THEN SHE RAN an absolutely gripping crime thriller with a massive twist Read online

  She ran harder, her right arm so tight around Isobel that she was scared she might hurt her. In front, she could see the dull grey of a multi-storey car park. She sprang through the entrance, running around the barrier. She heard the screech of a car stopping, then the sound of its doors opening and closing. She ran through the car park until she burst out on the other side. In front of her was a small grass bank, well worn by foot traffic taking the same route. It led into a small retail park that contained a couple of supermarkets and a shop selling beds, clustered around yet another car park. Though the area was thronged with cars and people, she remembered the busy scene she had run from: the presence of other people hadn’t mattered then.

  Jenny slowed to a walk and stooped, trying to lose herself among the parked cars. She made it to the car park entrance where a line of slow moving cars meandered slowly in a one-way system looking for parking places. She approached the first car she came to, walking in front of it and holding out her arm. The car stopped, but the couple inside locked their doors and shooed her away. She moved to the next car that rolled in behind it. The same reaction, only this time the driver tooted his horn. Quickly she ducked lower and moved away towards the supermarket. She caught her reflection in the windows of parked cars: her eyes were wild, her hair slick with sweat and her right arm was still a mass of blood. She was still clutching Isobel to her chest but her white blanket was stained a deep red and her hair was the only part of her that was visible. ‘Please let it be my blood!’ she whimpered.

  Jenny realised how she must look, she realised that no one was going to help. She turned back towards where she had entered the car park and dared to stand taller. She could see a dark figure moving among the cars. He wasn’t far away and was scanning for something. He was looking for her. She was running out of options.

  Three rows closer to the supermarket she saw a police car parked up next to a vacant parking space. She ran to it. It was empty. She peered desperately towards the supermarket entrance, praying for the officers who owned the car to emerge, to be armed, to shout for her to stand behind them.

  They didn’t come.

  She looked over to where she had seen the man walking among the cars. He was closer still, facing the other way but still moving. He hadn’t seen her yet. She pushed herself up against the police car, peering at him through the windows. He turned towards her, his arm held out like before. She could see he was holding something and people around him were starting to react. Someone screamed. Jenny couldn’t stay where she was. He was going to kill her — and Isobel — and he didn’t care who saw.

  Jenny looked frantically around. The outside perimeter of the car park was fifty metres away where there was a short slope to a pavement. Hiding wasn’t going to work. She had to get away. Quickly she checked Isobel over. Her eyes were wide and she was running through some fretful expressions but she was fine. The blood on the blanket was all on the outside; it was all Jenny’s. Jenny dared to look over to where the man had come closer. He was still searching. She slammed her eyes shut and begged for this to work. She stood up, facing away from the man with the gun. She fixed on the pavement and ran as hard as she could.

  Chapter 2

  PC Ryan McGuiness stepped through the supermarket doors. His colleague PC Natalie Sawyers was close behind him.

  ‘Maybe we’ve got it wrong, you know,’ Natalie said.

  Ryan slowed so Natalie could catch him up. He saw a playful twinkle in her eye. ‘Got what wrong?’

  ‘Well, life in general. We’re in there taking our report and tutting at the man who walked in and stole three bottles of gin at seven in the morning, but I mean, who’s right? I love gin.’

  ‘I know what you mean. We won’t be able to have a gin until at least our lunch break.’

  ‘We should just quit? Maybe nick a bottle of gin on the way home — job done. I wouldn’t have to worry about my sergeant’s exams. Well, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.’

  ‘Except prison.’

  ‘Oh, come on! How much gin would you have to nick to go to prison? Much more than I’d ever need! And that’s only if you get caught. What description did we get today? A tall bloke in a white crash helmet, with a limp. It’s not a great deal to go on, is it?’

  ‘Do I detect you are feeling a little less motivated today, Nat?’ They stopped outside of the shop. Ryan joined the queue for the cash machine. He was struggling to open a packet of sandwiches. He’d been running too late for breakfast before his shift.

