm, I would too. I’m good at history dates. I think it’s like being a detective because we had to work out if Guy Fawkes was guilty or not. Test me.’
‘OK … What year was the Gunpowder Plot?’
‘Sixteen oh five.’
‘Impressive. I have no idea if you’re right, but I’ll take your word for it. And do you think Guy Fawkes was fairly treated?’
Michael thought. ‘He shouldn’t have tried to kill the politicians, but I can understand why he did it. The Catholics were tortured and executed, so it’s no wonder really, is it?’
‘Well that’s admirable, but detectives don’t work out if a crime is moral; just if one has occurred and who did it. To decide what’s right and what’s wrong, you’d need to be a judge.’
‘But I don’t like their wigs.’
‘That’s a dilemma.’
‘Doesn’t it mean anything, then, if you understand why someone has done something, even if it’s illegal?’ he asked.
‘Do you know someone who has?’
‘No.’ It was said quickly.
Kelly sat on Faith’s bed. Michael continued to tell her about his sister and the fact that she didn’t like being told what to do; about how their dad had told her not to wear the short top, but when he saw her at the fair, she had it on. She reckoned he would make a good detective indeed.
‘That’s tricky,’ she said. ‘Do you think Faith had had enough and ran away?’
‘No. She hates being cold, and she didn’t take much make-up. She’s also got a thing for Luke Miles.’