The Taken Girls: An absolutely gripping crime thriller full of mystery and suspense. G Sanders D

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СКАЧАТЬ with Chief Superintendent Addler at 16.00.’

      ‘Sergeant Barry Williams, Ma’am,’ the Sergeant introduced himself. ‘You’d best wait in Interview Room 2.’ He nodded his head to her left. ‘On the right down the corridor. I’ll ring you when the Super’s ready.’

      Walking in the direction Williams had indicated, she imagined he was already on the phone to a colleague. ‘That Edina Ogborne’s just arrived. She looks a damn sight fitter than in the photograph we downloaded.’ Too true. While waiting for her transfer, she’d doubled the time spent working out. Twenty-seven and five-six in her trainers, she was now a toned nine stone.

      The windowless Interview Room was newer and cleaner but its essentials were a carbon copy of those she was used to in London. Ed resisted checking her appearance in the one-way mirror. Expecting a short wait, she pulled out a chair and sat facing the wall-mounted telephone by the door. A transfer to the provinces hadn’t been her idea but she was ambitious and her boss, Chief Superintendent Shawcross, had made it crystal: there would be no early prospect of promotion at the Met.

      Twenty minutes earlier, she’d been en route from London with the roof down, the wind in her cropped black hair flashing natural blue glints for no one to see. At the turning for Canterbury the trip meter showed she was 50 miles from her home in Brixton. As she approached the outskirts of the city, Ed caught her first sight of the cathedral with its twin west towers dazzling in the summer sunshine and the meter clicked to 60, adding another ten miles to her sense of separation.

      With an eye for maps and a good memory she had no difficulty finding the Police Station. The dash display read ten to four. Good timing was another of her strengths. Patience was not. Waiting in Interview Room 2, Ed glanced at her watch. It was 35 minutes since she’d entered the building. She resisted a growing urge to confront the Desk Sergeant. After what had happened in London she could have done with a friendly welcome but, given the manner of her transfer, a hostile reception was always on the cards. Knowing her arrival was bound to ruffle feathers she’d vowed to play it by the book. A further ten minutes passed before the telephone rang.

      ‘DS Ogborne? The Super sends her apologies. Her previous meeting overran. Now she’s been unexpectedly called away. She’ll see you tomorrow at 08.00.’

      Provincial ineptitude or was she being given the run-around? Biting back her fury, Ed managed to say, ‘Thank you, Sergeant,’ before adding, ‘by the way, it’s DI Ogborne.’

      ‘As you say, Ma’am.’

      Determined to remain cool, Ed called, ‘G’bye Sergeant,’ as she passed the desk on her way out of the building. If Williams responded before the door closed behind her, she didn’t hear him.

      Ed slotted her car into a reserved space, checked in, and went straight to her room at the ABode hotel. She still thought of it as The County from years ago when she’d stayed with her grandfather. The name change, with its implication of mergers and takeovers, reminded her of the way she’d been shunted from the Met.

      The rumours were that it had come to a head the previous November. Later, when she was told her fate, Ed realized the gossip had been right: the boys’ club had closed ranks. She could imagine a coarse instruction coming down from someone among the top brass: ‘Get her wetting her knickers worrying about disciplinary sanctions, possible demotion, even dismissal. Leave her to stew, then sweeten the transfer with a promotion. Get her onside and bloody grateful to move.’

      Ed hadn’t been grateful to move but she was onside and she intended to stay onside. Transfer out of the Met would happen; it wasn’t an option. If she wanted a career in the Force she would have to toe the line. Ed was ambitious. One day she’d be in a position to change things. The sense of injustice was no longer sharp but the issue still rankled and she was troubled by the feeling that leaving London would increase her loss. This made no sense but she’d lived her entire life in London and it was there where they had been together briefly before her son was taken from her.

      The decision had been made in the past, but a nagging sense of guilt remained. Had she acted in his best interests or her own? Had she abandoned him? Ed had become adept at brushing those thoughts aside, but they frequently returned. The move from London wouldn’t increase their separation but somehow the logic she applied as a detective didn’t always work in her private life. As a detective she was focused and methodical. In private she could be impetuous but, like Piaf, she steadfastly refused to regret her choices.

      This time it hadn’t been her choice but, as she saw it, her career in the Met had been put on hold. She was hurt, but she would be professional and make the most of her opportunities in the provinces. Ed rejected the idea that it was a fresh start, regarding her move to Canterbury as a brief hiatus, a chance to broaden her experience and expand her CV. Her new posting would begin on Monday. Until then, apart from her postponed meeting with Chief Superintendent Addler, her time was her own and she intended to cosset herself.

      Ed dialled room service and then the hotel restaurant to reserve a table for dinner. With a sandwich and half a bottle of wine, she sat at her laptop looking for somewhere to live. The income from the house in London and her increased salary meant she could afford somewhere decent, central and with a garage for her new car. A couple of hours on the internet passed rapidly. Calculating that her meeting tomorrow morning with Addler wouldn’t last longer than an hour, she made three appointments for viewings in the afternoon. Now she could relax. Ed ran a bath and thoughts of work were banished by the warmth which enveloped her body. Later, she selected clothes for the evening: a grey silk top and a bias-cut skirt. You never knew who you might meet when dining alone.

       2

      Parked at the far end of Hollowmede, he watched Lucy leave her home and walk past the junction with Elham Road. Certain she was taking the footpath to Debbie’s, he drove round the block to check she entered her friend’s house. Thirty minutes later, the two girls were still inside and he was confident they were there for the evening. It would be two hours before Lucy left to walk home, plenty of time to swap his car for the van, eat and return to wait.

      It was ten years since he had taken Teresa. She’d been the first and, he’d thought at the time, the last but he’d been thwarted; her parents had been clever. Teresa and her mother had gone abroad for a year. On their return, his baby daughter was with them. He’d thought he would care for her from afar but soon after their return there was a For Sale sign by the lamps at the entry to the Mulhollands’ home. The house was deserted. The family had disappeared and he’d been unable to trace them. After six years he’d changed. He wanted a son. He’d chosen Kimberley from a different social class but yet again he hadn’t been prepared for what happened, and it was four more years before he had the confidence to try again.

      In retrospect, he realized the mistake he’d made moving from Teresa to Kimberley. Choosing from a different social class was good; overlooking the lack of religion had been bad. Kimberley had shown no scruples when she discovered she was pregnant. He’d resolved to do better next time but finding a churchgoing young woman proved difficult. Then he had a stroke of good fortune. By chance, he’d discovered that Lucy Naylor had a strong interest in religion. She didn’t attend church, but the more he observed her, the more he was convinced she’d be a good mother for his child.

      Lucy would be the third, but now he was beginning to think she wouldn’t be the last. He had no fear of being caught. There were two risks. Lucy might not follow her usual route home or there could be people on the street when she did. If so he would terminate the mission. Termination would be a minor setback. The mission was his life’s work. There would be other opportunities. СКАЧАТЬ