She looked quizzically at him. He was up to something but she couldn’t suss out what.
“Yes. If I must.”
What he didn’t mention was that it would give him time to talk to Graham and discuss tactics with Simon.
John alighted from the car with no discernible signs of discomfort in the eyes of Alison. It enforced her belief that he was up to something and it involved Simon. She drove out of the small service road of Cannon Lane back onto South Street and the half mile or so to the Police Station where she parked up at about the same time as John entered the café. Simon was already there sitting at the furthest table from the door with his back resting on the cold stone wall. He was leaning back in the chair with the front two legs well off the floor. John pulled one of the other chairs round to sit not quite level with him but to have a clear view of the entrance and his back also towards the stones of the old cathedral wall. They greeted each other both in the knowledge that they had not been followed into the café.
The stop at the service road just off South Street had been noted. When she drove back out they saw she was alone. They assumed, incorrectly, that John was either in one of the grace and favour properties or had walked through the precincts of the cathedral into West Street and away. Not one of them knew there was a café in the cathedral’s cloisters. Now Alison’s car was stationary in the car park at the Police Station.
Four men huddled together in the railway station forecourt. A plan was hatched not by committee but by the smallest member of the group who saw a speedily rising opportunity. None of the others would dare to question him such was his status, and each would indubitably do his bidding. His predilection for violence was well known to them all.
He was gambling. It could be a possible fruitful early outcome. If she was going to walk back to the grace and favour cottage they could take her en route. If she was going to drive anywhere, he would revert to his original plan and take her when she got home. He dispatched the largest of the men in the BMW to Chichester Basin to keep an eye out for Alison leaving the station either on foot or in her car. His instruction was only to alert them to her walking but to follow if she left in her car. The little man did not trust him unreservedly and recognised he stood out like a sore thumb on the pavement due to his bulk.
Simon and John were soon deep in a conspiratorial conversation after a three-way discussion with Graham about the threat to Alison and what they were going to do about it. Graham had hesitantly agreed with Simon and asked John to keep him apprised of any developments. All had known from the outset that she had been the subject under scrutiny and the initial rumours that someone was asking about John was possibly a deliberate red herring. Anyone seriously trying to find him could have managed it without having to seek information from other members of the public. To follow him, or break in and bug his flat or car however would have been a totally different kettle of fish. They all concurred that the assaults object was to isolate Alison leaving her alone and vulnerable.
Even so, they believed that she would be safe while at work in the Police Station or moving around the busy streets of Chichester. Whilst in her flat was where they agreed her to be the most susceptible and that was negated now by Simon’s presence. Neither thought her to have been in imminent physical danger as whoever had been in her flat during the night could have caused her untold injuries. They had to make it a little easier for her to be taken.
As they were discussing how to proceed, two softly spoken foreign men, one with an adequate command of English had taken station either side of Alison. Each had a vice like grip on an arm at her elbow causing her intense pain as they forced her face first across the back seat of the Audi which had been parked in South Street outside Tesco Express. It had happened so quickly that she had no time to cry out in pain or for help before she was lying across the seat with a strong hand on the back of her neck forcing her face down into its cloth covering. Someone had got into the vehicle directly behind her and she could feel them sitting on the backs of her legs preventing any movement. Her left hand seemed to be bent behind her back at a ridiculous angle in such a way that it was throbbing and giving the impression that if it moved further, the pain would intensify. One person now had perfect control over her.
Her bag that had been slung over her shoulder was now wedged under her chin with the metal clasp digging into her neck. It was causing her a supplementary but unremitting pain. She tried to speak but when she opened her mouth it seemed to fill with the upholstery making her mute. The mobile phone that she had taken to carrying in her hand had fallen from her grasp hitting the kerb and shattering the screen as it bounced into the road and fell under the Audi.
Three pedestrians had noticed Alison being rammed into the back of the vehicle and saw one of the men get straight in after her. They watched as the other man walked casually round to the driver’s door and say loudly enough for all to hear in an accent that none could quite place, “Kids huh! They’ll be the death of me”. With an embellished movement, he cast his eyes upwards and shook his head from side to side as if to signify that they should know exactly what he meant. It was good enough for all three to accept that what they had observed was nothing untoward but a simple family matter. Within minutes, all three pedestrians had practically forgotten the incident as they resumed their relevant pursuits.
The Audi was driven slowly away from the kerb, and the back nearside wheel crushed Alison’s mobile phone to destruction as the vehicle completed a ‘U’ turn in the road and moved off towards the bus station and the level crossing beyond. A softly spoken accented voice told Alison that to struggle was futile and would only cause her infinitely more excruciating pain. As if to enforce the threat, her wrist suddenly felt like it was about to break causing her to whimper into the cloth of the seat and dribble onto the fabric as she cried silently out in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes and rolled onto her cheek destroying some of her makeup. She could see nothing except the stitching on the grey fabric as the car gently rocked and swayed as it followed the road’s contours. Alison felt the vehicle manoeuvre round a couple of roundabouts and then accelerate along what she thought was the road towards Selsey.
