Little Boy Lost Read online

  ‘Stop pissing about, babe,’ he snapped. ‘You either come with me now or I’m leaving you here.’

  The woman looked down at Chloe with a pitying expression on her face, and said, ‘You’ll be OK. Just get to your feet and move away from this street to a safer place. Then find someone who can help you. I would if I could, but I have to go. I’m really sorry. Good luck, Alice. And take care of yourself.’

  The woman disappeared, leaving Chloe lying on the pavement, her lungs clutching for air, her head spinning.

  She made herself ignore the pain in her head and struggled to get up. As she did so her muscles burned with the effort and tears streamed down her cheeks.

  As soon as she was on her feet, she felt giddy and sick, and her eyes drifted in and out of focus. But once she regained her equilibrium, she was able to start to take in what was going on around her.

  And it was enough to cause the fear to swell up inside her like a big inflated balloon.

  There seemed to be even more angry people on the street, and many of them were standing around the abandoned police car that was now on fire. Others were smashing their way into shops to steal things and anyone who tried to stop them was being threatened or attacked.

  Chloe felt invisible because nobody was paying her any attention. They were all too busy running riot to even notice her. Or if they did see her, they didn’t care that she was so obviously in desperate need of help.

  It meant she would have to look after herself, first by getting away from the violence and then by trying to contact her mum.

  As she started walking again, she realised that lights were coming on because it was getting dark. It made her heart pound even faster and ignited a fire in her belly. She was sure now that she was going to die out here. What was happening was more scary than any story she had ever heard and any film she had ever seen. And it was just as frightening as that day when she left the flat and Bruno Perez grabbed her and pulled her into his van.

  She passed a man who was smashing the windows of a bus shelter. Then two other men who were openly brandishing long, lethal-looking knives.

  Further on she came across a homeless man lying in a doorway, his face and blanket splattered with blood.

  Then a woman rushed past her pushing a shopping trolley with a large TV in it.

  Chloe did not see any more police – it was as though the area had been left to the mercy of the rioters. She’d seen the violence on the television over the past couple of days, but it hadn’t seemed so bad then. She’d been detached from it. Watching from a distance. Secure in the knowledge that it was happening to other people and not to her. But now she was caught up in it and she was petrified beyond belief.

  She came to a corner where looters were ransacking a convenience store. Through the broken windows she saw young men and women feverishly clearing the shelves.

  The street to the right looked to be deserted, but it led nowhere. There was a large open car park on one side of the road and several low, windowless buildings on the other. They looked similar to the factories that were situated close to the flat she used to share with Sophie in Shoreditch. At the far end of the street was a high wall in front of a partially demolished building.

  Chloe turned into the street without hesitation and headed for the car park, which was empty and had very little lighting. She thought it would be a fairly safe place to hide while she worked out what to do next.

  But before entering the car park, she glanced back over her shoulder – and was just in time to spot something that caused her heart to lurch in her chest. Two men wearing hooded jackets were now standing on the pavement outside the convenience store on the corner.

  As Chloe watched, one of them lifted a finger and pointed directly at her. She saw his lips move, but wasn’t close enough to make out what he was saying. But her stomach flipped when she saw his companion break out in a slow, leering grin.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  It turned out to be a relatively uneventful journey to Bromley for Anna and DI Benning. They drove south through Dulwich, Forest Hill and Beckenham. Thankfully the riots hadn’t yet spread to those areas. But traffic remained heavy and it took them close on an hour to get there.

  Benning had phoned ahead to let the family liaison officer know that they were coming. He told her only that they had an update, not that Jacob’s body had been found.

  Mark and Clare Rossi lived in a large detached house close to a park. They’d moved in only ten months ago, which was when Jacob had been enrolled in the private prep school nearby.

  Anna felt weighed down by dread as she drew the car to a halt on the driveway. No matter how many times she delivered news of a loved one’s death, it never got any easier.

  The FLO answered the door to them. She was a tall, thin woman and she introduced herself to Anna as Phillipa Moore.

  ‘Jacob’s parents are waiting for you in the living room,’ she said. ‘You should know that they’re fearing the worst because I haven’t been able to tell them what you’ve got to say.’

  ‘Well it’s not good news, I’m afraid,’ Anna said.

  Moore nodded. ‘That’s what I thought.’

  On the inside the house was modern and spacious, with light-coloured walls and carpets. One of the first things to catch Anna’s eye was a framed photo of Jacob on a table in the hallway. He was wearing a football kit and giving a thumbs-up to the camera.

  His parents were sitting next to each other on a long white sofa in the living room. They were facing a wall-mounted TV that had been muted while tuned to a news programme showing footage of the riots. Another white sofa was positioned at an angle to it and behind that patio doors provided access to the rear garden.

  Mark Rossi stood up as Anna and Benning entered the room. He was wearing an open-necked shirt and jeans, and his face was pale and unshaven. He seemed a shadow of the man she had seen so many times on the television. Anna knew he was in his mid-forties but he looked much older here in front of her, which was understandable in the circumstances.

  He switched his gaze between the two detectives and panic flashed across his features.

  ‘So what’s happened?’ he said, anxiety rattling in his voice. ‘Have you got news about Jacob?’

  ‘Can I suggest that you sit back down, Mr Rossi, and I’ll explain everything?’ Anna said. ‘I’m Detective Chief Inspector Tate and I’m now leading this investigation.’

  Rossi opened his mouth to reply but his wife beat him to it.

  ‘Does it mean you’ve found our boy?’ she said, her voice wavering with emotion. ‘Is that it?’

  Mrs Rossi spoke while remaining seated, her back ramrod stiff, her hands tightly balled together in her lap.

  She was a slight woman about the same age as her husband, with short curly blonde hair and a narrow face. Her eyes were glassy with shock and exhaustion, and Anna wondered how much sleep, if any, she’d had since Monday night.

  After an awkward pause, Anna cleared her throat and bit down on her bottom lip. There was no easy way to say what she needed to say so she decided just to come right out with it.

  ‘I’m really sorry to have to tell you both that your son is no longer alive. His body was found a few hours ago. We got here as quickly as we could to inform you.’

  Clare let out a shrill cry of anguish and dropped her face into her hands. Her husband screwed up his face and said, ‘Are you sure it’s him? Please tell me it could be a mistake.’

  Anna shook her head. ‘You’ll be asked to make a formal identification, Mr Rossi, but I can assure you that it isn’t a mistake. If there was any doubt I would tell you. The boy who’s been found is definitely your son. A blazer with his name in it was near to his body.’

  Rossi started crying then, great wet sobs racking his body. He dropped back onto the sofa and put an arm around his wife.

  Their suffering was palpable, and Anna knew it would intensify after she told them how and where Jacob had died.

  The FLO hurriedly lef
t the room, saying she was going to put the kettle on, and Anna was certain she saw tears in the woman’s eyes.

  It didn’t surprise her, though, because she felt like crying herself, and if she’d been alone she probably would have.

  Instead, she sat down on the other sofa and Benning sat next to her. His breath sounded laboured suddenly and his hands shook. It was as though the guilt he felt had reared up to consume him. Anna had seen it before with other detectives who believed they had badly let down victims of crime. One thing they all had in common was that they always found it hard, or in some cases impossible, to forgive themselves.

  It took Rossi almost a full minute to regain control of his emotions. As his wife continued to sob into her hands, he wiped his tears with his sleeve and looked at Anna. Red veins laced the whites of his eyes and the lines across his forehead were more pronounced.

  ‘We need to know what happened,’ he said. ‘Was Jacob in an accident? Did someone hurt him?’

  An image of their son chained up by his wrists in the cellar resurfaced in Anna’s mind, sending an icy flush through her veins.

  She swallowed back the lump in her throat, and said, ‘It saddens me to have to tell you this, Mr Rossi, but your son died this afternoon from smoke inhalation while trapped inside a derelict building that was set on fire by rioters. Whoever was responsible for the fire almost certainly wouldn’t have known he was inside.’

  Clare Rossi’s head shot up and the shock was evident in her expression.

  ‘Are you saying that our son was alive all this time?’ she sobbed.

  Anna nodded. ‘He was indeed, Mrs Rossi.’

  The woman turned her gaze on Benning and her features hardened.

  ‘So why the hell didn’t you find him? You told us that you would. You promised.’

  ‘There’s a reason that DI Benning’s team were unable to locate Jacob,’ Anna said. ‘The person or persons who abducted your son went to great lengths to ensure he wouldn’t be found.’

  Clare frowned. ‘What do you mean? Where has he been since Monday?’

  There were times when Anna wished she hadn’t followed in her late father’s footsteps and become a copper. And this was one of them.

  She pushed back her shoulders, drew in a breath, and said, ‘The building Jacob was found in is in Camberwell and it used to be a pub. It’s been derelict for some years. It appears that Jacob was taken straight there after he was abducted on his way home from school. And he remained there until today. If it wasn’t for the riots he would probably still be alive.’

  ‘But who would do such a thing?’ Rossi said. ‘And why didn’t anyone know he was there? Surely someone would have seen or heard him crying out.’

  ‘We have no idea at this stage why he was taken there,’ Anna told them. ‘However, we do know why nobody came across him and why he couldn’t escape. But you really need to brace yourselves for what I’m about to …’

  ‘Oh, just get on with it, Detective,’ Rossi cut in. ‘I’m sure there’s nothing else you can say that will make us feel any worse than we do already.’

  Anna knew that he was wrong on that score, but she also knew that they had a right to know the full story. And better they heard it from her before it was in the public domain.

  She left it a beat and then spoke in a low, sympathetic voice. ‘I’m afraid your son was being held in the pub cellar. And he was chained to a wall. When the building went up in flames the smoke deprived him of oxygen. His body was discovered by fire officers after they put the blaze out and went into the building.’

  The couple reacted in different ways to the gruesome revelation. Rossi lifted his head, squeezed his eyes shut, and screamed something unintelligible at the ceiling.

  But his wife made not the slightest sound as her eyes rolled upwards in their sockets and she slumped forward onto the floor where she promptly passed out.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  The car park was enclosed by a brick wall about six feet high. There was a strip of grass with trees and bushes in front of it, and this was beyond the reach of what little lighting there was.

