Never Return

by Stephen Barnes

  “In that case, tell us all about it Dr Crowley.”

  “Edward was found to be in possession of an illegal substance which he admitted was for his own personal use. We have a zero tolerance policy with regard to drug use.”

  “And what was the substance?” Fuller asked.

  “I’m afraid I don’t recall. I’m not an expert. Edward admitted his guilt and that was sufficient.”

  “But you didn’t report it to the police?”

  “We didn’t believe it was sufficiently serious to trouble your colleagues.”

  “How much of this substance was in his possession?”

  “I believe it was a relatively small quantity.”

  “Possession of drugs can be a serious offence Dr Crowley,” Garton pointed out. “For class A drugs, the maximum sentence is seven years imprisonment,” he added.

  Crowley looked shocked but didn’t reply.

  “Did Edward display any signs of drug abuse?” Fuller asked the cowering Dr Crowley.

  “I couldn’t say. Why do you ask?”

  “If he was a user, it would have shown in his behaviour.”

  “Why else would he have had drugs in his room?”

  “Well let me put it this way Dr Crowley. If Edward wasn’t a user, what else might he have been?” Fuller asked.

  Beads of perspiration began to appear on Crowley’s extensive forehead. “Now you mention it, I do recall Edward behaving strangely.”

  Fuller smiled. “I guess a user would be less damaging to the reputation of the academy than a dealer,” he said.

  Crowley’s expression hardened. “Let’s stick to the facts Detective Constable. Edward was removed from this academy due to possession of illegal drugs. He’d breached our code of conduct. We needed to know nothing more. He left and that was the end of the matter.”

  “Have you heard from Eddie at all since he left?” Fuller asked.

  “I don’t believe so.”

  “No correspondence with an address?”

  “There would have been no requirement for correspondence. Edward’s departure was a clean break,” Crowley insisted.

  “Well that seems clear enough Dr Crowley. Thanks for your help. It’s much appreciated,” Fuller said.

  The furrows faded from Reginald Crowley’s forehead as he escorted the detectives to the door.

  “So he was dealing,” Garton said when they reached the car park.

  “Seems likely,” Fuller replied as Garton marched towards the car. “Where are you going Garty? We can’t leave yet. We’ve still got work to do.”

  Chapter 43

  On his way out of the apartment, Paul checked his mail box and removed a small padded envelope. He slipped it into his pocket before hurrying outside to the taxi which was waiting in the street. Already in his pocket was the drawing which showed the path of the subway branch which led into Thorbury Hall.

  In view of his shattered nerves, the cab was the best option for the journey to the city centre. He studied the drawing as the taxi crawled through the traffic.

  Twenty minutes later, Paul was in the Inspector’s office explaining Peter’s theory to Evans and Marsh.

  “According to the drawing, the tunnel runs into the house beneath the west wing,” Paul said, indicating the relevant point. “Peter thinks there may have been access for a carriage from the grounds into the tunnel.”

  “Couldn’t this just be a plan that never happened?” Evans asked.

  “I don’t think so. It was with a letter demanding payment for the work. It was dated 1875. That’s after the death of Lord Alfred but his eldest son was just as keen on rail transport. Peter thinks he wanted to access the station directly from the house.”

  “So the carriage entrance would have been close to the hall?” Evans asked.

  “It isn’t on the drawing but if Peter’s guess is right it would make sense for it to have been close to the rear of the west wing,” Paul said.

  “It’s just a guess?”

  “I think it’s a reasonable assumption.”

  “And if Peter’s right, it might still be possible to use the carriage entrance to get inside the house?”

  “If it hasn’t been built over.”

  “I don’t remember anything like that when I was a student at the Business School,” Marsh said. “Why don’t we just open the hall up like we did before and get a search team in there?”

  “Because of the risks involved if Carol really is being held there. We’d need significant armed support and that could only be justified if we knew it was absolutely necessary,” Evans reasoned.

