Missing Page 6

  He gave it a few minutes then stepped out. Nineteen Sidney Street. Bobby Leonard’s family home. He had read the log, he knew his wife and grandson had been unwilling to speak to police at any length after their ordeal and being told of Bobby’s demise. He guessed by the reaction of his detective colleagues that they had tried again and got the same response. But Shaun needed to know if they could help him. Despite knowing that just knocking on their front door might put his own family at risk, he couldn’t just sit and do nothing.

  He hesitated again at the door. He took a second to look around. The world around him seemed to be going about its business. He knocked twice.

  ‘Who is it?’ A female voice. She sounded annoyed. It came from the other side of the door. There was a spy hole and he held his warrant card up to it.

  ‘My name is Shaun Carter. I’m a police officer, but I’m also a negotiator.’

  ‘I’ve spoken to you lot. I’ve told you that I’m done with it for today. I just want to be left alone.’

  ‘I was with Bobby. When he jumped.’

  There was no response.

  ‘I was trying to talk him down. I couldn’t do it, I’m sorry . . .’

  Shaun paused for a reaction. He got nothing but silence.

  ‘If you have any questions or anything you need to know, I’m here. I’m so sorry.’

  Shaun left it a full minute. He couldn’t be sure she had even heard what he had said. He considered his options and took in his surroundings again. He was starting to attract attention: the net curtain of the bay window next door twitched; a group of lads slowed as they walked past with a football. He made a decision. He pushed off the door and headed back to his car.

  * * *

  Shaun made straight for the police station. He booted up the Automatic Number Plate Recognition database and selected the cameras shown at the exit from the port. By selecting a short timescale he was able to identify the traffic leaving the port that was likely to have come from the Spirit of Britain ferry docking. The search on the ANPR system could be further narrowed as it filtered down to vehicle type and specifically for anything Spanish registered. He swigged at a cup of water as the system ran the search criteria. It took nearly a minute for a shortlist of six thumbnails to appear with the time next to each. Two lorries had left together at 15:58 hours. One had Manesco daubed on the front in small letters. Shaun noted the registration number and put it back into the search database. Another minute passed while he watched a maddening circle twirl on the screen. The hitlist was short again. One hour, twenty minutes after hitting the outbound ANPR camera at the port, it had hit again. This time inbound. They’d got back on a ferry. Fuck! They were gone!

  Shaun stood up and backed away from his terminal as if it had suddenly burst into flames. His breathing shallowed as panic rose up through him. They’d made a drop somewhere within a thirty-minute range of the port and then they’d headed straight back to the continent. There was no quick way of tracing them now. And without that lorry he had run out of links.

  He thrust his hands into his pockets and pulled out the handwritten note with George Elms’s number on it. He couldn’t sit on his hands until tomorrow and then hope he got his kid and ex-wife back safely. He had to be doing something. He needed a Plan B. He needed help.

  Chapter 10

  George was just back home when he got the call. Home was the top right flat in a large building built in the shape of a crescent on Langthorne’s seafront, which he’d rented both for the proximity to work and for the views. He’d just made a coffee and was on a wooden seat fitted into the bay window, watching an orange moon reflected in the fidgeting water. It was 9 p.m.

  ‘George Elms.’

  ‘George, hey! It’s Shaun Carter. We met earlier today.’

  ‘Of course we did. How you going?’

  ‘Fine yeah. I didn’t know if you would still be at work.’

  ‘I am technically. I knocked off a half-hour ago. I mean I’m still on the clock but the night cover DS came in and sent me home.’

  ‘Oh. I’m sorry, is this a bad time? I didn’t know you would have your work phone still switched on at home.’

  ‘I don’t. I haven’t switched that thing on for months. That’s why I gave you my personal. Everything okay, Shaun? Did you remember something about your conversation with Bobby Leonard?’

  Shaun didn’t reply immediately. George gave him time. ‘Yeah, I guess I did. I remembered quite a bit actually.’

