Читать книгу The Mother: A shocking thriller about every mother’s worst fear… - Jaime Raven, Jaime Raven - Страница 15

Adam’s face was ashen as he hung up his call.

‘You won’t believe this,’ he said. ‘They’ve given that photo of Molly on the sofa to the media.’

At first, the significance of this didn’t register. But then I remembered the kidnapper’s warning and gave a frightened gasp.

‘He’s not sure how it happened,’ Adam said through clenched teeth. ‘But it’s a cock-up, and they’re now having to contact news outlets to tell them not to run it.’

His words hit me like ice water and it was all I could do not to scream.

‘Has he checked the street camera footage?’ I said. ‘What does it show?’

‘Not much apparently. The guy is holding Molly but you can’t see his face.’

‘Shit.’

‘Look, I’m going to the nick,’ Adam said. ‘I want to know how the fuck this happened and I want to see the camera footage for myself.’

‘Then I’m coming with you,’ I said.

Sergeant Palmer stepped further into the kitchen, shaking her head. ‘I really don’t think that’s a good idea,’ she said. ‘You should both stay here. I’ll talk to the gaffer about having the camera sequence sent over.’

But Adam wasn’t going to be talked out of it. He nudged past her and into the hall and I followed him. I thought he would march straight up to the front door, but instead he went into the living room and switched on the television.

I stood just inside the room and watched the screen come to life. A drum was beating in my head and it felt like a large stone was crushing my chest. This latest development terrified me. The kidnapper had issued a specific threat.

She will also suffer if you or the police make any of the images public through newspapers or on the television.

I was pretty sure it wouldn’t matter to him that it was a mistake by the police. But how would he react? Would he really take it out on Molly to show us that he meant what he said and that his threats shouldn’t be ignored?

I started to think about all the ways he might hurt her, but then stopped myself because I suddenly felt as if my head would explode.

As Adam used the remote to switch between channels, I tried to concentrate on my breathing because I feared I might faint. But my lungs felt like they were squeezing shut and every breath made me shudder. I was also having to fight the effects of the sedative, which was starting to cloud my thoughts and slow me down.

Sergeant Palmer was behind me in the hallway, speaking into her phone. I assumed she was talking to Brennan, telling him that we were coming to the station. There was no way they could stop us, of course, and I didn’t think they’d dare try. It was our daughter who’d been taken. Our daughter who now faced the wrath of the kidnapper because of their bloody mistake. I swore to myself that if and when I found out who was responsible they would feel the full force of my anger.

‘Jesus Christ,’ Adam exploded. ‘They’re running it.’

By it he meant the photograph of Molly on the white sofa, which suddenly filled the TV screen.

A choking sound rushed out of me and I felt the air lock in my chest. But I stifled a scream because I wanted to hear what the news reporter was saying.

‘Fifteen-month-old Molly Mason was abducted this morning from her grandparents’ home in Streatham. Her grandmother was attacked in the process by a masked man. Molly is the daughter of two Metropolitan police officers and a huge hunt is under way to find her. The BBC understands that this photograph was sent to her mother, but it’s not yet been confirmed if a ransom is being demanded for her safe return. A Scotland Yard spokesman said further details would be released as and when they have them …’

The reporter’s words chilled me to the bone. It didn’t seem possible that he was talking about Adam and me, about Molly. It was always other people who featured in the news. Other people whose lives were shattered by terrible events. Never us.

Until now.

Molly’s picture disappeared from the screen and the news reader started talking about a couple who had become Britain’s biggest lottery winners. The abrupt change of subject prompted Adam to throw his hands up in the air.

‘Talk about fucking insensitive,’ he yelled. ‘How can they go from bad to good news just like that? It’s not right.’

I knew what he meant, but it was something we would have to face up to. Other people’s lives would go on as before, despite what was happening to us. It seemed so unfair, but that was the harsh reality.

Adam spun round and looked at me, his face grave, his eyes hard.

‘Are you all right, Sarah?’

I nodded, but I wasn’t all right. Not by a long shot. My stomach was now twisting and turning and I thought I might be sick again. I wondered if the kidnapper was watching the same news bulletin and if so whether he was taking out his anger over the airing of the photograph on Molly. It was a sickening thought.

‘Why don’t I go and see Brennan by myself,’ he said. ‘You stay here. Try to eat something. And maybe get your parents to come over.’

Food was the last thing on my mind even though I hadn’t eaten since this morning when I’d had a bacon sandwich in the staff canteen.

‘I want to find out what’s going on as much as you do,’ I said. ‘If Mum and Dad are at Aunt Tessa’s then they’ll be OK. I can drop in on them later.’

‘Well if you’re sure, then let’s go.’

Sergeant Palmer told us that if we were adamant about going to the station then she would take us.

‘But be aware that there are some reporters downstairs and a TV camera crew,’ she said.

I grabbed my bag and Adam picked up his jacket. Before leaving the flat I rushed into the bathroom and dry-retched into the sink, the bile burning my throat. Then I splashed water on my face and took a moment to stare at the stranger in the mirror. She wasn’t a pretty sight. Her eyes were bloodshot and the skin beneath them was bruised and puffy. I wondered if she would ever again look like she did before today.

Adam was waiting for me at the open front door and I followed him out, dragging in ragged gulps of air as I did so. The sun had disappeared but the late afternoon was still bright, with ominous clouds gathering at the edges of the grey sky.

We hurried down the stairs and out the front, where a police car was parked next to the entrance.

A small crowd of people had gathered and some of them I recognised as neighbours. The others were reporters and photographers and they fired questions at us as we stepped towards the car.

‘Have you heard from the kidnapper, Miss Mason?’

‘Where are you going? Has there been a development?’

‘Do you have a message for the man who’s taken your daughter?’

Cameras flashed as we threw ourselves into the back of the car. Seconds later we were pulling away from the estate and the plaintive wail of the siren drowned out all other sounds. But it offered no comfort. Granted, having left the flat I was infused with a sense of purpose, but that in itself wouldn’t change anything or bring to a halt the emotional roller coaster I was trapped on. Instinct told me that Adam and I were in for a long and tortuous ride.

He reached for my hand and I let him take it. We looked at each other for a moment, sharing the same horrible thoughts, our troubled past forgotten because we needed to work together for our daughter’s sake.

‘We’ll get through this, Sarah. Then we’ll …’

Adam stopped mid-sentence because the phone gripped tightly in my right hand pinged again with another incoming message.

‘Do you want me to check it?’ Adam said.

‘I’ve got it,’ I told him. This time I didn’t drop it and managed to swipe the screen even though my body froze.

A second later I was staring at the third text from the kidnapper and a new wave of fear and terror washed over me. There were no photographs attached and this made me fear that he had already harmed my little girl.

You were warned about the images. Now your darling little girl is going to suffer the consequences.