Free Blood, Salt, Water by Denise Mina Page A

you think someone’s taken her? Why not that she’s just run off?’
    He found it hard to articulate but eventually held his hands up at the room. ‘Why are we here, in Glasgow? What are we doing here?’
    It was an astute question. Long-serving police officers were wondering the same thing. He was rocking back and forth, nearly crying. He couldn’t talk any more, could hardly catch his breath. Morrow patted his hand, felt a strong urge to lie and tell him everything would be all right. ‘I’m going to ask your sister about the argument in the car, OK?’
    He hummed warily at the door, steeling himself.
    Morrow got up and went across the hall, knocking and opening the door simultaneously. She found Martina standing by her bed, waiting. Her manner was imperial.
    ‘Martina. Can you tell me what your dad said on the phone that made your mum so angry?’
    ‘Nothing.’ Martina’s voice was flat. ‘He didn’t say anything.’
    They looked at each other for a while. Finally, Morrow broke the silence. ‘Why did you call us if you don’t want help?’
    ‘Get us away from Walker . . .’ Martina was crying a little now, not like Hector though. It was controlled, as if she was squeezing it out.
    ‘Are you afraid of Robin?’
    ‘No!’
    ‘Do you think he had anything to do with your mum—’
    ‘No!’
    ‘You don’t think he hurt your mum?’
    She couldn’t bring herself to say that. She slumped down on the bed, defeated. ‘No.’
    ‘What do you think has happened?’
    ‘She calls at four fifteen, when we get in from school, normally. We were worried when she didn’t call, but maybe she was driving?’
    ‘Why would she be driving?’
    ‘I think she drove to London to see Auntie Maria. I think she gave her a fucking ear-bleed.’
    Morrow took a moment to navigate her way through the teen-speak. ‘Was she angry with her?’
    Martina shook her head. ‘She was angry about nothing. Literally nothing . She went crazy: “What did he say? What exactly. ” But he hadn’t said anything. “Auntie Maria said you’re doing geometry.” Literally that boring.’
    She was a child whose mother was missing and she’d been dumped on an unloved stepfather but still, Martina didn’t evoke sympathy, not like Hector. She was beautiful, privileged, but bitter and angry, as if she had everything but couldn’t fucking believe she wasn’t getting more.
    ‘You got your brother to call us, why not call yourself?’
    She shrugged carelessly, as if she just couldn’t be bothered, but Hector had been listening and called out from his room, ‘She was crying so much she couldn’t speak.’
    Martina glowered at the door.
    ‘Has your mum ever left you before?’
    ‘ Never! ’ She spat the word. ‘She has never, ever left us before. Mummy is fierce about us, so I know there’s something wrong, otherwise she would have phoned.’
    ‘Well, she has left and she hasn’t phoned. What do you think could cause that to happen?’
    Martina, chewed her cheek, looked tired. ‘I think she’s in trouble,’ she whispered.
    ‘What sort of trouble?’
    But Martina’s chin trembled and she dropped her face to hide it. Morrow saw then that she wasn’t mean or haughty, she was just a child who didn’t know where her mum was and she was scared. Fear with its make-up on.
    ‘Money trouble?’
    She gave her lap a tiny nod and then glanced up at McGrain, pleading with them not to press it.
    Morrow didn’t want to ask. Incriminating evidence from children looked bad, especially if they had been questioned without an adult present. They could ask her to elaborate eventually, if they needed to.
    Morrow held up the photograph from the Botanics and pointed out the mysterious Mr Y. ‘Who’s this man?’
    ‘Frank Delahunt. He’s the lawyer for Mummy’s business up here. He’s a creepy wanker.’
     
    Back in the car with McGrain, Morrow puzzled the dynamics in the family.
    ‘What do you think? Martina seems desperate to get away from