  ‘Okay, so do you want to meet?’

  ‘I could do with it, I think. Yeah. But I’ve got a bit of a problem . . . it’s more urgent than you might realise.’

  ‘Tonight then. By the time tomorrow comes this is all someone else’s problem anyway.’

  ‘You can do tonight?’ George could hear the relief in Shaun’s voice.

  ‘Sure. Have you eaten? I haven’t yet. There’s a pizza place I know.’

  ‘I haven’t, but I think it will have to be the police station. I don’t know if there’s anyone watching me.’

  This was disturbing. George took a second or two before responding. ‘This sounds rather serious all of a sudden. Takeaway it is then.’

  * * *

  George parked in a side street and slipped into the rear entrance of Langthorne House police station. The oversized pizza box was cumbersome as he bundled into the service lift. When he got to his office the lights were already on. Shaun Carter was pacing the middle.

  ‘Shaun.’

  Shaun span to meet him, he immediately looked a man under stress. He was shorter and stockier than George. His arms were thick and well developed and he wore a wristband suggesting he was ex-military.

  ‘Thanks for coming in,’ Shaun said.

  ‘You’re welcome. What’s this all about?’

  ‘My conversation with Bobby Leonard was quite different to what you think. To what everyone thinks.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘I was picked out. You know I spoke to Bobby on a clifftop a few weeks ago. We spoke for a while and he got some information from me. He knew that I was covering all the weekends as negotiator, that I preferred to work alone, and he knew about my family. My ex-wife and my boy.’

  ‘Do you normally go into that much detail?’

  Shaun shook his head vigorously. ‘No, I didn’t tell him all that. I don’t know how he got the information about my family. He said that he got picked too. He said that these people have my boy and my ex-wife. They grabbed them from the street in Canterbury. He said he had a message for me from these people and if I did what he asked I would get my family back unharmed. I called up, did the checks I could from the top of that viaduct and there was an abduction job running in Canterbury. It sounded bad. I panicked. I did what he asked and the update came out on air almost straight away that the two people from the abduction had been released.’

  ‘It wasn’t your family.’ George was almost thinking out loud.

  ‘It wasn’t. Bobby knew it would be his boy and his wife getting out. He had obviously done what he needed to do. Then he jumped.’

  ‘Shit! So your family are okay?’

  ‘No. Far from it. I couldn’t get in touch. It’s not unusual for my ex to ignore my calls so I went round to her house. It’s all in darkness. Then I got this through after I spoke to you on the phone.’

  Shaun passed his phone over. George read a text message from the screen from Carol. It said, Do as they say, don’t know where I am Shaun. We are okay x.

  George handed it back. Shaun fiddled with the phone, then passed it over again. A second message on the screen from the same contact read: CLEVER BITCH HIDING THE PHONE. FEEL FREE TO TRACK IT. SHE’LL BE LONG GONE.

  Have you had any further contact? Any more demands?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘So they have your phone number. We can assume that’s how they’ll contact you?’

  ‘I guess so, yeah. There was nothing else.’

  ‘And Bobby was our link.’

&nb
sp; ‘Yes, and it makes sense now. His whole demeanour wasn’t right. I mean, I know people under that sort of stress. They don’t come across like normal people, but he was all over the place. I couldn’t put my finger on it. Then when you caught me searching his body I had found a wire on him.’

  ‘A wire? What sort of wire?’

  ‘Similar to what we use but a bit more up to date. A Bluetooth earpiece, the battery and device were all one, and I think it was the sort that uses a 4G network rather than a radio signal.’

  ‘So they were in contact with him while he was up there talking to you?’

  ‘The whole time I think. One of the rules was that I didn’t go out of earshot. They must have heard everything that was said and were pumping information into his ear. He genuinely might not have known any of it and was just repeating what they told him to.’

  ‘What did they have you do?’

