Nowhere to Run

by Jack Slater

  Dave stopped. He turned back to face Burton. The man looked reluctant, still, but he knew he had to give up what he knew. ‘I told you. The boy. Who is he? When and where did you abduct him? How have you managed to keep him all this time? And where is he now?’ He walked back as far as the foot of Burton’s bed and leaned both hands on the metal frame, staring into Burton’s pale eyes. ‘And the bodies. We’ve recovered two. How many more are there, who and when?’

  Burton was shaking his head. ‘I didn’t abduct the boy. He took up with me. He spotted me one day, at the park. I was taking pictures. Long lens, sitting in the van under the trees. He saw me and saw what I was doing. Somehow, he recognised me, said if I didn’t do what he wanted, he’d go to the authorities and tell them all about me. Next thing I knew, he was in the van, wanting to come back to my house and, once he was there, that was it. He was in. Then, a few days later, he found my files. What could I do? I’m not a killer.’

  ‘So, what are we doing with two bodies in the mortuary, one of which we can certainly tie to you through a witness?’

  ‘I didn’t kill them. He did. I’m telling you, he’s a vicious little sod. I know you think I’m a pervert, but you haven’t seen anything. He’s far worse than me. Utterly sick. He came up with scenarios that I’d never have dreamed of, never mind indulged in. I was just a simple voyeur until he came along. I took my pictures, a few videos, and that was it. Girls playing in the park or down on the beach. But he had these ideas, and once he got them in his head, there was no stopping him. It was like he thought he was invincible, could do whatever he liked and get away with it. I had to go along with him. I had my career to think of. He’d have ruined me. He didn’t care. He was like some sort of parasite. This wasn’t a partnership. It was a user-ship. And not in the direction you think. He was using me. I’m glad it’s over, in some ways. It was getting to be more than I could cope with.’

  Dave pushed himself upright and took a deep breath. His whole body was squirming with disgust and contempt, but he couldn’t let it show. Not yet. ‘So, where is he? You were all set to kill him and the girl. You left her behind, but what have you done with him?’

  ‘You’ve got it wrong. Him being in the barn – that was his idea. Suffering for his art, he called it. Getting into her good graces so that he could abuse her and she’d go along with it. Leaving her behind was a mistake, yes. There just wasn’t time, by the time we spotted the car coming through the trees. But I never set out to kill them.’

  ‘Where is he, Malcolm?’

  ‘I don’t know. When it all went belly-up, he cleared off. Said I was no use to him anymore and just went.’

  ‘On foot, from the back of bloody beyond? Come on, Malcolm. Be serious. Where is he?’

  ‘I don’t know. I told you: he’s gone. You’re right – he didn’t leave from the barn. I had to give him a lift back into the city. I dropped him off at the Co-op on the Dunsford Road. He took all the cash I had in my pocket and just went. The last I saw of him, he was walking into the Co-op. I swear.’

  ‘You know we can check on that, don’t you? And we will.’

  Burton dropped his gaze, nodding slowly.

  ‘And the bodies. The girls. How many are there? And when did they die?’

  ‘You’ve got them. There were just the two.’

  Dave already knew the results of the two autopsies. There was no need to pursue the question of who had killed them. ‘Just the two? Like just the two drinks, Officer?’ He felt his lip curl. ‘You know, I don’t think I’ve ever come across anything or anyone that disgusts me as much as you do, Burton. I’ll be glad to see you go down, when it happens. And it will. Even if I have to take the day off, I’ll be in that court to see you sentenced.’ He spun away and walked out of the room, lifting his phone from his pocket as he went. He had to call Pete Gayle and report what Burton had said.

  He leaned his back against the wall a few yards along from the entrance to the ward and hit the speed-dial number.

  ‘Dave?’

  ‘Yeah. Don’t shoot the messenger, boss. I’ve just been talking to Malcolm Burton.’

  *

  ‘Thanks, Dave.’

  Pete put the phone down feeling sick to his stomach.

  Burton was a consummate liar and manipulator – it was a common trait among paedophiles – and he was up to his neck in the proverbial. He would say anything to get himself out of the mire. But Rosie was firm in her opinion that Tommy was nothing more than another victim in the whole situation.