  “I guess you’re right,” Marsh admitted before the faint sound of a mobile ringtone took them by surprise.

  “That’s my phone,” Paul declared. He reached into his jacket pocket and removed the envelope, the source of the noise. He ripped it open, pulled out the phone and took the call.

  “Sorry about the deception Dr Cahill,” the caller said. “This isn’t Tom.”

  “Who are you?”

  “Think of me as someone pursuing a special interest. Carol is alive and well. She’ll be staying with me for a while. I’ll call again.”

  “He’s gone,” Paul said after the call ended abruptly.

  “What did he say?” Evans asked.

  “That he wasn’t Tom. That Carol was alive. He said he’d call again.”

  “Was it the same voice as before, when you thought it was Tom?”

  “I think so. He said he was pursuing a special interest.”

  “That might fit my theory. No number I suppose?”

  “No. He said Carol was staying with him for a while. What do you think he meant by that?”

  “It’s what he might say if she was a guest in his home,” Marsh reasoned. “And if it is Eddie, he could be disturbed enough to think of Thorbury Hall as his home.”

  “Okay, let’s run with this tunnel theory,” Evans said. “I’ll see if I can get some uniform support to check the exterior of the hall. If all the doors and windows are totally secure and there’s no possible means of access through the tunnel or anywhere else, I think we can discount the possibility of the house being used to hold a captive.”

  “And since we discovered the drugs lab, no one could have accessed the tunnel through unit twelve due to the police presence,” Marsh added.

  “If there’s any indication of forced entry to the hall or of anyone accessing the tunnel, we can take a view on the next step,” Evans said. “You must both have been familiar with the grounds before they were returned to nature.”

  “Most of the students used the grounds when I was an undergraduate,” Paul said.

  “Right up to the closure of the hall,” Marsh added.

  “Can you help us to check if there’s a way into the tunnel?” Evans asked Paul.

  “I’ll do whatever’s necessary to find Carol.”

  “Right, you wait here. I’ll see Chris Hinton and get his approval for a support team. Keep the phone on but don’t use it or you might miss his next call. Is it fully charged?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “And how the hell did it get into your pocket?”

  “The envelope was in my mail box this morning. I picked it up when I was hurrying out to the taxi. I put it in my pocket and forgot about it.”

  “Thorbury postmark,” Evans said, scanning the envelope which Paul had thrown onto the desk.

  “I’ll get an evidence bag,” Marsh said. “There may be DNA. I would guess the phone’s been wiped.”

  Evans looked across at his former colleague. “Stay calm Paul,” he said. “We’ll find her.”

  Evans headed for Hinton’s office and Marsh left in search of an evidence bag leaving Paul alone. He studied the drawing once more. If the caller was to be believed, Carol was still alive but she was far from safe. The past may hold the key to her rescue but could it also be the reason for her plight?

  Chapter 44

  On the opposite side of the administration buildin
g at the Little Howton Academy of Science, Technology and Finance, there was a large rectangular lawn and a series of elaborately tiled paths which led to various locations on the small campus. Four students were sitting on a bench at the side of the lawn as others walked by along the paths. Fuller approached the group on the bench with Garton trailing behind him, unsure of what could be gained from prolonging their visit.

  “We’re looking for the Honourable Edward Thorbury,” Fuller said in the most refined accent he could muster.

  “And you are?” said one of the group in a patronising tone.

  “Lord Thorbury,” Fuller declared with sufficient authority to allay any doubts.

  “Oh I see.” The student sprang to his feet and appeared contrite. “I’m sorry Sir,” he said, “I’m afraid I don’t know Edward. We’re all new. I’m David Filkins.”

  “Could you help me find him, Filkins?” Fuller asked. “This is my brother, Sir Percy, Edward’s Uncle.”

  Filkins was short in stature and his round, chubby face was pale in contrast to his tanned companions. Fuller was amused by their obvious excitement at meeting such illustrious visitors.

