The Lost Years

by Colin Wade

  “What is it Kathy?”

  “Sir, William Hardacre is in reception. He is insisting on speaking with you now.”

  Mark steeled himself. William Hardacre was on his way up to his office. He had to think on his feet. Potentially, one of the prime suspects of this conspiracy was about to walk freely into his office, but he knew William Hardacre never did anything without some ulterior motive.

  William bounded into his office with all the arrogance of a man who thought he was untouchable.

  “Mark. Great to see you. How is your father?”

  “What do you want Mr Hardacre?”

  “OK. It’s going to be like that is it?”

  “Mr Hardacre. I am a very busy man, for obvious reasons. Is there something I can help you with?”

  His demeanour changed.

  “Well, quite frankly Mark, I would have thought it was fucking obvious. I want an explanation as to why you have arrested my two sons and kidnapped my granddaughter.”

  Mark had to stifle a laugh at the sheer audacity of the man.

  “Are you seriously suggesting that you don’t know why these things have happened?”

  “I don’t like your tone. What the hell are you implying?”

  “Oh, come on Mr Hardacre. Your dirty fingers are all over this.”

  William stopped and fixed his most intimidating stare at Mark.

  “You listen, you piece of shit. You are lucky my lawyer is not with me, otherwise I would have you for slander.”

  “My God. Are you really that arrogant? Do you really not think we can find something that connects you to this conspiracy?”

  William regained some control. Sat back and looked at Mark with the smugness he was renowned for.

  “Arrest me then. If you are so sure I am involved, why haven’t you arrested me? You seem so sure that my sons are guilty of these alleged crimes and they are now in your cells. Why am I not in there too?”

  Mark was losing the argument. William knew the answer to his question. Everything that had been supplied to the police about William’s involvement was circumstantial and he knew it. Mark tried to gain ground.

  “Your son Bradley has confessed to multiple murders on tape and James has admitted to his part in this, in front of his wife.”

  “Hmm, Bradley was always unhinged. I blame his whore of a mother. As for James, he was always a spineless idiot. If you think you can charge them with something, then get on with it. My lawyers will deal with whatever shit you think can stick.”

  “And what if we win? I think even your expensive lawyers will have a hard time refuting the confessions from both of them.”

  “Well, we will see, but quite frankly they are no great loss.”

  Mark was stunned at the complete lack of compassion shown by William Hardacre for his offspring. He was going to get them expensive lawyers but seemed to have no problem with throwing them under the bus if it ultimately saved his skin. Mark changed tack.

  “Can you explain why several of the other clients of the doctor’s illegal baby-making scheme are friends of yours? Geoffrey Pottinger for example.”

  “Sure, I know Geoffrey, but then I know a lot of people. Is that suddenly a crime?”

  “No, it is not a crime but every client, including the ones apparently buying the babies from the two new girls that we saved from the clinic, has clear associations with you.”

  “Like I said, Mark. I know a lot of people. If you had a shred of evidence against me, we wouldn’t be sitting here having this cosy chat. I would be in a cell, lawyered up, being interviewed under caution. So, why don’t you stop wasting my time and deal with the only thing that I really care about.”

  “And what might that be?”

  “My granddaughter. You need to return her to Annabelle immediately.”

  “That isn’t going to happen. She isn’t the girl’s mother. The real mother is in a hospital in Warwick recovering from gunshot wounds inflicted by your son. Social services have every right to remove all the children from this sordid affair.”

  William stood up and fixed Mark with a steely stare.

  “You really don’t who you are dealing with boy. I will get her back if it is the last thing I do.”

  With that William stormed out and Mark was left wondering just what the hell was going to happen now.

  88

  DCS Jenny Ragnor had been stuck in Warwick for two days. She had supervised the lockdown on Bradley Williams’ hospital room while he recovered from life-saving surgery and made sure that Anya and Rob were protected from all threats. The problem was that the doctors refused to let her interview any of them. She had kept up-to-date with events in London and Mark was regularly briefing her about key information. He had told her about his unexpected visit from William Hardacre. The sheer mention of the man’s name made her gut tighten. She had four years left and she wondered whether she would ever nail the bastard before she retired.

  As she started her third day hanging around the hospital, consuming another cup of brown liquid that purported to be coffee, the doctor looking after her three ‘clients’ finally offered her some solace.

  “Detective Ragnor. I am happy for you to speak to Miss Novak and Mr Simmonds today, as long as you don’t spend too long with each of them. Mr Williams is still too ill for any sort of interrogation.”

  “Thank you Doctor, that is really helpful. I will just complete some preliminary enquiries.”

  She walked in to see Anya, who was sitting up drinking a cup of tea and staring out of the window.

  “Miss Novak, my name is DCS Jenny Ragnor. I have been put in charge of looking after you and taking your statement. You have caused quite a stir.”

  “Where is my baby?”

  “Your daughter has been removed from the Hardacre household and is with temporary foster parents.”

  “So, you do believe she is mine?”

