BEYOND THE SPRING

by Mike S Martin

“What the hell is going on? Take your hands off me!” gasped Wyre as he nearly stumbled over face first onto the floor.

  Richards never replied but grabbed Wyre’s arm into a lock position and placed his other hand over his mouth so he could not talk. Unable to move Wyre struggled to free his self from the detectives grip. Richards waited for the door to automatically close then released Wyre and placed his finger to his lips to plead with him to be silent.

  “What the hell are you doing? I want to speak to the officer in charge!” said Wyre angrily, raising his hands in self- defence.

  “Please bear with me Wyre!”

  At this comment Wyre’s demeanour changed at the realisation that the guy that had just virtually assaulted him knew who he was.

  “Please come with me!” pleaded Richards.

  “Not before you tell me what the hell is going on?” said Wyre defiantly.

  “I’m the officer in charge and if you want your son you need to trust me……please Wyre” pleaded the detective.

  Wyre followed him down the narrow corridor until they reached a cell door. Richards unlocked it and walked in first to reassure Wyre he wasn’t actually going to lock him in it. When they were both in Richards locked it behind them.

  “What the hell is going on?” asked Wyre in a now calmer but still untrusting voice.

  “I’m so sorry Wyre but when I tell you what has happened I’m hoping you will understand why I had to do this”

  “What do you mean what has happened? I’ve just come to collect my son Oliver”

  “Please sit down” said Richards placing his hand on Wyre’s shoulder.

  “I will be totally honest with you but can I trust you to hear me out so you fully appreciate the magnitude of what has happened” pleaded the detective.

  “Ok!” replied Wyre frowning and looking at Richards with a piercing, angry and desperate looking stare.

  “Now I know you left your son at the library but I need to know why?”

  Wyre seemed to hesitate as though he was reluctant to disclose why, in case he got dragged into something he wanted nothing to do with. He had seen it in his job when innocent people became embroiled in politics and almost became victims because they had been honest with revealing something they had witnessed to the point of not being able to return to a certain country to do their job until the matter was sorted out. It did not matter because he had paused long enough for Richards to know something had happened, something serious enough for Wyre to leave his son who he obviously adored. Alex took a deep breath and knew the only way he could get Wyre to trust him was to tell him his side of the story.

  “Right there is no easy way to say this but at this moment in time your son is missing”

  “What you mean he is not here?” said Wyre leaning forward.

  “When you left your son at the library you gave instructions to the staff to call us immediately so we could pick him up and keep him out of harm’s way”

  “Yes that’s right and whilst I made my away from the library towards town I see your guys walking him to a waiting car. Dressed pretty much as you are now”

  “Did you recognise the car Wyre?”

  “Does it matter?”

  Alex shook his head, a look of resignation written all over his face.

  “Yes it does matter”

  “What you mean that wasn’t……it wasn’t you…….bastards it was them wasn’t it. Shit!”

  “It was who Wyre, you need to tell me?”

  Wyre’s head fell into his hands in despair and now wished he had not left his son.

  “Look Wyre I know something happened in the court and you saw it because I was there today and bearing in mind I’m the chief detective here I was not allowed access to an area I wished to see, which means something happened in there and I’m guessing you probably saw it. These people are dangerous Wyre so I need to know what happened today so we can get your son back….now!”

  “What you mean you know who has taken my son?”

  “I don’t know for certain but I have a good idea”

  “Who took him, you need to find them and get him back?”

  “Listen before I start throwing accusations around we need to establish the facts”

  It was Wyre’s turn to take a deep breath as he prepared to reveal all so they could get Oliver back as soon as possible. Nothing else mattered now and inside Wyre was being torn apart at possibly having made the wrong decision that had now placed his son in danger. Richards pulled a Dictaphone out of his jacket pocket and placed it between them both.

  “What’s that for?” frowned Wyre.

  “We need every detail so we don’t miss a trick.”

