Spider's Web by Ben Cheetham

Jessica’s abduction was something else. Her gaze returned to the sketch of Spider. She remembered the ugliness she’d seen in his eyes. The desire. He’d looked at Jessica as though no one else existed, a look that said, You’re mine and mine alone.
    Debbie Tompkins’ house was a pretty cottage with a small, well-kept garden. She appeared to have done well for herself, especially considering what she’d been through. Anna knew only too well how difficult it was to break free of past trauma and build a new life. She felt uneasy about raking up that trauma. But there was no hesitation in her movements as she approached the door and knocked on it. The truth – that was what mattered most.
    A slimly built woman of around forty – bobbed auburn hair and a tanned, makeupless face – answered the door. She looked at Anna with direct, clear blue eyes that betrayed no hint of her past. ‘Hello, Debbie,’ said Anna, recognising her from her driving licence photo.
    ‘Hello. Do I know you?’
    ‘No. My name’s Anna Young. I was wondering if we could speak for a moment.’
    ‘About what?’
    Anna could detect no trace of a Manchester accent. Debbie had obviously worked hard to reinvent herself. ‘Do you mind if I come in? It would be better if we talked inside.’
    A faint wrinkle formed on Debbie’s forehead. The first indicator, perhaps, of some well-concealed inner anxiety. ‘Is this some kind of sales pitch, because if—’
    Anna cut Debbie off with a shake of her head. ‘I just want to talk. It won’t take long.’
    ‘What did you say your name was again?’ Debbie’s voice was tinged with caution now. ‘And how did you get my address?’
    ‘Anna Young. I got your address off someone who I suppose you could say was a mutual friend of sorts. I’m searching for my sister. I was hoping you might be able to help me find her.’
    ‘Why would I know where your sister is?’
    Anna showed Debbie the dog-eared photo of Jessica that she carried everywhere with her. It had been taken at Jessica’s thirteenth birthday party and it captured her dollish eyes and pouting lips perfectly. Debbie’s gaze flicked doubtfully between the photo and Anna. ‘You’re thinking that she’s too young to be my sister, aren’t you?’ said Anna.
    ‘Well… yes, actually I am.’
    ‘That photo was taken twenty years ago. Less than a month before my sister was abducted by this man.’ Watching closely for Debbie’s reaction, Anna showed her the sketch of Spider. In an instant, Debbie’s face became as blank as ice. Her lack of expression was more telling than any amount of histrionics. ‘You recognise him, don’t you?’
    Debbie mutely shook her head.
    ‘He was the caretaker at Hopeland children’s home at the time you were there,’ persisted Anna. ‘You knew him as William Keyes or Spider.’
    With another shake of her head, Debbie started to close the door. Anna jammed her foot between it and the frame. ‘Please, Debbie, I know what you went through. I know how hard this must be for you.’ She pointed at the sketch. ‘But him and Thomas Villiers and all the others like them can’t be allowed to get away with what they’ve done and what they’re still—’
    ‘Move your foot,’ cut in Debbie, her voice as deadpan as her face.
    ‘We have a chance to stop them. It might be the only one we get.’
    Debbie jerked the door back then slammed it forwards, forcing Anna to withdraw her foot. Anna hammered her palm against the door, shouting, ‘Look Villiers up on the internet. You’ll see what I’m talking about. We can get the bastards, Debbie.’
    Anna bit down on any more words she might have said. The last thing she wanted was to arouse Debbie’s neighbours’ curiosity. Tideswell was a small, isolated village, the kind of place where once word of anything got out it spread fast.
    She retreated to her camper van, lit a cigarette and waited to see if her parting words had any effect. Fifteen minutes passed.