Page 20 of The Stolen Child

THEN

July 1983

Kimberly

The Carousel, Port of Barcelona, Spain

Kimberly wrapped a towel around herself as she exited the tiny shower. She had wedged the en suite door open with one of her espadrille sandals. Her eyes never left Lily, who was also freshly washed and sitting in her pram, wearing a pretty yellow sundress. The colour seemed incongruous with the manic fear Kimberly felt, rattling its way around her body and mind. Then the cabin door burst open, and Jason ran in, his face red and sweating, as if he’d sprinted the whole way to them.

‘He thinks I hurt Robert,’ Jason exploded.

Kimberly moved to her husband’s side, forgetting her own torment as she saw how distressed Jason was. ‘Sit down. Tell me what’s happened,’ she said.

Her calm and gentle tone seemed to do the trick. Jason complied and sank onto the double bed.

‘That . . . that . . . bloody inspector. He interviewed me when you came back here to freshen up.’ He paused, looking down. ‘He asked me if I’d ever thought about hurting Robert. He kept pushing and pushing, trying to get me to admit guilt.’

‘That’s outrageous!’ Kimberly said. ‘You are such a gentle man – you’d never hurt anyone!’

Jason looked up, and his lips quivered. His body began to shake. She’d never seen her husband break down like this before, and it frightened her. She fought the urge to fire questions at him, but instead let Jason take a moment to compose himself.

‘I got so angry about him suggesting that I’d ever lay a hand on my child. But that only seemed to fuel the fire I was guilty. He’d give me a scathing look, then go back to scribbling in his bloody notebook. They found Robert’s passport in the safe, along with ours. So whoever took him didn’t take his passport too.’

Kimberly understood her husband’s annoyance. She’d felt her hackles rise every time Inspector Ortega had picked up his pencil as she’d spoken too. She wished she knew what he’d been writing.

Jason stood up, his hands curling into fists by his side. ‘Then he changed tactics. Acted like we were best buddies and asked me to go over how much I had to drink last night.’

Kimberly could hardly believe that it was only the previous evening that Jason left them to go out. It felt like a lifetime had passed since that moment.

‘The inspector asked me if I might have been so drunk that I accidentally hurt Robert. He suggested that when I returned, Robert awoke and got into our bed. That I shook him too hard or smothered him with a pillow to stop him crying.’ Seeing Kimberley’s shocked face, he added quickly, ‘Don’t worry. He thinks that you slept through it all because you’d taken a sleeping tablet.’ Tears were now streaming down Jason’s face, and any anger he felt disappeared again as he recounted the horror of the accusations made to him. He finished in a terrified whisper, ‘He thinks I killed Robert.’

Kimberly fought a rising panic. She bit her lip hard until she felt blood reach her tongue. She must keep calm and rational if they were ever to get through this ordeal. It was clear that Jason was falling apart. And was it any wonder, faced with Inspector Ortega’s accusations?

‘I’m going back to see the inspector. I’ll tell him that his supposition is ridiculous.’ Then, taking in a whiff of her husband’s body odour, she added gently, ‘Take a shower. It helps. I promise.’

Jason nodded numbly.

Kimberly took the brake off the buggy and moved it towards the cabin door, but Jason called out to her, ‘Leave Lily here with me.’ Kimberly hesitated a fraction too long, and he slumped even further onto the bed. ‘You think I’m guilty too. You’re afraid to leave our daughter with me.’

‘Of course not. It’s just . . . I can’t be without her. It’s nothing to do with you, I promise.’

Jason’s shoulders dropped in defeat, and he walked to the bathroom, kicking her sandal aside and closing the en suite door between them.

Kimberly returned to the bar area, where she found Inspector Ortega smoking. Lily’s face broke into a smile when she saw the childminder Pamela again, so Kimberly left them together to play.

‘How could you accuse my husband of something so monstrous?’ Kimberly snapped, anger dancing its way through her now.

Inspector Ortega narrowed his eyes, and he asked, ‘We must rule out all avenues to find out the truth. You want to know what happened to your son, no?’

‘Yes, of course! But I do not want you to waste time running down the wrong avenue!’ Kimberly said, feeling heat rush into her cheeks. She sighed, then apologised for her outburst. ‘I’m sorry. I’m so scared.’

The inspector’s face softened in sympathy. ‘I understand. And I assure you that I am looking at all avenues, as you put it.’ He leaned in a little closer. Looking back, can you think of anything suspicious that you noticed in the lead-up to Robert’s disappearance? Was anybody watching your family?’

Ortega noticed Kimberly blanching at his words. ‘There was something?’ he asked quickly.

Kimberly held her hands up. ‘No. It’s the thought of someone watching my children, plotting, planning . . . I can’t bear to think of that.’

Ortega accepted this. ‘You need to know that we’ve searched the ship several times. Robert is not onboard.’ Inspector Ortega let that sit with her for a moment, then continued, ‘We’ve interviewed all staff, particularly those who were on duty last night and early this morning. Nobody saw Robert or indeed anything suspicious. We’ve reviewed the security footage taken on the cameras in the public areas. Looked at all personnel as they entered or left the ship. They shed no light on where your son might be. La Policia have now issued an amber alert, and checkpoints are already in place as they search for Robert.’