  “The evidence that we have been supplied seems to support that assertion. Social services will need to review the case carefully and will probably need some DNA tests completed, but I am reasonably confident it will be proved that she is your daughter. There is one thing though.”

  “What?”

  “My boss had a visit from William Hardacre. He was threatening all sorts of things to get her back to Mrs Hardacre. I think he is going to take this through the courts.”

  “What! Why haven’t you arrested him?”

  Jenny shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

  “Miss Novak. I, more than anyone, would like to nail that bastard. The problem is the evidence against him is flimsy. There just isn’t enough in the evidence file and nothing on the tape that was sent to us of your little clinic visit which directly implicates him.”

  Anya’s rage began to grow.

  “That is ridiculous. He is all over this. Both his sons are involved. Bradley confessed to all his crimes as he was threatening to kill me. You must have that on tape.”

  “We do, but there is not a single reference to William’s involvement in your conversations with the doctor or Bradley.”

  Anya couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her mind immediately wandered to Clark. She knew he would be devastated if William Hardacre got away with it. Jenny pushed on, taking the opportunity to gain back the momentum, as Anya paused to take in what she had just been told.

  “There is one thing that we all found rather curious, Miss Novak.”

  Anya snapped out of her daydream, trying to suppress her anger.

  “Oh, what is that?”

  “Who was helping you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “Someone other than your partner was helping you. They overrode the security doors and cut the CCTV feeds. They also sent the live feed of your clinic invasion to my boss. Anonymously. I presume this is the same person that sent
him the hard-copy evidence file?”

  Anya knew this was the moment. She had to protect Clark. They hadn’t discussed how they would handle this. She had to think on her feet. She had to lie.

  “Erm. My guardian angel. We never met this person. He wrote to me, telling me they had found this conspiracy and that my life was in danger. We didn’t believe him at first but, when Bradley tried to kill me in that car accident, we started to believe. We corresponded by post and via email. You will never track him down though. He is a master hacker. He got the evidence in ways you probably don’t like but quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck. He saved my life and convinced your boss that this conspiracy is real. He is my fucking hero.”

  “So, you know it was a man? Do you have the letters and the emails?”

  “No, he told us to destroy every piece of correspondence after we had read it. He said he was keeping all the evidence securely and would release it to the police at the right time. During our investigations he found that two new girls had been admitted and we knew we had to catch the bastards red handed. To prove everything else we had found. He set up all the technical links to record everything you saw and heard. He did hack the clinic security, but as I said, thank God he did. I am alive because of him.”

  “This is all very convenient Miss Novak, but I am sorry, I don’t believe you. I think you are covering for someone that is clearly a criminal. I really don’t want to arrest you for perverting the course of justice, just as you might be getting your daughter back.”

  Anya was frantic. This woman was going to ruin it all. Just when she was so close to getting Sophie back. She decided to go for bravado.

  “Well, that is all I am going to say on the matter. If you think you can prove what I am saying is untrue, then go for your life.”

  Jenny looked at her, sizing her up. This woman was clearly a tough cookie. She had risked her life to find out the truth about the conspiracy and get her daughter back. She kind of admired her but equally hated to lose. She started to walk out and left Anya with some final words that chilled her to the bone.

  “I don’t like criminals Miss Novak, regardless of the circumstances. I will be interested in what your partner has to say about this.”

  Anya sat in her bed, gripped by fear. She would kill Rob if he betrayed her and Clark.

  89

  Before she went in to interview Rob Simmons, Jenny Ragnor phoned Mark Chesterfield.

  “Sir, it’s Jenny. I have just interviewed Anya Novak. She is refusing to give us the name of the person that helped her. She claims she never met him. Said he was a master hacker that found the conspiracy and tipped them off about her life being in danger. She claims he helped them find all the evidence and got them in the clinic. Conveniently, she says she has destroyed all the correspondence between them, at his instruction.”

  “So, you don’t believe her?”

  “Not for a minute. She is lying through her teeth.”

  There was a short pause and Jenny wasn’t sure what it meant. The next thing her boss said took her legs away.

  “I need you to back off from this line of enquiry Jenny.”

  “What! Why?”

  “Look, I know this guy obtained a lot of this stuff illegally and that is not going to help us when this gets to trial. The Hardacre lawyers in particular are going to challenge the legal admissibility of a whole load of what we have. If we are seen trying to pursue the guy that got us this evidence, it will play into their hands. It would also be a PR disaster. My advice from our director of comms is that we should play on this guardian angel line, whilst not condoning what he has done. The same applies to Miss Novak and Mr Simmonds. We have to treat them as the victims, not criminals.”

  “But Mark…”

  “Jenny, I am sorry. This is just how it has got to be. We have a similar problem with the women that received these babies. They are all claiming that they did not know their husbands had obtained the babies illegally. They had all been sold a story about willing surrogates. The PR team want us to paint them as victims as well. We need to keep clear lines between those we have arrested and the victims of this awful situation.”

  “OK Sir. Whatever you say.”

