‘It would have to have been a small someone,’ Joe said, a curious frown crossing his face.
‘Kids, most likely,’ Kayla commented with a weary sigh. ‘The scenes-of-crime officer’s on his way.’ She looked back to Sarah. ‘He’ll assess any forensic opportunities. Hopefully we’ll come up with something – fingerprints, footwear marks.’
What they actually came up with was nothing. A shiver ran down Sarah’s spine as she surveyed the chaos after the forensics people had left. It was as if a ghost had swept through her home. A poltergeist, she thought with bitter amusement as she dusted a splinter of glass from her beloved photograph.
‘Will they find Mr Whale, Mummy?’ Ollie asked, his little face grave.
‘They might,’ Joe said, walking across to where the little boy sat on the sofa playing listlessly with his Lego, which Joe had painstakingly gathered together. ‘We’ll go shopping at the weekend anyway, shall we?’ Sitting down next to him, he threaded an arm around his small shoulders. ‘See if we can find another toy who needs a warm bed to sleep in at night. What do you think?’
Ollie nodded. ‘One like Bunny?’ he asked, his eyes hopeful as he looked up at Joe.
Sarah’s heart missed a beat. He’d hardly mentioned Bunny since Mr Whale had arrived on the scene.
‘Just like Bunny, sweetheart,’ she said, feeling choked up all over again as she went across to him. ‘We haven’t seen him in a long while, have we?’ He’d actually been tucked away at the back of the top shelf in her wardrobe. He’d been moved – by the intruder, she assumed – but he was still there.
Ollie looked up at her, his huge eyes filled with guilt. ‘He got hurt,’ he whispered.
Sarah held her breath. ‘How did he get hurt, Ollie?’ she asked him carefully.
‘I don’t know.’ His eyes held hers. Sarah could see he was telling the truth. ‘Laura was going to fix him, but then she couldn’t find him.’
Sarah swallowed back a huge lump of guilt of her own. If she hadn’t taken him, Laura most likely would have fixed him, and Ollie need never have been without him. She’d acted impulsively, followed her instinct, but it seemed that yet again, her instinct had been wrong.
An hour later, with Ollie tucked up with his T-Rex dinosaur toy and assurances that Joe was staying over, Sarah joined Joe in the kitchen, where he was making a much-needed coffee after their efforts clearing up. She was grateful for one small mercy: that he was on a day off on his shift rota. Her mum’s house was a fair drive away, but she could have gone there for a couple of nights – although she was reluctant to worry her – or descended on Becky. She would much rather be here with Joe though.
‘Sorry,’ she said, going across to him and sliding her arms around his midriff.
‘For?’ Joe asked.
‘Not sure.’ She rested her head on his shoulder. ‘Everything.’
‘You haven’t done anything,’ he said, turning to face her. ‘But I’m liking the tactile apology nevertheless.’ Smiling, he kissed her softly, which Sarah definitely liked. ‘Okay?’ he checked, easing away to scan her eyes.
‘Better,’ she said, giving him a reassuring smile back.
‘Shall we top these up with a medicinal Cointreau and take them through to the lounge?’ he suggested.
‘Good idea.’ She went to fetch the Cointreau from the cupboard while he collected up the mugs. ‘Why do you think they didn’t find any forensic evidence?’ she asked, looking back at him. ‘I get that whoever did it must have worn gloves, but I thought they might find some footprints or something.’
‘Me too.’ Joe sighed. ‘Some impressions, too, since the possible point of entry overlooks the garden. Could be that they were wearing protective footwear, I suppose.’
Sarah looked at him curiously.
‘The sort the forensics team wear,’ he explained, ‘or hospital staff.’
Her heart lurched. ‘Laura,’ she whispered, hardly daring to look at him. When she did, she saw none of the wary disbelief she’d seen before in his eyes. Instead, his expression was one of guarded apprehension. Did he think it was at least a possibility? ‘She works in a hospice,’ she reminded him. ‘Wouldn’t protective clothing be available there?’
‘Possibly,’ Joe said. He wouldn’t say he thought it was Laura, not outright, not without evidence, but he did think it could be her. She could see it in his eyes.
‘She wouldn’t have needed to climb through a window, Joe. Don’t you see? Steve still has his keys.’
Joe ran a hand over his neck. He didn’t comment, frustratingly.
‘She has the same wallpaper in Ollie’s bedroom as he has here, exactly the same, yet she’s never seen his bedroom.’ Sarah forced the point. ‘She must have been in the house before, mustn’t she? How else could she have known? And who else would have taken his whale, for God’s sake? I’ve no idea why she would, why she would cut the ear off his bloody bunny, but you have to concede it could be her?’
He nodded slowly. ‘I’ll make sure it’s looked into,’ he said. ‘I’ll need to talk to my DS, but I’ll see that she’s spoken to.’
Sarah felt a marginal amount of relief, but … spoken to? What did that mean? ‘Interviewed?’ she asked him.
‘Probably,’ Joe answered vaguely – again – which was infuriating. ‘I can’t go out on a limb, Sarah. It won’t stand,’ he added, clearly reading her exasperated expression. ‘There are official channels I have to go through.’
Sarah drew in a sharp breath and bit hard on her tongue. She knew he would need to talk to his superior. She knew there were channels. But how long would all that take? She couldn’t just leave it, carry on as normal and allow Ollie to go over there. She had to talk to Laura if no one else would. Confront her. She would kill her, and her bloody mother, before she would let any harm come to her child.
Forty-Four
Joe
After speaking to his detective sergeant, who told him what he’d thought she might – that anything he thought he had on Laura Collins was circumstantial – Joe waited for the guy he’d called in to fit locks to Sarah’s windows to finish, and then made sure the house was secured before leaving. He wasn’t sure the extra security, apart from the new lock on the front door, was needed now. What Sarah had said seemed far-fetched, but it was feasible. Laura was a damaged individual, that much was clear. The question was, how damaged? He couldn’t verify it without access to her medical records, but as sleepwalking affected only a small percentage of adults, he was assuming it was late-onset, possibly the stammer too, both brought on by emotional trauma when her brother disappeared. He felt sorry for her. He truly had thought Sarah was obsessing about her initially, that she might have been jealous, even unconsciously – she and Steve had had a child together; he’d guessed that the ties wouldn’t be easily cut. He didn’t think that now. Sarah was frightened, with good reason. He couldn’t be sure the break-in had been anything to do with Laura, but if it was, seeing Sarah’s house viciously trashed, the ear sliced off the toy she’d shown him, then Laura’s problems had to run deeper than post-traumatic syndrome.