Missing Read online

  ‘There’s more to this than some contraband. There has to be. This had to get through.’

  Bobby checked his watch. ‘Yeah it did. For your sake.’

  Shaun also checked the time. It was 3:47 p.m.

  ‘Can you listen in to what they’re doing in Canterbury?’ Bobby asked.

  ‘You what?’

  ‘Canterbury. Where they’re talking about the snatch. Can you listen to that on your radio?’

  Shaun grabbed the radio from his belt. ‘Yeah.’ He switched to the channel covering Canterbury. The operator was talking about a road traffic collision in the city centre. A major job like the abduction would probably have its own channel assigned by now.

  ‘As soon as the lorries are clear there should be an update.’

  Almost as Bobby stopped talking the tone of the operator on the radio changed.

  ‘Zulu Three, are you available for an immediate call?’

  ‘Go ahead, Control.’

  ‘Zulu Three, we are receiving a call that might be linked to the abduction job in the city centre. A female caller who says she and her son were forced into a car earlier today and have been kept locked in a room. She says someone just threw a phone into the room. She’s called 999, but doesn’t know if there are still people with her.’

  ‘Received, Control — show us en route.’

  Shaun bit his lip as the control room updated with the location. It was a cider farm just outside of Canterbury. A lot of other patrols also called up and confirmed they would make their way. Someone with local knowledge called up to confirm that the farm was no longer in use.

  ‘Shouldn’t be long now, Sarge.’ Bobby had his flask in his hand, he tipped it right back, catching the last few drips on his tongue. ‘And perfect timing . . . I’m all out of rum.’

  ‘They had better be okay,’ Shaun spat.

  Bobby shrugged. ‘I got sold this same as I sold it to you. I do my bit, convince you to do your bit and they do theirs.’

  Shaun felt his anger flare. He was about to direct it towards Bobby when voices filled the radio again. The location was close to a police office. Two patrols had covered the distance and arrived at the scene at the same time. They described a dirt track entrance, no vehicles and an old farmhouse that appeared derelict in the distance. The controller confirmed that the female had said they were in a house.

  The radio went silent.

  Chapter 7

  The thump from the other side of the building was loud and sudden. The door to their makeshift cell rattled in its housing and the woman swept her boy up in her arms, crushing him as she pulled him tight. She pushed her back firmly against the far wall while the boy stared wide-eyed and expectant at the door.

  Another loud thud. Heavy footsteps and indiscernible shouts that filtered through the walls and the gap under the door. The boy took a sharp intake of breath and he pushed himself backwards into her chest. The door handle rattled suddenly. Then the door flexed from a solid blow with a cracking splintering sound. Another blow came a split second later and the door flew in on its hinges. The boy screamed.

  A man strode in with a gun levelled in both hands. He wore a military-style helmet and his face was covered in a black material, but as she panned down his body, she saw the word POLICE stitched in white lettering onto his navy overall. All at once she felt her body slump as the fear and tension drained out of it to be replaced by a sudden swathe of relief. Tears blurred her vision of two more figures following behind.

  ‘You’re safe now, ma’am’ The lead officer bent down and rested his hand on her shoulder. ‘We’ve come to get you out of here.’ The words were muffled through the material and were soft in her ear. She allowed herself to be helped to her feet, but she wouldn’t let go of her boy — maybe not ever again. Her thighs burned as she found her feet, her muscles stiff from lack of movement, her whole body had been tight with tension.

  The men led her through the house. She’d been blindfolded on the way in and this was the first time she had been able to see where they had been held prisoner. They had to walk up a flight of stairs from the basement and the front door was directly in front. It was a big house, old and run down. No one could have been living here. She was told to be careful on the stairs as some were missing. The floorboards on the ground floor were also gone and chunks of ceiling littered the hall. The front door already hung open, more officers were waiting for her. She narrowed her eyes at the sudden burst of natural light as she made her way through. A car was pulled across the entrance and a rear door was open. The hands that guided her in were gentle this time, the voices kind.

