The Value of Life

by Andy Crowson

  Chapter 10: Mr. Haseem

  Josef woke at seven and by seven forty five he was in his local café having a fry up and a mug of tea. At a quarter past eight he stopped by the Beacham's to check in with the night team.

  There was nothing to report so far, so Josef stopped by the post office. He talked to the postmaster's assistant about the local collections, deliveries, postmen and women. He didn't learn much except that the post office were short staffed, overworked, under pressure and that DS Ward had been in and fingerprinted the post woman who had delivered to the Martin's and that he'd asked about where the letter had come from, to which the answer was, somewhere local by the post mark and date.

  By the time Josef left the post office he'd decided they were not going to give him the cooperation he needed. He reached the station by nine thirty and found everyone in the meeting room.

  When he walked in DS Ward was giving a run down of the door to door, the school and the post office, all of which had turned up nothing. Josef stood at the back of the room listening.

  Next Mason gave his research findings, they were not very helpful either. Kidnapping it seemed was a very rare crime and often an unsuccessful one, and no one had ever used an MO similar to this.

  Josef's briefing was short and he gave an account of his interview with Mrs. Plotsligt and Daniel's teacher and what he'd found out from Daniel's doctor. The abuse angle was going cold and he hadn't turned up anything else. He said nothing of his trip to the post office or to the Beachams'.

  The forensic report on the ransom note gave them nothing, it had the fingerprints of the postwoman and Mrs. Martin's fingerprints on it but those were all. It was typed on an old typewriter, not using proper typewriter ink on the ribbon but it was a common enough ink. The machine could be matched to the note if it could be found. Standard 80 msg paper, no watermark. A cheap self-adhesive envelope had been used, with no brand marking. A self-adhesive stamp had been used, so there was not even DNA evidence for a later date. There was nothing helpful about it. The computer showed little internet usage and no sign of being used in chat rooms or for anything untoward.

  "We've got phone trace authorization but unless he calls again that won't help. It doesn't look like he will either, not if the note is anything to go by." Bentworth paused and looked around the room.

  "We've got no leads," he concluded, "anyone got any ideas on how we get some."

  "What about the bank?" Mason asked. "Isn't there any way we could find out who the account holder is?" Bentworth shook his head.

  "They'd never disclose that, this account may not have much money in, but if they divulged this account holders information, then the multi billionaire terrorists who use this type of account would take their money elsewhere, and that just isn't going happen." The room was silent.

  "Can't we trace access to the bank account," Mason persisted.

  "That'd be illegal, and besides, most encrypted internet connections are almost impossible to snoop in on," Bentworth said. He looked around the room for any more suggestions.

  "Well then, it's back to basics," he said, "Dave, door knocking again, concentrate on Brighton road, it's a busy road and someone must have seen something. Brian, have a look at anyone who specializes in old typewriters, you never know, they might be able to tell you something about the machine we didn't already know, and talk to the boys who walked home from school with Daniel that day, they might have seen something too."

  DS Ward interrupted.

  "What about last night's kidnapping?" he asked, "aren't there any leads from that?"

  "We're not treating that as a kidnapping unless we get a note, and if it is the same guy we'll get one soon enough, in the meantime there's no evidence the two cases are related," he replied. Ward let it go at that. Bentworth looked around the room.

  "The rest of you have other cases to be getting along with but keep yourselves available should I need you, otherwise, go detect. Josef can you stay please?" he added.

  With the room empty and Josef seated Bentworth relaxed.

  "I had a chat with the super this morning. If there's another ransom note today then the shit is going to hit the fan and we need to go public with a press statement. Maybe press conference and public appeal, the whole shebang. I need you to work up that profile from what you have up till now. I know it won't be easy but can you do it?"

  "I can try," Josef said. "The trouble is that to have a psychological profile you need some information that indicates the psychological state of the subject. We don't really have anything to go on."

  "Just do what you can," Bentworth said. "Spend the day on research if you need to, but can I have what you've done by the end of the day. With any luck you'll have another note to go on," he stood, "or not actually. Thanks Jo."

  When Bentworth had gone Josef sat at the table thinking. Bentworth's request was not an easy one but it was something to which he'd given thought already. The key to the kidnapper's mental state was at the heart of his motive and vice versa, and if Josef could figure the motive, or the mental state, then he'd be more than half way to catching the guy. He needed to get inside K's head.