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Saturday 11th June 2011
After what seemed like a lifetime to Alison, but was in fact no more than twenty minutes, the car stopped with the engine ticking over. The driver shouted and received a reply from someone, but Alison couldn’t hear what was said. A couple of minutes later it moved off again and she felt it bumping along what she thought was an unmade-up road. As the vehicle bounced up and down and snaked from side to side, the pressure on her wrist intensified and decreased as the person holding it was swung about within the vehicle. Eventually the car came to rest and the engine died as the driver got out and returned to the nearside rear door where she had been forced in. A cloth bag was prised over her head and draw strings were pulled and tied but caused no pain. The smell within the bag however, which was totally unrecognisable to her, caused her to retch but not quite vomit. She could still breathe and although her world was now utterly sightless, she was no longer mute and could talk.
“Why have you done this to me? I’m a Police Officer. You’re in serious trouble” but before she could say anymore, her wrist was released and the person sitting on her legs got out of the car.
She immediately felt hands on both her ankles and she was pulled unceremoniously half out of the car so she was kneeling on rough ground. Her bag which had been over her head and on her right shoulder swung back down and was grabbed by unwelcome hands which opened it swiftly before dropping it down. Alison felt instant pain to her knees as grit and stones penetrated her black chinos and left very small tears in the material as she held onto the seat to try to preserve some form of balance. The hands had left her ankles and now took hold of her arms again at the elbow and she was forced to her feet.
The driver said, “Keep quiet. Speak only when I say. Do you understand?”
Alison said, �
��What’s this all about?” but suddenly felt a hand slap her face from above the bag.
“Do you understand? Yes, or No?”
“Yes.”
They forced her forward, and she heard the driver say there was a step, but she still stumbled when her toe caught it. The surface changed to smooth stone as they entered what she perceived to be a building, and she was piloted to a back room. Once inside, she felt the distinctive cold metal of a handcuff being affixed to her left wrist.
A different voice that exuded sheer menace said in a soft accent she couldn’t quite make out, “Listen carefully as should you disobey what I am now going to tell you: pain like you have never experienced will be administered. This room is blacked out but has a light built into the wall. Do not try to disable it. The handcuff is on a chain so you can move to the toilet in the corner. It is a flushable toilet, so do not abuse it. There is a sink and towel next to it, do not abuse it. The bed is wooden but comfortable. Again, do not abuse it. Food will be provided at regular intervals via the hatch at the base of the door. You will not shout or make noise, as we are the only people who will hear and we like silence. The room will be kept at a constant heat. When you hear the door slam, you may remove the hood. Do you understand? Yes, or No?”
Alison thought for only a second before uttering the word “Yes” exceptionally quietly.
The door slammed with a sound that implied solidity. Alison pulled at the hood which had been tied loosely around her neck, and after two tugs, yanked it off over her head. She breathed deeply and looked about her prison. A dim light emanated from behind a metal grill half way up the wall above the bed. It cast eerie shadows around the room but gave enough light to see by. The chain was attached to a bar in the middle of the floor which had been set into the concrete with no visible fixtures. Taking hold of the chain about a foot from the bar, she pulled as hard as she could to no avail: it did not budge or even give the impression that it would. She saw the dark shape of the door located in the wall opposite the bed but could not see any handle or lock. Moving to it, she confirmed no handle or lock on her side of it but saw the hatch which was closed tight at the bottom of it. She kicked out malevolently at it in the vain hope it would fly open, but was not surprised when it didn’t. Checking the toilet, she saw even in the poor light that it looked pristine.
Set in the wall at the end of the bed appeared to have been a window which had been bricked up from the inside by someone with limited skills. Mortar was covering most of the brickwork where it had not been scrapped off as it had oozed out as the bricks had been laid on top of one another. Alison examined it closely and saw that it had been built up from the first bricks that had been sited on the wooden window sill. Where the bricks had met the side of the window and the top, they were well set, but the first row on the sill looked to Alison like the weak point. They were deliberately meant to draw the eye and prevent her looking at the ceiling in any detail which was out of reach to her unless she stood on the bed. It was at the extreme limit of her restraining chain and above the remit of the wall light. Had she been so inclined to check, she would have found it to have been a thin plywood covered in very fine plaster.
Sitting on the bed, she removed her bag which had resumed its original position on her body, with the strap over her head and on her right shoulder and the bag resting on her left hip. From within, she removed a small packet of wet wipes and her emergency repair nail file. She took off her ersatz designer chinos and scrutinised them with foreboding. They were way past redemption and although her legs were aching, they now played second fiddle to her favourite chinos. Flattening them out, she laid them on the bed and tried to stroke them back into shape.
