Читать книгу The Mother: A shocking thriller about every mother’s worst fear… - Jaime Raven, Jaime Raven - Страница 11

The drive to my duplex flat in Dulwich was akin to an out-of-body experience. It felt like I was looking down on someone who wasn’t me.

Surely the real Sarah Mason was at work, investigating crimes, while her daughter was playing safely with her grandmother. It was inconceivable that she was actually in her ex-husband’s car fearing that she would never see their daughter again.

The reality of the situation was almost too painful to face up to. But I knew I had to, and it was making me feel light-headed and dizzy.

I drew some comfort at least from Adam’s presence. It meant the burden of despair could be shared between us.

My ex had many faults, but among his strong points was an ability to hold his nerve, even in the most perilous of situations. It was something I’d discovered when we’d worked together in Lewisham CID. He was always so sure of himself, always in control. It was what made him a better than average detective.

I turned to look at him and saw a face that was pinched and solemn, and his hands were gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles were white.

‘I never thought I could be this scared,’ I said, my voice breaking. ‘I can’t stop wondering what’s happened to our baby.’

‘We have to stay positive,’ Adam said. ‘We’ve both dealt with other parents in this position and that’s what we told them they should do.’

‘But that was our job. This is our life. It’s so different.’

‘I know. But all the more reason to be strong and to keep telling ourselves that we’ll get Molly back.’

‘But I can’t help thinking …’

My breath got caught in my throat, cutting off the words. I closed my eyes and tears pressed against the lids, burning as they fought to escape.

It was at this point that guilt reared its ugly head for the first time. I suddenly felt that I was to blame for what had happened because I hadn’t been there for my daughter. Instead, I’d been content to palm her off on my mother so that I could continue pursuing a career as a police officer.

Now she was gone I had no choice but to accept some of the responsibility. I’d been selfish by opting to be a cop rather than a full-time mum.

And whatever happened in the coming hours and days, it was something for which I’d never be able to forgive myself.

My split-level flat was on the top floor of a four-storey, modern block off Lordship Lane, just a few hundred yards from Dulwich Park. It had two bedrooms, a balcony, and plenty of living space. The estate agent had described it as a ‘luxury duplex penthouse’, which made it sound posher and grander than it actually was.

Adam and I had lived there during our three years of marriage, and it came to me as part of the divorce settlement. He kept the buy-to-let flat we owned in Mitcham, so in our case the division of assets had been fairly straightforward and uncontroversial.

Adam had been here numerous times during the last six months, after Molly had reached an age when he could take her on days out and for overnight stays at his place.

Despite the fact that he had fucked up our marriage I’d never made it difficult for him to have access to his daughter. He may have been a shit husband but he was a pretty good father. And that was why I knew that the pain he was feeling was just as acute as mine.

There were two police patrol cars already parked in front of my block when we arrived. That wasn’t unexpected, but it did cause my stomach to fold in on itself. It was another unwelcome image, another gut-wrenching reminder that I wasn’t about to wake up from a terrible nightmare.

Adam parked in one of the bays and we both climbed out. A woman in a grey trouser suit approached and I recognised her as Sergeant Rachel Palmer, from the family liaison team. She was tall, with dark, shoulder-length hair and a face that was conventionally pretty. She asked if it would be all right to come up to the flat and that other officers would stay downstairs to fend off the reporters and photographers when they started to turn up, as was inevitable.

I said it was fine and she introduced herself to Adam, who led the way into the block and up the stairs to the apartment.

Once inside, Palmer offered to make some tea while Adam and I went into the living room.

The first thing to seize my attention was the box of Molly’s toys next to the sofa. The sight of it hit me for six and violent shudders racked my body.

‘This should never have happened,’ I said. ‘It’s my fault, all my fault.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Adam said. ‘Of course it’s not.’

‘But if she had been with me she wouldn’t have been taken.’

Adam guided me to the sofa. I was shaking convulsively and my heart felt like it was on fire.

‘You need something to help you cope with the shock,’ Adam said. ‘Maybe I should call a doctor.’

I shook my head. ‘It won’t do any good. I just have to get a grip.’ But I knew that was going to be a lot easier said than done.

He sat opposite me in the armchair, threw himself back against the cushion and stared up at the ceiling. His face was a portrait of anguish and disbelief, his mouth drawn in tight. The light had gone from his eyes and I could tell that he was also struggling to control his emotions.

‘Thanks for bringing me home,’ I said. ‘Are you going to stay?’

He wiped his hands across his face and then looked at me.

‘Of course I am,’ he said. ‘We might not be together anymore but that doesn’t mean I’d let you go through this by yourself. Molly’s our baby. We have to face this together.’

For a few minutes we sat in silence, tormented by our own dark thoughts. Then Palmer appeared and put a tray of teas on the coffee table.

She was about to speak when my phone pinged to indicate an incoming text message. It came as such a shock that I leapt to my feet and the phone fell from my lap onto the floor.

I felt a shiver of apprehension as I reached down for it. My hand shook as I opened up the message. I could feel Adam’s and Palmer’s eyes on me and the tension in the room was almost palpable.

The message appeared and I read it out loud.

It’s me again. There are two attachments. The first is a photograph of your daughter having an afternoon nap in her new cot. The second is a document that you need to read.

Adam was suddenly at my side, holding my hand and turning the phone towards him so that he too could read the text.

‘Check the photo first,’ he said.

I opened it up and stared with a heavy heart at my baby lying fast asleep in a cot. She was on her back and wearing plain pink pyjamas that I hadn’t seen before. Her eyes were closed and she was sucking on her thumb, just as she always did in her sleep.

I felt a wash of cold sweat and a sharp pain speared through my chest.

‘At least she looks OK,’ Adam said over my shoulder. ‘She hasn’t been harmed.’

That wasn’t the point. She still wasn’t safe. She was with a stranger and we had no idea what he planned to do with her. She would certainly be scared, and maybe he’d already hurt her in some way since the photo was taken.

‘Check the document,’ Adam said. ‘Let’s see what it says.’

But by now my hands were shaking so much I couldn’t operate the phone, so Adam took it from me and opened up the document.

‘Read it out,’ Palmer told him. ‘I need to hear this too.’

But Adam ignored her and read it to himself, and from the look on his face I knew it was bad.

I wasn’t sure how long it took him to get through the message, or if he read it twice, but it felt like a lifetime. When he’d finished, the blood had retreated from his face and there was a look of feral rage in his eyes.

‘What is it?’ I said. ‘What does it say?’

But he couldn’t speak. He was shell-shocked. I went to grab the phone from him but Palmer beat me to it.

‘Give it to me,’ I demanded, my voice shrill, high-pitched. ‘I want to see it.’

I moved towards her but Adam got between us.

‘You need to prepare yourself, Sarah,’ he said, holding my arms. ‘This isn’t good.’

I froze and felt a cold panic tighten in my chest.

We stared at each other and the haunted expression on his face was truly terrifying.

‘However bad it is, I need to see it,’ I said.

A moment later Palmer handed me the phone, and her face was stiff with shock. As soon as I started to read what the kidnapper had written I felt the darkness rise up inside me.

Sarah Mason … FYI I’ve taken your daughter as punishment for what you did to me. You’ll never touch or speak to her again. But you will see her grow up. That will be my way of making sure that your suffering does not diminish over time. I’ll send you photos and video clips on a regular basis. If I find out at any point that you’ve stopped looking at them, I’ll take it out on Molly. She will also suffer if you or the police make any of the images public through newspapers or on the television. Remember – I don’t love your child and I won’t hesitate to hurt her – or even kill her – if you give me cause.

Yours … Molly’s adoptive parent.