  He was growing more convinced that money was not the objective here, was K punishing the parents for something? Maybe he was projecting his own childhood onto these children, and maybe that was why he chose children who looked similar. Perhaps similar to himself, and that would explain a few things. Josef didn't have much to go on but the two most promising options seemed to be something about the boys that linked them, other than looks, or something that happened to them both that K felt association with. He thought that it was unlikely K wanted the boys for some personal or sexual reason. The ransom note specifically questioned the parents' value of the child and he felt K's anger was directed at them, not the boys.

  Josef decided he needed someone to follow up with all family members of each family. Someone with tact, someone clever who could ask the right questions without rocking the boat, preferably someone already involved with the families and the case, and he thought he knew the perfect person.

  PC Whitlock had gone home for the day but a call to her house brought her into CID offices inside half an hour. She wore a dark fitted skirt and a black pinstriped fitted blouse with white inside the collar and cuffs. She looked good.

  "Not in uniform?" Josef joked.

  "If I'm playing detective today then I want to dress for the part," she said. "Besides I'd already stuck the uniform in the wash, I'm not supposed to be on again till next Tuesday."

  "Thanks for coming in," Josef said, "I need some help, it's nothing much but it's gotta be done quick."

  He explained his abuse theory and the kind of questions he wanted asked and to whom. She listened intently and when he'd finished she stood up.

  "No problem, I'll get on with it and call in tonight with the notes, but you know it's going to take more than just today to get all this done."

  "I know, just do as much as you can, I really appreciate it," he said and handed her his card with his number on it, "call me if you hit trumps." She turned the card over, wrote on the back and handed it to him.

  "You owe me," she teased, "and I'm not cheap."

  "Trust me you're not too expensive either," Josef flirted back. She laughed as she walked off.

  "Don't you need my number?" He asked.

  "Got it," she smiled.

  "See you..." Josef looked at the card but there was no name on the back, just a number, "Melissa," he added as she left.

  "Close," she called over shoulder.

  Josef decided the best place for him to start would be back at the Martins', if what he thought was right then there had to be a link between the Martins and the Beachams, and if the Beachams didn't know what it was maybe the Martins did. He spent the whole morning questioning the Martins about hobbies and places they'd worked, family, friends, schools, everything he could think of. Josef used two sets of batteries and a second tape and when he was finished Josef had le
arned a large part of Daniel's family life. What he hadn't done was jog any memories in the Martins, and what Josef planned to do next was to play the tape to the Beachams and see what happened. When he left the Martins' Josef took a long list of registration numbers from the PC on watch, there were about thirty.

  "I know it's a long list Sir but we ruled out people just parking, people that live in the street and visitors you know, just the drive bys like you said," the PC told him.

  "Perfect," Josef replied and smiled. "I know it's hard work but keep it up, the closer to the deadline it gets the more likely he is to pay a visit." Josef tried not to sound patronizing but did a little anyway, so he added, "thanks," with a smile and left. Josef thought about lunch before going to the Beachams' but decided he might play the tape for them and order a takeout pizza to eat there, he was running short of time and needed desperately to make some progress.

  When Josef entered Benton Street a white estate car had stopped in the middle of the road in front of the Beachams' house, blocking the street because of the parked cars on either side. Josef drove up behind the car and got out, as he rounded the front of his Renault he saw a PC in the front garden holding down an Asian man and putting cuffs on him. Josef ran into the garden fumbling for his warrant card

  "What's going on, what's happened?" he half shouted holding out the ID. The uniformed officer looked up and glanced at the ID.

  "He delivered the ransom note," the PC said. "Says he's a cabbie from A to B car service, says he picked it up from the letterbox of O'Leary's estate agents in the high street."

  "Right," Josef said, "have you called it in, who's on route to the scene?"

  "I think Jimmy's calling it in, he's inside. I just made him wait while we took a look at what he'd delivered," he said nodding at the body on the ground at his feet, "you've seen the rest," he finished. At that moment Jimmy appeared at the door.

  "They're sending two cars up the High Street now to check O'Leary's," he looked at Josef questioningly, Josef offered his warrant card.

  "Fuck me that was quick," Jimmy said, and handed the card back.

  "Tell the two squads to look out for a white male, thirty to sixty, dark hair, he might be watching from somewhere nearby," Josef said. "Get a car to the cab office and check it out, cabbies aren't the most law abiding people."

