Her Last Tomorrow Page 14

  I think for a moment. ‘No, no-one. Not really. There isn’t anyone he sees regularly or anything like that. He tends to keep himself to himself most of the time.’

  ‘Tasha, do you know where Nick usually drinks?’ she asks.

  ‘He doesn’t. Not much. He might have the occasional drink or two every now and again, but if we ever go to parties or functions or anything he always drives. He doesn’t like drinking too much. Not after . . .’ I let the words trail off. We both know why Nick doesn’t drink much any more.

  ‘But if he does go out, where does he go?’ she says, writing in her notebook.

  ‘I don’t know. He’s been to the Flag a couple of times with friends. I think he quite likes the Old Red Lion, too. Why?’

  ‘What about the Talbot Arms?’

  I can’t help but let out an involuntary laugh. ‘I doubt it. Isn’t that place full of drug addicts and benefits cheats?’

  Jane McKenna raises an eyebrow. I can’t tell whether it’s in agreement with me or because of my choice of words about that pub’s clientele. ‘It’s certainly one of the more lively pubs in the town as far as we’re concerned. Which is why I was a bit surprised to see Nick going in there earlier today.’ She looks at me as if she’s expecting me to have some sort of prior knowledge of this. She couldn’t be further from the truth.

  ‘I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?’ I say.

  ‘We would, but we don’t know where he is at the moment. We were hoping you might be able to help us with that.’

  ‘Me? If you saw him going in there, then surely you saw where he went after? Are you tailing him or something?’

  McKenna gives off a big, beaming, innocent smile. ‘No, nothing like that. I just happened to be passing. I was on my way to speak to someone else.’ I can tell she’s lying.

  ‘And what about the officers who are meant to be keeping an eye on us? On the house? Where were they?’

  ‘They weren’t around at that time,’ she replies, after a pause. ‘We have to be careful where we allocate our resources and we’ve not had any incidents of press intrusion or anything so we’ve been scaling things back. But when they’re here, they keep an eye on the house, like you say. They can’t go following Nick around everywhere. Anyway, why would you want us to be following Nick? You told us you don’t suspect him.’

  I’m thrown into a daze of confusion by McKenna’s words. Press intrusion? Scaling things back? Nick as a suspect? My logical mind knows she’s trying to bombard me and squeeze something out of me, and I know she’s not allowed to get away with this, but she’s come on her own and she’s caught me unawares.

  ‘You’re meant to be protecting us,’ I say, choking back the tears.

  ‘We’re trying,’ she replies, leaning towards me. ‘But first you need to protect yourself.’

  37

  Nick

  Once I’m sitting at Alan’s dining room table, I explore a little further. The first thing that occurs to me is that the dark web is a pretty fucked-up place. Alan was right about that. A lot of it I don’t understand, but the bits I do I wish I didn’t.

  The whole set-up of the dark web is very strange. Alan pointed me towards a directory listing of sites, but didn’t want anything more to do with it. As I click through the links, I come across what looks like some sort of online marketplace. It’s laid out like an old-style message board or image board, the kind which used to be all over the internet in the late nineties. What amazes me is how blatantly the categories are all listed. Counterfeits, Drug paraphernalia, Drugs, Forgeries, Weapons. It’s astonishing how blatant it all is, as if this is the most normal thing in the world.

  It doesn’t matter if the authorities see it – and they invariably do all the time – because none of it can be traced. There’s no paper trail. No money changing hands – it’s all bitcoin and other virtual, untraceable currencies. If the authorities wanted to bust a seller, they couldn’t. If they bought off them, they’d just see an anonymous username and that would be it. Sellers could theoretically see who’d bought off them, but the eBay-like feedback system on the marketplace means it’d be almost impossible to buy from a police shill without the police having to sell vast quantities of drugs and weapons beforehand to boost their feedback score. It’s almost as if these guys have run across the border and are stood waving at the police, saying You can’t catch us.

