Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

The call from Saffron Pollard’s ex-husband, Tony, came in on Sunday morning.

He had gone to drop their son, Alfie, off, and was concerned when he found that Saffron wasn’t home. Although this wasn’t the first time this had happened, given her recent ‘clown stalking’ claim, a patrol officer was sent to the house to do a missing person’s report. Tony had a set of keys for the house and the PC did a quick check, confirming nothing appeared out of place. With Saffron’s history, it was highly likely she had hooked up with someone and forgotten that her son was being dropped home. It was certainly the most plausible scenario.

Tony had grumbled a bit, but taken Alfie back home with him, repeatedly calling Saffron and leaving messages on her phone. When she still hadn’t showed up by Monday afternoon, he had called the police again, and the report became high risk, ending up with Finn and Vicky.

Finn was already tired and snappy, not in the mood for another Saffron runaround. The last few days hadn’t gone as intended, after receiving a call from his mother on Friday morning to say that his father had fallen off a ladder while trying to fix a broken tile on the roof of their bungalow.

That had scuppered his plans to ambush Casey and try and charm her into the lunch date he had proposed, as instead he had spent much of his day in A&E, then the weekend talking to doctors and running around after his parents, trying to make sure they were okay and had everything they needed.

His dad was bruised and had badly twisted his ankle, was lucky that he hadn’t done any further damage, and the doctors had ordered bed rest, which had led to a lot of grumbling. Given that Brenda Murphy didn’t drive and relied on her husband to get her about, that left both of them housebound, and Finn’s sole responsibility until his sister could get up to Norwich on Tuesday.

He had hoped to finish his shift on time today so he could call in to check up on them on his way home, but it looked like Saffron Pollard and her latest stunt might have put paid to that plan.

‘If she is having drunken sex somewhere and wasting our time, she won’t need to worry about a bloody clown attacking her,’ Vicky grumbled as they pulled up outside her house.

Tony Pollard was waiting for them by the front door, an anxious expression on his face.

Finn had met him a few times, knew he still thought a lot of Saffron, despite everything his ex-wife had put him through.

‘Let’s just get this over with,’ he muttered, getting out of the car.

They had read over the initial report before leaving the station, but Finn still had more questions for Tony, firing them at him as he and Vicky did a walk-through of the house, trying to find any clue of where Saffron could have taken off to. Her car was still in the driveway, but if she had gone out drinking, she would have probably caught a taxi. Her keys were missing and presumably on her.

Finn didn’t think Tony Pollard was involved with his wife’s disappearance, but he had to ask the questions, check that he did have alibis, find out how his relationship had been with Saffron recently. Whether they had fought over anything or if she had acted oddly the last time he had seen her.

It was the bedroom that gave them their first clue that things weren’t right.

Vicky was over by the unmade bed and screwed her nose up in disgust. ‘Yuck!’

‘What?’ Finn questioned from across the room, where he had just opened the wardrobe door.

‘These sheets stink of wee.’

She peeled back the duvet and Finn looked at the dried yellowing patch in the centre of the white sheet. It definitely looked like urine. Had Saffron been drinking and peed the bed? He glanced at Tony, who was hovering in the doorway. ‘Has she ever done anything like this before?’

Tony shook his head, took a step closer. ‘Never while I was with her.’

Vicky had bent down for a closer inspection and was looking like she was going to puke. ‘Yeah, it’s definitely wee. So we know she wet the bed, but what I don’t understand is why she didn’t clean it up.’

Finn agreed, it didn’t make sense. Why would she pee herself then just leave the house? He glanced back at the open wardrobe door. The top shelf was filled with handbags.

They hadn’t found a bag downstairs, assumed as her keys were missing Saffron would have her bag with her too. He gestured for Tony to step over to the wardrobe. ‘Do you know which handbag she regularly uses?’

‘She doesn’t have a regular one. She likes to co-ordinate her bag to whatever outfit she wears.’ Tony pointed to a bag on the end of the row. ‘I think she had that pink one with her when she dropped Alfie off.’

Nodding, Finn pulled the bag down from the shelf, unzipping it and emptying the contents onto the top of the dresser. A purse, hairbrush, lipstick, cigarettes and two lighters. He opened the purse, saw it held her driving licence and credit cards. In one of the plastic pockets was a picture of Alfie.

‘That’s her purse,’ Tony told them, stating the obvious. ‘Why would she go out without her purse?’

She wouldn’t, Finn agreed, and for the first time felt a flicker of unease. Maybe Saffron Pollard wasn’t okay. ‘We need to try and find out if her phone is in the house,’ he told Vicky.

‘I’ve been calling her all day,’ Tony was quick to point out. ‘She hasn’t answered.’

‘Can you call her again, please?’

Tony nodded, pulled out his own phone and punched in his ex-wife’s name. As it rang, a vibration sounded. Finn exchanged a glance with Vicky. The noise was coming from the floor.

Vicky dropped to her knees, peering under the bed. ‘It’s her phone,’ she confirmed.

She sat up briefly to pull on plastic gloves, before crawling back under.

When she emerged, she held the mobile phone in one hand, it was still attached to the charger. In the other something was pinched between her thumb and forefinger.

Finn stepped closer, eyes narrowing. ‘What is that, red hair?’