  * * *

  Shaun had dropped to a squat. One hand down, fingers splayed for support, his head bent forward as he listened to the updates over his radio. The team were in. They gave updates as they went through each room in turn. It was maddening. ‘Ground floor CLEAR!’ he heard.

  Shaun gripped his nose. He daren’t breathe.

  ‘Heading downstairs to the basement area. Locked door, standby, standby.’

  The pause that followed seemed to go on forever. Shaun scrunched his eyes tightly shut. He didn’t care about the instructions from Bobby anymore. He had plugged his earpiece back into his radio so he wouldn’t miss a single word. He held it roughly in his ear.

  ‘Contact, contact!’

  They’d found someone — hostile or friendly? The longest pause yet.

  ‘Two persons located, Control. An adult female and a juvenile male. It’s gonna be our missing persons.’

  Shaun spat out a sob. He had to bring one knee down as he threatened to topple forward. He opened his eyes and saw that Bobby had come off the edge and stepped towards him, just a pace or two. Shaun looked up. Bobby’s steps were deliberate, as if in slow motion, but his expression had lost none of its intensity. He stopped five metres away from the ledge and bit his bottom lip.

  Shaun spoke into his radio. ‘Control, confirm the two persons are all in order?’ His voice was still coarse. Bobby was still watching him intently.

  ‘Yes, yes. They will be conveyed to a medical facility but both appear to be in order. Zulu Three, if you are still with the two persons can you confirm their details please.’

  Shaun was still listening intently to his radio. Bobby was a little closer, he cast a shadow over him. Shaun rocked to his knees. The confirmation came through his earpiece of the two rescued persons. Their names and dates of birth. Shaun saw Bobby staring down at him, watching him intently. Bobby’s hands suddenly rose to his cheeks and he expelled air. He must have seen at last the fresh panic that Shaun had done his best to conceal.

  ‘It’s not them, is it?’ Bobby said. ‘It’s not your family!’ He was already pacing backwards, a sudden beaming smile lifted to the sky.

  Shaun found the strength to get back to his feet, his mind reeling. He started after Bobby. ‘Bobby! Help me, Bobby!’

  Bobby’s backwards walk was halted as his hip met with the raised wall. He stepped back up onto the edge, his hands out towards Shaun. ‘Not another step now, Sarge. Stay there.’ He cast a quick look over at the drop. The wind moved his hair round his face.

  Shaun did as he was told. He stopped with a two-metre gap. Not quite close enough.

  ‘I can’t help you, Sarge.’ A thick tear ran down Bobby’s cheek. He did nothing to blink it away. He looked as if his eyes struggled to focus, the alcohol taking its effect. ‘Just do as they say. You’ll get yours back, too. I promise.’

  ‘You can help me, Bobby. You’re the only person who can. Do they have my family? Tell me where my family are, Bobby. Come down from there and tell me what you know.’

  ‘I can’t, Sarge. I can only help my family. My wife. My boy. Now you have them, you tell them I did this for them. That I died for something.’

  ‘No one’s dying here, Bobby.’

  Bobby’s eyes flicked to his watch. ‘I hope you get yours too. Sorry, Sarge. Its 4 p.m. We’re out of time.’

  Bobby’s right foot stepped ba
ckwards into nothing. Shaun had been edging forwards and he made a last-ditch dive. Though his footing was lost in the gravel, his right arm arched over the wall in a grab. He felt a wisp of hair.

  But Bobby was gone.

  Shaun’s chest collided hard with the lip of the wall, his lungs were forced empty of air, his chin scraped on the brick. His feet scrabbled on the floor, his legs locked out, pushing him forwards so he could see over the edge and down. Bobby was already at the bottom, he was nothing more than a silhouette in the middle of the road, the red pool gathering around his body already visible, even from a hundred feet above. Shaun’s legs buckled and he fell back onto the gravel, still fighting for breath.

