“O.K. So they lost control. So what? He’s locked-up in the nick,” said Andy.
“Yes and he knows all the parts of their operations and where the corpses are buried. Now do you understand?” said Robson.
Andy looked at his feet and nodded.
“We got a tip that Lemmings was in our area. Do you think it came from the Simpson’s?” asked Andy.
“Probably,” said Robson. “One other thing, if you wanted to put out a rumour amongst the criminal community here, we could arrange it?”
“That’s worth knowing. Thank you,” said Andy quietly. He held out his hand, they shook hands and he left. He took the mobile out of his pocket as he left the DSI office and met his driver at the front of the building. The return to Leeds was made in absolute silence. Andy had too much on his mind. He was going to use some applied psychology on Dobson and it would be as vicious as the man was.
Chapter 8
Governor Tomlinson had been in the prison service for over fourteen years. Before he had come to Wakefield, he had led a section in Her Majesty’s Home Office. He was a career civil servant. He was in his mid- forties, slight of build with black short hair and glasses. He tended to look intense and in fact he was by nature a very intense and highly strung character. He liked conformity and avoided change, both at work and in his personal life. He was a conservative by nature and inclination. He had been the Governor of Wakefield High Security Prison for the last four years. The call he had received the day before had been unexpected and had given him cause to reflect on one of his more problematic inmates. Wakefield had more than the average share of murderers within its walls. Not unusual for a high security prison. What was unusual, were the categories of these prisoners. They were some of the most dangerous men held in British prisons. Tomlinson was under no illusion as to how dangerous some of his inmates were. His staff was specially selected. The prison routine and measures were designed to protect the public at all costs from any possibility of a breakout, however small or large. It was regarded, rightly, as one of the most secure prisons in Britain or in the world. No one had escaped from Wakefield.
Frank Dobson was not a particularly difficult prisoner to manage. His management plan worked well, most of the time and there had been few problems within the prison, given what he was capable of. It was a major point of concern, if as he suspected, the coming visit of this police officer from Leeds upset Dobson. The officer would walk away, leave and they would be left to deal with the consequences. It had happened before and it was not something that he or his staff relished. Why on earth could they not leave well alone and let these men serve their time without interference? He knew the answer without asking the question. Many of the prisoners came with crimes unanswered or punished. They all hoped that they would be forgotten, or go undiscovered. The visits of police officers were relentless. They were unavoidable and all he could hope for was that they caused as little disruption as possible to the daily life of the prison regime. In many cases this was the norm. However, when the apple cart was upset, the repercussions were enormous and unpredictable. It was the makings of prison riots and he would not tolerate the threat of a riot for whatever reason. On that his mind was set. He was determined that the interview with Dobson would be tightly controlled and that Dobson would not be unbalanced from his present state of mind by some copper from Leeds no matter what his rank. His prison would remain an oasis of tranquillity, balanced by tight security and order. He would allow nothing to change that. He was determined to end his career with an unblemished record.
Rawlings had been shown into the Governor’s office on his arrival at Wakefield High Security Prison. It was unusual for a visitor to be taken to see the Governor but he was not concerned, since the prisoner he had come to see was highly dangerous. ‘No doubt the prison authorities will have some special procedures that they want me to follow,’ he thought. As he waited in the spacious office for the Governor he took in his surroundings. One wall was covered with commendations and certificates, including to his amusement and surprise, a university degree in Sociology from Durham University. “What a prick”, he said. Under his breath and not even a First Class Honours at that!
Andy turned as he heard the office door open. Tomlinson was wearing a light grey woollen suit with a dark blue tie. He was about four inches taller than Andy. He immediately took in Andy’s well cut dark blue Armani suit and pale blue silk tie. The two men disliked each other from the start of that first meeting.
“Please take a seat Mr Rawlings.”
Andy noted the snub of not using or acknowledging his police rank.
“My name is Tomlinson and I am the Governor of Wakefield. There are certain procedures and restrictions that we apply to all visitors here. They are non-negotiable. Am I making myself clear?”
“Perfectly,” Andy said with a hollow smile.
“I would like to know the nature of your visit and the questions you wish to ask Dobson.”
“We think he can help with our enquiries,” said Andy.
Andy had given the standard police response. If you think I’m telling you anything else, you’ve another think coming! Andy thought to himself. Tomlinson adopted a condescending tone.
“I’m afraid I need a little more information than that Mr Rawlings. You see we maintain a tranquil and well-ordered establishment by consent here Mr Rawlings. We don’t rock the boat and we have set boundaries that are respected by the prisoners. That means that we don’t ask awkward questions that will cause unnecessary upset, Mr Rawlings.” There was a slight emphasis on the ‘Mr’.
Rawlings stood up. “I’ll make arrangements to interview him at the station.” He made for the door.
“You will need a court order for that,” Tomlinson said, almost shouting the words.
“I’ll ask for one based on an ‘obstruction of a serious police enquiry’, and I’ll get it as you well know,” Andy said without turning around. Before he had got half way across the outer office the Governor was at his door.
