CHAPTER THIRTEEN

 

Kate was just hanging up the phone when Jon entered her office. She yawned and said, ‘That was Gary. Toni has calmed down considerably, and when her parents went for a coffee, they had a bit of a natter, as he put it.’

Jon smiled to himself and felt glad they’d chanced upon PC Pritchard. ‘And?’

‘Toni remembers Emily. She does exist. They’d never met prior to that night, and because of the drink and the drugs, her description of the girl was scanty. Long, dark hair and beautiful eyes was the best she could do, but she believes that Emily was taken away because of her birth date. Apparently, the man who was getting physical with them got very excited when he heard Emily’s date of birth, and it was not long after that that the girl was dragged away. After that, Toni only has vague memories of being manhandled into a car, then being dumped miles from anywhere.’

‘Well at least we know we’re not chasing shadows.’

‘That we do. And the uniforms are there with Toni now. Gary’s going to hitch a lift home to Harlan Marsh with a mate of his who is a porter in A&E. He said he’ll stay with Toni until his friend’s shift finishes.’ Kate leaned back in her chair and Jon saw tiredness darkening her eyes. ‘The main thing is that we now know that Emily is real. And it looks like she’s been abducted.’

A shiver rippled across Jon’s shoulder blades. When you’d seen the very worst that supposedly civilised men and women were capable of, it was almost impossible to stop your imagination taking hold.

Kate stood up. ‘I know it goes against the grain to walk out when there is a girl missing, but we have uniform both on the streets and checking out any ‘old and creepy properties’, as Toni put it. We have officers keeping watch over Toni..,’ She threw Jon a half-hearted smile. ‘…I really don’t think we can do any more tonight. Let’s go home to our beds and start afresh in the morning.’

Jon nodded. She was right. They were going to need to keep their wits about them, and you couldn’t do that without sleep. Plus he needed some quiet time to try to get his head around that weird singing he had picked up on when talking to Toni Clarkson. It was bothering him, and he couldn’t lose the idea that it was in some way vaguely familiar. When he got home, maybe he’d try a meditation. Totally relaxed, what ever it was that was lurking in the dark recesses of his mind might just show itself. Jon gave a little shiver, and hoped that whatever it was, it wouldn’t be too dark.

 

Asher Leyton pushed back his office chair and stretched. He had intended to work on for an hour or two, but he was having trouble concentrating. He kept seeing the face of the kid on Brewer Street. And now she was dead, and it was bothering him deeply.

He picked up his Parker Duofold pen from the polished desk, tucked it safely into the inside pocket of his jacket and stood up. He should go home. It would be nice to surprise Lynda. Maybe he’d take her to supper at Lorenzo’s. She’d like that. She liked the finer things in life. And he knew that was why she had got engaged to him. Why she had allowed their living together, even though they were not married.

Because Asher Leyton was a perfect gentleman and her knight in shining armour. He did things properly. He did things the way she believed they ought to be done; honourably and with old world decorum.

Asher closed his eyes and groaned. And it was killing him. He had needs, and right now they were threatening to overpower him, to drown him.

He adored Lynda. Worshipped her, and most of all, he wanted her. But he knew her very well, and the only way he could keep her close, was to respect her Victorian puritanical wishes, no matter how painful they were to him.

With another deeper groan, he drew his wallet from his desk drawer and checked its contents. With a satisfied little grunt, he pushed the leather purse in with the pen and made for the door.

Oh yes, he’d take Lynda to supper, he’d buy her champagne and then he’d escort her home in the most moral and virtuous manner, but before he did, in fact before he even saw her again, saw that flawless porcelain skin and that shimmering soft hair, he would have to keep another appointment.

With someone who expected nothing of the kind.