by M K Farrar
DC Rudd and Howard made up Command Two.
“Yes,” said Howard. “It’s a white Ford Transit Van, but the licence plate is partially obscured. Looks like it starts with a C and ends with J. Second letter is possibly an O or a G. That’s all I’ve got.”
Shouts of ‘Out! Out!’ and ‘Move it’ came across the wire, followed by bangs on the side of the car.
“I’ve got a sick girl here,” Angela shouted. “You need to give us a minute.”
“They’re being relocated into the other vehicle,” said Command Two.
“It’s okay. We can still track them. Nothing’s changed.”
She’d suspected something like this might happen. She’d highly doubted the first meeting point would have been the last.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Angela kept her arm wrapped tightly around her daughter’s shoulders as they were hustled from their car into the back of the van. Milly stared up at her with wide, worried eyes, and Angela gave her another squeeze. She prayed she wasn’t making a terrible mistake by helping the police. She was putting Milly in danger when she was only ever trying to help her.
Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure the police on the other end of the wire would be able to hear it. Mentally, she reassured herself that they weren’t alone, and there were vehicles filled with police right around the corner, but that didn’t make it any less frightening.
What had she been thinking, getting them into this? She’d been desperate to get Milly better, whatever the cost. But she’d never admitted to herself that the cost might be someone else’s life. She’d contributed to this situation, however much she might plead naivety. Hadn’t she known that someone else’s life might be put in danger by agreeing to take an illegal organ? Even if this had been a case of another person willingly selling a kidney in return for money, it still didn’t mean it was safe. They still would have put themselves through a dangerous operation—in who knew what kind of conditions—in order to have the kidney removed, and then they’d have to go through life in the hope that nothing happened to the other one.
The men in the front of the van didn’t speak.
Angela leaned forwards to address them. “Where are we going?”
She was hoping she could fish for information she could feed on to the police.
“To the clinic,” the man in the passenger seat replied gruffly.
“And where is that, exactly?”
“Wait and see.”
She cleared her throat and tried again. “How long is it going to take to get there?”
“What is this? Fifty fucking questions? Just sit back and shut up.”
Angela sucked in a breath and straightened her spine, reminding herself who she was. “I am paying an awful lot of money to make this happen. I certainly don’t expect to be spoken to in such a way.”
The man driving snorted with laughter.
Milly shot her mother a look that silently said, Mum, don’t!
Angela bristled, her fear mixing with anger. They weren’t supposed to be treated like criminals.
Even though they were.
No, they were being treated like the immigrants who’d been taken advantage of.
Angela clutched Milly’s hand tight and tried not to tremble.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chau’s hopes that she’d be able to ask for help when they took her to a hospital diminished the moment she was allowed out of the chilled room.
She already was in a hospital.
Maybe it wasn’t a hospital exactly, but it had beds and medical equipment. The man in the suit now had that suit covered with a white coat.
“Good morning, Chau. I hope you managed to get some sleep. I’d like you to put this on, please.” He handed her a gown. “We’re going to run a few more tests this morning, okay?”
“Then I go home?”
She wasn’t even sure where home was anymore. Was it back in Vietnam, with the rest of her family, or in that horrible house they’d been living? No, home was with her mother, the one person who’d done everything she could to protect her. And it still hadn’t been enough.
He didn’t answer her. “Hop up onto the bed. I want to check your blood pressure.”
She wasn’t sure what that meant. Her gaze darted over his shoulder at the doorway. Could she run? She was going to need to try something. However much this man smiled and talked kindly, she could tell it was all an act. His smile didn’t reach his eyes, even though they crinkled at the edges.
The bed was made of metal and a little too high for her, and she had to pull herself up backwards, her hands planted on the bed, wriggling her backside up onto the edge. Not knowing what else to do, she put out her arm for him to wrap the band around.
The flash of another white coat flicked past the door.
Her stomach lurched; someone else was here.
This was her chance.
“Help!” Chau jumped from the bed and ran for the door. “Please, help me!”
Somehow, she managed to get through the door, and she ran out into the hallway, the gown flapping behind her. The woman was already walking away, and panic burst through Chau, certain the doctor-man was going to grab her from behind, and the woman would keep walking, but she didn’t.
She turned with a frown and drew to a halt. Chau almost collided with her, and the woman gripped Chau’s upper arm to prevent her falling.
“What’s going on?”
All Chau’s English vanished from her head, and she found she was only able to repeat what she’d already said, “Please, help me.”
The woman’s hand around her upper arm tightened. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be out here, are you?”
“Help me.”
A man’s voice from behind. “It’s okay, Rachel. I’ve got this.”
She spun to see the man approaching. He was still calm and wore the smile she was quickly growing to hate.
He took hold of her, and the woman released her, and then she was back in the room again—the one with the shiny table that was supposed to be a bed.
“I was hoping we’d be able to do this without any violence, Chau, or at least as little as possible. I do hate any unpleasantness. But it seems you want to make this difficult for us both, which is disappointing. Think of that poor girl you’re going to be letting down. How could you do that to another person in need?”