  "Sir."

  As Jimmy unclipped his shoulder radio and began relaying the message to dispatch Josef spoke to the other officer.

  "Check him out, name address, and check the car registration, let's have an idea of who he is and what just happened."

  Josef entered the house, he found the Beachams and Mr. and Mrs. Wagstaff in the living room with the note and envelope on the table, Stella Wagstaff was wearing one rubber glove, the other one held in her gloved hand, they looked up at Josef.

  "Bloody hell that was quick," Stella said.

  "I was on my way over for something else actually, I just got here. Can I see the note?" Stella made a move to pick it up with her gloved hand.

  "Please," Josef said raisin his hand to stop her, "leave it on the table, the more it gets touched," He didn't finish the sentence, he didn't need to. Mrs. Beacham stood and moved out from the table where she'd been sitting with the note directly in front of her. Josef shimmied round the coffee table and sat, the note and envelope spread out before him.

  Mr and Mrs Beacham,

  I have your son Jamie, he is safe and well. For now.

  If you want Jamie back, put the money into the Swiss International Bank of Geneva.

  Acc 490036-8711491

  Failure to comply will result in Jamie's death. You have until midday Saturday to make the transfer. This is the last communication we will have until after the DEADline.

  K

  Josef read the note several times. The note looked exactly the same as the Martin's had. Josef checked the envelope, it was a self adhesive type, the same as before, with a self adhesive stamp. It was addressed in the same typeface as the Martin's had been but this one was obviously never posted, there was no sign of a postmark on it anywhere. Josef was deep in thought when Mrs. Beacham spoke.

  "So is this the same as the other family got then?" she asked, Josef nodded. "Then that's good isn't it?" she continued, "That means he's OK?"

  "Yes it does," Josef said easily, "I don't think this man means the children any harm. I think he has a problem with you, I mean with the parents." Mrs. Beacham thought about this for a minute.

  "You think Jamie's been taken because of something we've done?" she began to cry and Stella put a hand around her.

  "What I'm saying is that's maybe how the kidnapper sees it. What I'm starting to think is that this K is superimposing his childhood onto these boys. Something that happened in his childhood screwed him up, maybe his parents mistreated him or something, I think that could explain the physical similarity in the boys." Josef wasn't sure if he'd just said too much and blown whatever line of questioning he might have but he was in no mood to pussy foot and he needed results.

  "Has anyone ever accused you of abusing Jamie?" he asked. There was uproar.

  "If you think I've ever laid a hand on my son," Mr. Beacham was shouting, "then you're fucking crazy." Josef stood and raised his hands,

  "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry alright," he said, the room fell silent. "What I said was, has anyone accused you of that, maybe Jamie fell off his bike and banged his head and someone thought more of it. What I'm looking for here is some kind of motive."

  "No one has EVER accused us of hurting Jamie," Mr Beacham said, still angry and close to shouting.

  "I need as much help as I can get here, so what I'm going to do is play you a tape," Josef said pulling out the tape player and a notepad and pen. "It's the other family on the tape, they're talking about all kinds of things they do, places they go, friends and so on. Can you all listen carefully and write down anything that you think might connect you and them.

  Think from a third party point of view, someway someone could have known both boys without them knowing each other," Josef started the tape and left the Martin's and their guests listening and writing.

  Outside Josef found the cab driver leaning handcuffed against his car talking with Jimmy, the second uniformed officer searching the inside. Josef leaned in the open door.

  "What have we got?"

  "Mr. Mohammed Ali Haseem, 419 Trident House. No previous, unlicenced minicab driver, probably on the dole, but otherwise nothing."

  "And the High Street?"

  "You best ask Jimmy Sir." Josef pulled his head from the car.

  "What's the latest from the squads in the High Street and the cab office?"

  "Well, I passed on your description, they say the High Street is packed but they're asking in some of the shops in case someone saw something. The estate agents is closed, they're trying to locate the owner now. The story checks out with the cab office, someone rung up from the estate agents, said they were going out and to pick up a letter for delivery from the letterbox, cash inside. I've got no more details than that but it looks like he's telling the truth"

  "OK," Josef said sighing, "get his car out of the way and take the cuffs off but keep him here, I'm gonna make some calls."

  "What about the family?" Jimmy asked, nodding towards the house.

  "They're busy," Josef said, "don't disturb them."