Chapter 3: The Case of the Missing Teens

The rain had finally stopped by the time Bleddyn and Bernyce returned to his office, but the grey skies still loomed heavy over the city. The small piece of fabric they had collected from the scene lay on the desk between them, a potential key to unlocking the mystery surrounding Emily Dawes’ disappearance. Bernyce sat in one of the worn leather chairs, her eyes shifting between the fabric and Bleddyn as he meticulously typed notes into his computer.

Despite the tension between them, Bernyce couldn’t help but be fascinated by Bleddyn’s intense focus. There was an energy in the air, a sense that they were getting closer to something important, even though they had only scratched the surface of the case. Bleddyn’s brilliance was undeniable, but so was his emotional detachment. It was as if nothing else existed in his world except the cold facts in front of him.

“Are you always like this?” Bernyce asked, leaning forward slightly, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“Like what?” Bleddyn didn’t look up from his computer.

“Detached,” she said, watching him carefully. “Like the people in these cases don’t matter to you. It’s all just… data.”

He paused, his fingers hovering over the keyboard for a moment before he finally looked at her. His eyes, sharp and unreadable, locked onto hers. “Do you think I don’t care?”

“I don’t know,” Bernyce admitted. “It’s hard to tell.”

Bleddyn leaned back in his chair, folding his arms as if considering her words. “You’re not the first person to say that,” he said after a long pause. “But the truth is, if I let myself care too much, it would cloud my judgment. I deal in facts, not feelings.”

Bernyce frowned. “But these are real people, Bleddyn. Not puzzles.”

“They are both,” he replied, his voice calm but firm. “If you want to solve a case, you can’t afford to get lost in the emotional weight of it. That’s how mistakes happen.”

She wanted to argue, to tell him that it was possible to care without losing focus, but something in his expression told her that would be a futile discussion. Bleddyn’s mind was made up. He operated on logic and intellect, and anything beyond that was unnecessary in his world.

Just as Bernyce was about to change the subject, Bleddyn’s phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and frowned before picking it up. “What is it?”

The voice on the other end was faint, but Bernyce could hear enough to know it was someone from the police department. She sat quietly, watching as Bleddyn’s expression shifted slightly, his lips tightening into a thin line.

“Understood,” he said, hanging up and standing abruptly. “There’s been another disappearance.”

Bernyce’s heart skipped a beat. “Another girl?”

“Yes,” Bleddyn replied, grabbing his coat. “This time it’s different. The police think there was a witness.”

Bernyce shot up from her chair, adrenaline surging through her veins. “Where?”

“Southwark,” he said, already halfway out the door. “We need to move.”

The drive to Southwark was tense, the weight of the new development hanging over them like a dark cloud. Bernyce couldn’t shake the feeling that the case was spiraling into something more dangerous. Two girls had vanished without a trace, and now a third had gone missing. The thought of a witness gave her hope, but it also filled her with dread. Whoever was behind this had escalated, and that meant they were growing bolder—and more desperate.

When they arrived at the scene, it was a quiet suburban street, the kind of place where nothing terrible was ever supposed to happen. The police had already cordoned off the area, and a small crowd of neighbors had gathered, their faces etched with fear and concern. Bernyce followed Bleddyn as he approached the lead detective, a tall man with a serious expression.

“Detective Inspector Walker,” Bleddyn said, shaking the man’s hand. “Tell me what you have.”

Walker nodded grimly. “A girl named Mia Harper, sixteen years old. She was walking home from school. Her parents reported her missing when she didn’t show up. But here’s the interesting part—an elderly woman across the street claims she saw someone following Mia just before she disappeared.”

Bleddyn’s eyes narrowed. “Has she given a description?”

Walker shook his head. “Not much. She said it was dark, and she only saw a shadowy figure. But she swears she saw them lurking near the girl before she vanished.”

“A shadowy figure isn’t much to go on,” Bernyce said, feeling a pang of disappointment.

“No, but it’s more than we’ve had before,” Bleddyn replied, his tone calm but focused. “Where’s the woman now?”

Walker gestured toward a small house at the end of the street. “She’s inside. Mrs. Halley. She’s pretty shaken up.”

Bleddyn nodded. “We’ll talk to her.”

As they walked toward the house, Bernyce could feel the unease settling in her chest. The idea of someone watching these girls, stalking them from the shadows, sent a chill down her spine. She glanced at Bleddyn, wondering how he could remain so calm in the face of something so disturbing.

Inside, Mrs. Halley was sitting in her living room, her hands trembling slightly as she sipped a cup of tea. Her eyes darted nervously to the window, as if she expected the figure she had seen to reappear at any moment.

Bleddyn wasted no time getting to the point. “Mrs. Halley, I’m Professor Rowe. I understand you saw something unusual the night Mia disappeared.”

The elderly woman nodded, her voice shaky. “I did. I was looking out the window, and I saw her walking down the street, just like she always does. But then… there was someone else.”

“Can you describe them?” Bleddyn asked, his voice gentle but insistent.

Mrs. Halley shook her head. “It was too dark. All I saw was a shape, like a shadow moving along the side of the street. But I swear… they were following her. I could feel it. There was something wrong about the way they moved. Like they didn’t want to be seen.”

Bleddyn leaned forward slightly. “Did you see which direction they went after Mia disappeared?”

The woman hesitated, her eyes narrowing as she tried to remember. “I… I think they went toward the alley at the end of the street. But I didn’t see them go in. It was just a feeling.”

Bleddyn exchanged a glance with Bernyce. “Thank you, Mrs. Halley. You’ve been very helpful.”

As they stepped outside, Bernyce couldn’t help but feel a surge of frustration. “We’re still chasing shadows,” she muttered. “We don’t have anything solid.”

“Not yet,” Bleddyn said, his voice low. “But there’s something here. We need to find out what’s in that alley.”

The alley in question was narrow and dark, lined with overgrown bushes and abandoned sheds. Bernyce shivered as they made their way down it, the sense of being watched creeping over her. Bleddyn moved with purpose, scanning the ground and walls for any sign of a struggle or disturbance.

They reached the end of the alley, where the faint smell of damp and decay lingered in the air. Bleddyn stopped abruptly, his gaze fixed on something near the base of a brick wall.

“Look,” he said, pointing to a small scuff mark on the wall, barely visible under the grime. “Someone’s been here recently.”

Bernyce crouched down, peering at the mark. “It’s small. Could have been from Mia.”

Bleddyn straightened up, his expression darkening. “It could be. But we need more than this.”

Bernyce sighed, feeling the weight of the investigation pressing down on them. They were close, but still so far from the answers they needed.

As they made their way back to the car, Bernyce couldn’t shake the feeling that the shadowy figure Mrs. Halley had seen was still out there, watching, waiting. And whoever it was, they weren’t done yet.

Beside her, Bleddyn’s mind was working overtime, analyzing every detail, every possibility. His face was as unreadable as ever, but Bernyce could sense a shift in him. This case was becoming more personal, even if he refused to admit it.

As they drove away from the scene, the rain began to fall once more, casting a veil over the city. Bernyce stared out of the window, her thoughts racing. Two girls missing. A shadow lurking in the dark.

And now, they were one step closer to catching the person behind it all.

But with each step, the danger grew—and Bernyce knew they were walking straight into it.