by Joy Ellis
‘No, but she told her friend that the man who helped her was, and I quote, “An angel in her time of need.”’ Max pulled a face. ‘And it looks like he turned out to be a bloody angel of death.’
‘If it was the man who killed her,’ corrected Jackman. ‘We don’t know that for sure yet.’
‘I think we do, sir,’ added Charlie. ‘Because our party animal, the ever-smiling nurse, Julia Hope, was also having difficulties that she didn’t want to share with her doctor.’ He threw Jackman a doom-laden look, ‘and she too found herself an angel, one with a pocket full of helpful little pills.’
‘Who told you this?’
‘Her sister.’ Charlie held up an email printout. ‘Anna never said anything before because she didn’t know about it. She’d had some problem with her email server, then found herself in the back of beyond for a couple of weeks. When she sorted it out and found this in her inbox she contacted us. Julia sent it a little while ago but Anna never saw it. It admits that she was fighting a serious form of depression and she was too scared and embarrassed to seek professional help. She told Anna that “A wonderful friend was helping her, someone she trusted totally.”’
‘Big mistake,’ muttered Max. ‘But add these to the fact that Alison Fleet’s drug source was strictly non-kosher, and we know that they all approached someone who was apparently above-board and trustworthy.’
Jackman closed his eyes and thought. ‘So, why kill them? If they were a source of income, why shoot the goose that lays the golden egg?’
Max scowled. ‘Mm, that’s the downside of it all. I’m buggered if I can think why he’d top them.’
‘Maybe we should hit the CCTV? See if we can pick up one of the women meeting up with a man.’ Charlie didn’t sound too convinced by his own suggestion.
‘I think they would have taken care to be discreet, don’t you?’ said Jackman.
‘I’ve asked a snout of mine to see if any of the local pushers deals specifically with those particular happy pills,’ said Max. ‘But frankly none of the low-life dealers around this town could be described as “angels.” This bloke sounds like some super-smooth conman with a silver tongue and a direct pipeline to a drug supply.’ He flopped down onto a chair. ‘Where’s the sarge, guv? Still with the shrink?’
‘On her way back.’ Jackman headed for his office. ‘Tell her to see me immediately she gets in, and I think it’s time you two called it a day. You’re out on your feet.’
‘How can we go home when everything is hanging in the balance, and the balloon could go up at any moment?’ Charlie asked.
‘Yeah, we have a missing killer, or perhaps just a missing lunatic, we’re not too sure about that yet, his missing girlfriend, and now his bleeding best mate has gone missing, possibly hunting for the missing killer’s missing girl!’ Max rolled his eyes and spun two fingers either side of his temples. ‘And you expect us to walk out on all this fun, guv?’
‘Alright. One more hour. Then no matter who’s missing, it’s home, okay?’
Before the two young men could answer, a uniformed officer entered the office carrying a memo. ‘We’ve located Professor Preston’s missing vehicle, sir.’ He handed Jackman the note and left.
‘In a car park. Brilliant.’ He took his phone from a pocket and punched in Guy Preston’s number. Preston took a while to answer and was stifling a yawn as he spoke.
‘Sorry, it’s late, Guy, but I thought you should know that we’ve found your car.’
Guy apologised. ‘Sorry, Inspector, I’d just dozed off. But that’s great news. Where was it?’
‘He’d left it in the best place to hide a car.’ He paused. ‘In a customer car park. It wasn’t until the night security man did a walk round that it was noticed. It’s not damaged, but we’ll need to bring it in and give it the once-over before you can collect it.’
‘Of course,’ said Guy. ‘And thanks for letting me know. He paused, then said. ‘I suppose I couldn’t have a quick word with Marie, could I? I found a bracelet on the floor after she left. The clasp had broken. I guess it has to be hers.’
‘She’s not back yet. But she does wear a bracelet. Shall I get her to ring you when she gets in?’
‘But she left over twenty minutes ago,’ said Guy quietly. ‘And she said she was going directly back to HQ.’ His voice rose. ‘You don’t think she’s come off that awful bike of hers, do you?’
‘Don’t let her hear you call it that! And have you ever seen Marie ride?’
‘Not recently.’
