by David Blake
‘Did you send her out, pretending to be the girl she saw thrown over the side of that boat?’
‘Alice didn’t see what happened. It was me. I was the one with the telescope.’
‘I suppose you saw the boat’s name, tracking the owners down before sending them those letters?’
‘You’ve no idea how difficult it’s been,’ Chapman began, his mouth quivering uncontrollably as tears began circling the edges of his eyes. ‘My wife’s illness left us without a penny, nobody will give me a job, and I’m about two weeks away from losing the house. I’ve barely got enough money to put food on the table, and there are these stinking rich bastards, out in their fat pretentious yacht, doing the most unimaginably disgusting things to this poor girl who couldn’t have been much older than Alice, before discarding her body over the side of their boat as if she was of no more value than a sack of rotten potatoes.’
‘Does your daughter know – about your blackmail attempt.’
‘Nothing.’
‘You sent her out to deliver the letters, without telling her what they said?’
‘She’d have never understood. I just told her where to take them.’
‘Was that her we saw, near Sanders’ boat today?’
‘She was supposed to ask if he’d received the letter. He wasn’t paying up. None of them had.’
Tanner caught the man’s eyes. ‘You do realise that your actions have led to the murder of three innocent women?’
‘That’s got nothing to do with me!’
‘You’re right, it doesn’t. It’s your daughter who may find herself paying the price.’
Chapman’s expression transformed from fearful dread to one of pleading desperation. ‘You’ve got to find her for me. You’ve got to find her!’
Tanner drew in a short shallow breath. ‘Does she have a phone?’
Chapman nodded, tears now falling freely down the sides of his sunken grey face.
‘I assume you’ve tried calling her?’
‘Of course. It just keeps going through to voicemail.’
‘Where was she supposed to go, after seeing Mr Sanders?’
‘Straight back here. There’s a bus that stops at the end of the lane. Number 42. It only comes once an hour.’
‘When’s the next one?’
‘I saw it go past, just before you arrived.’
Hearing the faint sound of his phone ringing, Tanner delved a hand inside his coat to find it. ‘Hold on,’ he said, digging it out to see that it was Vicky. ‘I need to take this.’
Answering the call, he turned away, pressing the end against his ear. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Not great, I’m afraid.’
Tanner held his breath. ‘Why? What’s up?’
‘We’ve just pulled up at Acle Dyke. Sanders’ boat isn’t here.’
‘Is it not up at the other end?’
‘I’ve already looked. I’m sorry, John. It’s gone. He must have taken off.’
Tanner cursed quietly under his breath. ‘Any sign of the girl, Alice?’
‘Nothing!’
‘OK, call Forrester. Tell him to get an all-ports warning out for both the girl and our estranged suspect. And make sure to let the coastguard know as well.’
‘You think he’ll be heading out to sea – in this?’
‘Just because we wouldn’t, I don’t think we should assume that he won’t.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Ask him to send some police patrol boats to where you are now. I think it’s more likely he’d have been planning on finding a quiet sheltered mooring nearby, at least until the storm passes.’
‘What about you?’
‘I’m heading over to you now. Don’t move until I get there.’
Ending the call, Tanner straightaway began making another.
‘What’s going on?’ he heard Chapman demand behind him.
Tanner lifted his phone back to his ear to glance around. ‘The guy you were trying to blackmail – his boat’s gone.’
‘What about my daughter?’
‘No sign, I’m afraid,’ Tanner replied, turning away again to begin another conversation.
‘Christine, it’s John. I don’t suppose you’re anywhere near Acle Dyke, by any chance?’
CHAPTER FIFTY NINE
ARRIVING AT THE carpark opposite Acle Dyke, with Chapman following in the car behind, Tanner skidded to halt besides Vicky’s to clamber out. After staring momentarily about, the fingers of one hand clamped firmly onto the rim of his hood, he spotted her taking shelter under the narrow entrance to the local shop. The moment he saw Chapman open his door, he called over to him, pointing to where Vicky was before turning to begin forging his way towards her through savage gusts of turbulent wind.
‘Any news?’ he shouted, tucking himself under the shop’s narrow alcove.
‘I told forensics to go,’ Vicky replied. ‘I couldn’t see any point in them sticking around.’
‘I meant about Sanders?’
‘Nothing good. One of the locals said he saw a tall middle-aged man dragging a young girl on board his over-sized boat before motoring away in a cloud of diesel fumes.’
