After Anna by Alex Lake Page A

blame them, try and sue them, but what was the point? It wouldn’t bring Anna back.
    She began to cry, then looked away, embarrassed at her grief. She had no right to it because she had only herself to blame.
    ‘Mrs Crowne,’ DI Wynne said. ‘We can stop if you need to, but there are a couple of other things I wanted to mention.’
    ‘I’m fine,’ Julia said. ‘Keep going.’
    Wynne looked at Brian. ‘I was wondering whether you have any more information on your father’s whereabouts? We haven’t been able to trace him.’
    ‘No,’ Brian said. ‘I asked Mum. She doesn’t have an address for him.’
    Wynne nodded slowly. ‘I see. We would really like to interview your father.’
    ‘Are you saying my father is a suspect?’ Brian said. ‘That’s ridiculous!’
    ‘No,’ Wynne replied. ‘I’m not suggesting that. But we would like to talk to him. Anything – irregular – is of interest to us. So if you do you have any information that might be of use, we would appreciate it.’
    Julia looked at Brian. He stared at the floor. If he was not going to say anything she was. If it helped get Anna back she had no choice.
    ‘He may have run away with someone,’ she said. ‘A teacher at the school. She went at the same time. I don’t know her name.’
    ‘That’s fine,’ Wynne said. ‘That should give us enough to go on. We’ll be able to find out who she was.’

    Brian gave Julia a hard, unforgiving look, then turned to DI Wynne. ‘Anything else?’ he said.
    ‘One other thing,’ Wynne responded. ‘We may get crank callers. People who claim to have seen Anna or even to have her in their custody. Obviously we will follow every lead, but we need something we can use to identify who might be a legitimate caller.’
    ‘What do you mean?’ asked Brian. ‘You expect people to give you false information?’
    The detective nodded. ‘It often happens,’ she said. ‘People leave anonymous tip-offs claiming to have seen a missing person, or sometimes they claim to be the perpetrator.’
    ‘Why?’ Brian asked. ‘Why would they do that?’
    ‘I don’t know,’ Wynne said. ‘Some people have nothing better to do. So we tend to hold back a piece of information.’
    ‘Like what?’ Julia said.
    ‘Something they would only know if they were with Anna.’
    Julia nodded. ‘She has a birthmark,’ she said. ‘It’s a rough circle, about the size of a ten pence piece. On her right hip.’
    She could picture it clearly. When Anna was first born she had disliked it as a sign of imperfection. She’d gone so far as to ask a doctor whether it could be removed, and the doctor had said it could, but she might want to think about it before doing anything, especially, as it was in a place that was normally hidden. He told her that in some cultures birthmarks were seen as signs of divinity, as though the bearer had been touched by God and marked out for special things. Julia had gone home and thought it over and decided to leave it. Whatever it was it was part of her daughter and she decided not to interfere with it. Over the years she had grown to almost like it; many times when Anna was in nappies she had kissed it before covering it up. It was their secret, known only to them.
    And now the birthmark, that private thing in a place normally hidden, was now an identifying mark . This one fact represented everything that was wrong. It made everything hard and real and irrevocable and Julia could no longer hold herself back.

    She started to cry, and she did not know how she would ever stop.

4
    The Second Day
    i.
    You found it a bit pathetic, as well as, frankly, stupid: You can go free. I promise you that. I won’t let anyone do anything to you. I don’t care about justice or anything like that. I just want my daughter back .
    You would never have done that, never have appeared so weak. How did she think that a person who could plan and then implement what you have done – to take a child in broad daylight –