Somer feels her throat tightening. Diane Appleford might be prickly and defensive with the police but when it comes to her kids her heart is definitely in the right place. She's going to support her children, whoever they turn out to be. And Somer wonders suddenly if her husband wasn't, in the end, able to do the same `“ and whether that's the reason he's no longer around.
`You want tea?' she asks, moving towards the kettle. `Coffee?'
Faith shakes her head but Everett indicates yes. She'd have done the same even if she'd had four cups already and was wired with caffeine: it's not about the drink, it's about the domesticity. The reassurance of routine. There's only instant in the cupboard but the aroma fills the small room. Not for the first time, Somer wonders why it always manages to smell better than it tastes.
She pulls out one of the stools at the breakfast bar and slides Ev's mug across to her. They're waiting to see if Faith speaks first `“ they want her to feel she's in control.
`So,' begins Everett, having strung out the process of sugar and milk (neither of which she takes) as long as humanly feasible.
`I'll talk to you,' says Faith at last. `But I don't want any of it coming out. In public, I mean. About me. Who I am.'
The two women exchange a glance. They know the perils of a promise like that. Especially if this is a hate crime. Somer takes a deep breath and makes a decision.
`Until we know who did this we won't know why. If he did it because of your status, then we'll have to charge him with that offence and it'll be almost impossible to keep your name out of it entirely.'
Faith starts to shake her head but Somer plunges on. `But if he attacked you because you're a beautiful girl `“ and you are `“ then that's different. Either way, I promise you I will do everything I possibly can to protect your privacy.'
She reaches out for Faith's hand, forces her to look up, to believe her. Their eyes meet and slowly the girl sits up a bit straighter and lifts her chin.
`OK. What do you want to know?' she says.
`Why don't you start at the beginning?' says Somer. `You had breakfast with your mum and sister then left for college? Let's start from there.'
Faith takes a deep breath. `I left the house at 9.00 and walked down towards the bus stop on Cherwell Drive. That's where it happened.'
`Someone took you `“ abducted you? Is that what you're saying?'
Her head drops and she nods.
`It's usually quite busy along there at that time of the day, isn't it?' says Ev. She makes it a question, hoping it sounds less confrontational like that, but there's no getting away from the fact that Rydal Way is a rat run and no one reported any sort of incident along there that morning. The idea that a young girl could have been snatched off a busy cut-through in the middle of the rush hour and no one saw anything `“
Faith looks up briefly. `It had just started raining. Really hard.'
Which could `“ just about `“ explain it. The road is suddenly awash, windows get steamed up, drivers concentrate more on where they're going and less on what's around them.
`I'd stopped to get out my umbrella,' says Faith. `I'd propped my bag up on a wall to look for it. That's when it happened. Someone put a plastic bag over my head and started dragging me backwards. I tried to fight them off but they jabbed something in my back. Something sharp. I thought it was a knife.'
`You didn't see his face?' asks Somer, keeping her voice steady. It's her own personal wake-at-dawn terror. Not being able to breathe, not being able to see. `No one went past just before? No one was hanging around?'
`I had my earphones in, so I wasn't really concentrating.'
`And then what happened?'
`He started dragging me round the back towards the garages. I couldn't see but I could tell `“ it's all gravelly in there `“ it's different to the pavement.'
`The garages?' asks Ev.
`Yeah, you know, at the bottom of the road.'
And Ev does know, now she thinks about it. You hardly ever see that sort of thing any more, but Rydal Way has a separate area for garages just before the junction with Cherwell Drive. And now Faith's story is starting to make more sense: if the attacker was lying in wait round there he wouldn't have been visible from the street and it would have taken only a few seconds to bundle Faith out of sight.
`And then he shoved me against the van and I heard him open the door.'
`He had a van?'
Faith nods. `Oh yeah, he had a van.'
`What happened next?'
`He pushed me forward and I fell into the back. That's when he tied up my hands.'
`In front or behind your back?' `In front.'
`And you're sure it was a van? It couldn't have been an SUV? Some other sort of car that opens at the back?'
Faith shakes her head. `I never saw it but it was too low for an SUV. And it wasn't that big. When we went round the corners I got thrown against the side. There was some sort of plastic on the floor `“ I could feel it sticking to me.'
Somer nods and makes a note. However traumatic it was to get to this point, now Faith has made up her mind she's proving to be a surprisingly good witness. Accurate, observant, attentive to detail.
She's playing with her necklace now; the one that bears her name.
`Just now you said `њthey`ќ,' says Somer. `And then you said `њhe`ќ. Is it possible there was more than one person?'
Faith shrugs. `I don't think so. I'm not sure.'
`But no one spoke to you `“ you never heard any voices?'
She shakes her head. `The whole time, he never spoke. He never said a single word.'
* * *
Adam Fawley
2 April 2018
11.24
I'm halfway home when I get the call. I curse under my breath when I see who it is. I promised Alex I'd be there to meet the health visitor, but I was rather hoping to get back to the office before any of the team realized I was AWOL. Some hope, clearly.
The line is breaking up but I can still just about hear.
`Sir? It's Tony Asante.'
I could have guessed it'd be him. He's been with us a few months now and thus far I can't fault him. Diligent, intelligent, technically excellent. He does what he's asked and he takes the initiative when he should. And yet there's something about him I just can't get a handle on, and I don't think the rest of the team can either. Every time I think I have him worked out, he manages to wrong-foot me. It's almost as if he's playing a role; going through the motions. As if his real agenda is elsewhere. Alex says he's probably just extremely ambitious and not very good at hiding it, and I suspect she has a point. It would certainly explain why Quinn has taken such an obvious dislike, and let's face it, he's not that good at hiding it either. But unlike Quinn, Asante seems to get on better with the women on the team than the men, which still isn't that common in this job. Perhaps it's just that, like them, he knows what it's like being in the minority.
`What is it, Asante?'
`Sorry to bother you, sir. I think I've found something.'
I frown slightly. `What `“ Douglas Appleford, you mean? You've tracked him down?'