‘I thought not.’
‘Even a good rider can have a bad day,’ said Guy nervously.
‘Okay, I’ll give you that, Doc, but with Marie the odds are different. I can only think that something has happened that she’s needed to deal with. I wouldn’t worry. I’m sure she’ll be here soon.’
‘Well, thank you again for letting me know about the car, and,’ he paused, ‘You would let me know if, er, well, if anything has happened to Marie?’
‘Of course.’ Jackman’s reply was clipped. No matter how well Marie was dealing with Preston’s crush on her, the man was obviously still attached to her.
He hung up. The sooner this case was over the better. Marie wasn’t complaining, but it couldn’t have been pleasant having Dr Labrador-eyes drooling after her. Though he wasn’t too sure why, Guy Preston’s fawning devotion was really starting to piss him off.
‘Sir!’ The uniformed officer who had just told them about Preston’s car burst back into the office. ‘A member of the public has reported seeing a motorcycle in the water close to the Blackland Sluice gate.’
Jackman went cold. ‘What kind of bike? Did they say?’
‘Just that it was a green one, sir.’
The coldness went to the marrow of his bones and he felt as if his heart had frozen. Please God, no. Not this, not now. Jackman swallowed. ‘Who is handling the shout?’
‘Two crews are out there already,’ said the constable. ‘And a fire crew has been dispatched to winch it out.’
Jackman thought out loud. ‘There are no houses along that stretch, just the pumping station and a few moorings. What about the water company’s CCTV?’
‘Our officers have already contacted the waterways authority about that. Someone will check as soon as we can get hold of them.’ The young officer stared at Jackman. ‘Are you okay, sir? You’re white as a ghost.’
‘I’m fine,’ said Jackman brusquely. But he was far from fine. In fact he felt as if his world was slowly falling into tiny ragged little pieces. ‘I need to go.’
‘The crew down there says there’s a good chance that it’s just the bike, sir. Trumpton reckons that there’s no way for a body to get out of the sluice unless the gates are opened wide, and they won’t be doing that until the water has been thoroughly checked. And there’s no floater in the pool either.’
Jackman felt sick. Pictures of Marie face down in the oily black waters ran through his mind, and his stomach churned.
‘I’ll go, guv.’ Max was suddenly at his side. ‘I know the sarge’s bike well enough, and I’ll keep you informed of everything that happens.’
‘Thanks, Max, but I want to go.’
‘I’m sure you do, but you should be here, all things considered.’ His face was lined with worry. ‘And for some reason, I don’t think she’s in the water. I know that stretch of road and there is absolutely no reason for an experienced rider like the sarge to finish up in the drink, no reason at all. This stinks, guv.’
Jackman knew Max was right, but if Marie was hurt, he wanted to be with her, simple.
‘I know what you’re thinking, guv, but I’m dead certain that someone wants you wasting your time, pacing up and down the towpath and tearing your hair out, while they get on with whatever it is they are planning.’
Jackman exhaled loudly. ‘Okay, but ring me if there’s the slightest hint that she could be there, alright?’
Max nodded and moved towards the door. ‘And if it’s all a
hoax, like I think it is, I’ll get back here faster than bleeding Usain Bolt.’
Jackman decided it was time to call Superintendent Crooke. Things were escalating and she needed to be told. He sat in his office and stared blankly at the wall as he waited for her to answer. If Marie was not in the water, where the hell was she?
Jackman explained everything to a bleary Ruth Crooke. After a string of expletives, she told him to stay at the station unless anything critical occurred, and she’d be with him in twenty minutes.
As he lowered the phone back into its cradle, Jackman was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of discomfort. Something he’d heard over the last few hours didn’t ring true, but he had no idea what it was that jarred so badly.
‘Guvnor?’ Charlie looked around his door. He never looked smart, but tonight he looked like he’d been dragged through a hedge backwards. ‘Any news about the sarge?’ he asked hopefully, while trying to tuck his shirt into his trousers.
‘Nothing, Charlie. Max will contact us from the crash scene when he knows something.’
‘It’s not a crash scene,’ said Charlie stoically. ‘I’m with Max on this one. If it is her bike in the sluice, then someone dumped it there purely to keep us busy.’
