We are delighted to welcome back author Alex Clare to Omnimystery News today.
Earlier this week we spoke with Alex about her new mystery He's Gone (Impress Books; August 2016 trade paperback) and we asked if we might share an excerpt with our readers, to which she graciously agreed. Here is the fourth chapter.
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ROBYN SAT WITH PHIL AND CHLOE in a corner of the shopping centre's staff room.
'A right shambles, ah, ma'am.' Phil flicked back pages in his notebook. 'There are supposed to be three security staff on duty at any one time. Gillian was in the chemist's when the lad went missing. She had a look up and down but the boy had gone. The pharmacist pushed his emergency button at eight thirty-eight. The only guard actually working was removing a rough sleeper and didn't get there for another ten minutes.'
'That's when I heard Gillian yelling and assumed she was a shoplifter.' Chloe had her feet up on the chair, arms wrapped around her knees. 'I went over to see if I could help the security guy.'
Graham slipped in, holding a disc and settled on the sofa next to
Robyn.
'We got a couple of cars here before nine.' Phil pointed to his notes.
'Chloe had got both sets of doors shut but it was too late. Nothing was going out on the tannoy because the guy on the ground was Polish and the one in the office was Greek.' He paused, as if expecting a reaction. 'Barely speak English between them —'
Chloe cut across him. 'And all this time, Gillian was just left outside the chemist's. She didn't want to leave in case Ben came back.'
Phil's eyes narrowed. 'As I was saying, the office didn't help and no one wanted to disturb the manager because she was on the phone to a potential tenant.'
A locker was banged shut: Robyn shifted on the hard sofa. 'Thanks, Phil. Got the CCTV, Graham?'
Graham scowled. 'Yeah. Don't get your hopes up though. Nothing but blue sky from the cameras at the Riverside end because they were out of position but …' He held up a disk. 'We've picked up Gillian and Ben at the Northbank entrance.'
A constable hurried in. 'Sir, we've got something from the shop-to-shop.' Robyn gritted her teeth, until she realised the woman was addressing Phil.
The officer handed Phil a camera. 'The photography shop said someone was taking pictures with this in the aisle about the time the boy went missing.'
Phil's big fingers jabbed at buttons as he squinted down at the small screen. 'There's nothing here.' He held out the camera to Robyn. 'Just blurs.'
Robyn scrolled through the six images: the text of a fast-food sign, litter amongst the plastic flowers, a couple holding hands. 'He's testing the camera's features.' She scrolled through them again: a girl sucking on a straw; the support struts of the roof; a mannequin in a first-floor window, fuzzy figures below. Zooming in, one of the blurs resolved itself into two distinct shapes. 'Here! Look at this.' Robyn held the screen so that everyone could see. 'Can we blow this one up?'
'If you think it'll help, ma'am.' Phil hauled himself to his feet. Robyn made a larger-than-needed gesture to check her watch, impatience growing at the lack of urgency. 'It's five to ten. The child's been missing an hour and a half. We'll need an all-ports alert and extend the searches into town.' She bit her lip, tasting lipstick. 'Phil, can you get on with that? I need to arrange a press briefing.' She stood up. 'Anything else? Oh, has the loading bay been searched?'
'Of course it has. Ma'am. We've searched the whole place. Teams are in the High Street and Victoria Park now. More units are on their way to cover the rest of town.'
Dealing with Phil had always been hard work. 'Thanks, Phil.' Robyn turned to Chloe. 'Good work today. Lucky you were there.'
Chloe lifted her elbow from the table, then screwed up her face and began scrubbing something sticky off her skin. 'Not lucky enough, though. Guess I should go back to the station — they might need me for searches.' She stood up.
As she towered over Chloe, Robyn was struck by how ridiculous she must appear in comparison. Chloe hesitated a moment then turned to go, grabbing her bag from the sofa.
Robyn suddenly realised she didn't know where her own handbag was. Her phone was in it and she needed to call Fell. There were a few panicky seconds before she worked out she hadn't picked it up from the car.
'Graham, can I borrow your phone?' She found her hands were flapping and went to put them in her pockets, before giving up and clasping them behind her. 'I left my handbag in the car.'
Graham pressed his lips together but held out his phone. Robyn turned away to make the call, nearly bumping into a plump woman in a yellow uniform who gave her a look of curiosity and suspicion.
'Superintendent Fell's office.'
'Hello, Tracey. It's Robyn.'
'Robyn.' Tracey seemed to roll the name around her mouth, as if tasting it. 'Welcome back.'
'Thanks.' There was a constant crackly hum. 'Can you hear me?'
'Just about — it's an awful line.'
'I wanted to update Fell on the missing boy as it looks like an abduction. We'll need to get an appeal out as soon as possible. Could you organise one here at the shopping centre as soon as possible?'
'Let's see. Ten o'clock now — I'll arrange the session for eleven to give enough notice for a reasonable show.'
'Thanks. We'll have finished interviewing here by then.'
'Anything else you need?'
'We'll need some bodies to answer phones.'
'I'll get a team together. Oh and the superintendent would like to see you sometime this afternoon.'
Robyn shut her eyes for a second. Of course he would. Just a routine, she would have to get used to now that DCI Golding had been signed off sick again. Fell needed an update, nothing to worry about.
'OK, Tracey. Thanks.' As she finished the call, the phone rang. 'Hi, Ravi.'
'Oh? Hello, Guv. I tried to calling you and just got voicemail. I've got the info you wanted on Ben.'