Much of what he said went over Chau’s head—not only because her English had fled amid her rising panic, but also because her pulse pounded in her ears like the rush of a waterfall.
She darted for the door again, and he yanked her back, swinging her around so she slammed against the wall. Her head cracked on plasterboard, and her vision danced with white dots and a high-pitched ringing sounded in her ears. The floor seemed to tilt beneath her, and her legs turned to mush. She felt herself falling but was unable to do anything to stop herself.
Before she hit the linoleum, hands caught her. Then she was lifted into the air and carried over and laid on something cool and smooth.
The bed. The strange silver bed!
Panic shot through her again, pulling her back into the real world. She tried to sit up, but something tightened around her wrist. She turned her face towards it. A leather strap was holding her wrist to the metal table. The man walked to the other side, remaining near her head, and quickly strapped down her other wrist. She opened her mouth to scream, but the silver flash of a needle silenced her with terror. The needle plunged into her skin, and she gasped at the sting of pain.
“Sorry, young lady. I’d hoped we’d be able to be more civilised about this, but I can see you’re going to give me trouble like the last one. Now, take some deep breaths and count backwards from one hundred, or whatever that is in your language, and before long you’ll be fast asleep and won’t have any idea what’s coming next.”
She wanted to scream and cry, but her tongue and lips didn’t seem to be working anymore. All she could do was let out a low moan.
Her eyelids felt impossibly heavy, and her eyeballs itched. Her legs no longer belonged to her, and she couldn’t have moved even if she’d wanted to.
Her last thought was for her mother and how much she wished she was with her.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The radio came to life, and DC Jon Howard’s voice came over it. “This is Command Two. The van has come to a halt around the back of a private skincare clinic on Devon Street, New Cross.”
Erica looked to Shawn. “That must be where they’re planning to perform the operation.”
“Angela and Millicent Hargreaves are out of the van,” Howard continued. “They’re being taken around the back of the building by a woman in her mid-thirties wearing a white coat. Shall we proceed?”
“Wait for us. We’re one minute away.”
A male voice came over the wire. “Ms Hargreaves, thank you for coming. I apologise for the way you were treated on the way here. This must be Milly. I’ve heard a lot about you, Milly. If you could both come with me, we’ll get everything started.”
Erica prayed they weren’t too late for Chau Phan. She had placed her bets on there needing to be tests done before the transplant, and they would take time, so they wouldn’t want the kidney just sitting around and so would have kept Chau alive for as long as possible, but there was always the chance the girl was already dead.
Over the wire, they could hear Angela talking. She was babbling about how nervous they were to have the operation and how they hadn’t slept much the night before.
The surveillance van pulled into the car park, and Erica reached for the door handle. She looked to the Armed Surveillance Officers.
“Ready?” she asked them.
The lead officer jerked his head in a nod inside his helmet. “Ready.”
They needed to act, and fast.
The ASOs led the way. Erica didn’t think the man they were after would be armed, but there was always the chance.
Rudd and Howard were out of their car.
“They went around the back,” Howard said.
Erica nodded. “Take the front and secure the entrance. Don’t let anyone leave.”
Erica and the rest of Command One moved at a trot, following the route Angela and Milly had taken only minutes earlier. At the back door, the lead ASO kicked it open.
“Police!” he shouted. “Stay right where you are.”
It was too early for their regular clients, but a couple of staff members in white coats milled around. They froze at the intrusion, wide-eyed in fear at the sight of the gun.
“Where are the woman and girl who were just brought in here?” Erica demanded of one of the women.
She pointed down the corridor.
Angela’s shout echoed towards them. “Here! We’re down—” Her words were cut off. A door swung shut, and something buzzed.
“Go, go, go,” Erica told her officers, and they raced down the corridor in the direction of Angela’s shout.
Where was Chua Phan?
The Armed Surveillance Officers got there first to clear the way. “The door’s locked,” one of them called back to her. “It’s solid metal. I can’t get through.”
“Shit. Get into it.”
“It’s got a card swipe.”
Erica grabbed the young woman who’d pointed them in the right direction. “Get that door open.”
She shook her head furiously. “We’re not allowed back there. My access card won’t work.”
“There must be another way in.”
“The...the office.” She pointed to a door on the other side of the corridor. “There’s a master card in there, but it’s only to be used in emergencies.”
“I’d say this was an emergency, wouldn’t you? Where is it?”
“In his desk.”
Shawn ran back to the office. Erica heard the crash and bang as he tore through the desk.
“Got it!” he yelled.
He ran back to the metal door and swiped the card. The door buzzed, and a green light flashed. They were in.
The two ASOs went first, sweeping into the room, their guns raised. Erica followed, Shawn close behind.