  ‘I wouldn’t say less motivated, Ryan. I’m just tired, I guess. And maybe looking for alternatives to spending my nights studying and my days waiting for you.’

  Ryan looked up from his sandwich wrestling. ‘Jesus, Nat! I’ll be two minutes! You got somewhere you need to be?’

  ‘Zulu One from Control.’ Ryan’s radio came through loud from its position strapped to his chest. It caused two people ahead of them in the queue to spin and face him. He smiled and quickly turned it down.

  ‘Maybe!’ Natalie called over, she gestured at her own radio. She dipped her head to reply, ‘Zulu One. Go ahead, Control.’

  ‘Zulu One, you are tracking close to a shots fired call in London Road, Dover. We have multiple informants. Received so far?’

  ‘So far,’ Natalie replied. Ryan pushed his wallet back into his pocket. They both started towards their parked car.

  ‘At this time we do not have anything confirmed and it varies from shots fired, erratic driving and the last call is regards an RTC. We’re pretty sure they’re all the same incident, Zulu One. We just need someone on the ground to take a look.’

  ‘Received that, Control. Show us en route. What’s the exact location?’

  ‘The RTC is described as being outside of the old indoor market, if that means anything to you. So you are aware, this is being assessed by the firearms commander and an armed patrol is making its way. We just require you to make an initial assessment. You are to remember the stay-safe principles. Do you need reminding of these principles, Zulu One?’

  ‘No. Thank you, Control.’

  Ryan looked over at Natalie and rolled his eyes. ‘By stay-safe principles they mean don’t get hit by a bullet, right? I mean, it’s good advice but I’m not sure anyone really needs reminding of that.’ Ryan made it back to their car first. He slid into the driver’s seat and threw his sandwiches onto the bench seat behind him. He fired the engine and snatched at first gear for a quick getaway. He knew the location: it was a quick trip round the one-way system. He was suddenly aware that his colleague hadn’t joined him, she still stood at the passenger door, apparently unmoving — he could just see her hip. Ryan cursed and slid her window down.

  ‘Nat, we gotta go!’ She stepped further away, towards the front of the car. She moved far enough for Ryan to see her face. Her eyes were wide in panic, her hands covered her mouth and she was staring back towards him. He saw what she was looking at, what he had missed in his urgency. A white blanket, bunched up and lying on the bonnet was pressed lightly against the windscreen. It was stained red — blood red. It was so fresh that there was a spot on the screen.

  ‘Jesus, Nat! What is it?’

  ‘Ryan,’ Nat managed. ‘It’s a baby.’

  ‘A what?’ Ryan got out of the car. His attention was dragged away to the unmistakeable sound of a gunshot. Members of the public were running towards him. He turned back to his colleague who was still staring at the bundle on the bonnet as if it was too hot to touch. ‘What the hell is going on?’

  Chapter 3

  ‘So how have you been?’ The words drifted out of Sarah Elms’ lips like small talk. Like the exchange of pleasantries at a workplace water cooler. George Elms took a moment to look around, to quell the immediate response that he wanted to give his wife.

  Outside the large window, Langthorne’s Old High Street bustled under light rain, a shiny strip of cobbled nostalgia. Unchanged since the turn of the previous century and once the hub of the town, it was now mostl
y art galleries, bars and coffee shops, like the one in which George and his wife were now sitting. It was his favourite in the town. The coffee-tinged air that helped set off the atmosphere was complemented by a bookshop theme. Just about every inch of wall was covered with books, old novels with aging brown jackets and yellowing pages. He had chosen it as a venue for their meeting on purpose. It was a public place, so it came with the natural pressures of social etiquette, where his wife could feel comfortable. And it was somewhere he knew and liked so he could feel comfortable too. But his wife had just asked him casually how he had been, after she had disappeared with their daughter for the best part of twelve months. The comfortable surroundings suddenly mattered very little — he wanted to bang hard on the table, maybe get to his feet and tip it right over, throwing their carefully presented lattes all over the floor. He wanted to shout, to swear, to demand to see his little girl.