  I find a section on the website titled ‘Favours in Kind’, which seems to list mainly non-financial transactions people are interested in. Most of the language is odd colloquialisms, with obscure references to what seem to mostly be drugs and guns, although there are some posts which are clearly even heavier than that.

  I decide to take the plunge and click the ‘Register’ link. The first thing that hits me is that this is the only website I’ve ever come across which asks me for only two things: a username and a password. No email address, no name, nothing. I look around the room and try to pick something obscure. I see the drinks cabinet, have no clue what kind of wood it’s actually made from, but type walnut6676 in the username box and choose a password I know I’ll remember but which I’ve never used anywhere else.

  That’s it. I’m signed up and back in the ‘Favours in Kind’ section of the website. I take some time to drill down through the locations so I know the advert will be seen by users who are relatively local. Once I get down towards regional and county level, the number of adverts appearing in the section start to dwindle. It seems there aren’t too many local people in this part of the marketplace. That’s probably a reassuring thing. I don’t want to push it too far, so I keep my options open. I’m pretty sure someone’ll travel for three grand.

  I click the ‘New Thread’ link and type in the title to my advert, trying to think of a cryptic, underground way to word it. Do I need to? This is the dark web, after all. In the end I plump for Garbage disposal expert needed. Cash available. In the text of the advert, I write:

  I have need for the removal of a particularly nasty piece of rubbish. Generous cash payment available for experienced and knowledgeable removal expert.

  I read it through again. It’s cryptic, but not so much that no-one’ll know what I’m after. Perhaps just enough to weed out anyone who’s not serious. If someone’s capable of doing the job for me, they’ll know what I’m on about. If, somehow, the authorities were to see it, they’d know, too. Would it be enough to convict me? Possibly, but I’m assured that this is completely untraceable. Besides which, what choice do I have? I need to do this or I’m not going to get Ellie back. With everything piling up on top of me, I have no other option.

  I can feel myself starting to get agitated and sense the world closing in around me again, so I try to take a few deep, calm breaths. I have to try and anchor things in normality again. Try to stop my thoughts running away with me. I’ve got to regain control.

  I spend the next hour or so browsing the dark web as well as checking my emails on the internet and generally catching up on some of the stuff I’ve missed. I try to keep away from the news sites and social media, but I can’t help taking a look. I don’t delve into the comments sections of any news articles about Ellie, mainly because there aren’t many. I don’t know whether to be annoyed and upset that the help is dwindling or slightly relieved that it might take off some of the unwanted media attention and allow the police to do their job properly. I guess they’re the experts at this sort of thing. If they thought there would be a benefit to keeping the media pressure up, they’d do it. They know what they’re doing. And that’s what worries me.

  When I’m done, I hand the laptop back to Alan and ask if I can use it again as and when needed, just until I’ve got my own laptop back.

  It’s always handy to know you’ve got someone you can count on.

  38

  Nick

  When I get back to the house, Jane McKenna’s already there, waiting for me. She smiles at me a little too keenly as I walk into the living room. Tasha seems a little uneasy.
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  ‘Hello, Nick,’ McKenna says as she finishes drinking her cup of tea. ‘I was just updating Natasha on the search. We’ve had officers combing the woodland out towards the motorway, and the radio appeals are going to go national. It’s looking likely that whoever’s got Ellie will either be keeping her well hidden or will have taken her further afield by now.’

  Well, I could have told you that, I think. In fact, I recall saying as much right from the start. ‘So that’s it?’ I say. ‘You’ve come to give us the news that there’s no news?’

  ‘They’re doing all they can, Nick,’ Tasha says. I wonder why she’s suddenly so defensive of the police. It gets to me that she’s seemed far more reassured by them than she has been by her own husband. Her reaction to the whole Derek incident and hearing about the Angela thing was kind of understandable, but I still would’ve expected her to have stood by me a little more firmly. Once again, it feels like Nick against the world. I become even more sure that I’m pursuing the right path to get it all sorted out, once and for all.

  ‘It’s fine,’ McKenna says, putting a placating hand on Tasha’s knee. Seems they’ve become the best of friends since I went out. ‘Actually, Nick, I was just wondering if I could ask you a couple of things.’

  Tasha picks up on the subtext quicker than I do. ‘I’ll go and make some tea.’

  ‘No, it’s fine,’ I say. ‘I’ll do it. We can talk in the kitchen.’

  I don’t think anyone actually even wants tea, so I don’t ask. I close the kitchen door behind me and wait to hear what McKenna has to say.

  ‘How have you been coping?’ she asks, leaning back against the cupboards, her head cocked slightly to one side.

  ‘About as well as you’d expect, I suppose.’

  ‘Well, I think you’re doing a great job. That’s the problem, there’s not much the parents can do. I guess you feel pretty hopeless and helpless.’

  ‘That about covers it, yeah,’ I say.

  ‘I hear you’ve been getting out and about a bit more over the last day or two.’

  Have they been tailing me? ‘Yeah, I have. Change of scenery. Bit of fresh air and all that.’

  ‘One of our officers saw you heading into the Talbot Arms,’ she says, catching me off guard. I’m pretty sure she sees my eyes flicker. Bitch.

  ‘Really? Oh yeah, I popped in for a quick drink. Trying to take my mind off things, you know. Like you say, there’s not much we can do and I just feel like I’m sitting around waiting for news. I’ll go stir-crazy.’

  ‘I can imagine,’ she says, smiling. ‘An odd place to choose, though, isn’t it? I mean, it’s the other side of town from here.’

  ‘I was passing,’ I say, before I can even stop myself. What if the police officer had followed me all the way? They’d know that was bullshit. ‘Not somewhere I usually drink, but I didn’t really want to go somewhere familiar. I wanted the escapism, I guess.’

  McKenna nods. ‘You’ve lived in this town a long time, haven’t you?’

  ‘All my life,’ I say.

  She nods again. ‘Never had the best reputation, that pub. Must admit, when I was in uniform I used to spend more time breaking up fights in the Talbot than I did doing anything else.’

  ‘Happens to every pub at some point,’ I say, forcing a smile.

  ‘Yeah, but more often than not it’s there. That place never changes. Never will, I suspect. Which makes me think it’s rather an odd place for you to go for a quick pint. I can’t imagine the regulars at the Talbot are the sort of people you’re keen to hang around with.’

  ‘Like I said, it’s a change of scenery. I didn’t want to go somewhere where people would know me.’

  ‘Makes sense,’ she replies. ‘So you don’t know anyone who drinks at the Talbot at all?’

  I try to look at her for as long as I can get away with, in some sort of attempt to determine whether or not she knows more than she’s letting on.

  ‘No, no-one.’

  ‘Glad to hear it,’ she says. ‘Some very dodgy characters drink in there, you know. The sort of people you’d be better off keeping well away from.’

  ‘Well, I didn’t stay for long,’ I say.

  ‘I know.’ She stares at me for a little longer than is necessary. ‘Still, better than drinking at home alone, eh?’ She smiles and pushes herself back upright, away from the kitchen cupboards. ‘I’ll keep you up to date if there’s any more news. Keep positive, won’t you?’

  I watch as she lets herself out, my fists tightening into whitening bundles of flesh. I feel the eyes of the Rosie Ragdoll searing into the back of my head, feeling every last ounce of my mother’s disapproval. I turn, reach up and grab the doll, and put it inside the cereal cupboard, quietening the voices in my mind for just a short while.

  39

  Nick

  ‘What was that all about?’ Tasha says, hearing the door close and coming into the kitchen to see me.

  ‘I don’t know,’ I say. ‘I really don’t know.’

  She puts the kettle on, clearly wanting that cup of tea after all. ‘She was acting all weird before you came back, asking strange questions.’

  ‘What sort of questions?’ I ask as nonchalantly as I can. I can see Tasha’s been crying, but I don’t want to say anything. It feels a bit stupid to ask why in the present situation.