  Wyre nodded and proceeded to tell Richards everything Him and Oliver had done that day. Richards listened intently his own way. Not looking at Wyre but staring at the cell wall, putting all his concentration into every word that he could hear. He knew there was something Wyre was going to confess to seeing which would explain why Oliver was left to protect him but he needed to hear the whole story and more importantly listen to what happened after Wyre had left the library. Time was ticking away, time they didn’t really have but Richards was thorough. Wyre explained everything to the point of him stood staring through the library window towards the court house. Richards could tell Wyre was getting near to revealing what he had seen by the tone in his voice. He was slowing down almost trying to deal with the regret at his reaction to the incident. Wishing he had just walked away from the window instead of being transfixed like most people would have been.

  “It was the flash lighting up the room that intrigued me. I’ve seen that flash so many times before in war torn countries and I suppose it was just a natural reaction to watch and check to see what was happening”

  Richards listened to Wyre’s description of the guy crawling across the room only to be shot again and almost certainly killed.

  “I should have moved away from the window but I just stood there. That’s when the guy with the browning pistol with the silencer on it stared straight at me……..almost like he knew someone was watching him”

  “You know what weapon it was? That’s a long way to see….are you sure?” said Richards slightly impressed.

  “I should imagine by now you know what job I do detective and believe me I’ve seen enough of those weapons to know what it was”

  “Yes I do know what job you do Wyre” replied Richards nodding.

  Richards listened intently as Wyre continued remembering every detail and showed the strain when he described leaving Oliver at the Library reception.

  “Who would have taken him? Why would they have taken him? How did they know who he was? It just doesn’t make any sense” He then looked at Richards still with the puzzled look on his face. “You say you know who they are so why aren’t you out there catching them?”

  “I traced your steps Wyre and visited the court after the library, that’s how I had an inclination you had seen something. I then tried to go into the rooms I knew were visible from the museum but I was only allowed in one. The other one, the room I was not allowed in was the room where I think the shooting happened”

  “Why were you not allowed into the room? You’re a detective so who has the power to stop you?”

  Richards stroked his chin thoughtfully before answering. In a different situation he might have kept his thoughts to himself but he felt it fair to be honest with Wyre. Richards had briefly read up on his background and knew he was strong, someone who took very little messing and could handle stressful situations.

  “I wasn’t allowed in because the room was being guarded”

  Wyre looked even more puzzled but also seemed to appreciate what he had seen had actually happened and it wasn’t his mind playing tricks.

  “The guy you described as the shooter and the guy who most likely took Oliver was there in the hallway but he wasn’t alone. There were two others with him”

  “Who were they?”

  “I’m
not sure what their names were……..but I did recognise one of them”

  Wyre seemed to be working things out in his head then looked at Richards with a questioning look, the anger gradually building.

  “Hold on one minute. You traced my steps knowing my son had been taken. You think you found the room where the shooting had taken place and you are now saying that one of the people refusing you entry…..you knew them? Can I ask why you never confronted them or forgive me for asking even arrested them? Am I missing something here or more to the point do you know where my son is?”

  Richards clasped his hands together and prepared to give Wyre an idea of what type of situation they might possibly be in.

  “Listen to me very carefully Wyre. We obviously don’t know why they have taken your son but I am going to be very blunt and honest with you because I know you can deal with it, you have to deal with it. You are a witness to a murder so I can only assume they have taken Oliver as a bargaining chip. I’m pretty sure that very soon you will hear from them and they will want to know what you saw”

  “That is why I wanted Oliver to have nothing to do with this. I just knew by looking at the guy that spotted me that they were trouble. I’ve seen guys dressed like that before with that look……..”

  “Where have you seen them……let me see……guarding dignitaries and working close protection?”

  Wyre gave Richards his full attention and sat on the edge of the bench in the cell.

  “Yes…….How did you know?”

  Silence filled the cell then Wyre sat back and studied the detective.