‘And what does that leave us with?’
‘Clearly the sarge has been taken. We need to try to pinpoint exactly where and when she went off the radar. Maybe then we can find who her abductor might be.’
Jackman looked at the young detective in amazement. Charlie Button was no whiz kid, and he was not always the sharpest knife in the drawer, but just sometimes he had such belief in his own conclusions that he carried you along with him. ‘Sit.’ Jackman indicated a chair, then pulled a sheet of printer paper from the tray beneath the computer and passed it across to Charlie. ‘Right. I spoke to her,’ he pulled out his phone and checked the log, ‘at exactly 23.16 hours. She said that she was just about to leave Guy Preston’s flat in Hanson Park.’ He watched as Charlie scribbled the time down. ‘Then I spoke to Preston, and he said that she had been gone for over twenty minutes. Hang on, let me get it exact.’ Once again he checked his calls log. ‘Twenty-five minutes later at 23.41 hours.’ He frowned. ‘Her usual route, assuming that was the one she took, would have been to leave Hanson Park, go along Park Villas, and take the main drag, Saltern High Road, down towards the Blackland Sluice, then cut off round the back doubles to the nick.’
‘Ten minutes max.’ Charlie raised an eyebrow. ‘Probably less, knowing the sarge’s disregard for speed restrictions, and there’s no traffic to speak of at this time of night.’
‘So someone intercepted her between Hanson Park and a point close to the sluice towpath, where they dumped her bike.’
Charlie looked up. ‘How would they do that exactly?’ His brow creased with thought. ‘How would you stop a speeding motorcycle? And make the rider get off and leave the bike?’
‘Wave her down, I guess? Stage some sort of incident? Like an accident or a collapse. Marie would always try to help a person in distress.’
‘Yes, she would, and she’d also stop if she saw someone she knew, like a person we are looking for.’
‘Someone like Daniel Kinder.’ Jackman knew that if she had spotted Kinder, Marie would have given chase. That was a certainty. He remembered Daniel shouting at Marie, asking why she didn’t believe him. Daniel really didn’t like Marie at all. He let out a low whistle. ‘That’s a distinct possibility.’
‘How about I take a couple of uniforms and go out to Hanson Park? Maybe someone saw her leave and noticed which route she took? That would give us something definite, wouldn’t it, guv?’
‘You won’t be too popular with the residents, dragging them from their slumbers, but you’re right. Go see what you can find, Charlie.’ He watched as the young man jumped up. ‘And try not to ruffle too many feathers. We don’t want any complaints if we can avoid them.’
‘I’ll be all charm and diplomacy, guv.’ He stopped at the door. ‘Should I call on the shrink? Just to double-check exactly when the sarge left?’
Jackman deliberated for a moment, then said, ‘No, don’t worry him. My phone log tells us quite enough. Let him get some sleep.’
‘Okay, guv.’
As Charlie left, Jackman’s mobile rang. He looked at the display and saw the name Skye Wynyard. He stabbed at the green button. ‘Skye! Thank heavens! Are you alright?’
‘I’m fine, Inspector, and I’ve heard from Daniel. He sounded so much more like his old self. He said that Guy Preston has really helped him. I’m so relieved, DI Jackman, I can’t tell you!’
‘Skye, we need to talk to him urgently. Did he say where he was?’
‘No. But we spoke for ages, and I told him that his mother had been in touch.’ She paused. ‘I didn’t want to tell him everything over the phone, but I said that I had really good news for him. With his record for disappearing, I thought I’d better keep him onside.’
‘I agree,’ said Jackman. ‘But where are you? We need you back here.’
‘I know. And I’ll be back shortly, I promise.’
Jackman didn’t like the fact that she’d sidestepped his first question. ‘Skye? Listen, whatever you do, do not approach Daniel. Or Mark either. No matter what you think. I want you to come back here immediately, do you understand? You might not be safe.’ Jackman waited for her reply, then realised she had gone.