  ‘I’ve been okay,’ he said, instead.

  ‘Quite a pause there, George! Is that what you really wanted to say?’ Sarah’s chuckle had a nervous ring to it and she seemed to be studying him closely for his reaction.

  ‘Well, I mean obviously it’s been hard. I’ve missed my family every day. I missed you, both of you.’ Their daughter Charley especially, if he was honest. She would be nine years old in two days’ time — nine years old! How had that happened? Sometimes he thought about it, about how much time was passing since he had last seen her and it just about brought on a full panic attack. He would have sharpness of breath, even palpitations. You get one shot at being a dad to your kid and they don’t stay kids for long.

  ‘I can imagine.’ Sarah said.

  George bit down hard on his tongue. There was no way she could have a clue. ‘So are you back down this way for good?’

  ‘Probably — I mean that’s the plan. We’re in with my mum at the moment until we can get a place sorted. But it will be in the area.’

  ‘Okay.’ George tried to quell another feeling that came on quickly: excitement. His wife and child were going to be a twenty-minute drive away. The last year had been nothing but sporadic phone conversations and messaging — and now this! And from nowhere.

  ‘So we won’t be far. We can sort out some regular arrangement for you and Charley. At least once a week or something, but starting with her birthday. She’s missed you.’ Sarah smiled. She was so beautiful, the more so when she was happy.

  ‘Oh God, I’ve missed her too!’ George took a rushed intake of air as his emotions threatened to get the better of him. ‘I’ve got Tuesday booked off. Her birthday. Just let me know times.’

  ‘We’ll sort something. You can have her all afternoon. I didn’t want to bring her today, but does the afternoon suit?’

  ‘That’s fine. Are you not going to be with us?’

  ‘Well, I thought I would give you some time on your own, just the two of you. We can have dinner in the evening maybe? After you’ve done the cinema or whatever you want.’

  ‘Is that what she wants to do? There’s something on at Leeds Castle, I was thinking of taking her there.’

  ‘She’d like that. She can’t wait to see you — I don’t think she’d mind if it was a few hours on a park bench to be honest! She wanted to come today, but I wanted to speak to you first. I didn’t want her here, in case . . . you understand, right?’

  ‘Sure, I understand about today.’ George leant back in his seat. He had been disappointed about today but there was no need to share it. Not now. He was about to get Charley for the best part of a whole day. And on her birthday! He knew he had a stupid smile on his face; there was nothing he could do about that.

  ‘So, an inspector now!’ Sarah was back to watching for his reaction. She peered out over her raised coffee cup.

  ‘Yeah, it’s all pretty new. Just a couple of weeks really.’

  ‘How did that happen? Detective Inspector George Elms! No offence, George, but I had you as the last person they would promote.’

  ‘I know! None taken. I don’t think anyone saw it coming — me included. I suddenly got a nudge in that direction and I sort of went with it. I never expected to actually get the promotion. I just wanted to see look on the faces of certain people when I turned up for my interview. As it turned out I had some really good evidence in my portfolio, I passed the exam and then the interview. Then I was endorsed by someone in senior management and they had no choice but to make me up.’

  ‘Senior management? Who stuck their neck out for you?’

  ‘John Whittaker.’

  ‘Whittaker?’ Sarah seemed to be mulling the name over. ‘Ex-army, right? Older fella. Always stands to attention. We met him at some award ceremony.’

  ‘Well remembered.’

  ‘He’s not the sort of man you forget. We liked him, right?’

  ‘We did yes. We certainly do now. He’s one of the good guys.’

  ‘Few and far between at that place.’