  Of course, at least part of her story had come from Tommy himself and Pete could not help recall Simon Phillips’ file on the boy and what interview after interview had said about him – even one with his own sister, Annie – but still . . . He could not believe that he had raised the kind of monster that Burton was suggesting. He just couldn’t.

  He let his head drop forward into his hands.

  The only answer was in the evidence. He had to find all there was to find, in order to exonerate his son.

  But, until he did, what was he going to tell Louise? He had to tell her something. If she found out that Tommy was tied up in all this through the newspapers or the TV, it would devastate her and their marriage. And yet, Lauren Carter’s body told an irrefutable story. Tommy had at least partially strangled her. That was a forensic fact. He was complicit in, if not actually guilty of, her murder.

  For Louise to find that out now could destroy her.

  Pete wiped his hands down his face and glanced around the squad room. His team were studiously ignoring him, getting on with a variety of tasks. He sighed. Then an idea struck him.

  He got up and walked quickly down the length of the squad room to knock on the glass of Colin Underhill’s door.

  Colin looked up from his desk and beckoned.

  Pete stepped in. Closing the door carefully behind him, he faced the older man.

  ‘What is it, Pete?’

  ‘We need a watch put on Burton’s place.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I just talked to Dave Miles. Burton puts all the blame on Tommy. He would, of course. The type of person he is. But, either way, Tommy hasn’t come out of the woodwork yet. It’s been over twelve hours. If he was going to, he would have by now. So, if he’s alive and well, as Burton claims, then he’s on the run for whatever reason. And he’ll need food, clothes and cash. He could go on a nicking spree or try to sneak home, but he’d see Burton’s place as an easier option.’

  Colin was nodding agreement. ‘I see what you mean. We haven’t got the manpower to do that at the same time as searching the woods around that barn, though.’

  ‘Then, I’ll assign a member of my team in the meantime. We’re wrapping up on Haynes, Enstone and Sanderson, anyway. All that stuff we found at Enstone’s and Sanderson’s will have to go to CEOP, won’t it? We haven’t got the resources for an investigation like that.’

  ‘True. We’ll make damn sure your team gets the credit for uncovering it all though.’

  ‘There’s no need to go stepping on toes for that. As long as it gets dealt with effectively, that’s all that matters.’

  Underhill pursed his lips. ‘Very magnanimous of you, I’m sure. But it’s not just you that’s involved, is it? Jane, Dave and the rest of them could use the recognition. I’ve already spoken to DCI Silverstone about it and he’s adamant. He wants the team to be recognised.’

  Pete nodded. ‘Of course he does.’

  Fast-track wanted the team recognised because they’d achieved what they had under his command, albeit without his input. It would reflect well on him.

  Underhill looked up at him sternly. ‘If I didn’t know better, I might think that was a cynical comment, Sergeant.’

  ‘Guv’nor.’

  ‘As for Burton’s house, you’re right. Put someone there until the search is done, then the uniform branch can take over.’

  ‘OK. Then, if it’s all right with you, I’ll go and talk to Louise. Tell her what we know before she finds
it out on the news or something.’

  ‘Yes.’ Colin stood up and came around his desk to clap Pete on the back. ‘You do that. I know she’s still delicate, emotionally. Take as much time as you need. The paperwork can wait for a day or two.’

  ‘Thanks, Colin.’ Pete shook his hand and turned away. ‘I won’t be any longer than I need to.’

  ‘I know.’

  *

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  Louise looked up from the TV as he came into the sitting room. ‘It’s not even lunch-time yet.’

  ‘I know. I need to talk to you, Lou.’ He sat down on the sofa beside her, took her hand in his and waited until she met his gaze.

  ‘What is it? It’s Tommy, isn’t it? What’s happened? You’ve found him? Where is he?’ She stiffened, shifting in her seat, her other hand finding his, clutching it like a lifeline.

  ‘Slow down, Lou. Yes, it’s Tommy. He’s been seen. He . . . We know he was alive, as of yesterday afternoon. But he’s disappeared again. We’re not sure if he’s run away from the man he was with or if he’s . . . if he’s been killed. The last reported location we have for him, from the man he was with, is the Co-op on the Dunsford Road. They’ll have CCTV. It’s being checked. If he went in there, we’ll know soon and we’ll know if he was on his own.’