  “It makes sense now. You used to be one of them that’s how you knew one of those bastards”

  Richards placed his hand in the air to interrupt Wyre and hopefully calm him down.

  “Listen Wyre you have to trust me when I say we can discuss this later but you have to know who we are dealing with because we are running out of time. These guys won’t mess around. The reason I left the court without arresting anyone is because these guys are untouchable. They must have listened to the call from the library to the police station. This would explain how they reached Oliver before me. They were ready for every scenario and would have been fully prepared. They would have thought nothing of putting a gun to the back of my head and pulling the trigger. Well actually no that’s probably a lie. They would have killed me but most likely made it look like suicide. I would have been found in a months- time swinging from a tree somewhere or floating in a river. Remember David Kelly the weapons expert from a few years back?”

  Wyre seemed confused as to why the detective was asking him this but answered the question anyway. “The guy who worked for the government…….” replied Wyre.

  “…..found in a field with his wrists cut” interrupted Richards.

  “The guy found in a suitcase who worked for MI5 who apparently died playing sex games……..both victims of the people who have taken Oliver. I’m sorry Wyre but we can’t just go in flashing my badge…..”

  “Oh Jesus Christ what have I done? So they work for the government…….but they can’t be above the law……can they?” asked Wyre holding his head in his hands.

  “Sort of…..but it’s not quite as black and white as that”

  “Are they’re going to kill Oliver?”

  Richards stood up and turned to face the door slowly shaking his head.

  “I’m not sure”

  “For Christ sake…….what killing children isn’t their style?”

  “Killing anything and everything is their style” said Richards rolling his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t believe they would kill Oliver I just don’t understand why they haven’t killed you yet. That’s the part I can’t understand. They could have done it anytime but they haven’t. They obviously knew who Oliver was and they could have let him walk and killed you so easily”

  “Maybe they haven’t had the chance” replied Wyre.

  “Believe me they have had their opportunities. There is something that doesn’t sit right and it’s that we need to try and find out but first I have to make a few phone calls and call in a few old favours because our priority right now is to secure the release of Oliver”

  Wyre place his hands over his face exasperated at the situation he was now in. Richards placed his hand on Wyre’s shoulder to let him know he wasn’t alone in this.

  “Wyre the next thing we need to do is inform your wife of what has happened and perhaps place her into custody so we know she is safe”

  “I’m not sure if it’s too late” said Wyre letting out a huge sigh.

  “Why?” said Richards anxiously turning around to face him.

  “I’ve tried ringing her but there is no answer not even on her mobile. Would they know where we live?”

  “I’d love to say no to you Wyre but they probably do. I’ll send someone round to take a look…..no wait better still we will both go round”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “I would normally say yes but like I say if they had wanted to kill you I’m sure they would have done it by now. Try her again and I will make a phone call” said Richards as he opened the cell door and guided Wyre through to his office. “Wyre assume everything is bugged so be tactful with your questions”

  Wyre paused as Richards opened the door to his office and stepped aside to allow Wyre to enter. “Alex I think there is something you should know about Oliver”

  Chapter 7

  Detective Richards pulled the chair out for Wyre to sit down. Wyre’s face had changed from being strong and determined as it would be if he was dealing with some emergency on the streets of Baghdad, Kabul or Tripoli to one of rejection and sorrow. Richards could see he was obviously upset, who wouldn’t be. It was now obvious Wyre was holding something back and it was visually distressing him greatly. He waited for Richards to sit down then tried to remain strong as his demeanour seemed to falter under the weight of what was on his mind.

  “You see it’s Oliver”

  “Wyre trust me we’ll get him back”

  “No it’s not that”

  “I do have contacts that can arrange for us to meet them”

  “I believe you but there’s more to it than that”

  “What do you mean?”

  Wyre took a deep breath and leant forward pressing his elbows into the top of his thighs and again clenched his hands together. He refrained from holding his head because he wanted detective Richards to understand the situation clearly.

