James felt a mixture of emotions as he left the prison he was angry as Derek’s initial interview but also excited some of the things Derek had said relating to religion. This man when not locked behind the cold cast iron bars of the prison, believed he was God. In charge and completely brutal in the world of his own creation.
As he walked up the familiar gravel drive way his heart pumped just that little bit faster. He was at the Criters house and delivering the news to a grieving parent that they had not yet found their only child, the only link to his deceased wife. The desperation this poor man must be feeling. James paused slightly before knocking gently on the door.
The familiar childhood smell of whisky permeated the air and washed over his face as the large oak door was opened.
The man stood in front of him was just a disheveled shell of the great man and barrister . He looked washed out pale with large bags and shadows cast over him from lack of sleep or alcohol, James could not tell. “Have you found her?” he asked in a shaky voice eyes welling as he already knew the answer. James shuffled around on the gravel pathway looking down at his feet. Eventually he gazed up and directly into the man’s bloodshot eyes. “Can we go inside there has been some news.”
James teetered on the edge of the vast cream leather sofa. “ Someone broke into my home last night, they left a package. Inside was a note now you know I can’t tell you what it said, but there was something else inside the box.” He paused not knowing whether to tell the grieving man what else there was, not knowing how he would take it. He resolved to break the news. “Mark it was a human hand.”
This last piece of information seemed to tip him over the edge. He broke down sitting curled up in a ball on the carpet grabbed the nearest whisky bottle and stared down at the picture of his daughter. There was such agony in his eyes. His squeaks and silent sniffs penetrating the silent air. Distancing the two men so the small space between the two men seemed like a vast expanse of which neither could cross. Downing the last quarter of the bottle he let out a scream. Like a wounded animal who had been shot through the heart. Without warning Mark launched the now empty bottle. James watched it almost in slow motion spin through the air and shatter into tiny pieces as it hit the wall on the opposite side of the room.
James stood instantly more out of a childhood reaction than anything else. He quickly left the room and began searching the massive newly furnished kitchen looking for something to clear the shards up. It was then he heard the front door slam. James swiftly moved through hall way back into the front room “Mr. Criter?, Mr. Criter? ” He’d gone.
He didn’t know where he was going he was angry. Where is my little girl? He kept saying over and over again in his head scrutinizing every word of the sentence not wanting to imagine the answer. He knew he was supposed to stay in the house. Incase someone made contact, incase his baby came home. Without warning the tears started again he pulled the car over and stared out of the windscreen. He couldn’t move, couldn’t think the grief he was feeling overwhelmed his entire body and he was unable to do anything but stare at the horizon and let the warm tears trickle down his face. He sat there for what seemed an eternity. His thoughts a jumble in his head. Emotions a mixture of depression and anger. He was stuck in limbo what should he do, turn around and go back to look at those same four walls for how long? Or run away try and clear his head? The kidnappers had sent a hand. Her hand? Or just a threat? Why was this happening? All he wanted was his little girl back. He vowed to himself never to lose his temper with her again. Was all this somehow his fault? So many questions and he knew the answer to none of them.
The knock on the window cut his thoughts immediately. The sudden noise had made him jump and the tears stopped coming. He slowly turned his head to the side and stared and the man who had brought him nothing but despair since day one, but he was still his only savior. Reluctantly he unlocked the door. “Thought I’d find you here.” James looked out the windows looking blankly at Anna’s school. It seemed like a lifetime ago they were here interviewing her friends. So much had filled the last twenty-four hours. Another phone call. James looked at the number it was the DCI. He sighed heavily and decided now was not the right time to ignore the guv. “Mark I will be right back can I have the car keys?” Mark slowly reached the ignition and took out the keys and reluctantly put the keys into James’ outstretched hand. Hitting the answer button just in time James closed the car door. “Hello”
“James we have just had the forensics back on the hand.” he sounded terse and spoke slowly. James crossed his fingers hoping for the best. “Its not her, its not the girls.” James breathed a sigh of relief but then suddenly tensed did this mean they were looking for two live victims? “Was the hand taken from a live victim?”
“Initial reports say we are now looking for two live victims the hand was cut off a live body of a female average age places it at about twenty-four years old possible drug taker.”
“I’m with Mr. Criter now I’ll let him know the good news. Thanks guv’.” With that he terminated the call and got back into the car hoping that the new information would calm the hysterical man in the seat next to him down.
“Mark the hand, its not Anna’s. Did you hear me? Its not her.” You could almost see the relief wash over him. A visible sheet taking away the pain for just a few seconds. Giving a glimer of hope that he could get his daughter back unharmed. “What about next time Inspector? What if next time it is?”
“There won’t be a next time.” James said hoping he wasn’t. wrong.
“You can’t know that for sue. I appriciate your doing your best though. Please just get my baby home safe. I think its best if you drive me home.” He gave a weak smile and climbed out of the drivers seat.
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