Vicky glanced down at her hand and nodded. ‘I don’t think it’s real though.’

‘So it’s from a wig?’

‘Maybe. It feels cheap. Could be fancy dress.’ Vicky rolled the hair between her fingers, her expression thoughtful. She looked at Finn and raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Remember the last time she called us out? What if it’s from a clown’s costume?’

It was late when the pair of them were finally away from Saffron Pollard’s house, having called CSI and secured the scene, and they were now taking it seriously that Saffron could very well be in danger, especially after an outdoor sweep of the perimeter of the house had revealed the keyring that held her house and car keys, thrown into some bushes close to the front door. Saffron wouldn’t pee the bed then lock herself out of the house, minus phone and purse, and throw away her keys. Something had happened to her.

As they headed back to the station, Vicky glanced in Finn’s direction.

‘I could be up for a nightcap, if you are.’

He knew exactly what her idea of a nightcap was, would normally say yes, but truth was he was knackered and just wanted to go to bed, alone. ‘I’ll pass tonight. It’s been a busy few days. I need to catch up on my beauty sleep.’ He grinned at her.

She shrugged, seeming unbothered, though the rejection obviously played on her mind, because a couple of minutes later she asked, ‘Who was that woman? The one whose dog peed outside your apartment last week.’

Her question took Finn by surprise. ‘Casey? She’s my new neighbour.’

‘But you knew her, right, from before?’

‘Yeah, we go back several years.’ He was about to tell Vicky about Casey’s connection to Steve Noakes, then changed his mind. It was in the past.

There was another longer pause.

‘Do you fancy her?’

This time Finn actually took his eyes off the road to look at Vicky, brows raised. ‘Would it bother you if I did?’

‘No, of course not. I’m just being nosey.’ Another pause. ‘So, do you?’

He considered the question, considered Casey – dark wide eyes and soft features, curves in all the right places – and felt a kick in the groin.

‘Yeah, I do,’ he admitted, hoping Vicky would be cool with that. The two of them had always been upfront about the fuck buddy thing. There was no reason to lie to her. ‘Not that it means anything is going to happen. I don’t even know if she has a boyfriend. And she as good as shut the door in my face last time we spoke.’

‘That’s never stopped you.’

‘No,’ Finn agreed, grinning. ‘It hasn’t.’

He was pretty good at figuring out a way to get what he wanted, even if sometimes it took a little bit of effort. He had a feeling Casey would be worth the effort.

When he eventually finished work, he drove straight home.

He had spoken with his mum on the phone, promised to try and find time to call in on them in the morning. Brenda Murphy understood the demands of her son’s job, knew he would do his best.

Bert was waiting for him, tail wagging, and as he had been alone for several hours, Finn decided to take him out before grabbing a shower. As he walked the dog down by the river, his mind wandered back to Saffron Pollard, and he mused over the mystery of her disappearance. The woman was a pain in the arse, but even so, Finn didn’t want to see anything bad happen to her. The clues they had found in her house, though, suggested she could be in some kind of trouble.

Tony’s alibis had already cleared him and tomorrow Finn and Vicky would start contacting Saffron’s friends. Despite the fact that she had left without her phone and keys, there was no sign of a fight or that she had been forced out of the house and no evidence of a break-in. Her whole disappearance was looking extremely odd.

Back in his apartment he threw a frozen pizza in the oven and opened a beer, before tuning into East Coast Radio. It was time to check out Casey’s show.

For such a small and skinny woman, Saffron Pollard is physically very strong. Even after everything she has endured over the past couple of days, she continues to fight me, and there have been a couple of times that I have been concerned she might actually break free of her restraints.

Fear can provoke many different reactions, from the more common uncontrollable shaking and hysteria to shutting down completely. One girl I took was so frightened, she became unresponsive. It was almost as if she had disappeared into her shell. She suffered for longer than most as I became desperate for a reaction. I never got one, though, and it stands out as the least satisfying experience I have had.

Saffron is not the first to display superhuman strength, though she is the smallest, and I have a new begrudging admiration for her. She has proven to be a worthy adversary and I am almost sorry that our time together is about to come to an end. I do like a fighter.

I look at her now. We have changed location and I have dressed her for the occasion. Her pretty yellow summer dress is a bright contrast to the dark and dingy walls of the abandoned cattle shed we are in, and in the light from the lanterns, her cuts and bruises are less apparent. She struggles violently against the chair to which she is tied, and I am grateful that I anticipated she would, which is why I made a trip out here yesterday to concrete the metal legs to the floor. I don’t want her to tip over and get dirt on her nice clean dress.

She watches me warily as I set down a cheap portable radio next to her, tuning it in to a local station, East Coast Radio. During our time together I haven’t removed the mask and I haven’t spoken a word to her. She still has no idea what I look like or why I have done these terrible things to her. I prefer the silence, know it invokes more fear. Not knowing what I am going to do next is far more frightening than being given a running commentary.

But she is about to see me and to hear me speak for the first time.

Here, in the abandoned cattle shed, two lanterns lighting up my lady in yellow, the only noise cutting through the still warm night, the tinny sound of Coldplay singing, rather ironically, about paradise, I remove the mask and reach for my phone.