A Question of Despair by Maureen Carter Read Free Book Online

then . . . what? Where did they go, what did they do?
    She tightened the belt on her black trench coat, sank hands deep into the pockets. She wasn’t fanciful enough to think the site would give away its secrets. She just wanted to be there, to stand in the same place, to get a feeling of something she couldn’t even put into words.
    She felt a profound pity. For Evie Lowe, surely. And, perhaps, for the unknown lives of the unseen families whose homes were now reduced to scattered bits of rubble and dust. Is this what it all comes to? Sarah, come on. She shrugged off the maudlin thoughts. Wondered what was the matter with her?
    â€˜Have they found her then, love?’ An old woman in a purple mac and plastic rain hat stood at Sarah’s shoulder, her narrowed gaze focused on the forensic team, obviously unaware she was talking to a cop.
    â€˜No, not yet.’ Sarah wasn’t going to enlighten her.
    She sniffed loudly. ‘I’ve told my daughter not to let her kids out a’ sight till they catch the bugger. Not that she would. Well, you don’t, do you? Asking for trouble, wasn’t she, the mother?’
    Interest piqued, Sarah turned. ‘Do you know the mother?’ The woman’s skin was like deeply lined newspaper left in the sun. The jaw movement suggested dentures that didn’t fit.
    â€˜Nah. Stands to reason though. What sort of mum . . . ?’
    â€˜I have to go, excuse me.’ Even if one of the FSI guys wasn’t heading over, she couldn’t be doing with ignorant tittle-tattle. Walking to meet him though, she reckoned if the old woman’s thoughts were typical, that the viewing public had already made up its mind about Karen Lowe’s parenting skills. So much for the news coverage Baker was keen to encourage. And Caroline King happy to slant.
    Closer now she recognized the lean good looks of FSI lead manager, Ben Cooper. ‘How’s it going, Ben?’
    â€˜Done as much as we can here.’ He swept a heavy straw-coloured fringe out of chestnut eyes. ‘Seems clean, but we’ll take a closer look back at the lab. Mind the rain won’t have helped.’ She hid her disappointment but wasn’t entirely surprised. ‘I’ll give you a bell if anything turns up, inspector.’
    â€˜Appreciate it, thanks.’ Head down she made her way back to the car. The heavy downpour overnight would likely have washed away any liftable trace evidence. Assuming any had been left. She had her doubts. Given it was now eighteen hours since the baby had been seen last, the abductor was either in luck or knew enough to leave nothing to chance. Either way, they were still desperate for a lead.
    Family liaison officer Jess Parry opened the door at Karen’s first-floor flat. Pretty and trim, with sleek chin-length auburn hair, she looked a fair bit younger than mid-forties. Her smile was the first Sarah could recall seeing since the inquiry began.
    â€˜How goes it, inspector. Any . . . ?’
    â€˜Where’s Karen?’
    â€˜In the sitting room. Why?’ Smile faded, Jess placed a hand on the side of her face; her anxious gaze searched Sarah’s.
    Voice lowered, she told her they’d found the pushchair and some of Evie’s clothes but there was still no sign of the baby. Jess shook her head, folded her arms. ‘God knows what that’ll do to Karen.’
    â€˜How is she?’
    â€˜Quiet. She talked about Evie for hours last night. She’s saying very little about anything right now. Mind, she must be shattered. I couldn’t get her to go to bed, so we sat up most of the night, chatting, drinking tea.’
    Typical Jess, Sarah thought. She’d served with the police fifteen years, FLO for eight. She was in a career where cynicism ruled and cutting remarks often mistaken for sharp intellect. Jess had never bought into the culture, but was more than capable of holding her own in