North End

by Jason Nevercott

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was Thursday night just after 10.45 p.m. Harry was listening again to the mobile phone message that Jodie had left him earlier in the afternoon - he must have been in a mobile phone black spot when she phoned him. But he still did not know what to think of it – a tube driver and some cannibal creatures were apparently responsible for Jodie’s going missing and probably that of some or all of his other missing persons on the Northern Line late at night. Surely this must be a big wind up in very poor taste, thought Harry; it could not possibly be true.

  He had not really thought much of Jodie since his interviewing her yesterday, other than that she had not told him the whole or any of the truth – just as she was also not doing so now, he thought.

  But why would she make such a story up? he asked himself. Then he thought of her behaviour while he and Sarah had been interviewing her: she was obviously very unhappy at being asked about her disappearance; she had also not liked some of their questions. Furthermore, she was capable of being nasty, to judge from her abusive behaviour the night she had gone missing. Yes, Harry thought, Jodie was capable of trying to make a fool out of him and the police to get some kind of weird teenage revenge for being embarrassed.

  And yet...although she was obviously nervous she did sound so convincing in the message saying that this other teenager called Tom had rescued her after the tube driver and the creatures had kidnapped her, and that the only reason she had not said this before was because of it being too unbelievable. Yes, it was certainly that, he thought. He then remembered what good liars some people could be, especially young teenage girls.

  No, he thought, there was obviously no way what she said could be true: this was north London on planet Earth, not the world of some teenage horror novel. Why he was even wasting his time thinking about this? he wondered as he got ready for bed. He was not starting his shift until tomorrow afternoon but felt very tired. His doctor had told him he had been overdoing it recently and should take a holiday, but as usual he had ignored him. He fell asleep soon after his head hit his pillow.

  Jodie and Tom met again the next day on Friday, just after 5 p.m. the day after they had followed the driver. Before this Tom had searched the electoral role on the internet but could not find the name of the person who lived at the flat they saw the driver at.

  They went to Golders Green station again and followed the same routine as yesterday. This time they had to wait about two hours before they saw the driver. During this time, Tom was worried that the tube staff would notice them and talk among themselves about them, which might alert the driver.

  At 7.21 p.m., he again pulled in on a southbound tube, left his cab, and went down the stairs. Tom assumed he was going to the southbound platform as before and quickly alerted Jodie. But after a couple of minutes he saw that he had not yet reached this platform. He called Jodie, ‘He should be there by now but he’s not. I’m going to go to the station entrance to see where he is.’

  ‘Ok, I’ll wait here,’ said Jodie. ‘Be careful.’

  Tom carefully approached the entrance but there was no sign of the driver. He looked round the corner to the tunnel leading to the southbound platform in case the driver had stopped on his way there for some reason. He saw Jodie at the bottom of the stairs and went to her.

  ‘Did you see him?’ asked Jodie.

  ‘Jodie,’ Tom said a little annoyed. ‘I thought you were going to stay where you were. He could’ve seen you. No, I haven’t seen him. Come on, let’s go and look outside the station.’

  They rushed towards the entrance then slowed when they got near the barriers in case they attracted attention. Outside, they quickly looked around them but could not see much as there were lots of people about as well as some buses in the bus station in front of the station. It was also now quite dark.

  Tom thought he saw the back of the driver to the left of him. ‘Jodie. Here. Follow me,’ he said and they went after the person they thought might be the driver.

  It was the driver and he was walking towards North End Road in the direction of North End. What’s he up to? Tom wondered. He’s not going to visit the station is he? The driver disappeared around the corner, as Tom checked his watch: it was 7.27 p.m.

  It was just before 7.30 p.m., and Harry was in his office in Golders Green police station, looking through the case file of another missing person who shared the characteristics of last being seen on the Northern Line late at night while being intoxicated. His detective’s instincts would not let him give up on these ‘linked’ cases.

  He yawned as he looked at her details. Her name was Margaret Tooley, a 60-year-old teacher from Hendon, where one of the other victims, James Ridley, was also from; she had gone missing in December of last year. Her ex-husband had eventually reported her missing a week after he was supposed to meet her. She was caught on CCTV at Camden Town tube station. From her picture, Harry could see that she had an unhealthy almost drawn face, which fitted in with her being an alcoholic.

  He was now convinced again that the links between these cases that he had found, including Jodie’s, were more than co-incidences. But he certainly did not believe Jodie’s story which would explain the links. He did now think, however, that there could be some truth in it. Perhaps Jodie had been so intoxicated by drink or even drugs that she misinterpreted what she saw. It was possible that she was just attacked by the tube driver she mentioned. Harry knew he had to speak to her alone without her parents. He would call her.

  But before he did this he got up from his desk and stretched; he wanted a cigarette. He looked out of the window and noticed the black clouds in the sky: there would be a big storm soon, he thought. But he still went down to the car park. On his way he popped into the canteen, where there were a couple of his fellow detectives and some uniformed officers just starting the late shift. Harry ordered a cup of coffee; while he was waiting he overheard a conversation between a couple of the uniformed officers.

  ‘I’m telling you, last Sunday there was this teenage boy telling me he had seen a girl being kidnapped by some creatures...it must have been the same girl who’d been reported missing but I’d completely forgot about this teenage boy...‘

  Harry’s interest was suddenly very great.

  ‘...just the same as this crazy story here...’ the policeman continued to tell his colleague.

  Harry now looked intently at P.C. Terry Roberts, who was showing his colleague an article in a newspaper about Micky Ford the night-time tube worker who claimed to have been attacked by some creatures.

  Harry rushed over to Terry, who told him in greater detail about what had happened last Sunday. Harry then went back to his office with the newspaper, now forgetting completely about wanting a cigarette. His heart was pumping, as he tried to phone Jodie. Her phone went straight to the answer phone.

  ‘Damn,’ he said to himself as he put the phone down. He then phoned her parents, who said Jodie had said she was visiting a friend. He could not believe his bad luck. He told her parents as calmly as he could to get her to call him when she returned. He still did not know whether or not to believe Jodie, but after what P.C. Terry Roberts had said and the newspaper story he knew there was some truth in what she was saying, and he needed to speak to her about this before anyone else got hurt.

  He phoned the newspaper and eventually got hold of the journalist, from whom he got Micky Ford’s telephone number and address. He arranged to meet the tube worker at his home in Hampstead in half ‘n hour. He grabbed his coat and rushed down to his car. It was 7.51 p.m.