‘Jesus Christ! Didn’t he think to call the police?’
‘He said he assumed it was the man’s daughter.’
Tanner shook his head in disbelief. ‘So Sanders definitely has her.’
‘I’d say so,’ came Vicky’s despondent reply.
‘Any idea which way he went?’
‘He didn’t see.’
‘Great,’ Tanner replied, just as Chapman came running up.
‘Has there been any news? Have you found my daughter?’
‘This is George Chapman,’ responded Tanner, by way of introduction. ‘He’s the one who’s been attempting to blackmail Iain Sanders and his two now deceased friends.’
‘Have you found her?’ the man repeated, his eyes lurching between the two police officers.
‘I’m afraid it looks like your one surviving blackmail victim has her on board his boat.’
Chapman froze, the skin of his face tightening with angst-ladened fear. ‘Where’s he taking her?’
‘That’s what we have to find out,’ Tanner replied, his attention returning to Vicky. ‘Did you get Forrester to send boat support?’
‘Uh-huh,’ she replied, peering through the rain towards the end of the dyke. ‘I also mentioned about the all-ports warning and the coastguard, although he didn’t sound particularly convinced that either would be necessary.’
‘But he did call them, though?’
‘He said he would. He also said he was going to send Cooper down.’
Tanner gave her an indifferent shrug. ‘The more the merrier, I suppose.’
‘Townsend as well. They should be here any minute,’ she continued, glancing down at her watch.
Tanner nodded over towards the entrance to the carpark as a pair of headlights swept into view. ‘Looks like that’s them now,’ he commented, seeing the sleek muscular shape of Cooper’s Audi A5 emerge out through the deluge of rain.
An intermittent sliver of blue flashing light glinting off the tops of the surrounding trees had Vicky looking past the Audi to the road behind.
‘I don’t think that’s a squad car,’ commented Tanner, his own attention being drawn to the river. ‘I’d say it’s more likely to be a patrol boat.’
CHAPTER SIXTY
WAITING FOR COOPER and Townsend to join them, the burgeoning group fought their way through the elements to reach the River Thurne at the end of the short narrow dyke. There to meet them were no less than two police patrol boats, each battling against wind and wave in a bid to secure themselves to the river’s slippery grass bank.
‘What’s the plan?’ yelled the nearest driver, shutting off his engine to help his colleague make fast the mooring lines.
‘Our suspect is a man called Iain Sanders.’ Tanner shouted back. ‘We believe he has a hostage. A girl by the name of Alice Chapman. She
’s only fifteen, so it’s imperative that we find them.’
‘Do we know what sort of boat he’s in?’
‘A fifty-foot Fairline Squadron called Medusa, so he shouldn’t be too difficult to spot, unless of course he’s already made it out to sea.’
‘Is that likely?’ the police officer asked, taking hold of the railing as his boat lifted and fell in the river’s rolling water.
Tanner shrugged. ‘I’ve no idea. He could have, but I think it’s more likely that he’ll try to haul up inland somewhere, at least until the storm’s passed.’
The driver lifted his head to stare first upriver, then down. ‘Then I think our best bet will be to make our way to the end of the Bure at Great Yarmouth. There’s no other way out to the sea from here, so if he does try, it should be possible for us to head him off. Meanwhile, my colleagues in the other boat can help search the waterways inland, although it would be useful to have a few more boats.’
‘There should be a Broads Ranger joining us,’ Tanner replied, glancing up to see one of their patrol boats speeding into view. ‘That should be her now. Would you be able to take some of my people?’
‘We keep spare waterproofs and life jackets down in the cabin.’
Tanner nodded before turning to face the group huddled behind him. ‘Cooper and Townsend, you go in this boat. Make your way down to Great Yarmouth; just in case he’s stupid enough to try and make a run for the sea. On the way, radio ahead to the yacht station. Tell them to keep their eyes open for a fifty-foot Fairline Squadron. If they see it they have to tell us immediately, but under no circumstances are they to try and stop it, not if there’s a hostage on board.
‘Vicky, you take the boat behind. Follow the River Bure up to Horning. Take a look down Fleet Dyke on the way. If he’s not lurking along there somewhere, try Malthouse Broad.’
Vicky nodded her confirmation. ‘How about you?’
‘Mr Chapman and I will catch a lift with Christine. We’ll see if he’s headed up the Thurne before swinging back to take a look along the Ant. Three rivers, three boats. With a Fairline the size of his, one of us should be able to find him.’