  Eventually, he managed to pull himself up to a sitting position, his back against the low wall. He twisted the radio from his belt loop and steadied his hands to work the buttons. He changed it back to the channel covering Langthorne, to where patrols were now chattering excitedly about the mess on the pavement below. An ambulance had been positioned just around the corner as the negotiation had been ongoing. They were already with Bobby. Shaun knew it was hopeless; no one survived such a fall. Sure enough, the paramedic called life extinct after just a few moments. The patrol sergeant took over the air, he instructed officers to remain on their cordons, declared the area an incident scene and requested the detective sergeant on duty in the local CID to be made aware. All standard stuff. Some of the instructions were directed towards him too, he was told to remain at the jump site until he could be replaced by a patrol. They would carry out a search and then man a pointless cordon until the DS had been out for a pointless look. Shaun glanced back over at the bundle of Bobby’s belongings and found his feet. The stuff was right against the rail line.

  On closer inspection, the bundle was a long, black jacket and a small rucksack. He checked the jacket first. Bobby’s wallet was in the inside pocket, it was busy with receipts, bus tickets and handwritten notes. Nothing that stuck out as significant. Shaun took out a provisional driving licence card: Robert Leonard, 19 Sidney Street, Langthorne. Shaun knew the road, it was a row of terraced houses at the top of the town. Most were council-owned two-up-two-downs. He took his notebook out of his pocket and calmed his shaking hands enough to note the details. The rest of the coat had some betting slips, more bus tickets and a bundle of vouchers for school computers from a local superstore. He threw it back on the floor and turned his attention to the rucksack. The front pocket had a packet of cigarette papers that had spilled out of a near-empty tobacco pouch, some remnants of cannabis, and a door key. He shifted his attention to the main compartment. He immediately saw a long white wire and pulled it free. He recognised a remote radio device similar to something he had used previously when doing covert work. It had a battery pack, a receiver unit with a switch to move up and down through radio channels and a microphone with a clip. The microphone was a specialised design that would transmit constantly when the unit was switched on, rather than only on the press of a button. He also found a small blue plastic box that snapped open to reveal a squashy headphone with a tiny aerial. The final part of the set, a fully concealable earpiece connected to the receiver unit. The only other item in the main part of the bag was a cheap-looking Nokia phone. Shaun nearly missed the final pocket on the back of the bag. It held a small white envelope, which he flipped over to read the front:

  SHAUN CARTER

  His pulse quickened again. In his eagerness to open the envelope, he ripped the single sheet of folded paper and had to hold it back together to read the message.

  You’ll know how to wear the wire I expect. We will require further assistance. Keep the phone on. This is how you get your family back. No one else is looking for them. This is just between us now, Shaun.

  Shaun heard footfalls on the gravel behind him and he snapped his head around. Two uniformed officers approached, one offered a cheery wave. Shaun stuffed the note and the wire kit in his hoody front pocket. He pushed the phone into his jean pocket as he stood to greet them.

  ‘Hey!’

  ‘How’s it going, Sergeant?’ The cop had PC LEVERITT, LANGTHORNE in dirty lettering on a Velcro strip. ‘I hope you’re not in any sort of competition with the other negotiators?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Competition? This would be a black mark, right?’ PC Leveritt smiled.

  ‘Oh. Yeah, I guess so.’

  ‘No disrespect. I know you negotiators are well drilled but I always say if they’re going to jump, they’re going to jump. Not much anyone can do about it.’

  ‘You might be right. One thing’s for sure, though . . . I need to get on with the report.’

  He brushed past the two officers without making eye contact.

  Chapter 8

  Shaun neared a place that was instantly familiar, despite never having been to this particular hospital before. Every hospital did morgues the same, and they were always found in the depths of the basement. As he approached, the heavy double doors swung open and he almost collided with a porter making his exit. He looked startled to find someone upright and talking. As the doors swung back to close, the thick plastic that hung from their bottoms swept the mottled concrete.

  ‘You might not be expecting me!’ Shaun blurted out, having been caught out himself.

  The porter looked blank.

  ‘Sorry, I’m Sergeant Shaun Carter, I’m part of an investigation following the death—’

  ‘It don’t matter to me. Who are you here to see?’ The porter was curt, clearly having a bad day.

