Swales, who apparently helped Emma and had acted as a go-between for Emma and her father the second time she went missing. Gardner interviewed him and ruled him out.’
‘Well, I suggest you speak to him yourself,’ Routledge said and Freeman thought, no shit .
‘The other was Lucas Yates – Emma’s ex-boyfriend and from what I read, a real charmer. Gardner spoke to Yates but nothing came of it and as far as I can tell, he was convinced the pair had run off together, despite what Ray Thorley thought.’
‘Which was?’
‘That she wouldn’t go anywhere near Yates. And I have to say I agree with her dad.’
‘Why? She disappeared with him the first time, didn’t she? She was a smackhead, wasn’t she?’
Freeman counted to five. She didn’t have time for ten. And she didn’t have time to stand there explaining things to Routledge. She hated the way half of her colleagues seemed to see addicts as second-class citizens. It seemed that no one gave a shit about Emma Thorley – then or now.
‘Despite Emma’s problems with drugs, she was never actually in trouble with the police. The only records we have are her missing person reports. Whereas Yates is a scumbag. He’s a known dealer. Been arrested dozens of times. Drugs, assault, burglary, sexual assault, stealing cars, driving without a licence, without insurance—’
‘I get it. He’s quite the Renaissance man.’
‘He finally went to prison in 2000, seven years. But there’s been nothing on him since he was released.’
‘Maybe he found Jesus,’ Routledge said.
‘Maybe,’ replied Freeman. ‘But either way I really want to speak to him.’
‘Fine. But as we don’t even know if it is this Thorley girl yet, just tread lightly.’
‘I always do,’ Freeman said and closed the door before he could respond.
Chapter 8
9 February 1999
Emma listened as Jenny and the others shouted at a couple of pensioners across the street. The woman kept her head down but the man shook his walking stick in their direction, telling them they should be ashamed of themselves. Emma turned her face away but it only egged the others on. All except Lucas. Lucas was quiet. Watching. Watching her. She could feel his eyes on her, heavy and possessive. It made her feel safe.
She hated the rest of them, hated that the only reason they seemed to have for getting up in the morning – or more likely, lunchtime – was to make other people’s lives hell. That was all they did. That and the drugs. She hadn’t tried anything yet, despite their taunts. Despite Lucas’s offers to make her feel good, to help her forget all the other shit. She’d been tempted but that was all. She had more willpower than to just give in to it.
She sometimes wondered what she was doing there, with them. The kind of people she would’ve crossed the street to avoid before. People she would’ve looked down on. But that was before. And was it really better to be sitting at home, watching her dad weep? Sitting in school, trying to ignore the pitying stares? Sitting alone in her room, wondering why her mam had left her alone.
‘Catch.’ Someone threw a can at Lucas. He opened it and took a swig before offering it to her. The sour smell of cheap, warm lager made her stomach turn. She shook her head and Lucas shrugged, downing the rest of the can before crushing it and throwing it over the wall they were leaning against.
Emma looked across the road and saw someone staring. Her face reddened as she realised it was Diane. She’d been ignoring her calls. Couldn’t bear to talk to her any more. She still had a mother, she didn’t understand.
‘What’s up?’ Lucas said, turning her to look at him.
‘Nothing,’ she said and looked into his eyes. Sometimes she couldn’t believe he’d chosen her. He could’ve had anyone but he wanted her. He made her feel special. If only the rest of them didn’t come as part of the package, she could be happy. If it were just the two of them she