CHAPTER SIXTY ONE
DRAGGING CHAPMAN WITH him, Tanner made his way upriver to where he could clearly see Christine, frantically trying to steer the boat into the bank against the vicious twisting wind.
‘Thanks for coming!’ he hollered, catching the line thrown to him to begin heaving back. ‘Christine, this is George Chapman. It’s his daughter who we believe has been taken. Is it alright if we come aboard?’
Christine gave him the briefest of nods, her attention focussed on endeavouring to keep the boat parallel with the bank. ‘You’ll find lifejackets below. There should be some waterproofs down there as well.’
Keeping hold of the rope with one hand, Tanner used the other to help Chapman on board before stepping on himself.
Spinning the wheel between her hands, she caught Tanner’s eye. ‘OK, so, what’s the plan?’
Tanner waited for the boat to safely clear the bank before lifting his voice to answer. ‘I’ve got a patrol boat heading down towards Great Yarmouth; just in case he’s stupid enough to head out to sea. The other is making its way towards Horning,’ he continued, waving at Vicky as she surged past them in the second police boat. ‘I’ve told her to take a look at South Walsham and Malthouse Broad on the way.’
‘How about us?’
‘I thought we’d start with a quick trip up the Thurne.’
‘But he won’t be able to pass under the bridge at Potter Heigham, not if he’s in a fifty-foot Fairline Squadron.’
‘Which is why I thought he might try hiding somewhere this side of it, thinking it would be the last place we’d look.’
‘OK, well, Womack Water is up that way,’ added Christine, easing forward on the throttle. ‘The willow trees at the end would give him enough cover. It’s sheltered from the wind as well.’
CHAPTER SIXTY TWO
WITH TANNER HELPING Chapman on with a lifejacket before clawing into one himself, Christine began blasting them up the River Bure, back the way she’d come. With barrels of white water flying past both sides of the hull, it wasn’t long before they were making the gradual turn into the River Thurne.
As the giant white windmill standing at the edge of Thurne Dyke disappeared to their right, Christine yelled over to Tanner. ‘Shall I keep heading up to Potter Heigham, or make a left for Womack Water?’
Tanner glanced over from where he was crouched on the side of the boat, his abandoned fluorescent hood left flapping in the wind. ‘Let’s try Womack first,’ he bellowed. ‘What you said makes sense. If he did come up this way, that’s where he’d be.’
Nodding in agreement, Christine steered the boat around a gradual bend before slowing to make a hard left, forcing Tanner to grab hold of one of the handrails to stop him being hurled down onto the cockpit’s floor.
With the channel instantly narrowing with lines of boats cluttering up one side, Tanner stood up to begin staring about.
‘Anything?’ asked Christine, as they motored slowly past the dyke at the bottom of which stood the infamous Falcon’s Yard.
Tanner cast his eyes down to the boatshed he could see at the end. As memories of him falling in to become entangled by the lifeless limbs of long-dead bodies began creeping their way to the forefront of his mind, he shook his head clear, forcing himself to stare ahead. ‘Nothing yet,’ he eventually replied, as trees began appearing on either side, the tops of their branches being lashed by the vicious unrelenting wind.
A moment later, something caught his eye. It was a sliver of white about twenty meters away, hovering between the water and the cascading branches of a giant weeping willow. ‘I think I can see something,’ he eventually replied, holding up his hand as a signal for Christine to slow the boat to a crawl.
As they glided effortlessly through the water, a vortex of gusting wind came twisting through the gaps in the trees above, forcing apart the willow’s low-hanging branches to reveal the outline of what he knew to be Sander’s Fairline Squadron.
‘It’s him!’ he stated, glaring ahead.
‘Can you see my daughter?’ came Chapman’s voice, Tanner’s words bringing him stumbling out from the patrol boat’s cabin.
‘Not yet,’ Tanner eventually replied, as the three of them did their best to both watch and listen for even the vaguest signs of life. But with the Fairline almost completely hidden by the veil of vertically hanging branches, and the unrelenting noise of both rain and wind, it was impossible to tell if there either was or wasn’t.
‘Can’t we just climb on board to find out?’ Chapman questioned, a stark pleading tone to the edge of his voice.
Tanner shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have a search warrant.’
‘We don’t have to go inside – just take a look through the windows.’
The moment he said it, a shadow flickered behind the canopy at the back, immediately followed by the shrill but muted sound of a young girl’s scream.