Angel stood in the far corner, her hand covering her mouth, her eyes wide in terror. In the middle of the room, Chau Phan was strapped to an operating table. The man Erica had first seen on the social media site on Angela Hargreaves’ phone stood on the opposite side of the room. One arm was locked around Millicent Hargreaves’ throat, while the other hand pressed a needle to the girl’s neck.
“Stay back,” he shouted. “This contains a lethal dose of fentanyl. If you come any closer, I’ll inject it into her bloodstream, and she’ll die.”
Erica kept her voice calm. “It’s over, Beckett. There’s no point in taking an innocent girl down with you as well. We know exactly what you’ve been up to and have half your people in custody, all of whom will happily testify against you if it means shortening their own sentences.”
“As will I,” Angela threw in, “and if you harm a single hair on my daughter’s head, I’ll kill you myself.”
He gave a cold laugh and shot a look of pure derision at Angela. “Without me, this girl’s already dead, and you know it.”
Angela stared at him. “Don’t say that.”
“Why? Because it’s the truth?”
With a scream of absolute anger and heartbreak, Angela snatched up the item closest to her—a scalpel—and rushed at James Beckett. He released Milly to deal with the onslaught of her mother.
The lead Armed Surveillance Officer took his shot. Two cracks of gunfire exploded in the small space, and James Beckett collapsed before Angela had even reached him. Milly screamed and dropped to the floor, then she scurried away, into her mother’s arms. The scalpel fell from Angela’s fingers.
“We need an ambulance,” Erica called out.
She’d made sure they had medical attention nearby in preparation. Not only was Milly in poor health, but there had always been a chance of serious injury.
Besides, the ambulance wasn’t only for James Beckett, who’d been shot once in the thigh and again in the hip, but was still breathing and just about conscious. No, she was more concerned for the little girl lying on the table.
“It’s on its way,” Rudd shouted back at her. “ETA six minutes.”
Erica rushed up to Chau and worked on undoing the leather straps holding her to the table.
“What did you give her, you bastard,” she yelled at Beckett. “What did you give her?”
But even if he would have told her, he was too out of it to be able to string a proper word together. Instead, he moaned in pain, and Erica hoped he’d never hurt so much in his life.
She checked Chau’s vitals and was relieved to find she was breathing and her pulse was steady. It was most likely just a sedation of some kind, but she still wanted to get her seen by a paramedic and then a doctor.
“Call DS Shariff,” she told Shawn. “Let her know Chau is alive so she can pass on the information to her mother.”
Shawn nodded and stepped out of the room.
How many of the staff at the clinic had known something untoward was going on? There would be an investigation into it. It seemed a few of them did, from the way they’d tried to run when the place was being raided. An investigation would throw light upon it all.
To her relief, she heard the wail of an ambulance siren, and moments later came the thump of footsteps running towards her. Two paramedics burst into the room.
“She’s been given some kind of sedative,” Erica told them. “I don’t know what.” She saw them notice the man bleeding on the floor. “And he’s been shot twice.” She stopped herself adding, ‘and he deserved it.’ As much as she might think it, saying that sort of thing out loud in front of strangers could cost her job.
Crossing the room, now that Chau was in safe hands, she pulled James Beckett’s hands behind his back and clicked on a pair of handcuffs. She didn’t think he’d be going anywhere, but she didn’t want to p
ut either paramedic in any danger while they were working on him. Beckett didn’t even notice. He was too busy crying and moaning with pain.
Good.
Erica stood and ran her hand through her hair. Chau was safe, and Beckett wouldn’t be taking advantage of any more immigrants. Her gaze flicked over to where Angela held her daughter on the floor, both of them crying. Despite what Angela had done, she couldn’t help her heart going out to them. She didn’t know what the future would hold for Linh and Chau Phan, but at least they had each other and would be together. She feared now the chance of Milly getting a kidney had been put to a stop, the mother and daughter wouldn’t have the same happy ending.
Erica would need to head back to the office to go through a debriefing with her team, but, once that was done, she intended to go home and hug Poppy as hard as she could.
Chapter Forty
Poppy sat at the living room window, looking out onto the street. She’d been sitting there for twenty minutes now.
“Watching out for him is not going to make him arrive any sooner, Pops,” Erica said with a laugh.
“When’s he going to get here?”
“Any minute now.”
The little girl threw back her head and gave a gasp of exasperation. “You’ve said that every time I asked.”
“That’s because you’ve asked me every three seconds.”
Erica had finally managed to invite Shawn over for that dinner she’d promised him. She’d cooked a roast chicken and hoped he wouldn’t be disappointed. She still felt as though dinner with her and Poppy was hardly a fun night out. Then she chided herself. She knew of one mother in particular who would have given anything to have roast chicken with her daughter this evening.
Millicent Hargreaves had died, with her mother at her bedside, three weeks after James Beckett’s arrest. Her body simply hadn’t been strong enough to keep going, and she’d suffered a heart attack, followed by multi-organ failure. Enough was enough. Her young body had been fighting for much of its fourteen short years, and it simply couldn’t take any more.