Close to Home (DI Adam Fawley #1)(20)

He seems to have no idea of the implications of what he’s saying.

‘So,’ I say, ‘you never actually saw your daughter or heard her voice?’

He flushes. ‘Well, no. At least I don’t think so. I think she called out but I can’t be sure.’

‘Which means your last sighting of her would have been at breakfast that morning? No contact after that?’

Clearly not. Now, finally, he looks shaken.

‘None of this makes any sense,’ he says at last. ‘Where is she?’

‘That, Mr Mason, is what we’re trying to find out.’





* * *



—

Out in the corridor again, I tell Quinn to check out the Watlington story. ‘Shouldn’t be too difficult to verify he really was where he says he was. I know I’m biased when it comes to the tossers in his profession, but I don’t believe a bloody word that bloke says.’

Quinn makes a face and I can’t really blame him; he’s probably had enough of my builder stories. The sink in that bloody extension still drips.

‘Right, boss. And shall I get Mrs Mason?’

‘She can wait a few more minutes. I’m going to have a fag.’

*

5 July 2016, 4.36 p.m.

Two weeks before the disappearance

The Connor house, 54 Barge Close, first-floor landing

Millie Connor and Daisy Mason are playing with Millie’s soft toys. Daisy has the look of a child who’s been let into the secret about Santa Claus but told not to spoil it for the little ones. Millie, by contrast, is deep into an immensely complex made-up story involving Angelina Ballerina, Peppa Pig and a one-eyed teddy bear. Every now and then Daisy makes a suggestion, then sits back and watches what Millie does. She smiles to herself every time this happens, whether her ideas are incorporated into the story or not, as if that doesn’t really matter. A moment later there’s the sound of a key in the door and after a couple of false starts Julia Connor eventually pushes the front door open and dumps three large carrier bags on the floor. Her face is red and her hair wet. She’s wearing gym gear.

‘Millie!’ she calls. ‘Are you home? Do you want some juice?’

Millie puts her head round the banisters. ‘No thank you. I’m just up here on my own playing.’

‘Is your brother not back yet, then?’

Millie shrugs. ‘He said he was going to play football after school.’

Julia Connor smiles. ‘I remember now. That team from High Wycombe, wasn’t it? Let’s hope he wins. Otherwise he’ll be even more bad-tempered than usual, playing in the rain.’

She picks up the bags again and takes them through to the kitchen, where she turns on the radio and starts unpacking the shopping.

It must be at least half an hour later that the front doorbell rings. The two little girls start and exchange a glance, then Daisy edges back further out of sight and Millie creeps forward to where she can see down the stairs. There’s a figure shadowed against the frosted glass. Julia Connor comes through from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a tea towel.

‘Oh, it’s you,’ she says as the door opens. ‘Must be ages since we last – ’

‘I’m so sorry to trouble you, Mrs Connor – ’

‘Oh, Julia, please – you make me sound like my mother-in-law.’

‘This is so embarrassing, but have you by any chance seen Daisy? She was supposed to be home by four o’clock sharp and she’s still not back, and it’ll be getting dark soon. Her father will be so worried.’

Julia is a picture of concern. ‘Oh dear, how awful. But I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. She probably just stopped off at a friend’s on the way home and lost track of the time. Have you tried calling round?’

Sharon Mason flutters her hands, seemingly in despair. ‘I never seem to know who her friends are these days, never mind have their numbers. I can’t remember the last time she brought someone home. You were the only person I could think of.’

Julia reaches out and touches her hand. ‘Let me ask Millie for you – she might know.’

Millie looks up at the sound of her name but Daisy immediately grips her arm and puts her finger to her lips. Then she shakes her head slowly, her eyes all the while intent on Millie’s face.

‘Are you still up there, Millie?’ calls her mother. ‘Did you see Daisy after school today?’

Millie stands up and goes to the head of the stairs, where the two women can see her. ‘No, Mummy. I don’t know where she is.’

Julia turns to Sharon with an apologetic look. ‘I’m so sorry, I really don’t know what to suggest. Perhaps you can give me your number and I can call you if I hear anything? And such a shame about your evening out too.’

Sharon frowns. ‘What evening out?’

Julia flushes. ‘Well, the handbag – the shoes. I just thought you must be going out. Sorry – I didn’t mean anything by it.’

‘Of course I’m not going out. My little girl is missing.’

Julia opens her mouth, then fails to find anything to say. But she dutifully writes down Sharon’s number before watching her step carefully down the uneven gravelled drive and back down the close. Then she shuts the door again and returns to the kitchen. Upstairs on the landing, Millie turns to Daisy. ‘You’re going to be in awful trouble.’