  “We have to get Oliver back as quickly as possible. We have to because……..he hasn’t got long”

  “What do you mean?” replied Richards hanging onto Wyre’s every word.

  “What I mean is Oliver is ill. He has leukaemia and is about to start some more of his treatment. He has been so brave about it even though we haven’t told him how serious it actually is. The thing is the treatment won’t save him, it’s too far gone. All it will do is give us a bit more precious time with him. Now this has happened…………we need to get him back”

  Richards just sat there not sure of what to say. Of all his experience, strong mind and character, Wyre’s comment had stunned him into silence and was filling him with anger. As he sat there gently rubbing his forehead he watched Wyre and could only imagine what he must be thinking. The man in front of him would do anything for his son, including sacrificing himself. Richards now knew he was going to have to delve deep into his own past if he was to help Wyre get Oliver back but what scared him the most was what he was going to find and what he was going to have to face up to. His life before coming a detective, the life he fought so hard to leave was now coming back to haunt him and he was going to have to face it full on to the point of once again becoming the personality he detested and had tried to forget. There was one thing he was certain of and that was a child was involved and the one thing that upset Richards more than anything was harm being inflicted on a child.

  As Richards toyed with the idea of confronting his past ano
ther vision appeared, forcing him to stare at the floor. The vision had him sitting in a cold empty room with his hands tied to a chair.

  “Alex can you hear me” came a voice from the back of the room.

  As hard as he tried Richards could not see who was asking the question due to a light in the room being too bright.

  “Alex you need to talk to us. We need to know what is happening. Do you know what you have done? Jesus Christ what have you done Alex? You’re gonna rot in hell for this Richards” As the figure came into view, the vision vanished and Richards found his mind back in his office with Wyre.

  “Are you ok detective?”

  Richards glared at Wyre with a look of determination.

  “Yes now let’s get your son back”

  *

  Ron Bostock entered the room and made no eye contact with anyone. He didn’t really have to. His presence in the room commanded respect from everyone who knew him or had heard of him.

  “How’s the boy?” he asked coldly.

  “He’s fine, we’ve given him a drink and some chocolate” replied one of the men dressed in a dark blue suit.

  As various other men dressed in dark suits concentrated on their particular jobs, Bostock took his mobile phone out of his pocket and searched for the number he wished to dial. Creases appeared around his eyes as he squinted at the small screen, his cold hazel eyes almost burning a hole in the phone. Bostock could have almost been mistaken for a politician or a banker or CEO of a large company such was his look. Short, neat grey hair with a side parting, cleanly shaven with predatory, pointed features meant he would have looked very much at home dressed in a Nazi uniform. This of course didn’t just apply to the way he looked. Tolerating fools was not in his manner and anyone showing signs of weakness or not doing what he perceived as right was dealt with immediately. Most stories could not be verified because anyone with an ounce of common sense dared not repeat a tale they had been told in earshot of anyone who was close to him. This said, some did survive the whispers, including the one regarding one of his guys who would not cut the fingers off a guy Bostock had caught trying to expose the government for smuggling in secret documents hand signed by Arab leaders regarding secret deals, in the coffins of dead British soldiers returning from Iraq and Afghanistan. When the guy doing the exposing was walking to the post box to post the evidence he was bundled into the back of a car then taken to a place for questioning. When Bostock asked the interrogator to cut his thumb and two fingers off as a reminder and he refused, he took matters into his own hands. Without breaking sweat and without saying anything, Bostock grabbed the hand of the accused and proceeded to chop off the fingers. The interrogator, Bostock’s own man, was also grabbed and force fed the fingers, almost choking as he was made to swallow them. The man gave off an air of pure evil and the worse thing about him was that most of the time he had the backing of the government or at least the people holding the puppet strings. He trusted only a handful of people and to him the rest were expendable, tools at his disposable.