  Chloe was hiding behind one of the bushes that lay directly opposite the entrance, which also served as the exit. It was from there that she was watching through the branches as the two men in hooded coats stood talking to each other beneath one of the lampposts.

  Instinct told her they were up to no good. Why else would they have followed her onto an empty car park?

  She’d had a bad feeling about the pair since spotting them outside the convenience store on the corner. It was creepy the way one of them had pointed at her, which had prompted the other one to grin.

  They were close enough for her to see their faces. Both were white, and one of them had a beard. She always found it hard to judge a person’s age, but she reckoned they were at least twice as old as she was, which put them in their twenties.

  The one with the beard was tall, with wide shoulders. His mate was shorter and fatter, and wearing glasses.

  Chloe’s bottom lip quivered as the fear spiralled through her. Just because she was only twelve it didn’t mean she was naïve. She knew how easy it was for a girl to fall prey to rapists and perverts. It was something her friends at school had talked about a lot and there were always horrible stories on the news and the internet.

  She’d already had her own close shave with Bruno Perez, who had threatened to harm her. But it turned out that he’d never actually intended to and had kidnapped her only to get to Sophie. Chloe feared that if these two men got their hands on her she wouldn’t be so lucky.

  She could see them looking around, peering into the shadows while exchanging words. Suddenly the tall one pulled down his hood, cupped his hands around his mouth, and shouted, ‘There’s no need to be scared, little lady. We saw you come in here so we’re worried that you might be lost and all this violence is freaking you out. Let us help you. Come out from wherever you’re hiding and we’ll make sure you get home safely.’

  There was a moment, just a moment, when she was tempted to believe him. It would have been so easy to do so. But one thing she had learned in the past few months was never to trust anybody, not even those closest to you.

  The problem was she was trapped. To get out of the car park she would have to break cover and run towards the road. And there was a good chance they would catch her.

  It was also highly likely they would spot her if she stayed put. The bushes and trees were spread out and not very thick. If she moved, even a short distance, she’d be sure to draw their attention.

  She knew that screaming for help would be a waste of time. Nobody except the two men would hear her. There was so much noise still: burglar alarms were going off in nearby streets, sirens were blaring, dogs were barking, and it seemed as though thousands of people were yelling at the same time.

  Silent tears drained from her eyes and acid burned in her stomach. The swelling on her forehead was throbbing so much it was forcing her eyes into narrow slits. She felt as though some invisible being had grabbed hold of her body and was shaking it.

  As warm liquid ran down her legs, Chloe realised she’d wet herself. It seemed like her bladder was shedding gallons of pee. She had never lost control like that before and it served to heighten her sense of helplessness.

  She started mouthing a silent prayer, begging God to come to her rescue. But it was cut short when the bearded man shouted again, and this time the tone of his voice was nasty rather than nice.

  ‘Listen to me, little lady. We’re only trying to help so we don’t appreciate being fucked around. If you don’t want our help then come out from behind whichever tree or bush you’re hiding behind and tell us. Otherwise you’re really gonna piss us off and that won’t be good for you.’

  So she’d been right to trust her instincts. These men did not have good intentions. While other people were taking advantage of the riots to steal things and cause damage, these two wanted to seize the opportunity to commit a differe
nt type of crime, with her as the victim.

  The icy fear was now flooding her entire body and making her flesh tingle. She held her breath and closed her eyes as she pleaded again for God’s help. She felt desperation crashing over her like waves and struggled to control her thoughts. When she opened her eyes again, she was shocked to see that the car park was now empty. And there was no sign of her two stalkers.

  Chloe couldn’t believe it. God had answered her prayers, and while her eyes were closed had made the men go away. It was nothing short of a miracle.

  She breathed a huge sigh of relief and slowly stood up behind the bush to get a better view of the car park.

  The pair were nowhere to be seen. They must have dashed out through the exit and were probably already stalking another victim.

  Her thoughts turned to what she should do now. It no longer seemed like such a good idea to stay hidden behind the bush. She was a safe distance from the violence all right, but she couldn’t be sure that the two men wouldn’t come back. Plus, the cold was already penetrating her body, and if she didn’t keep moving it would soon become unbearable.

  She looked out beyond the car park. The road was empty, but in the distance she could see flames reaching into the sky from a burning building. And there was no let-up in the level of noise. The sound of sirens persisted and she could hear what she took to be the thumping of a helicopter flying above the city.

  She made up her mind to leave the car park and go in search of someone who could help her, preferably a police officer who’d be able to contact her mum either by phone or police radio.

  She wondered if her mum was even aware that she wasn’t at Tom’s house, and that Tom had been beaten up and might well be dead. Or did she think they were both safe because what took place outside the house hadn’t been reported to the police?

  The vision of how Tom was bundled onto the bonnet of his car and driven away raged in Chloe’s mind. It wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t come over to take care of her. For that reason she felt partly responsible, and also guilty for having harboured negative feelings about him during the past month. She told herself she would be nice to him from now on, assuming they both got through this.