He quickly rang her back, but it went straight to voicemail. He reiterated that he wanted her back immediately and prayed that she would react to his message. After a moment or two he jammed the phone back in his pocket. ‘Damn! And double damn!’ He left his office and ran down the stairs to the duty sergeant’s office. In a few minutes the sergeant had contacted the crew outside the Kinder house and had been told that all was quiet, no one in, no one out.
‘Quiet as the grave, sir,’ said the sergeant, ‘but if anything happens, I’ll get hold of you immediately.’
As he trudged back up the stairs, Jackman tried to take solace from the fact that Skye was safe right now, but all he kept thinking was, how long for? And was Marie safe? Jackman felt as if someone had reached into his chest and squeezed every atom of air from his lungs. Wherever Marie was, she was far from safe, and if they didn’t find her soon . . .
* * *
Kevin Stoner crept silently around the chalet room. He worked systematically, carefully lifting the thick cushions from the cane furniture and checking beneath the seats. He then moved on to the bar area. He opened the fridge, pulled bottles away from the back of the shelves and delved into a cupboard unit that was stacked with drinking glasses, jars of olives, boxes of foil-wrapped snacks and some very wizened lemons. He worked slowly and methodically, but found nothing.
Kevin stood up and stretched, suddenly feeling very glad that he’d decided to check the place out personally before getting the heavy mob in. It looked very much as though his theory had been a load of cobblers, and he might have just saved his own job by not going off half-cocked.
He stared at the hot tub. A thick turquoise-coloured thermal blanket was pulled across the surface of the water to keep the temperature up and any debris and dirt out. He knelt down and eased it back. There was a slightly unpleasant damp smell from beneath. The tub had not been in use for some while. He took his torch and shone it downwards, fearing that he would find something nasty floating in the stale water. But nothing nestled in the depths of the Kinder family jacuzzi.
With a soft sigh he straightened up and moved on to check the collection of planters that decorated the pool room. Taking care not to be seen, he lifted the plants out one by one, and made sure that nothing was concealed in the base of the pots.
As he replaced the last spiky-leafed, cactus-like plant back in its container, Kevin decided that his great idea was fast becoming a load of nothing. Still, he had yet to check out the sauna, and also the two doors that he guessed led into the house itself. Rubbing dirt from his hands, he made his way across to the sauna. He
opened the door slowly, hoping that there was no light inside that came on when the door was used. Luckily it remained dark and he was able to slip into the small space without drawing attention to the chalet.
Inside it smelled pleasantly of some kind of Scandinavian wood. Aspen maybe? Or perhaps it was spruce. It was a traditional layout, with the walls panelled with the pale wood, and there were upper and lower slatted benches with movable backrests. On one wall there was a stove laden with coal, a wooden protective rail around it.
All very nice, if you could afford it, thought Kevin, as he looked beneath one of the benches. With a sigh, he slipped back out into the pool room and looked around miserably. There were only the two doors left to check, and as he didn’t think it worthwhile trying to get into the main house, his sortie was just about over.
The door to the right had a glass panel in it, and carefully using his mini flashlight, Kevin saw that it did lead into the back hall of the house. He could see a security panel on the hall wall, and even though he had memorised the number from his earlier visit, he had no inclination to go inside. According to his boss, the house had been checked and rechecked when they first started the hunt for Daniel Kinder.
And that left the last door. Kevin frowned in the darkness. Whatever it was, it must have been checked out. But what was it? He thought about the layout of the house and couldn’t fathom out why it was there. Surely this part of the wall backed onto the dining room? And there was no door in there. He knew that for a fact.
Kevin grasped the handle and turned. Nothing happened. It neither opened, nor set off the alarm. His frown deepened and his curiosity took over.
In the darkness, Kevin Stoner made a swift decision. He needed to know what lay behind the door, even if he woke half the neighbourhood, although hopefully if the alarm was activated, it would only bleep and he would have enough time to punch in the security number. He felt in his pocket and removed a small key-ring with several picks and skeleton keys on it. He was far from adept, but it was an art that had intrigued him since he was a kid. That and the fact that his first boyfriend had been a would-be escapologist, something that Kevin had found both hysterically funny and hugely erotic. Dominic’s wild attempts at being a bound and chained Houdini often turned out to be more like bondage than escapology, but he did teach Kevin a lot about locks.