At Your Door. J. P. Carter
sight of the fact that every move you make will be scrutinised, and not just by me. I know you were under considerable pressure during the nursery kidnap investigation, but this will be a different kind of pressure and on some levels it will be even more intense.’
‘So what’s the word from on high?’ Walker asked after Anna came off the phone to the Commissioner.
‘He warned me to tread carefully, keep him in the loop and expect a lot of pressure,’ she said.
‘Well, that was to be expected given who the victim’s mother is.’
‘Yeah, I suppose.’
‘So why do I get the impression that you’re mightily pissed off, guv?’
Anna heaved a sigh. ‘He had the bloody cheek to ask Nash if I was the right person to head up the investigation. If the boss hadn’t assured him that I was then I’d probably be on my way home now.’
Walker frowned. ‘I don’t understand. Does Trimble actually think the case is too sensitive for you to handle?’
‘It’s not that. Nash said he raised the issue of Chloe and he’s worried that I’ll take my eye off the ball because of all the new stuff. He’s read the Evening Standard piece and has been told that I’ve been approached by C4.’
‘C4?’
‘Channel Four,’ Anna said. ‘They want to do a true crime programme on me.’
‘Bloody hell, guv. That’s a huge deal. Why haven’t you mentioned it?’
‘I only found out myself just before we left the office to go to the common. I pushed it to the back of my mind for obvious reasons.’
They stopped at traffic lights and Walker turned to face her.
‘Then in all fairness, you can’t blame the Commissioner for being a teensy bit concerned,’ he said. ‘I’ve told you before that there are times when even I don’t know how the hell you manage to stay focused on the job.’
Anna gave him a sharp look, so he quickly added, ‘And before you go off on one, guv, just remember that we’ve had this conversation several times so you know that I have a point. You also know that I trust you to do a good job on every case despite the fact that you have more on your plate than anyone deserves.’
His words took the wind out of her sails, so instead of snapping at him, she said, ‘You’re the only person I know who would dare say that to me, Max. And the only person who’d get away with it.’
‘Well, I like to think that’s because we’re friends as well as colleagues,’ he said. ‘And friends say it like it is whilst remaining loyal to each other.’
Anna shook her head and smiled. ‘You do have a way with words, Max. I’ll grant you that. And I bet your wife finds it so bloody annoying.’
He laughed. ‘She sure does, but she puts up with it because she knows I’m always right.’
‘You smug bastard.’
The pair enjoyed a good working relationship, and Anna knew that Walker would always have her back. For instance, two years ago she received an anonymous tip that a man matching her ex-husband’s description had been spotted in a Paris suburb. It was during a big murder investigation and she knew her superiors would not have let her take time off to check it out. So she confided in Walker and he told her to go there and then covered for her. They stayed in touch by phone and she returned to London forty-eight hours later after it turned out the man in question wasn’t Matthew after all.
Walker was one of the few people who had encouraged her never to give up searching for her daughter. Most were of the opinion that it had become a pointless obsession and that she needed to get on with her life and accept that she would never see Chloe again.
Walker understood how she felt, mainly because he had two young daughters of his own. She couldn’t help feeling jealous of him, though, and of her other colleagues in MIT who were mothers and fathers. Whenever they talked about their kids it reinforced the extent of her loss.
Walker was more sensitive to her feelings than the rest of them. He said to her once, ‘I can feel your pain, ma’am. I really don’t know how I’d cope if I was in your position. I’m not sure I’d even have the strength to carry on.’
Anna carried on because for her giving up was not an option. However, there had been times over the past ten years when she’d almost convinced herself that she was wasting her time.
In the months after Matthew abducted Chloe it was easy to believe that they’d be found or that Matthew would accept that he was in the wrong and bring her back from wherever he’d taken her.
At that time everyone was rooting for the heartbroken mother and the story was attracting a lot of publicity. Thousands of people reacted to her social media campaigns and appeals, and there was good reason to hope that she would be reunited with Chloe before her daughter’s third birthday. But interest in the story eventually waned and the abduction became old news.
In a little while Chloe would be thirteen and still Anna had no idea where she was. All she did know for certain was that she was no longer with her father because he was murdered three years ago in a park in Southampton.
Rebecca Blake and her husband lived in Pimlico, a small, upscale residential area of London bordered by Westminster and Belgravia. Scores of politicians had homes there because the quiet streets were within walking distance of the Houses of Parliament. The three-storey property owned by Rebecca and Theo Blake was in a cobbled mews close to St George’s Square.
It was approaching nine p.m. when Anna and Walker arrived in the pool car and parked in front of the blue-painted garage. The lights were on inside so Anna thought it likely that the couple were at home.
As she climbed out of the car her stomach churned at the thought of what they were about to do. No matter how many times she had delivered the devastating news of a person’s death it had never got any easier. And it was made worse this time because she had met the woman whose life she was about to ruin.
It was Theo Blake who answered the door. Anna recognised him at once from the photos she’d seen on the web. He was a tall, rakishly handsome man who looked to be in his mid-fifties. Grey stubble bristled on his head and chin, and his corduroy trousers and black cardigan gave him the rumpled appearance of an academic.
Anna had already taken her ID from her pocket and she held it up for him to see.
‘Hello, Mr Blake,’ she said. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Anna Tate and this is my colleague, Detective Inspector Max Walker. We need to talk to you and your wife. Is Mrs Blake in right now?’
Theo cocked his head to one side and frowned. ‘Is this about Holly? Has she turned up?’
‘It would be best if we spoke to you inside and together,’ Anna said. ‘So please may we come in?’
The man’s face clouded with confusion.
‘This sounds ominous,’ he said. ‘Can’t you just tell me what …’
‘Who is it, dear? Is there a problem?’
He snapped his head towards the voice, which belonged to his wife. She had stepped into the hallway behind him while tying up the belt of a long silk bathrobe.
When she saw them she froze, and her eyes grew wide.
‘What’s going on?’ she said.
Her husband started to speak, but Anna beat him to it.
‘We’re police officers, Mrs Blake, and we need to have a word with you and your husband. It’s about your daughter. My name is Anna Tate and I’m a DCI with the Major