After Anna. Alex Lake
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office opened. PC Davis came in. He had the false smile of someone who had bad news but wanted to be reassuring.
‘We did not find Anna on the way to your house,’ he said. He paused, ‘so we have to consider the possibility that she’s a little further afield.’
Julia reached for Brian’s hand again. This time he took it.
‘What does that mean?’ Julia asked. ‘Where’s Anna? Where’s my daughter?’
PC Davis shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot.
‘My colleague will be here shortly,’ he said. ‘She’ll have more information.’
v.
Twenty minutes later a woman in a dark suit came into the headmistress’s office. She was in her late thirties and had a confident bearing, the kind that comes with many years of taking control of situations. Don’t worry, everything about her was saying. I can fix whatever’s wrong here.
‘Mrs Crowne?’ she said. ‘I’m Detective Inspector Wynne.’
Detective Inspector Wynne had short blonde hair, blue eyes, and an unsmiling expression. Her eyes were steady and intense, but she looked tired; there was a puffiness to the dark circles around her eyes that suggested lack of sleep or too much booze, or both.
Her demeanour was calm and professional, but to Julia it looked as though DI Wynne took her job too personally for her own good. Not that Julia cared: she wanted DI Wynne to feel like finding Anna was the most important thing in her life.
The detective looked at Julia, then at Brian, then back at Julia. Her expression softened. ‘Mr and Mrs Crowne, I understand that you are worried – more than worried, I’m a mother myself – but try not to be. The vast majority of the time we find the child and everything is ok. And trust me, we will do everything we can to find her.’
‘Thank you,’ Julia said, feeling no calmer at all. ‘So what’s next?’
‘Perhaps you can take me through what happened. Step by step, if you could. As much detail as you can remember.’
‘There’s not much I can tell you,’ Julia said. ‘I arrived here around three thirty—’
‘Late,’ Brian said. ‘School finishes at three.’
‘I was late,’ Julia admitted. ‘But I thought she’d be here!’
‘That’s ok, Mrs Crowne. Just the facts for now, please. Did the school know you would be late?’
‘No! I was stuck in a meeting and my phone was dead and I couldn’t call them.’
‘In a meeting?’ DI Wynne said.
‘I’m a solicitor. Custody cases, mainly.’
‘I see. Well, it’s a busy job. So when you got here, there was no sign of Anna?’
Julia explained what she had done, how she had guessed that Anna would be in The Village Sweete Shoppe and gone down there, how she had asked some people for help, how she had searched the village until Brian called. When she was finished, DI Wynne nodded and chewed her lip thoughtfully.
She turned to the headmistress. ‘Mrs Jacobsen, I’ll need a list of all the parents and children who were at the school today, as well as all the employees of the school, whether they were here or not.’
Mrs Jacobsen nodded. ‘It’s not only parents who pick up the pupils,’ she said. ‘But we have a register of all those who are permitted to do so. I can let you have it.’
‘Do you have CCTV inside the school?’
Mrs Jacobsen’s mouth tightened into a slight moue. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘We do. Much as I prefer the promotion of civil liberties – we aim to produce responsible citizens who do the right thing because it is the right thing to do, and not because they think they are being observed – we have bent to the general panic about these matters and have installed CCTV.’
‘You must be glad you did, now,’ DI Wynne said. ‘And there might be something else in the area we can use. Could you make sure that the officers get access to the CCTV?’
‘Of course,’ Mrs Jacobsen said. ‘Right away.’
‘I have a question,’ Brian said, turning to the headmistress, his face a dark red. ‘How the hell did this happen? I thought the teachers did not let children out of the grounds unless they knew there was a parent there?’
That was right, Julia thought. The school had a pick-up policy and it was strictly adhered to. Only parents or designated carers could pick up children, although they were not allowed on the school grounds; the pupils were accompanied to the school gates and handed over to their responsible adults. In the case of an adult being late, they were to notify the school, and that pupil stayed inside. If, as Julia had done, the adult failed to notify the school, then the child would be ok: they would be left at the gates with a teacher, and brought inside to wait.
But it hadn’t worked this time.
‘I’ve spoken to the teachers,’ Mrs Jacobsen said. ‘They said that they thought you were there, Mrs Crowne. They expected you to be there since you had not called to say you would not be.’
‘She wasn’t there, though, was she!’ Brian said. ‘And you were supposed to take care of my daughter! That’s what we pay your obscene school fees for!’
‘Mr Crowne,’ the headmistress said. ‘The school adhered to its policies. I am sure the CCTV will show that. We do everything we can to ensure the safety—’
‘But not enough!’ Brian shouted.
‘We have policies in place that have been independently reviewed and which are in accordance with all necessary legislation,’ Mrs Jacobsen said. ‘And I am, of course, open to any questions you and Julia might have, but I’m not sure that now is the best time to discuss them.’
‘Fine,’ Julia said. ‘We can discuss it later.’ She glanced at DI Wynne. ‘For now we need to concentrate on finding Anna.’
‘Precisely,’ DI Wynne said. ‘If you could get me the CCTV and the personnel list, that would be a start.’ She turned to Julia and Brian. ‘I’d like a recent photo of Anna, as well. So that we can alert other constabularies and the border control folks.’
‘You think that’s necessary?’ Brian asked. ‘You think she might be being taken out of the country?’
‘I wouldn’t jump to conclusions,’ DI Wynne said. ‘But it’s a precaution worth taking.’
‘God,’ Brian said. He covered his eyes with his hand. ‘This can’t be happening. It just can’t. Not again. I can’t believe it’s happening again.’
vi.
Detective Inspector Wynne stared at Brian.
‘Again?’ she said. Her calm expression was suddenly more urgent. ‘You’ve had a child disappear before?’
Brian shook his head. ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not a child. My father. He left home when I was in my early twenties. He vanished. Didn’t leave a note; nothing. Just went.’
‘Have you heard from him since?’ DI Wynne asked.
‘No.’ Brian looked at his hands. He picked at the cuticle of his left index finger. ‘Not a word. Not even a Christmas card.’
‘And you don’t know where he is? He just disappeared?’ DI Wynne pressed.
‘Yep.’ Brian shrugged. ‘It was during the school holidays. Dad was a headmaster. He was nearing retirement. One day he was there, and the next he wasn’t.’
‘And you don’t know why? Or where he went?’
‘No. No idea.’