  ‘I’ve been seeing a girl who works down Dover port. It’s nothing serious. I was holding out you know . . . with the wife. Look, she basically runs the team that assesses the vehicles coming off the ferries. They have a small in-house intel cell and they can stop and search what they like. I was told to contact her and to make sure that a vehicle got through. An HGV that was showing as transporting tomatoes.’

  ‘Any idea what they were really transporting?’

  ‘No. Bobby probably didn’t either. But whatever it was, they went to a lot of effort to make sure it got through the border.’

  ‘Do you remember the details?’

  ‘I have them. I found it on the ANPR system. The same system that tells me that the lorry was back on a ferry an hour later. I’ve lost them, George. I’ve lost everything. I don’t know what to do. I’m desperate here.’

  ‘Desperate enough to call me.’

  ‘I’m sorry. The last thing you want is to be dragged into something like this, George, but I don’t know who to talk to. They made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to anyone. Definitely not other coppers. They said just to wait for further instructions. I know you by reputation. This might be a complete fuck-up, but I figured that if anyone understands how to get things done away from alerting the rest of the world, it might just be you. You’ve been in my shoes before, right?’

  George ran his hand through his hair. He scratched thoughtfully at his cheek. ‘I suppose so, but the motivation is different.’

  ‘Bobby Leonard played by the rules, I’m guessing he did what he needed to do by isolating me and getting my assistance. As soon as he did that his family were released. Totally unharmed. If I don’t fuck up, if I play by their rules then maybe they’ll just release my boy too?’

  ‘If you believed that you wouldn’t have called me. You’re a copper. The second they involved you, they upped the ante.’

  Shaun flopped in the chair on the opposite side of the desk. George remained standing, the delicious-smelling pizza was still untouched on the table.

  ‘I don’t know. I just don’t know. That was my plan — to play by their rules I mean. To do what they say. But I wanted a Plan B. If it all went wrong, if they didn’t give me back my boy I wanted to at least have a start on these people. If they hurt Tyler—’

  ‘I know how you feel, Shaun. I’ve been there — my kid threatened, my family threatened. I know what it’s like, that tense knot in your stomach. You did the right thing talking to someone else. I didn’t. I kept it all to myself and I made mistakes, the sort of mistakes that put everyone at risk.’

  ‘These people seem to know so much about me. I figured you’re a clean break. If I don’t know you, they can’t either.’

  ‘I’ve been described as many things. That’s a new one.’

  ‘What do we do, George? Where do we go from here?’

  George pondered his answer for a few seconds. ‘If you’re serious that these people might be watching you, then I suggest you do nothing. Let me do the legwork for now. I skimmed the details earlier. I need to review the whole thing, see if there’s anything relevant.’

  ‘I tried to talk to Bobby Leonard’s family. They might be the only link left.’

  ‘That would be the next obvious move. What happened?’

  ‘I went to the home address. I watched a couple of detectives go in. They must have only been in there five minutes — maybe less. They got a pill to be honest. I knocked on the door a few minutes after they left and she wouldn’t even open the door to me. I’ve checked the log and they’re just not engaging with us at all.’

  ‘She’s back at her home address then?’ George typed his password into the computer so he could access the police systems.

  ‘Yeah. Refused to stay in protected accommodation. Major Crime had sorted a hotel.’

  ‘That’s good for us.’

  ‘It is?’

  ‘Yeah. She’s not under guard and she’s at her home. I’ll go and speak to her there.’

  ‘She won’t speak to anyone, George.’

  ‘Hold tight. We just need a different approach.’