  Shaun still clutched his warrant in his hand. He let it fall back to hanging round his neck on a lanyard. ‘I’m here to see Leonard, Robert Leonard. He’ll be your latest arrival I’d imagine.’

  The porter spun silently on his heels and walked back through the doors. Shaun followed into a wide corridor with bare concrete walls busy with pipes and ducts feeding the living in the wards above. The left wall contained a number of whiteboards with handwritten names and admittance dates and times on them. The porter scanned these boards, moving along the wall as he did so. Shaun noticed the board labelled ‘infants’ and his discomfort increased. The porter continued to assess the boards and Shaun turned to face the opposite wall where a number of polished metal doors were arranged neatly over three levels. Each one represented the end of a human life.

  ‘Be out in the overflow.’

  ‘Oh, right. Busy then?’

  ‘Not me. This ain’t my job normally. I’m just the porter. I got to be down here covering. There ain’t enough of us, see?’

  ‘Seems a common theme,’ Shaun replied. He flicked a glance at his watch, aware that he might not have much time.

  The porter walked past him. ‘Overflow fourteen.’ He pushed back through the doors.

  Overflow fourteen was near where he had first stepped out of the daylight into the underside of the building. The huge open space had been largely taken over by big squares of blue tarpaulin. Each could take eighteen of the freshly departed, stacked in feet-to-feet formation. They had zips down the middle of each side and a spinning fan. All the fans going at once combined to provide their own layer of white noise.

  They stopped at number fourteen. ‘He’s in here. Middle left. I don’t need to see it.’ The porter walked behind one of the other overflow fridges before Shaun could assure him that, no, he didn’t. By the time Shaun had pulled the long zip from top to bottom he could smell cigarette smoke.

  The bodies were stacked three high and three along. The metal stretcher was on rungs, it slid out smoothly to yield up a black body bag. Zipping this open revealed a second layer: a white cloth bag stained a ruby red and tight enough for Shaun to make out facial features.

  ‘Jesus!’ He stepped back, just slightly. No matter how many times he saw the dead, no matter their state, he always half expected movement.

  The cloth inner also had a zip. Shaun tugged this open and Bobby Leonard’s dead eyes were revealed against his waxy skin. There was obvious trauma to the skull;
it was severely misshapen and the hair matted with dried blood. The lower jaw was missing and it was obvious that the neck was broken — the head hung unnaturally low. Shaun pulled the tray out further, far enough to get two poles locked out from underneath that acted as a stand. The paramedics had cut Bobby’s clothes in their futile efforts to keep him alive and Shaun took in his near-naked form. His leather hat lay on his chest. Shaun focused on what he was looking for. His attention moved to Bobby’s head, which was turned sideways, left ear uppermost. Shaun checked it and it was clear. He had stuffed some blue gloves in his pocket from the boot of the car, he pulled them on and reached in, getting his palm under Bobby’s right cheek. He lifted the head but couldn’t turn it around, a likely combination of the muscles starting to stiffen and the damage to the neck. He had to make do, feeling until his fingers pushed into the right ear. Sure enough, he felt something solid. It took a couple of seconds for him to work it free. It was a clear, rubber earpiece. The same type as he had been left for his own use. His search moved down Bobby’s body. Shaun searched the shredded shirt. He found a metal clip on the inside, just below a buttonhole, Shaun was sure it would have held the microphone. The rest of it could be anywhere. He continued down, patting each of Bobby’s jean pockets. He stopped at the rear pocket, there was a lump and he pulled it clear — the remains of a small, white power pack. It was largely broken up but he could see it was switched to “ON.” Shaun scooped up as much of the plastic pieces as he could and stuffed everything in the front of his hooded top, checking that the smoking porter had stayed out of sight.

  ‘Is there a problem?’

  Shaun was startled. A man stood in front of him. Shaun had missed his approach. He was tall, broad and in a shirt and tie. His top button was undone and the tie hung low in an untidy knot. His hands were pushed into the pockets of a brown jacket that hung open. He smacked of detective. Shaun recognised him from somewhere.

  ‘No problem,’ Shaun said. He patted Bobby’s shins, the last part of his search.