“DI Rawlings, I would like a word with you… please,” said the Governor, standing at the door of his office.
Rawlings turned, smiling. “Of course you would, Governor,” said Andy.
He made his way back into the Governor’s office. The two men stood facing each other.
“We made a bad start DI Rawlings. There are certain procedures as I have already said. We need to protect you and the prisoner. It’s all to do with health and safety regulations and the prisoner’s human rights. You do understand?” He was pleading now with Andy and he knew it.
“I understand perfectly,” Andy said with his most charming smile.
“Good, good. The prisoner will be brought to one of our interview rooms. The interview will be recorded and filmed. Two prison officers will be with you at all times. Either party can end the interview at any time. Agreed?” said the Governor.
“Agreed,” said Andy.
“Good. I’ll get our Chief Prison Officer to show you the way.” He put out his hand. It was a limp handshake that the two exchanged.
Dobson entered the room between two prison officers. His hands were handcuffed in front of him. He stopped just inside the doorway.
“Who the fuck are you?” said Dobson.
“DI Rawlings, I’ve a few questions I’ll like you to answer.”
“You can fuck-off. Take me back to my pad,” he said turning to the prison officers.
“If you want to see Mark again, you’ll listen carefully to what I have to say,” said Andy.
Dobson hesitated.
“What can you lose Dobson?” Andy added.
“You’ve got five seconds,” Dobson said.
One of the officers took him by the arm. “Sit over here Frank.”
He sat him across the table from Andy.
“John isn’t happy Frank.”
“What are you? His fucking messenger boy? And it’s Mr Dobson to you.”
“Do you want to help Mark or not?” sai
d Andy.
Dodson shrugged his shoulders and looked at Andy with two blue blank eyes. There was no light in those eyes. They were as dead as his soul.
Andy got to his feet.
“Please remain in your seat sir. Prison rules,” said one of the prison officers.
Andy ignored him and moved around to where Frank was sitting.
“Sir! That’s not allowed.”
The officer moved towards Andy, but one look from Andy stopped him in his tracks.
“Don’t get excited. I’m just giving Frank my card,” said Andy. He drew a card from his top jacket pocket and placed it on the table in front of Frank. Andy moved around the back of Frank’s chair and as he passed Frank he bent down and whispered in his ear.
“There’s a contract on Mark. I know who’s going to kill him. Unless you help me he’s dead!” He straightened and went to the interview room door and opened it.
“Thank you Frank. Have a think on what I’ve said,” he said as he left.
Before Dobson could answer, he was through the opened doorway and gone. Tomlinson was reviewing the interview tapes.
“What on earth did he say to Dobson? I can’t make it out. Why did you let him get so near for God’s sake? You know the rules,” said Tomlinson.
“Couldn’t stop him, sir. He was so quick, but whatever he said, upset Dobson. He wrecked his cell shortly after he was returned to it,” said the officer.
“Well the damage has been done now,” said Tomlinson thoughtfully.
Chapter 9
As soon as he had left Wakefield he had phoned DSI Robson and it was agreed between them, that a very strong rumour would be put about in the criminal fraternity that a contract was out on Lemmings. The story was that he had killed a child of a relative of one of the leading criminals in Leeds and that Frank had spilled too much about the criminal operations of the Simpson brothers in prison. The source was unspecific but totally credible. The rumour soon became a fact in the minds of those that continue to spread it. Three weeks later Andy was in his office when the phone rang. He picked it up.
“DI Rawlins,” he said into the receiver.
“There’s an outside call for you sir. The caller will not give his name but says it’s important. Shall I put it through?”
“Yes,” said Andy in a tired voice.
“Know who this is?” he heard a man’s voice say.
“No,” said Andy nonchalantly.
“It’s Frank.”
Andy was on full alert in a second.
“Good to hear from you Frank.”
“Cut the bull-shit. This is what I want...”
Andy cut him short. “I’m not negotiating with you Frank. Just tell me were Mark is if you want to keep him safe?”
“I don’t know, but if you provide me with a mobile, internet ready I can find out,” said Dobson.
There followed what seemed to Frank like a very long silence as Andy thought furiously. Finally Andy spoke.
“If I provide the phone, what guarantees can you give me that you will tell me where to find Mark?” he said.
“Just the same as you can give me. That you will return him to me and that is none. You’ll just have to trust me, like I trust you to keep your end of the bargain,” said Dobson..
There was another long pause. Then Andy said, “No phone or anything else. The only thing that I will give you is that we will take Mark alive and keep him safe.”
“There’s a screw called Tim Smyth at Wakefield. If you change your mind and if you want me to help you, give it to him. I’ll get in touch when I get the phone. Remember it must be internet ready and fully paid up with at least a six months’ worth of calls. Oh and it has to a Blackberry.” With that the phone went dead.
Andy put down the receiver and then lifted it again. He pressed a three digit number and heard a voice say.
“Reception.”
“DI Rawlings here. That last call that you put through to me, was it from a landline?”
“Just a minute sir… No mobile.”
“Thank you,” said Andy.
