Page 92 of Stolen

chapter 42

alex

‘Ian Dutton was set up,’ Jack says.

We’re sitting in his constituency office, less than two hours after he called me. Whatever plans he may have had for his evening, he cancelled so he could meet me straight away. He understands that even though my daughter’s been missing for more than two years, every night ofnot knowingis as brutal and tormented as the first.

‘What do you mean, Ian was set up?’ I ask.

Jack hands me his phone. I stare at the photo of an attractive brunette in her late twenties. She looks Middle Eastern: Syrian, maybe, or Lebanese.

‘Her name is Sanaa,’ Jack says. ‘She’s Ian Dutton’s girlfriend. She’s the woman who was with him in the video. Andthat,’ he adds, taking the phone and swiping to another picture, before handing it back to me, ‘is the girl Ian was carrying in his arms. Sanaa’s six-year-old daughter, Hala.’

I study the screen. The little girl’s long hair is bright blonde, just like Lottie’s. She’s about the same age as my daughter would be, too, but the resemblance stops there. I pinch the screen and zoom in on her face. Close up, it’s obvious she’s a different child – wrong eye colour, wrong nose – but, of course, in the video all that was visible was the back of her head.

‘Why didn’t he come forward and explain who the girl was?’ I say, handing back the phone. ‘His name and photograph were all over the news! He could’ve ruled himself out as a suspect with a single phone call!’

‘Because he and Sanaa were eloping,’ Jack says.

‘So?’

‘Sanaa is Lebanese and so is her husband. Issues of child custody and divorce in Lebanon are generally decided in religious courts. If a father establishes that the mother is unfit or lacking good moral character, she loses any right to the child.’ He gets up from the leather sofa and pours us both a measure of single malt from the bottle on the bookshelf. ‘Running off with another man, especially a Westerner like Ian, pretty much makes a prima facie case on that score.’

‘So he put himself at the centre of akidnapinvestigation instead?’

‘It wasn’t just that Sanaa wouldn’t get a fair hearing in court,’ Jack says. ‘The man’s last wife died in mysterious circumstances. Sanaa was terrified of him. She knew if she left him, she’d have to disappear completely, and so would Ian.’

It certainly explains why Ian has been hiding out in Dubai under a false name, willing to sacrifice his reputation and go on the run to protect the woman he loves.

But he also sacrificed whatever hope I had of finding my daughter.

After the police identified him as their prime suspect, they all but gave up the search for anyone else.

‘How reliable is this information?’ I ask.

‘Oh, it’s reliable.’ Jack knocks back his drink. ‘My guys don’t mess around. Ian didn’t give it up straight away, but, like I said, they can be very persuasive.’

I don’t feel sorry for Ian Dutton. His silence has wasted our time for almost two years. I feel ill when I think of the moneyand manpower that’s been directed towards tracking down the wrong man. Every fact we’ve used to inform our search since the footage first surfaced has been predicated on a red herring. If Ian couldn’t call the police, he could have phoned me, or sent a message. Toldsomeone.

‘Wait. If it was Sanaa’s daughter Ian was carrying, why would anyone film it?’ I ask. ‘Why would they think it was Lottie?’

‘They didn’t. Alex, this wasn’t a well-meaning tip-off. That video derailed the entire investigation. The whole thing with the Serbian burner phone, calling the Italian police – someone went to a lot of trouble to set Ian up and get the police chasing their tails. Theywantedto waste time and resources, and they succeeded.’

I’m filled with sudden rage at the sadistic cruelty of it.

‘Whoever took it, they were hiding in a doorway down the street, phone in hand, waiting to film Ian’s midnight flit,’ I say savagely. ‘You can tell by the way the video starts before either of them even come out the door. The bastard must’ve known about it in advance.’

‘Yep.’

‘That has to be a pretty short list of people, Jack.’

‘Ian says he didn’t even tell his family. Still hasn’t, in fact. They’ve got no idea he’s in Dubai. Sanaa didn’t tell anyone either – her parents would’ve supported her husband over their daughter. Ian insists the only people who knew were the two of them.’

‘Someone knew!’

Jack rubs his thumb thoughtfully across his lip. ‘Whoever sent that video was close enough to Ian to know what he was planning. That gives us some parameters.’

‘Who could’ve known he was going to disappear in the middle of the night, if even his family didn’t?’ I say, frustration sharpening my tone.