Dead Of Winter (Willis/Carter #1)(78)

‘Nor me . . .’ Harding agreed. ‘But the facts are there for us to see.’

Davidson was still trying to take it in. He shook his head, looked around the room, his eyes settled on Harding. ‘Who could live with that . . . saving someone they loved by harvesting another? Plus, logistically?’

‘Logistically it would take enormous organization and insider help,’ answered Harding ‘You’d have to have a way into hospital records to find your matching donors. But it’s not difficult. Someone working in the system now or able to hack into NHS records could do it easily. You ask me? I think it’s not just feasible, it makes perfect sense: people don’t care about the moral side of things any more. If your kid, husband, mother was dying, and they needed a transplant? Are you telling me you wouldn’t consider buying them one? I know I would.’





Chapter 51


Carter watched as Ebony did up her seat belt.

‘You okay, Ebb?’

‘Yes, Sarge. I feel okay . . .’

He looked across at her as he pulled away from the parking space.

‘Spit it out, Ebb. What’s bugging you?’

‘Just that . . . no one’s heard of Shannon before today; she was a nobody who ended up murdered. There was never going to be a Crimewatch story about a girl like Shannon disappearing. Kids run away all the time: normal kids even from good homes, from loving two-parent families . . . Even they run away and are never seen again. What hope has someone like Shannon got and who cares? She’s just one more troubled kid from one more kids’ home.’

‘I understand what you’re saying, Ebb, and yeah . . . you’re right . . . a hundred and fifty thousand kids go missing every year in the UK. Some of them find their way home, some end up in snuff movies. It’s the society we live in; we accept it as normal but it shouldn’t be. Everyone failed Shannon. She was easy prey. But if this is personal with you and you want to talk to me about stuff . . . you go ahead. I’ve been sounding off about Cabrina and the baby but I can listen too . . . try me.’

‘I know you can . . . thank you.’

‘If this is too difficult for you, Ebb . . . you say. No one will think any less of you. This is your first case on the squad. There’ll be plenty more. If you’ve had enough, you say. I’ll take someone else to the kids’ home.’

‘I’m fine, Sarge. It’s not personal.’

They arrived at the home just before lunchtime. Mrs Warrell the manager greeted them.

‘So the kids catch the school bus from here.’ Carter let Ebony take over the questioning whilst he was busy looking at the place: the kids’ rooms had posters on the walls; he remembered the hassle it took to be allowed to put posters up when he was a boy. He had one of Chelsea football team and another of Pamela Anderson from Baywatch in her red bathing suit and with a sort of floating device in her hands. No one seriously ever looked at what was in her hands. Carter had shared the room with two of his brothers, one older, one younger. No privacy to admire Pamela. He had longed for his own room. Now these kids had privacy in this home but they didn’t have their family. Carter couldn’t imagine a world without family, so why was it so hard to think about starting one of his own? Maybe he just wasn’t ready. But would he ever be?

‘Here is where they do their homework.’ Mrs Warrell showed them around on each level. Ebony had gone quiet. She was looking at the locks on all the doors . . . big locks everywhere. That was the bit she never minded. She liked being locked into her room, locked into the building. She knew she was safe.

‘How does any kid manage to run away from a place like this?’ Carter followed Ebony’s gaze to the locks.

‘It was the last day of the term . . . Easter holidays. Shannon just didn’t get on the bus to come back here after school ended. We cannot be with the children twenty-four seven and we try and give them as normal a life as possible.’

‘Of course . . . I can see that. Did Shannon have any hobbies? Did she support any football teams? Did you ever see her wearing an Arsenal top?’

Mrs Warrell shook her head. ‘I never saw her watch or play any sport really. She was a girly girl: a bit too much. We had to confiscate makeup. Her mother sexualized her way too young . . . I expect you know.’

‘She had problems on the last home visit?’

‘Yes, her stepfather hit her. Her mother blamed Shannon, accused her of bringing it on herself – same old story really. We stopped all home visits and we were waiting on the court case when she disappeared.’

‘Did you see any problems leading up to Shannon’s disappearance?’

‘She hadn’t been the same since her stepfather assaulted her. She became withdrawn.’

‘Is there someone she confided in?’ asked Carter.

She shook her head. ‘She floated around at the edges of friendships but never really got close to people.’

‘What about the social worker assigned to Shannon? Can we speak to them?’

‘I’m sorry to say she was killed in a hit and run within days of Shannon disappearing. Someone just mowed her down near her home. The police never really came close to solving it. I guess that’s the problem with being so rural. There are no cameras, no CCTV.’

‘Did Shannon have access to outsiders?’ asked Carter.