  ‘Then where is he? Why hasn’t he come home?’ Her eyes had grown large and brimmed with unshed tears.

  ‘We don’t know,’ Pete admitted. ‘He could just be frightened. He’s been with this man for some time. We don’t know the details yet. We’ve got the man in custody, but he’s telling a very different story to the one Rosie Whitlock gave us.’

  ‘He was with the Whitlock girl? How?’

  ‘He . . . He was involved in her abduction. Under duress, according to what he told her, but nevertheless, he was there.’

  ‘What do you mean, “according to what he told her”? Of course he was forced into it. Tommy wouldn’t hurt anyone.’

  Pete grimaced. ‘Well, that’s the other thing, Lou. I shouldn’t have, but I’ve read Simon Phillips’ file on Tommy. He uncovered evidence – and a lot of it – that Tommy’s not entirely who we thought he was. There are reports in that file from teachers, other kids, even from Annie, that he was not a nice kid sometimes. He could be cruel. Vicious. You know he was bullied in his last school. He wasn’t at the new one. Apparently, he changed. Got wilder, more reckless. Like he had no fear of consequences. No boundaries. It’s like there were two sides of him. He could be really nice, especially to girls, although, apparently, some of them thought he was creepy, whatever than means. But if he was confronted, he could turn on a sixpence and be completely remorseless.’

  ‘So, you’re saying our son turned into some kind of psycho? And we didn’t see it? I don’t believe this.’ She was shaking her head repeatedly, like a metronome, unaware that she was doing it. ‘How could you even listen to this crap? He’s your son, for God’s sake! Your own flesh and blood and you sit there condemning him? What kind of father could even do that?’ She snatched her hands away and pushed herself back on the sofa, fear and loathing filling her eyes.

  Something twisted in Pete’s stomach. This wasn’t going as he’d hoped – not at all. ‘I’m not condemning him. I’m not even accusing him of anything. If you listened to what I said, Lou, I said that he was there. Willingly or not. I’m a police officer. It’s just a figure of speech. I want as much as you do, as much as Rosie Whitlock does, to see him proved innocent. Another victim of this bloke he was with. All I’m saying is, there are people out there who’ll paint a different picture. And that may be why Tommy’s not come home. If he’s aware of that, it might scare him into thinking he’ll be arrested, accused of being a willing participant in what happened to Rosie and those other girls. And there is evidence, Lou. Forensics. The bloke could twist things around to accuse Tommy instead of himself. These paedophiles do that kind of thing. They’re often master manipulators. It’s how they get what they want in life. How they get to abuse their victims and get away with it.’

  ‘And this man’s going to accuse our son, our Tommy, of being part of what he was clearly a victim of? Can’t you disprove it? Can’t you fight him?’

  ‘As I said, there is forensic evidence on his side. There’s a lot of work still to do, but the surface impression isn’t good. That’s all I know, at the moment.’

  ‘Then get it looked into more deeply.’ She sat forward, her gaze fixed on his with an almost desperate intensity. ‘Get everything done that can be done, Pete. We need the truth. The finest details of it, if they can prove this man’s setting Tommy up.’

  ‘I know. And it’s in hand. But, what I’m saying is, Tommy doesn’t know that. If he’s out there, alive and free as I hope he is, then he’s probably running scared. Who knows what the man told him? Probably put the fear of God into him with all kinds of nightmare scenarios.’

  Behind him, in the hall, the phone rang. Louise jumped violently. Pete stood up and went to answer it.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Boss, it’s Dave. We’ve looked through the CCTV from the Co-op on the Dunsford Road, for when Burton claimed to have dropped Tommy off there.’

  Fear swooped in Pete’s stomach. ‘And?’

  ‘Nothing. No sign of him. There’s a peripheral view of what could be Burton’s Citroën driving past at the right time, but we can’t get a registration off it and it doesn’t stop. Tommy wasn’t there, boss. Burton was lying.’