  ‘Stuff about where you’d been over the last few days, if you’d told me. She asked about your friends, too.’

  ‘Friends?’ I wonder if perhaps I seemed a little eager with that question.

  ‘Yeah. Wanted to know who you saw on a regular basis, things about your social life,’ she says, dropping a teabag in each mug.

  ‘Weird,’ I say, trying to sound unperturbed. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘What could I say? Only that you don’t really go out all that much. Don’t really see anyone regularly.’

  This unsettles me a bit. I know she’s telling the truth, but hearing it makes me a little uneasy. She’s right – I’ve pretty much abandoned most of my friends in the quest for a happy family life. Funny thing is, it hasn’t even worked. My daughter’s been kidnapped by some psychopath and I’m trying to think of ways to murder my wife. Happy families.

  ‘What did she want to say to you?’ Tasha asks, pouring boiling water on the teabags.

  ‘Oh, apparently one of her officers saw me popping into a pub,’ I say. The first rule of lying is to tell the absolute truth right up to the bit you don’t want the other person to know. That way, you’ve got less bullshit to remember and stick to. ‘I had to get out for a bit and I went over the other side of town for a change of scenery. She thought it was a bit odd, which I suppose it was, so wanted to know why I was there.’

  ‘Christ, what business is it of hers?’ Tasha asks. I’m unsure as to whether she’s being serious or if she’s playing the same game as McKenna.

  First rule of lying again. ‘Well, I suppose she’s going to have her suspicions. Whichever way you look at it, on paper I’ve got to be their prime suspect. Statistically speaking, one or both of the parents are usually involved when it comes to kids disappearing like this.’

  ‘Don’t look at me,’ she replies, without even bothering to see if I’m looking at her. ‘I was on my way to work. I’ve got an alibi.’ Again, I don’t know if she’s doing it on purpose or if she’s just completely oblivious to her subtext.

  ‘Alibi?’ I ask. ‘What do you mean, alibi? You’re starting to sound like you’re in a police interview.’

  ‘Don’t start, Nick,’ she says. ‘You know damn well what I meant.’

  ‘Yeah. Well, I thought I had one until that fucker over the road decided to lie to the police.’

  ‘Why would he do that, Nick?’ Tasha asks, turning to face me with one hand on her hip. Now I know she’s more than aware of what she’s doing.

  ‘I don’t know. I really don’t know. I’ve been trying to think of what I could possibly have done to upset him, but I just can’t. I mean, I guess it’s possib
le that he didn’t see anything, but I can’t imagine for one second that the day Ellie went missing was the first day he hadn’t been spying out of his window.’

  ‘Do you really think he’s involved somehow?’ Tasha says after a few seconds’ silence.

  ‘I hope not,’ I reply. ‘I dunno. Yeah, he’s a bit weird, but if he was a child abductor don’t you think something would’ve been done by now? Like McKenna said, his record’s clean. Yes, unlike mine, before you say it.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to,’ she lies.

  There’s a good twenty seconds or so of complete silence, in which I decide to root around in the cupboards for a biscuit. What’s left unsaid is louder than anything that could be spoken, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be the first one to say anything.

  40

  Nick

  I don’t fancy another day of moping around the house, but I do want to see if my post on the dark web has had any replies, so I decide to head round to Alan’s. McKenna will know – somehow – but I don’t think it’d be unreasonable to argue that even the most unsociable of people would want to seek comfort in the arms of friends when their daughter has gone missing.

  When I get to Alan’s, I see he’s left the laptop on the same spot on the dining table, untouched. This doesn’t surprise me; Alan’s a trustworthy kind of guy, and he’s not the sort of person to get much use out of his dining table, anyway, judging by the empty drinks cans and ready-meal packages stacked up on his kitchen work surface.

  I open the laptop and wait for it to boot up before loading the Tor browser and navigating my way to the site. It seems to take an age, but I know I’m just being impatient. I log in and see a (1) next to my username. I presume this is the number of responses I’ve had. Better than nothing, though. I click the (1) and the response pops up on the screen.