  Chapter 11

  9:40 p.m. George Elms stepped out into an evening where the shadows were long. The cool air concealed the lightest of drizzle. He left his car parked some distance away from the address and walked Sidney Street, along the pavement opposite the target address. It was a tightly packed row of terraced houses, two front bay windows top and bottom, a front door tucked in one of the corners. Typical of much of the terraced housing stock in Langthorne. As best as he could tell from his position, there was a weak light coming from a room at the back of number 19 and on the ground floor. Probably the kitchen. He walked past, continued until he reached the other end of the street, then he crossed over and doubled back. He gripped half a house brick in his jacket pocket, sourced from a building site on the way. A front door opened a few doors down from 19 and a man strode out purposefully. He called back towards the house as he walked a few paces across the pavement to his car. It was an angry shout and he didn’t look back as the front door was slammed shut from inside. The car revved hard as it pulled away. George had slowed his pace and dipped his head. He needn’t have bothered. No one was taking any notice of the figure walking close to the building line. When George got to number 19, the curtains had been pulled across untidily, bunched up on the back of an armchair that was pushed into the bay window. They left a gap, enough that he could see the light better, a light bulb hanging bare, off-centre and towards the rear in the ceiling. No signs of movement. He took a step back and checked around for a final time. The street had fallen back to silence. He pulled the brick from his pocket and took aim. The lounge window folded inwards with little resistance. The curtains fell shut as the brick pushed through. The tinkling of glass lasted just a few seconds and the street fell back to silence. He slipped off the gloves as he paced calmly to his car.

  He took his police radio out of the door pocket. By the time it had connected to the network the report was already being put out.

  ‘Zulu Four, can I divert you to an immediate please?’

  ‘Zulu Four, go ahead.’

  ‘Zulu Four, thank you, we are receiving a call from 19 Sidney Street, Langthorne. This is the victim of a kidnapping earlier today. She states that someone has just put her front window in. She is home with her young son.’

  ‘Received that, Control — show me en route.’

  George cut in. ‘Yankee One, Control.’

  ‘Yankee One, go ahead.’

  ‘I caught the last, Control. I’m just out for some refs. Confirm that was Sidney Street, Langthorne?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, Yankee One.’

  ‘Received that. I’m just around the corner. Keep that uniform patrol running but can you show me going to take a look.’

  ‘Received that. Thank you, Yankee One.’

  George pulled his car around and parked untidily into a space almost opposite. He was still clutching his radio as he got to the front door.

  ‘Yankee One, show me TA, please.’

  ‘Time of arrival noted.�
�

  He knocked at the door. ‘Police! Sharon, are you in there? It’s the police.’

  The door was pulled open almost immediately. He flapped his warrant card at the pale, stick-thin form of Sharon Leonard.

  ‘Come in!’ Her wide eyes gazed beyond him, out into the dark street. He pulled the door shut as he stepped into the lounge.

  The house brick lay with glass all around it on the cushion of the single-seat sofa. The lounge was small and busy inside; wall units, sofas and a cluttered coffee table gave it a claustrophobic feel. A hanging coat prodded him in the shoulder.

  ‘Bloody hell, Sharon!’ George exclaimed. ‘Are you okay? I was just around the corner. What happened?’

  Sharon had her hands over her mouth. Her face scrunched into a silent sob. She wore a threadbare dressing gown that George could see through to a cotton nightie underneath.

  ‘Are you and your boy okay?’

  Sharon jerked a nod and took a sharp intake of breath. ‘He was in bed. I was making a coffee. I just heard this smash all of a sudden, like. I didn’t see nobody, I didn’t go and have a look. I stayed in the kitchen back there and I called you lot.’

  George heard a car pull up hurriedly outside. Two doors opening and closing, then a torchlight against the window.

  ‘Looks like my uniformed colleagues are here, Sharon. I’m Detective Sergeant George Elms. I’ll get them to do a good sweep so we know you’re safe. Then we need a good chat about what’s going on — about how we keep you safe from now on, yeah? I know you’ve had a hell of a day.’

  She managed another nod. Her eyes flashed to the door as someone knocked on it. George showed the officers in. He led Sharon back through to the tight kitchen at the rear where she found a seat at a small table propped up against the wall. He noted a mug next to a kettle that still puffed steam from its spout. It jostled for position among the bottles of alcohol on the kitchen bench.