'Go ahead.'
'Well, he's not known to Social Services. There's no father listed on his birth certificate, just his mother. Her name's Melissa Chivers, no record, one speeding fine — I've sent a text with her address. She also made a complaint about someone threatening her, three months ago: Janice investigated.'
'Interesting. Anything else?' The woman in the yellow uniform said something into her own phone and shrieked with laughter. Robyn changed the phone to her other ear.
'Yeah, one other thing, Guv: there's a lot online about this case.'
'What's being said?'
'CCTV from Whitecourt has been posted to YouTube. It seems to be Ben just before he goes missing and it's got thousands of hits already.'
'What?' Someone had seen Ben disappear and done nothing. Her angry gesture got Graham's attention. 'Hang on, Ravi …' 'Graham, someone's put a CCTV clip from here on the internet — can you find out what the hell they saw and why they didn't tell us first time?' Graham scowled, nodded and left. '… sorry, Ravi. Can you keep a watch for anything else online? Tracey's rounding up a squad to answer phones so can you and Janice get the office organised? OK, thanks. Bye.'
Five minutes before the briefing was due to start, Robyn returned to the office suite and stood on the first floor landing, desperate for the loo. There were voices coming from the women's changing room. She hesitated, then ducked into the men's toilet, grateful to find the cubicle free, before fleeing upstairs, face burning because she couldn't face the possible confrontation.
The press were already crowded into the staff room with no sign of Graham. Robyn scanned the faces as people settled themselves on the mismatched chairs. There were representatives from the local weekly paper, the regional daily and a couple Robyn didn't recognise, who had the polished look of TV people, confirmed when they set up a small camera. Everyone seemed to be taking pictures of her. She hoped they were just checking light levels.
Graham slid in, holding another disc. 'I've got the extra CCTV footage, Guv. The little twerp in security admitted he was having a fag when Ben went missing. When someone told him what'd happened, he checked the footage, then posted the clip "so people would spread the word". Thought he was being a bloody hero.' He pulled a face.
Robyn shook her head then scanned the room again. They couldn't wait any longer, even though she'd been expecting to see Ady Clarke, from the Meresbourne Gazette. Everyone was taking a good look at her and who knew what they were thinking.
'Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming. I'm DI Robyn
Bailley.' The sudden flurry of scribbling didn't help her composure.
'This briefing is to ask for your help in finding Ben Chivers who went missing from this shopping centre two and a half hours ago.' Robyn held up the photo of Ben in his school sweatshirt and tried not to blink in the flashes. 'Ben is nearly two years old, of mixed race. We'll show you evidence that this was a deliberate snatch so we need everyone in Meresbourne and the villages to be vigilant and report anything suspicious.'
Ady had appeared and was now watching with the rest. Robyn wondered whether he could imagine them now going for the pint they'd talked about a few times. Another person who should have been told beforehand. It was a relief when she was able to stop talking and show the CCTV. From high up in the pharmacy, they watched Gillian and Ben walk in: the door was propped open. All that could be seen of the pharmacist was the dome of his bald head as he faced Gillian. Ben approached her once, the angle making him disappear behind the counter. Gillian looked down, her stiff gesture making the lost words unnecessary. Ben wandered back into view, moving to the doorway, looking out, his backpack a lighter square on his dark sweatshirt. He turned back for a few seconds but Gillian was still talking. There was a collective sigh from the watchers as the boy toddled out of the top of the screen.
Graham loaded the centre's CCTV, just five frames. The grainy blob that was Ben stood alone in a patch of empty floor. Next shot, four lads, all caps and loud logos, were occupying half the frame, one pushing another, Ben just visible behind them. Then the screen was full, a crowd of teenagers, girls and boys, mouths open, laughing or jeering. In the fourth shot, the first of the group were already out of the top corner, half a screen of empty floor behind them. Finally, only two remained, almost out of shot, empty space where Ben had been. Robyn finished with the blurred image from the camera shop, blown up as large as they could make it. The digital display showed eight thirty-four. Two shapes, joined in the middle, walked away from the camera, a small one in red and a larger, yellow one. Ben was being led away by a figure in a long, patterned frock.
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Photo provided courtesy of
Alex Clare
After nearly twenty years of being a committed corporate person, Alex Clare was made redundant. She had always enjoyed writing, studying fiction part-time through the Open University and managing to complete a novel in her commuting time, though no one had ever read it. Now, with lots more time on her hands, there was the opportunity to take writing more seriously. She began to enter competitions and joined a writing group, which encouraged her to try out new genres and styles. After a period focusing on short stories, she wanted to try another novel. Inspiration came from watching Parliament debate the Equal Marriage Act in 2013. Astounded by the intensity of feeling generated, she created a fictional world to explore some of the issues and attitudes. Now working again she is working on her second novel, in her usual place, on a London commuter train.
For more information about the author, please visit her author page on Goodreads, or find her on Facebook and Twitter.
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He's Gone by Alex Clare
A Novel of Suspense
Publisher: Impress Books
When Detective Inspector Roger Bailley returns to work as Robyn, all she wants is to get on with the job she loves. But when toddler Ben Chivers is snatched from a shopping centre on Robyn's first day, she has to find Ben — and herself — as she deals with the reactions of her police colleagues, the media and her own daughter.
How do you find a missing child when his mother doesn't believe you have the right to exist?
— He's Gone by Alex Clare