  *

  Anya kept pushing the call button by her bed. She had to get help so she could see Rob before he said too much to that police officer. Eventually a nurse came, got her in a wheelchair and took her to Rob’s room. As Anya was wheeled in, she held her breath, hoping that Rob was not in the middle of a full confession. She exhaled. The police officer wasn’t there.

  “Rob. Have you spoken to the police officer?”

  “What police officer?”

  “Oh, thank God. That detective woman. She was asking lots of questions about who had helped us. I had to lie to protect Clark.”

  “I haven’t seen anyone. Who is she?”

  “She is some senior officer from the Met police, sent up here to protect us and take our statements, but she seemed more interested in finding out about Clark. She knew I was lying and said she was going to speak to you. I have been frantic. She said she was going to arrest me if she could prove I was lying. I didn’t know what to do. We didn’t discuss how to handle this.”

  “What did you say to her?”

  “I said we never met him, that he wrote to us about my life being in danger, said we didn’t believe him until Bradley tried to kill me.”

  “OK, well not all of that is a lie. What else?”

  “I said we corresponded by post and email. That he uncovered all the evidence and helped us get in the clinic when we found out about the two new girls. I also said he told us to destroy all correspondence because he had the master information and agreed to send it to the police at the right time.”

  “Well, sounds like you did a great job, but then you always did find lying easy, didn’t you Anya?”

  Anya was gobsmacked. The bitterness she had felt from Rob since she had come out of the coma was laid bare in that one sentence. Just as she was about to lose it with him a familiar voice came from the doorway.

  “Miss Novak. I do hope you are not plotting with your partner.”

  Anya froze. She was facing away from Jenny Ragnor, looking straight at Rob. She fixed him with a ‘don’t you dare betray me’ stare. She turned around, complete with her best ‘Veronica Mars’ smile.

  “Detective Ragnor. Would I do that? I was just seeing how Rob was.”

  She walked into the room and sighed.

  “It’s OK. You have nothing to worry about. You don’t need to tell me anything about your dirty little secrets with your hacking dude. The commissioner has asked me to back off this line of enquiry and just get your statements. You are in the clear.”

  Anya looked at Rob, a massive sense of relief all over her face. He just sat there. Stony faced.

  *

  A week after they had been admitted to hospital, Rob and Anya were discharged. The media pack had not let up, camping outside the hospital day and night, for exactly this moment. The moment they could interrogate and photograph the couple that had taken down the Prime Minister.

  They emerged to more cameras and flash bulbs than a royal couple. They stopped to answer questions on the advice of the Met comms team, after being heavily coached at what to say. The questions were shouted at Anya, ten at a time.

  “What you would say to the PM if he was standing here now?”

  “Is it really your baby Miss Novak?”

  “How did you crack the conspiracy?”

  “Who helped you?”

  “Are you going to get your baby back?”

  Anya dealt with them brilliantly. Holding the line about not being able to answer their questions whilst the police enquiry was ongoing but very much looking forward to being united with her daughter.

  After about ten minutes of fielding their questions, a reporter
suddenly directed a question to Rob.

  “Mr Simmons. How does it feel to be a hero?”

  The sudden change of focus surprised Anya. She looked at Rob. He didn’t seem like he had heard the question. He had a broad smile on his face and was staring at a face in the crowd.

  Anya looked at Rob. Followed his line of sight and saw who he was looking at. In that moment she knew.

  90

  TWELVE MONTHS LATER

  Anya sat watching the news, gripped by the latest headlines about James Hardacre.

  “After a fierce battle between the respective legal teams, the trial of James Hardacre concluded today. The judge handed down a custodial sentence of fifteen years for conspiracy charges after a conclusive guilty verdict by the jury. His father stood outside court with the Hardacre lawyers, stating they would lodge an appeal. His estranged wife Annabelle did not attend court. This sentence seems to be the last the police are to pursue against the conspirators in what many have come to know as the ‘cash for babies scandal’. Many observers are surprised that William Hardacre was not up on charges himself. Rumours are rife that the police and CPS could not construct a sound case against him due to a lack of clear evidence implicating him in this sordid affair.

  This verdict comes after the eight life sentences handed down to his stepbrother Bradley Williams, a fifteen-year sentence for George Walker, the ten-year sentence for Hassan Chandra and sentences ranging from two years to eight years for the corrupt police officers and clients of this scandal.

  The real victims of this scandal, the five children born from the deeds of these evil men, have all been the subject of protracted legal arguments. Unlike Miss Anya Novak, the lady that helped blow this conspiracy wide open, the real mothers of the other four babies are dead. The custodial sentences handed down to the male clients has taken away any legal right they had to their offspring, despite it being proven that they were the actual fathers. The legal battles still rage on as to whether the women who received these babies should be allowed to keep them, as it is alleged they knew nothing of their husbands’ crimes. Miss Novak’s custody trial was concluded last month, despite a fierce fight from the Hardacres’ lawyers. Her daughter was returned to her soon after.