Chapter 10

One evening midweek, the telephone rang. I didn’t bother to answer it since it was never for me.

“Mitch, it’s Shona for you,” summoned Mum.

I raced to the phone and picked it up.

“Funny, I thought Justine was your girlfriend,” said Mum. “I hope you’re not stringing anyone along.”

“Mu-u-um!” I protested, aware of the incandescence of my face, but she just chuckled and went back to the lounge, shutting the door behind her.

“Hi Shona,” I said.

“So Justine’s your girlfriend and you’re just stringing me along,” said Shona.

“No, it’s not like that,” I spluttered.

“Relax, Elize told me the score, I was just yanking your chain.”

“Thanks,” I groused. Girls were hard work.

“Can you be outside the Public Library at ten on Saturday morning? Tim’s going to pick us up and drive us to Cathy’s. Her parents are going to London for the day for shopping and a show. Tim’s agreed to be her parental-designated watchdog, but she’s allowed to have one or two friends over. Obviously they’re not expecting you or they would have freaked out.”

“Yes, ten’s fine,” I replied. “What does Tim think about all this?”

“I don’t think Cathy’s told him yet, but he’s a nice guy. I’m sure it will be okay.”

Saturday morning the weather was mercifully benign and I reached the Public Library ten minutes early. Shona was already there.

“Tim’s a fireman. He lives in a flat near the town centre,” Shona volunteered.

“Do you know what sort of car he has?”

“No. I hope he’s got a company vehicle. I’ve always wanted a ride in a fire engine.”

When Tim pulled up beside us, I found that while his car was on the large size, it was bronze rather than red.

“Let me get in the front since I already know him,” said Shona. “That will avoid any awkward silences.”

I had no reason to object, so Shona got in the front and I got in the back. It made sense that Tim was a fireman: he was huge. I could easily imagine him actually climbing up a ladder carrying a person over each shoulder.

“I’m Tim. Pleased to meet you,” said Tim, turning round in his seat so he could offer me his hand.

“Call me Mitch,” I said, reciprocating, and feeling relieved that Tim didn’t try to crush my hand by way of asserting himself.

As Tim pulled away from the kerb, I realised I didn’t have the faintest idea where Cathy lived.

“So you think you can track down the bastards who hurt my sister,” said Tim.

“Probably not,” I admitted, “but Cathy’s a friend of my sister and I promised I’d try.”

“I don’t want to see her get hurt yet again. You’d better not have given her false hope.”

“Mitch has certain talents,” said Shona, interceding on my behalf. “I don’t know how he did it because he won’t tell, but he tracked down my grandma’s sister.”

“Hmmm,” said Tim.

Fortunately Shona managed to change the subject by asking Tim leading questions about his career and his rugby playing, doubly fortunate because Cathy lived quite a way out of town.

Cathy’s neighbourhood was quiet and the large houses well spaced out so I could see why the perps chose it as a suitable area to snatch a child: the chances of their being witnessed were small. Having said that, I noticed a couple of neighbourhood curtains twitching when Tim parked outside the house. I covered my head with my hoodie before I got out of the car: I didn’t want nosey neighbours to be able to tell Cathy’s parents she’d had a strange boy over while they were out.

Cathy opened the front door as we were walking up the driveway. She was in full war paint that morning. Of Elize’s nerd squad, Cathy paid the most attention to personal grooming and make-up, which was ironic considering her attitude towards men: she was effectively advertising merchandise that was not on offer.

Cathy made sure we were all been furnished with drinks then directed us to sit round the dining table, since I’d warned I wanted to make lots of notes.

“Do you really think you can track down those bastards?” asked Cathy.

“Probably not,” I admitted, “but I promised I’d try.”

“That’s all I can ask,” said Cathy. “And your only payment is my silence?”

“Yours and Tim’s. If we manage to identify the perps and anyone finds out my role, it would put me at great risk.”

Cathy nodded her assent then fixed Tim with a stare. “Um, yes, absolutely,” he agreed.

What do you need to know?” asked Cathy.

“I need to know enough detail to uniquely identify the men.”

We started with the men’s descriptions. Cathy had been scared out of her wits and was unable to recall anything other than vague details. From what little she could tell me about their skin colours, heights, hair colours, eye colours, ages and other distinguishing features, about half a dozen men in my street alone were matches.

I asked Cathy whether she could recall any scars or tattoos or any other identifying features. She couldn’t. She did say they occasionally called each other Pete and Paul, but she was pretty sure those were made-up names because they occasionally stumbled over them.

“Now I come to think of it, because they were physically quite similar and they seemed to co-ordinate their activities well without using names or verbal cues, I think they were probably related,” said Cathy.

I counted that as a small victory, something she hadn’t been able to tell the police at the time.

I know I was scraping the bottom of the barrel but I asked Cathy if she could remember any physical or verbal mannerisms. She thought hard, but eventually had to admit she couldn’t.

I had run out of steam with my questioning when Shona called a timeout. Apparently we’d been at it for nearly ninety minutes. “I’d like to go outside for some fresh air,” she suggested. “I’ll show Mitch your garden.”

Cathy readily agreed. Tim decided to stay with his sister, so Shona and I had the chance to talk candidly while we feigned an interest in Cathy’s parents’ flowerbeds.

“It seems to me like it’s not going so well,” said Shona.

“I’m not finding anything I can use to uniquely identify the men,” I admitted. “It’s not Cathy’s fault. She was a scared little twelve year old girl. Still, it was an astute observation that the perps might be related.”

“So what are you going to do now?”

“I don’t know. I need a different angle. Let me think.”

I don’t know how long I followed Shona silently around the garden while deep in thought, but eventually a strategy formed. I thought it through. It would mean subjecting Cathy to another barrage of questions, but it might just work.

“Okay, I’m ready to resume,” I said. “Are you ready to go back inside?”

“Actually I only suggested this because of you,” said Shona. “You looked like you needed a break.”

“Thanks, that was a good idea.”

Cathy provided us with fresh drinks then we resumed our places at the table.