  “How do you do Sir,” Filkins said, looking at Garton who was straining to keep a straight face. The youth turned back to Fuller. “What subject is Edward studying Sir?” he asked.

  “Chemistry.”

  “I can show you the science block Sir. It’s this way. I’m sure there’ll be people there who know Edward.”

  Filkins led Edward Thorbury’s bogus relatives towards the science block which could be seen about fifty meters ahead at the end of one of the paths. After entering the building, Filkins spotted a familiar face. Jonathan Cartwright had been a year above him at the school which had instilled the sense of duty he was demonstrating admirably.

  Filkins approached the familiar blond haired figure standing in the science laboratory doorway. “Cartwright, I see the old school is well represented here. This is Lord Thorbury, he’s looking for his son, Edward,” he announced.

  Cartwright ignored the visitors. “Well if it isn’t Pig Face Filkins. If I’d known you’d be coming here I’d have gone to Oxford instead,” he declared.

  The older student towered over his former schoolmate. He scowled at Filkins who stood his ground and mirrored the stern expression.

  “They wouldn’t have you Cartwright,” Filkins said. “Not after the trouble over your bookmaking business.”

  “Why don’t you disappear Pig Face?” Cartwright growled before Filkins walked away, satisfied with his repost.

  Cartwright weighed up the two intruders. “I know Eddie,” he said to Fuller. “You aren’t Eddie’s father. He’s dead. Who are you?”

  “We’re Eddie’s business associates,” Fuller said. “He’s disappeared. We need to find him and we don’t have time to mess about. Where is he?”

  “He isn’t here. They threw him out months ago. You’d know that if you were who you say you are.”

  “We know they threw him out but we also know he keeps in touch.”

  “Do you really?”

  “Michael was here last weekend wasn’t he?”

  “Who’s Michael?”

  “I think you know who Michael is,” Fuller said, staring intently at Cartwright.

  The youngster returned the stare without blinking. “Michael was Eddie’s friend. He hasn’t been here since Eddie left. And anyway, he’s dead. Someone shot him.”

  “We know about that too. It’s a dangerous business. Where can we find Eddie?”

  “Eddie hasn’t been back since they kicked him out.”

  “That doesn’t mean you don’t know where he is.”

  Cartwright was ignoring Fuller now, his attention was focused on his phone which he was tapping with a level of skill neither of the DCs could dream of emulating. He looked up after pressing ‘send’. “And if I did,” he said. “Why would I tell you?”

  “Because we aren’t very nice people,” Fuller said. “And not being nice to you would be a pleasure.”

  Cartwright smiled coldly at Fuller. “Eddie’s in Thorbury,” he stated with apparent indifference to the threat. “That’s all I know. I heard he’d been encouraged to think he could reclaim his lost heritage.”

  “What does that mean?” Garton asked as Fuller noticed the group of young men gathering behind him. Cartwright ignored the question.

  “You’ve called the cavalry I see,” Fuller said, turning towards the helpers summoned with impressive speed by the text.

  “I believe it’s time for you to leave, Lord Thorbury,” Cartwright said.

  Fuller reckoned the students had a big enough advantage and flashing the warrant card was no longer an option. Garton appeared to be in agreement with his colleague’s judgement but Fuller felt the need to end the encounter on a winning note. “You need to hope we find Eddie,” he said to Cartwright. “Because we know where to find you and as I said before, we’re not very nice people.”

  “Goodbye gentlemen,” Cartwright said as Fuller and Garton departed, pushing their way past his minders.

  “There’s something going on here which needs investigating,” Garton said as they retraced their steps along the path.

  “I think we’ve discovered enough to be going on with,” Fuller replied.

  “They were a bit brash weren’t they? We shouldn’t let them get away with it,” Garton said.

  “No Garty, we shouldn’t. But don’t worry, there’ll be a chance to do the right thing in due course. Trouble is, posh boys like them think they can do what they like.”