  George couldn’t disagree, not with Sarah. No one had been affected by bad apples in his police force more than her. No one except him, maybe. ‘So here we are.’ George tried to move away from his work. ‘I feel like I’ve missed out on so much. Thanks for all the photos by the way, but I still feel like I’ve missed it all.’ The photos — Sarah had sent through photos of their daughter at significant events. Dressed up for a Harry Potter party, a witch at Halloween, surrounded by presents at Christmas and on a sun-drenched beach during a summer break on a Spanish island. In every one their daughter was beaming with delight, in every one she was getting older, and every one had the ability to stop George in his tracks and bring him to his knees.

  ‘I know. You shouldn’t miss any more George. You understand that I needed to take her away. We both needed space — and time.’

  George did understand. He didn’t like it, but he did understand. His job had brought evil right to their doorstep, to his family home, and George had made the mistake of thinking he could control it. But he hadn’t been able to. Now the threat was gone but the scars and the fear . . . they would take longer.

  ‘You’re back now.’

  ‘I am. I needed to talk about me, too, not just Charley.’

  George was suddenly aware that she had tensed up again, where she seemed to have been starting to relax.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘There’s no easy way, George, you know, I tried to work out how to say it—’

  ‘Just say it then.’

  ‘I’m going to need a divorce.’

  George had picked up his coffee cup. He bumped it back down on the table. Hot coffee slopped over both sides. ‘You didn’t have to break it to me like that!’ He smiled, but he kept his eyes downwards on his drink.

  ‘I did say there was no easy way.’

  ‘I guess not.’

  ‘Are you surprised?’

  ‘Well, yes. I mean I didn’t think we were there yet. Obviously I was way off.’

  ‘We’ve been apart for what, two years? More than that, really. Can you really say it hasn’t even crossed your mind?’

  ‘Divorce? Never.’

  ‘That I might ask?’

  ‘No, never.’ George was aware that his voice carried an edge. He supped back at his coffee to try and calm his mind.

  ‘Well, then, I’m even more sorry if this is a bit of a shock. I didn’t think it would be totally out of the blue. We don’t need to talk about it now, I’ll give you a little bit of time to get used to the idea and we can talk again.’

  ‘Get used to the idea?’

  ‘You know what I mean, George.’

  ‘I don’t think I do. This isn’t changing the wallpaper in the living room, Sarah. This is everything to me. I know we have been spending time apart and I know the reasons for that, but they were all about you feeling safe, you and Charley.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘So who is he then?’

  ‘Who is who?’

  ‘Don’t play games. You said you needed a divorce. The only reason you would need a di
vorce is if you wanted to get married. So who is he?’

  Sarah sighed. She looked flustered all of a sudden. ‘George Elms, detective. It has been two years in total.’

  ‘I know that.’

  ‘Well, what did you expect?’

  ‘It’s probably best I don’t answer that.’

  ‘You’ve got no right to be angry with me, George.’

  ‘That another one of your rules?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You take yourself off, tell me I’m not allowed to make contact, not allowed to come and find you, that you would call me. Now twelve months down the line you’re back to tell me how I’m allowed to feel about it all.’

  ‘Because when you did contact me, when you did find us, our daughter was taken. I was taken. Who knows what could have happened. I still can’t even think about it, George, after all this time. We were at the mercy of a madman and there was nothing you could do about it.’

  ‘I did do something about it. We survived that. As a family. We came through it. It was a tough period, but that’s all done with now. I can understand you needed a little time away, I know why. But it’s done. He’s gone.’

  ‘Yes, George, that madman has gone, but he brought something out in you. Suddenly my husband was an utter stranger. And can you promise there won’t be another madman further down the line? A queue of them, maybe? Look at what you’ve gone through in the last few years, even if we weren’t directly involved. You couldn’t just come home from that and play happy families. You can’t just be a normal dad getting off early for sports days or being there for Christmas. How damaging do you think it is for Charley when her dad comes home with black eyes, or blown up, or shot at? Or what if you don’t come home one day? Lord knows that would be hard enough right now, but if we’re back as a family unit, if we let you back in? There would be no coming back from that. She would be destroyed. And so would I, George, so would I.’