Chapter 115

Chapter 115

Crashing back into the basement, Helen skidded to a halt in the middle of the room. She was now convinced that Naomi and Mia were hidden in this awful building, that somehow the answer to the riddle at the heart of this troubling case lay here, but where?

Once more, Helen strained to hear, exhilarated to discover that the repetitive sound continued to ring out. The water pipe that emerged above, however, was no longer visible, which made no sense. It clearly came down here and someone was obviously banging on it, so …

Marching forwards, Helen ran her hand over the side wall nearest the stairs, beating her hand against it. It made sense that the pipe must be concealed somewhere, boxed in perhaps, but the wall felt solid, the brickwork secure. Reaching the far wall, however, Helen paused. This area had been plastered over and, pressing the wall with her fingers now, Helen was surprised to find that the plasterwork was springy and fresh. This building hadn't been touched in years, so why had someone redecorated down here? It had dust on it, perhaps kicked up to conceal the repair work, but this was a recent job, no question. Someone had done this in the last day or two. But why? What did this wall conceal?'

‘Naomi?'

Opening up her lungs, Helen screamed out her name. Instantly, she got a response, the metallic noise growing in both volume and urgency. Now Helen was scratching urgently at the plasterwork, as she ran her fingers over the surface. Great clumps of plaster seemed to fall away, having barely set, and now she hit something. Pausing, Helen leaned in, to discover that there was a join down the middle of the wall. Using her index finger, she ran her nail down from top to bottom, revealing the full seam. What was this then? Some kind of access point? A hinged door even?

Taking a step back, Helen gathered herself, then threw her foot at the door. Her boot connected hard with the chipboard, the whole wall seeming to shake and quiver in front of her. Energized, exhilarated, Helen attacked the wall again, her boot slamming into it, denting the surface badly.

‘Stand back, Naomi, I'm coming in.'

Once more Helen charged at the wall, kicking out at it with all her might. This time her foot went straight through, sending a cloud of plaster dust high into the air. Retrieving her boot, Helen now thrust her hands through the small hole she'd made, tugging at the surrounding plasterboard. Great chunks came off in her hand, opening up a large, round fissure. Now she paused, breathless and exhilarated, ripping out her phone and firing the torch beam inside. The response was immediate, surprising and wonderful, the bedraggled, blinking face of Naomi Watson appearing out of the darkness, pressing herself into the light.

And now all composure deserted Helen. Sinking to her knees, with tears in her eyes, she pulled the gaunt teenager to her, enfolding her in a hug. The desperate captive collapsed into her arms, sobbing out her anguish and relief. Helen pulled her close, more relieved than she could say that she had found the missing girl alive. Stroking her hair, clinging onto her fiercely, Helen pressed her lips to the shaking girl's ear, as she whispered.

‘Come on, Naomi. Let's get you home.'