Cold Blood by Jane Heafield (great books to read txt) 📕

but now had at least acknowledged his existence. ‘Always good also. So, you wanted to talk to me?’

‘Yes. It’s about my old place, Lampton. You remember it?’

Of course. It was a Peak District village, Lorraine’s former home. But he didn’t want to give the impression that their time together, a decade ago now, was still vivid in his mind. So he gave a pause. ‘Lampton? Oh yeah, that place. I remember a little. What about it?’

‘Not long after I left, there was that missing girl, you remember?’

Vaguely. He recalled hearing something on the news, back when Lorraine had been pregnant with Joe and just a few weeks after she’d left Lampton and moved in with him. But he’d been a detective sergeant with South Yorkshire Police, not Derbyshire Constabulary, and the investigation had nothing to do with him. He hadn’t known much back then and hadn’t learned anything new since.

‘I remember hearing about it. Did they find her?’

‘No, that’s the point. It’s been ten years in March. Not a single clue, no suspects. But the anniversary is the perfect time to bring the story into people’s minds again.’

‘I’m getting lost, Lorraine. Why are you telling me this?’

‘I saw an article on a Facebook post. A friend sent it to me because it was about Lampton. It was asking for help with a documentary about the missing girl. They wanted people who knew Lampton. So I called them, and they hired me. They’ve got a lot of their background sections filmed and now they want a walkaround. Round Lampton, filming certain places, and they want me to talk to them about the village and what it was like back then. Back when the girl was taken. And then we’re going to Chesterfield. We’re doing it over the next few days, starting tomorrow. I can’t wait. It’ll be such fun.’

She was starting to ramble, and he was lost. ‘Sounds great, Lorraine, but what has this got to do with me and Joe?’

‘Well, the film-makers are hoping to examine old clues and see if they can find something new. Wouldn’t it be great if they could solve it after all these years? So I told them about you. I told them you’re a police officer. I said you could get into the files. You can get all the police information from back then, including stuff the public didn’t see.’

The tension came back with a vengeance, almost locking every muscle. ‘Wait a minute, Lorraine. That’s why you called me? That’s all you want?’

‘I know I haven’t been in touch for years, but if we can solve–’

‘And Joe?’

Her pause said everything.

‘Don’t call me again, Lorraine. I thought you wanted to meet up with Joe. I thought you gave a shit about your own son. Some detective I am, right?’

She stammered. ‘I… Liam… I have a… I can’t just…’

He felt anger pushing to the surface, but long practice had made him adept at subduing it. Calmly, he said, ‘You have a what, Lorraine? A new family now? That’s cold. There’s something wrong with your mind. You’re not wired right. But it doesn’t matter. Joe doesn’t need you. In fact, he’s better off without you. Has been for the last ten years. So don’t call me again and stay away. Stay away from me and stay away from Joe.’

He hung up. Now he felt the anger bubbling up again, and this time he let it. It wasn’t directed at Lorraine, but at himself, and he deserved to let it gnaw and pound at his insides. He had earned this abuse because he, not Lorraine, was the fool who’d made a promise that was now fated to crack his son’s heart.

6

Bennet woke in the dead hours of Sunday with the urge to do something. He felt antsy and needed to work his muscles. He considered washing his car, a five-year-old Nissan Pathfinder he’d recently bought because Joe loved the idea of a big four-by-four. He thought about doing Joe’s unfinished homework. He debated cleaning out the garage. All would burn energy, but none would satisfy a need to… progress. That was the best word for it. Something that furthered his life, or meant something in the great scheme of things. He even got dressed and got the front door open, his plan to hit the station and work some more on the Buttery Park case. But even that had an air of the futile about it. He knew what the problem was. Same as all of last night: Joe and his mother.

He settled for jabbing a phone number. Detective Liz Miller answered quickly, even though Spain was only an hour ahead of the UK.

‘Stake-out?’ he said.

‘Can’t sleep. Our man’s doing just fine in that department. And you? Raid?’

She’d understood his question: why was she awake so late? The inspector, part of MIT 3 in Sheffield, was in Barcelona as part of an investigation into the armed robbery of a jeweller’s in broad daylight just a hundred yards from her station. The suspect was Spanish and had fled home, and they were staking him out. And Bennet understood her question: was he awake because of an upcoming dawn raid?

‘Can’t sleep either,’ he said. ‘My son’s mother just got in contact.’

A moment of silence from Liz. She knew his history. Lorraine had fallen pregnant with Joe and they’d decided to live together. Bennet was newly promoted to detective sergeant and hadn’t wanted to leave Barnsley, so Lorraine had cut her roots. A year later, unable to deal with having a child she’d wanted to abort, she’d abandoned her new family and lived alone in a bedsit until she’d met her current husband and relocated to Birmingham.

Bennet had met Liz in December last year, when she’d inveigled her way into a double murder investigation his team was heading. There seemed to be a hint of something beyond the professional to their relationship, but nothing had coalesced so far. Bennet hadn’t realised how much he liked Liz until he heard about