  Chapter 45

  Having been admitted to the grounds by the caretaker, Paul, Evans and Marsh set off towards the west wing of Thorbury Hall. Following Chris Hinton’s approval, a team of six PCs were in transit to the university tasked with checking the exterior of the house for any sign of forced entry. The officers were dressed as maintenance staff to disguise their true purpose. Paul was yet to receive another call to his mobile from the man with the ‘special interest’ and was anxious to complete the search for the tunnel entrance without alerting Carol’s captor.

  “The officers will be well spread out when they reach the hall,” Evans said to Paul. “There’s little chance of them arousing the suspicion of anyone who might be inside.”

  “It’s hard to see anything through this lot,” Paul said as they traversed the jungle which separated the house from the campus. “The grounds used to be immaculate. The university employed a team of gardeners to look after them.”

  “I can’t believe the state they’ve let it get into,” Marsh said. “It makes it difficult to remember the way it used to be.”

  Eventually, they reached the area of the grounds which Paul had indicated on the drawing. The sprawling vegetation shielded them from any prying eyes inside the house.

  “We should start looking for signs of the tunnel entrance,” Paul said.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Marsh asked.

  “If there was a carriage entrance, there would have been a ramp leading down to the tunnel. A ramp with a retaining wall on each side,” Paul explained.

  “Well it must have been filled in years ago,” Marsh said. “Otherwise I’d know about it. And if it was filled in, there’d be no sign of it now and no way we could use it for access to the hall.”

  “Which would mean we’re wasting our time,” Evans moaned.

  “We might not be,” Paul replied. “When I was an undergraduate, there was a horseshoe shaped wall near the west wing with bench seating around the inside which the students used when the weather was fine.”

  “I remember it,” Marsh recalled. “We had tutorials there on sunny days. No one ever wondered why the wall was there.”

  “It was like the bin store, the entrance to the original subway. You see it every day and never bother to think about its original purpose,” Paul said.

  “And what do you think now?” Evans asked.

  “It could have been the top of the reta
ining wall. The few rows of brickwork above ground after the ramp was filled in. The surface inside the wall was grass. It might have been possible to dig through to the entrance if the tunnel wasn’t very far below ground level.”

  “I think it’s reasonable to assume the wall still exists,” Marsh concluded.

  Paul started to search the vegetation for any sign of the wall. Evans and Marsh joined the search and moments later, Marsh was the first to achieve apparent success. “This might be a clue,” he said, lifting up a broken brick.

  “And here’s an even better clue,” Paul said after parting the bush which blocked their path. “I think we’ve found it.”

  Evans and Marsh joined Paul on the other side of the bush. Just ahead was the partially degraded brickwork which still formed the horseshoe shaped wall.

  “Let’s take a look,” Evans said.

  Paul was the first to reach the wall. After scanning the area inside it he removed a piece of tarpaulin which someone had carefully disguised with cuttings from the nearby shrubs.

  “The ramp mustn’t have been completely filled in,” Paul said, peering into the hole the tarpaulin had covered. “Looks like they built a wooden floor below ground level. I can see the supports. Someone has broken through the floor after digging out the earth on top of it. It wouldn’t have been a difficult job. I can see a metal door which looks wide enough for a carriage. This must be the entrance to the tunnel.”

  “Can you get down there?” Evans asked.

  “I might be able to swing down. It isn’t very deep and I can see a ladder on the floor.” Paul grasped one of the wooden beams and lowered himself into the hole. “There’s no handle on the door,” he said. “Looks like it opens outwards. It must be bolted on the inside which means there could be someone in the hall, especially with the ladder being there on the floor.”

  “What do we do now?” Marsh asked.

  “I don’t think I’d be inclined to risk a raid under any circumstances,” Evans replied. “We should wait until Paul gets another call from Eddie or whoever was pretending to be Tom.”