  Pete sagged against the wall, eyes closing, but it wasn’t enough. He sat down heavily on the stairs.

  ‘Boss?’

  ‘Yes. Sorry, Dave. I’m still here. Thanks for letting me know. You’ll have to have another go at Burton, then.’

  ‘My pleasure, boss.’

  ‘Don’t enjoy it too much, Dave. We want to be able to convict the bastard afterwards.’

  ‘True. But priority one’s got to be finding Tommy. If he’s back to being a misper, then we can pull out all the stops. No stone unturned and no quarter given.’

  Pete squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could then snapped them open and shook his head. ‘You’d best talk that through with Colin. He’s my son, so that’s me back on the sidelines, isn’t it? I’ve already had orders to that effect.’

  Dave went quiet. Pete could almost feel him fighting with himself on the other end of the line. ‘I’ll keep you posted, boss.’

  ‘Thanks, Dave.’ He put the phone down and sat for a moment.

  If Tommy wasn’t at the Co-op, what else was Burton lying about? Surely, that deception would discount the rest of his testimony. And, with the victim herself onside, that would mean that Tommy had no case to answer. He’d be considered as another victim.

  Pete drew a deep breath and stood up to go back into the sitting room.

  Louise looked up as he entered. ‘Work?’

  ‘Dave. He’s got proof that Burton’s lying about Tommy – at least about part of his story.’

  She slumped in her seat. ‘Thank God! Then . . .’ She stood up, took his hands in hers. ‘We can reach out to him. Put out a press appeal. Let him know that everything will be all right and he can come home!’ She broke off with a sob.

  ‘Nothing’s set in stone yet, Lou. We need to finish interrogating Burton. Or Dave does. And how’s Tommy going to get to see something like that, if he’s on the run? He won’t be looking at newspapers and how’s he going to see a TV, except in a shop window with no sound? It’s not going to be easy to reach him.’

  ‘Then, think,’ she shouted. ‘Figure it out, because this is our son we’re talking about. Our son!’ She broke down and cried and Pete leaned in and took her in his arms, trying to comfort her, but she fought him off. ‘Don’t just sit there,’ she sobbed. ‘Get out there and fix this.’

  ‘You think I wouldn’t, if I could?’ He stepped back from her, holding her at arm’s length as he stared into her tear-stained face. ‘He’s my son, too, remember. I know I haven’t been the be
st dad in the world. Christ, if I could go back in time . . .’ He shook his head quickly. ‘I’ll do whatever I can to find him, to bring him back to us. Believe me, I will. I’m just saying, it’s not going to be easy or quick. And, in the meantime, I’m going to change my priorities in life. From now on, family comes first, no matter what. The job takes second place.’

  ‘Yeah, I’ll believe that when I see it,’ she snorted.

  ‘Then believe it. Because you will see it, starting with Tommy. Somehow – and I don’t know how yet – I will get a message to him, to come home. That he’s safe. He’s loved and needed here.’ He drew her into a hug, stroking her hair with one hand while the other held her close.

  They stood like that for a long time, as if in a pause between the steps of a slow dance. He could feel her face buried into his neck, her arms around his body, breasts pressed into his chest. Even their thighs were in contact. God, he had missed this closeness over the past few months! Finally, they were fitting together like they used to – like two halves of the same being. Yin and yang. It was like the part of him that had been missing all this time was suddenly back in place. He was whole again. The hollow space that he had barely been aware of in a conscious sense was filled, perfectly and completely.

  He moved his hand down from her hair to her back, pulling her in even tighter, squeezing with not just his arms but his whole body in an intense but gentle reaffirmation of their one-ness together. He kissed her hair.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he breathed.

  ‘What for?’ she murmured.

  ‘For not being here for you, or for Tommy and Annie as much as I should have been.’

  Her arms tightened around him and she clung to him. ‘It’s not just you. I haven’t been the best, lately. And even before . . .’

  He stroked her hair again. ‘You’re the best mother I know. The only one our kids have got and the only one they want. We will get through this together. I promise.’

  He felt her stiffen for the briefest moment, then she relaxed into him once again. ‘I know.’

  Looking for more from DS Peter Gayle, then don’t miss the next gripping case, coming soon: