Seven Days(57)

Eight Years Earlier: Thursday, 1 July 2010


1


Detective Inspector Wynne did not drink much. She was aware of the cliché of the troubled, alcoholic detective, and she was also aware that, like most clichés, it was a cliché because it was, in part, true. She’d known plenty of detectives who had no problem with alcohol, but also she’d known plenty that did, and she had no intention of following in their footsteps.

Still, she could see why you would. Sometimes it would make life easier.

Make it easier to forget the girl who was still missing. Anna Crowne, five years old, taken from outside her school. Gone. Her parents were distraught, obviously, but Wynne had no answers. They had no idea where the girl was. It reminded her of the last time this had happened.

It wasn’t the only thing that day that reminded her of Maggie. A letter had come that morning, posted the day before in Wigan.

DEAR DETECTIVE INSPECTOR WYNNE:

JUST ABOUT FOUR YEARS NOW. I MEANT TO POST THIS NEARER THE ANNIVERSARY, BUT I DECIDED THERE WAS A MORE IMPORTANT DAY FOR ME TO RECOGNIZE. THE FIRST OF JULY – THE DAY YOU WILL RECEIVE THIS – IS A BIG DAY FOR ME. FOR US.

I SEE YOU HAVE ANOTHER MISSING PERSON ON YOUR BEAT. GETTING A LITTLE CARELESS, AREN’T YOU?

ANYWAY, HERE’S TO ANOTHER YEAR! I’LL RAISE A GLASS TONIGHT.

YOURS SINCERELY,

???

It was the fourth letter. There had been one every year, all posted from different locations, except for the third year. Wynne didn’t know why the kidnapper had missed a year. She did know there was no forensic evidence on any of them.

And she knew she hated them. Hated the prim little colon after her name. Hated the ‘here’s to another year’. Hated the formal ‘yours sincerely’ and hated the stupid question marks.

Most of all she hated the feeling of powerlessness. She was losing this game and there was nothing she could do about it.

And what did he mean, the first of July was an important day? For us? Who was us? Maggie?

She was being toyed with, and she hated it.

Then she saw him. The one person guaranteed to make her day worse.

Best. Standing in front of the freezer cabinet, putting a box of fish fingers into his basket. Two boxes. That was a lot of fish fingers for a single man, but then again, they were frozen. They didn’t go off.

Funny to see him, this day of all days. He’d been a suspect for a while when Maggie Cooper had gone, although there was never any evidence against him. Not that the lack of evidence had made Wynne any less certain he was involved.

She’d got carried away back then because she didn’t like him, and as she looked at him those feelings came flooding back. She walked down the aisle towards him.

‘Mr Best,’ she said.

He looked up, startled. ‘Yes? Who? – Oh. You.’ His eyes narrowed. There was real dislike in his expression.

She pointed at the fish fingers, remembered seeing him eating them at his house. ‘Shopping?’

‘Yes. As I am allowed to do.’

‘Of course. I’ll be on my way. Enjoy your meal.’

He smiled at her. For a second there was something sly, something secret in his smile, then it vanished.

‘You too, Detective Inspector Wynne.’

She chose her pizza and walked towards the checkout. She had a feeling there was something she should have noticed, something unusual.

It came to her as she paid.

He remembered her name. Rank and name. Surely that was something he would have forgotten by now?

But no.

Clearly, Best had a good memory.

Why did that disturb her? What was it she was missing?

She couldn’t find an answer. On her way home she stopped at the off-licence and picked up a bottle of red wine.

Then she picked up another. One wasn’t going to be enough.





Eight Years Earlier: Thursday, 1 July 2010


1


She heard the scraping sound. She took a deep breath. Seb’s third birthday was coming up. She wasn’t sure of the exact date – there were some gaps in the calendar – but it was close and she wanted to celebrate it. He didn’t have any of the things he should have had. No presents, no party with his friends, no cake. The only saving grace was that he didn’t know what he was missing. Seb was only three, so he had no idea what birthdays were. He would, though, as he got older, and so Maggie was determined to make the day as special as she could.

So she was going to ask the man for a few things. Candles. A cake. Maybe a toy. She would beg him if she had to.

It’s your birthday soon, she told him, when they woke up. You’ll be three. You’re getting to be such a big boy. I’m so proud of you.

What’s a birthday? he said.

The day you were born. You came out of Mummy’s tummy.

He looked at her stomach. I was in your tummy?

I grew you in there.

Oh. Why did I come out?

You had to. And the day you did was your birthday. Three years ago. She paused. On birthdays you get presents. And I have a present for you.

What is it?

A wish.

What’s a wish?

It’s when you ask for something and you get it. You might get it. What would you like, most of all?

He thought for a while.

To stay here with you, Mummy.