Andy replaced the receiver and thought for a moment. He rang Bill Green. He related his meeting with Dobson in prison and his phone conversation. He finished with,
“He wants us to provide him with a mobile. Internet ready, if he is to give us any information.”
“Does he now? Well, the Super will have to sanction this. What are the arguments that I can persuade him with?”
“None, Dobson’s got a mobile. That’s what he used to contact me. He was fishing and he’s got it in for one of the prison officers. He gets nothing from us,” said Andy.
“Do the prison authorities know that he has a phone? They need to know and we are obliged to tell them Andy.”
“I would rather that we don’t, sir. I’ve no confidence in the Governor,” said Andy.
“He needs to know, Andy, and we need to deprive Dobsons of his mobile,” said Green.
“O.K., sir, but let’s tell him as little as possible,” said Andy.
Very quickly a problem emerged. Once they had Dobson’s mobile, the prison quickly determined that his calls had been made through the internet and they were encrypted and untraceable. Andy was in a dilemma. Some days later the whole thing unravelled and got worse, Andy suffered a bout of depression. Dobson and his cell had been turned over by prison officers. Dobson had got hold of another mobile and Dobson had been put into isolation. He was incommunicado. All outside visitors were being refused access, with the exception of his lawyer. Andy needed to retrieve the mobiles. It could provide his forensic scientists with valuable information. How much did the Governor know he wondered? He decided to make an official request through his contacts in the Manchester force for the mobiles and hoped that his luck was in. It was and two days later the mobile phones were being expertly examined.
Chapter 10
Sally and John had not spoken for days. Sally spent her days in bed, sedated or in tears. She had not eaten for three days. Both were social workers and had met at university. It had been love at first sight and their mutual desire to help people had led them both into social work. Their lives had been full and satisfying. Until, in their late thirties, it suddenly dawned on them both that they could not have children. Sally had been the first to go to the doctor and he confirmed her greatest fear. She was infertile. After a while they decided that the only option if they wanted a family was to adopt and being social workers they knew the procedures and did not expect to have any problems adopting. However, they wanted a white male baby and after all the checks and interviews had been done they were put on a waiting list. That had been ten years ago and in the last six years they had brought up Tommy. He was the love of their lives; a bright, blond little boy who fulfilled all their dreams and filled their lives with joy and happiness. He was perfection. No sleepless nights when he had been adopted at six months and not a day’s illness. He was perfect in looks and behaviour and to cap it all, he was intelligent. In the top class at his primary school and now he was gone.
The days had no longer any meaning and each day was the same as the next. John went through the routine of rising, showering, shaving and work. He hardly ate and he did not cook. Food had no taste or relevance any more. He lost weight. Life was a living nightmare. They both knew what sort of people took young children. At first their hopes had rested on the faint chance that it had been a bereaved mother or childless couple that had taken their boy, but as time passed their worst fears grew and so did Sally’s depression. His once beautiful, active, intelligent and competent wife had become a hollow shadow of her former self. She had been his rock. She was the only constant and immovable thing in his life. He relied on her completely. Now she was drawn and startlingly thin, with deep, dark sockets for eyes that had a permanent haunted look about them. She was clinically depressed; she had become inconsolable. The once strong woman he had known, was no more. It had been a shock to see her sink so quickly. He had been left to cope, not on
ly with his own unhappiness, but with his wife’s mental ill health as well. Given the situation he could not afford to go under himself and this was perhaps the only thing that kept him sane, together with the three quarters bottle of whiskey he was consuming every night and that seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever. Which he found strange, but gave it little thought. Becoming an alcoholic was the least of his worries or problems at the moment.
Their family doctor had been understanding and kind, but after six months, he was hinting to John that his wife might have to be sectioned under the Mental Health Act. It was only because he was a personal friend and the fact that they were a professional, white middle-class couple that he had not done it already. That, and the fact that John had said, that if his wife was taken from him, he could not be responsible for his own welfare. His doctor was deeply concerned about him and decided not to aggravate the situation by pressuring John. John knew that the situation was rapidly escalating and that the decision would soon have to be made. The safety of his wife was now a concern. She was becoming suicidal. He picked up the phone. The doctor arrived thirty minutes later. He quickly signed the forms needed and gave a copy to John. The ambulance was called. Sally was emitted to the hospital psychiatric ward that evening and John was alone in the house. Sat in the darkness with a semi-full tumbler of whiskey, he reflected on the events of the past months. How Sally had taken Tommy to the park that fateful day. How Tommy had been abducted from the children’s playground whilst Sally was talking to another mother. He was stunned how Sally had managed to keep hope burning when he had lost all hope. Until the visit from the police and the interview they had with DI Rawlings. Sally had lost all hope after that and her mind. She was now beyond all hope. Her mind was gone.
He suddenly realised that he had been sitting in the dark. He reached over to the table side lamp and switched it on. He stood and rather uncertainly, with a slight wobble, moved to the mantel piece. In a box he found the card he was looking for. He went to the phone and picked it up. With his thumb he pressed the keys of the phone and waited for the connection to be made. After some moments he heard a voice say,
The Child Predators Page 5