I had installed one of those security systems that showed a video on my mobile phone of who was there. I could also talk to them.
‘Hello,’ I said, looking at the image of a woman in her thirties, standing on the porch.
‘Is that Mr Newton?’ she said. ‘Mr Chester Newton?’
‘Yes,’ I replied.
‘I’m Detective Sergeant Christine Royle of Thames Valley Police.’ She held up her police warrant card to the camera so I could read it. ‘Can I come in?’
‘Just a minute.’
I rushed through the kitchen and the hallway to the front door.
DS Royle was not alone. Standing by her car was a younger man.
‘This is DC Abbot.’
I showed the two of them into the house, then through into the kitchen, where we sat at the table.
‘Have you spoken to my daughter?’ I asked.
‘Indeed, we have,’ said the detective sergeant. ‘We’ve come straight here from the hospital.’
‘Is she all right?’ I asked with concern.
‘She was fine when I left her,’ the DS replied. ‘She’s now resting.’
‘What did she say happened?’
‘That’s the problem. She told me she has no memory of anything that occurred yesterday evening. The last thing she can remember is getting dressed for your party. She claims to have no recollection of how or why she ended up in hospital. I am hoping that some of her memory might return later. But blood tests have shown she has both cocaine and ketamine in her system.’
‘Ketamine? Isn’t that a drug used by vets on horses?’
‘It’s also an anaesthetic for humans and is widely used for relieving acute pain due to injury. But it’s also taken illegally by some people as a recreational drug. And it can make people do the strangest of things, sometimes totally out of character. Mr Newton, are you aware that your daughter is a drug user?’
‘I wasn’t. Not until last night when her boyfriend admitted that they had both snorted some cocaine before the party.’
‘And ketamine?’
‘Not that I was aware of,’ I said. ‘But I wouldn’t put anything past Darren Williamson. Why don’t you ask him? He was arrested here last night for possessing cocaine. The officers said he’d been taken to Oxford.’
‘He has since been released with a caution,’ the DS said.
‘When?’ I asked.
‘In the early hours, after your daughter had been located. There was no reason to detain him any longer. There’s been a major disturbance in Oxford City Centre overnight, which involved rioting and looting. It always seems to happen when the weather is hot and people drink too much. Anyway, numerous arrests were made, and Mr Williamson was released to make room in the cells.’
At this point Georgina walked into the kitchen in her dressing gown.
‘I thought I heard voices down here,’ she said. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Amanda’s fine. These people are detectives. They’ve come to ask us some questions about last night.’
The detective sergeant stood up. ‘I’m DS Royle and this is DC Abbot. I assume you are Mrs Newton?’
‘Yes,’ said Georgina. ‘I am.’
‘I’ve just been telling your husband that your daughter has no memory of the events of last evening. At least, that’s what she’s been telling us.’
‘Don’t you believe her?’ Georgina asked sharply.
‘Should I have any reason not to?’ asked the DS.
‘None,’ Georgina replied emphatically.
She would always defend her daughter.
The detective took a notebook from her jacket pocket and opened it. ‘Could you both please give me an account of events last evening, in particular, prior to your daughter going missing? Especially anything unusual.’
I wondered if winning the Derby counted as unusual.
I went through everything I could remember, from the time I had arrived home from Epsom until the moment I had been unable find Amanda for the speeches. I also described the actions taken afterwards to try and find her.
‘Have you anything to add, Mrs Newton?’ asked the detective.
‘Nothing,’ Georgina replied. ‘I think Chester has covered everything.’
The detective closed her notebook.
‘I will need a list of the names and addresses of all your guests. I believe you told the constables last night that you could provide one.’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I have an Excel file. I’ll go and print it out.’
I went through to my office, printed the list from my computer, and took it back to the kitchen.
‘Don’t forget to cross off my mother, and also Richard and Sarah Bassett,’ Georgina said. ‘They didn’t come.’
I put a line through their names and then handed the list to the detective.
‘You seem to be taking this matter very seriously,’ I said to her. ‘Do you really think that my daughter just had a bad drug trip and wandered off, or is there something you’re not telling us?’
The DS hesitated. So there was something else.
‘I think we have a right to know,’ I said. ‘We are her parents.’
‘But your daughter is over eighteen. She’s now an adult, able to make her own decisions, and she is also entitled to her privacy, even from her parents. But are either of you aware if your daughter was in the habit of injecting herself with anything?’
‘Like what?’ Georgina asked, somewhat alarmed.
‘Drugs.’
‘As I told you, we were not aware of her taking any drugs,’ I said. ‘Why do you ask?’
The DS hesitated again, as if deciding whether to tell us. In the end she clearly made up her mind to do so. ‘It would appear that there is an injection puncture mark on her skin.’
‘Whereabouts on her skin?’ Georgina asked.
‘On her neck,’ said the detective. ‘Close to her jugular vein.’
‘Her jugular vein!’ I said. ‘How could anyone inject themselves there?’
‘You’d be surprised. Some addicts regularly inject into their jugulars when they can no longer find a suitable vein anywhere else.’
‘But that’s ridiculous,’ I said. ‘Someone else must have injected her.’
‘With what?’ Georgina asked.
‘Ketamine,’ the DS replied.
‘What’s that?’ asked Georgina, now deeply worried.
‘An anaesthetic. Blood tests show it is in her system, and she is also displaying some of the after-effects of ketamine, in particular amnesia and confusion.’
‘But is she all right now?’ I asked.
‘She’s better this morning, but because of the ketamine, we are now treating her disappearance as a possible abduction.’
‘Only a possible abduction?’ I said. ‘What other explanation could there be?’
‘We are still looking into that.’
See how easy it was for me to take your daughter, the squeaky voice had said. In the future, you will do as I say, or next time she’ll come home in a body bag.
I debated again whether I should tell this police officer about that call.
‘Tell me,’ I said to her casually. ‘If someone receives a nuisance call with No Caller ID shown on their phone, can the police find out who made it?’
She looked at me. ‘Why do you want to know?’
‘No reason,’ I said. ‘I just wondered.’
‘It’s technically possible but it’s complicated because of privacy laws. And it also depends on the caller’s number having been properly registered. Most nuisance callers use unregistered burner phones, which makes it impossible to trace them.’
So there was absolutely no point in me telling the detective about the call I’d received from Squeaky Voice. It wouldn’t lead to him being traced, and it might put Amanda in greater danger.
‘Have you been receiving nuisance calls?’ asked DS Royle, her detective antennae clearly quivering wildly.