Page 45 of Stolen Ones
He tipped his head. ‘I’m sure I read somewhere that she was now an architect. Is that correct?’
Again, Kim said nothing.
‘Unbelievable, isn’t it? That someone can experience an event in their life so unsettling and for it to have no impact on them in later life. In fact, one could even wonder if the experience was a positive one that—’
‘She was ripped from her family and held captive for a year,’ Kim said, unable to listen to his twisted perspective.
‘I wonder if that’s how she remembers it?’ he said, tipping his head.
Kim took a moment to reflect over the things he’d said. There was nothing that he couldn’t have got from the media outlets at the time. There was nothing specific to tie him to the crime. He was an intelligent man, and his answers were well rehearsed.
‘I would imagine it was a staycation for Libby Turner two years later too, wasn’t it? I’ve got a feeling you read a lot about her too?’
Kim was coming to realise that he couldn’t hide the small bursts of triumph that came into his eyes. She made another mental note as he answered.
‘Funny you should say that, Officer, because I remember her very well indeed.’
Twenty-Five
‘One minute I was playing hide and seek in the woods and the next I woke up in a room I didn’t recognise.’
Penn nodded and encouraged her to continue.
Libby Turner had graciously agreed to speak to him and had guided him through to a sun room at the back of her detached new-build home on the outskirts of Wrexham.
It had the best light in the house to aid her business as a jewellery maker. The sun shone in and reflected off the stones, clasps and tools that littered an antique workbench.
‘I was scared but I wasn’t hurt. No one spoke to me. Food arrived in the night while I slept, but I couldn’t eat because I thought the food was poisoned. On the second or third day there was a note. It simply said: “No one is going to hurt you”.’
‘And you believed the note?’ Penn asked as she tucked a lock of curly blonde hair behind her ear.
‘Actually, I did because underneath the words was a smiley face. Evil people don’t draw smiley faces, do they? That was my eight-year-old logic, so I believed him.’
‘Him?’ Penn asked, jumping ahead. Had she seen her captor?
‘I’ve just assumed all these years that it was a man. I never smelled any perfume or even heard footsteps, but I’ve always assumed it was a man.’
His hopes were dashed. They were not going to get a positive identification from this one either, but he was intrigued enough to keep listening.
‘I started to eat the food and enjoy the space. The room was lovely. I had a big bed, my own bathroom. A television on the wall, a desk and a wardrobe full of new clothes and shoes. There was a window, but it was covered with some kind of mural. I tried to peel it off, but it was glued from the outside.’
‘Didn’t you miss your family?’ Penn asked. He couldn’t imagine being taken away from his parents and Jasper at that age.
A shadow passed over her face. ‘I missed my friends more. They had been my lifeline.’
Why did an eight-year-old need a lifeline? Penn wondered but didn’t interrupt.
‘After a couple of weeks, the schoolwork started to appear on alternate days. If I finished my lessons, the next day I got comics and batteries for Fido.’
‘Fido?’
Libby smiled. ‘You know those electronic pet games. You had to feed it, walk it, train it and show it love by patting it.’
‘So he brought you presents?’
She nodded. ‘Games and puzzles. Normally it was something that kept the brain ticking over, something challenging that had to be accomplished. I remember one time when my bracelet broke. Oh I was so upset; my grandma had bought it for me before she died. It was the loop for the fastener that I couldn’t find. Next day there was a pair of tweezers and a little clamp. I managed to work one of the circles of the chain so I could repair it. A few days later there was a box full of beads, string and fasteners, enough stuff to make a hundred bracelets.’
Penn glanced to the workbench.
