gathered together every party, carnival and Hallowe’en mask they could find in the shops and on the internet. Evi had already discarded some that bore no relation to Tom’s description and had arranged the funnier, less threatening ones so that they came out of the box first.
Tom was reaching into the box himself now, turning round with each new find to see how it looked in the mirror. Millie was copying her brother, getting the elastic tangled in her hair. Joe was studiously ignoring both of them. Gradually, the masks became darker, scarier, no longer made with children’s parties in mind.
‘Mum, look,’ called Tom. He stood up tall, an oversized mask over his head. The mask seemed to depict a male, East European peasant with drooling mouth and very little brain.
‘What?’ said Alice, looking up from her magazine. ‘Oh, very nice.’
‘You know who I am,’ prompted Tom. ‘The servant from The Young Dracula. The one who makes them bat-bogey porridge for breakfast.’
‘Yeah, I must get some of that,’ agreed Alice. ‘Any nicer ones in there?’
Tom turned back to the box as Millie waddled over to her mother with an Incredible Hulk mask pulled over her face. It was upside-down.
Thirty minutes later, Tom had reached the bottom of the box and Evi was ready to admit defeat. On the plus side, none of the children appeared to have been disturbed by the exercise. Tom had treated it like a huge game, trying on every mask, even making Evi put on several. Millie, too, had joined in the fun, although she’d grown tired a while ago and was now sitting on her mother’s lap. Joe had completely ignored both his siblings and had concentrated instead on his drawing. He’d been working on the same picture for over half an hour now. He was just a little too far away for Evi to see what it was.
The clock in the corner of the room said it was twenty-five past six. ‘I’m afraid we’re going to have to stop now,’ said Evi, glancing at the large mirror. ‘Tom, thank you. That was very brave of you. And it was very helpful. Thank you, Millie.’ She glanced over at Alice and DC Mortimer in the corner of the room. Alice raised her eyebrows in a silent question. Evi shook her head. Alice stood up, Millie in her arms. The child’s eyes were glazed and she snuggled in close to her mother.
‘Worth a try, I suppose,’ muttered the detective, getting to her feet.
‘Come on, boys,’ said Alice. ‘What did we do with coats? Joe, are you done?’
Evi had almost forgotten about Joe. The boy had been so quiet all the time she’d been interacting with Tom and Millie. Now he stood up, examined the drawing he’d been working on and then carried it over to her. He held it out.
Evi took it, feeling her ribcage tighten. The drawing was exceptionally good for one done by a six-year-old. It showed a figure dressed in pale blue, with long fair hair and over-sized hands and feet. The head seemed large too, whilst the eyes looked huge and heavy lidded. The full-lipped mouth hung open and the neck was terribly misshapen. A movement at Evi’s side told her that Tom, too, was looking at his brother’s drawing. Alice and Millie drew close.
‘Ebba,’ said Millie, her eyes brightening as she reached for the drawing. ‘Ebba.’
‘That’s her,’ said Tom in a small voice. ‘That’s what she looks like.’
63
‘ALL THREE OF THEM? ARE YOU SURE?’
‘Perfectly,’ said Evi. ‘Joe drew her, Tom and Millie both recognized her. Millie even had a name for her. Ebba, she called her. She’s quite real, this Ebba person. The police just have to find her. Are you playing Springsteen?’
‘A man can dream. Hang on, I’ll turn it down.’ Harry picked up the remote control and the music faded. ‘So what is she?’ he asked. ‘A kid, a dwarf?’
‘Hard to say. Tom showed me on a height chart roughly how tall he thought she was. About 140 centimetres, which would put her on a par with an eight-or a nine-year-old child. But if Joe’s drawing was accurate, her hands, feet and head are disproportionately big. That might suggest an adult with stunted growth. And she appears to have some sort of lump, maybe a goitre, on the front of her neck.’
‘If someone like that lives in Heptonclough, people will know about her.’
‘Exactly. And she must live there. There are no other towns close enough.’