Painstakingly she removed the remaining few stubborn bits of grit still stuck in her skin and saw small globules of blood form but none flowed. Lifting each leg in turn she washed her knees at the edge of the sink. The pleasant smell of lemon from the soap caused her to take off her jacket and blouse from her right side and let them slide down the chain to the floor on her left. Unable to free them completely, they were laid as flat as she could manage before she had as close to a strip wash as possible in the smallish sink. It felt to her as if she was washing away the pain and cleansing any thoughts of the men who had abducted her. Using another wet wipe, she finally wiped her knees for the last time with the soft sterile tissue impregnated with anti septic balm which she hoped would prevent any infection. Her nails had suffered badly during the previous hour, and she diligently set about repairing them as best she could. The owner of the eye that observed her through the small spy hole set in the door close to the top hinge could not understand the logic.
Wherever her phone was now, Alison had no idea and did not really care. She knew it was only a matter of time before Simon came to get her. As she dressed, she checked her clothes, cleaning in the sink a couple of marks from her blouse and tried to brush the creases out of her jacket with her hands. Her chinos, she decided, were past salvation because of all the little nicks and small tears, but she struggled back into them without ripping them any further. Looking forlornly at her favourite pair of black shoes that were now scuffed beyond repair, she put them under the bed. Then she sat on the bed, crossed her legs, rested a hand on each knee, holding each thumb to middle finger and shut her eyes and drifted off into deep meditation.
The man who had sat on her legs in the car and struggled to speak any English spoke to his brother in Lithuanian explaining what he had seen through the spy hole. Laughing constantly as the chronicle continued, the driver explained it was just the product of the British elite.
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Saturday 11th June 2011
“Mr Daines?”
“Yes. Who is this?”
“We have kidnapped your daughter.”
“Like hell you have.”
“I would suggest you check.”
“I don’t know how you got this number but do not bother me again.”
“You are the deputy to the Commissioner of the City of London Police. You have applied to be considered for the role of Chief Constable for the West Midlands. I am correct?”
“How did you know that?”
“How we know is irrelevant. If you want to see your daughter again you will withdraw your application.”
“I will not withdraw.”
Then he hung up.
“What do you reckon Ian?”
“That should have wound them up.”
“Was it enough to get the mast?”
“Yeah. GCHQ will have it as well in about five minutes.”
The phone rang.
“Leave it. That should get them rattled.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“They will do one of two things, either keep trying to get you, or phone the mole to discuss what to do next. That would be what we want.”
72
Saturday 11th June 2011
In the cathedral café, John and Simon were wondering where Alison was, and what was delaying her. Simon’s phone vibrated on the table top and he saw who was ringing.
He said to John, “It’s Graham again. They must have her already” and he answered.
Graham spoke calmly, quietly and quickly.
Simon responded as succinctly as he could and said, “Now they have told you what they want, it’s up to you to flush them out then we can respond accordingly.”
“Can you keep her safe for a few days?”
“Yeah. We’ll go and see what the score is tonight, and keep you up to speed. Anything your end, call me straight away please.”
“Right. Can I speak to Oscar?”
The phone was passed to John and Graham told him “Don’t take any action to rescue her. It’s imperative that I can identify the ringleader. I know you, if you think she’s suffering, you’ll try and get her out. I’ll keep in contact with you and Simon and inform Prodow.”
John asserted that Alison’s safety was his prime concern, and was slightly shocked when Graham said,
“She knew the risks when she joined the force.”
Graham rang off and both sat in abject silence for a few minutes as they tried to assess what action he would take to identify the ringleader.
John broke the impasse saying, “I suppose we had better find her so we at least know where she is and how many we are dealing with.”
“Yes. It won’t be too much trouble. May I suggest we use my car later tonight as it hasn’t been seen by anyone?”
“Seems fair.”
Simon pronounced his intention that he was going to spend the afternoon checking out Alison’s flat firstly to make sure it was not still being watched and secondly that the inside had been cleared of all bugs. They acceded that John was to return to the Police Station and speak to Prodow as to what was going to be said about Alison’s disappearance. Then an agreed meeting place at St Richard’s Hospital car park was made before both went their separate ways.
Both knew that Alison would be alright for a week or so at the least wherever she was, and that Graham would be making all the right moves as he received the phone calls from the kidnappers. John made his way out of the Cathedral grounds and into South Street checking all the time for anyone following him or just hanging about watching. Reflections in windows displayed sundry people on the opposite side of the road and behind him on the pavement a group of motley school children loudly making their way back to afternoon remedial classes. He walked purposefully through the bus station and then over the level crossing and into the Police Station via the front door and to an office on the ground floor. No hint of injury or impediment was manifest to a casual observer. Knocking once, he barged straight in where he found a uniform Sergeant of some vintage whom he had heard was completely discreet.
After introducing himself to the startled sergeant and explaining that he was actively engaged in a covert operation, he asked if it was possible to view the recent town CCTV from around Chichester. Still recovering from the onslaught of John’s entry, the sergeant weakly replied as John knew he would, in the affirmative.
An Urgent Murder Page 22